I look over my shoulder an git a shock. The dustcloud’s halfways across the lake. I never seen one move so fast. We got a minute, two at most, before it’s on us.
We cain’t outrun it! I yel at Lugh. It’s comin too fast!
The shanty comes into view an we start to shout an wave our arms.
Emmi’s stil ridin around on her two-wheeler.
Pa! we scream. Pa! Emmi! Dust storm!
Pa appears in the doorway. Shades his eyes with his hand. Then he makes a dash fer Emmi, snatches her an runs ful pelt fer the unnerground storm cel ar.
The cel ar ain’t more’n fty paces from the shanty. He hauls up the wooden door set into the ground an drops Emmi inside. He waves his arms at us, frantic.
I look back. Gasp. The great mountain of orange dust races towards us with a roar. Like a ravenous beast, gobblin the ground as it goes.
Faster, Saba! Lugh yel s. He rips of his shirt an starts wrappin it around his face.
Nero! I says. I stop, look al around. Where’s Nero?
No time! Lugh grabs my wrist, pul s at me.
Pa yel s somethin I cain’t hear. He climbs into the storm cel ar an pul s the door to.
I cain’t leave him out here! I pul myself free. Nero! I yel . Nero!
It’s too late! Lugh says. He’l save hisself! C’mon!
A fork of lightnin slashes down an lands with a almighty crack an hiss.
One Missus Ippi, two Missus Ippi, three—
There’s a sul en rumble of thunder.
Less’n a league! Lugh says.
Everythin goes black. The cloud’s on us. I cain’t see a thing.
Lugh! I scream.
Hang on! he yel s. Don’t let go!
The next thing I know, a tingle runs across my skin. I gasp. Lugh must feel it too because he lets go my hand like he’s bin scalded.
Lightnin’s comin! he yel s. Git down!
We hunker down, some ways apart. We crouch as low to the ground as we can git. My heart’s stuck in my throat.
One more time, Saba. If lightnin catches you out in the open, whaddya do?
Crouch down, head down, feet together, hands on knees. Don’t let my hands or knees touch the ground. That’s right, ain’t it, Pa?
An never lie down. Don’t ferget that, Saba, never lie down.
I hear Pa’s voice loud an clear in my head. He got struck by lightnin as a boy. Nearly got kil ed from not knowin the right thing to do, so he’s made damn sure we al know what to—
Crack! The darkness splits open with a bright ash an a slam boom. It sends me yin. I bang my head aginst the ground—hard. Try to pul
Crack! The darkness splits open with a bright ash an a slam boom. It sends me yin. I bang my head aginst the ground—hard. Try to pul myself up but fal back. Dizzy. My head spins round an round. I groan.
Saba! Lugh shouts. Are y’okay?
Another flash an boom splits the darkness. I think it’s headed away from us, but I cain’t be sure, my head’s so muddled. My ears ring.
Saba! Lugh yel s. Where are you?
Over here! I cal out, my voice al thin an shaky. I’m here!
An then Lugh’s there, kneelin beside me an pul in me up to sit.
Are you hurt? he says. Are y’okay? He slips his arm around me, helps me to stand. My legs feel al wobbly. Did it hit you?
I … uh … it … knocked me of a my feet, is al , I says.
Then, as we stand there, the dark rol s away.
An the world’s turned red.
Bright red like the heart of a re. Everythin. The ground, the sky, the shanty, me, Lugh—al red. Fine red dust l s the air, touches every single thing. A red red world. I ain’t never seen nuthin like it before.
Me an Lugh stare at each other.
Looks like the end of the world, I says. My voice sounds muf led, like I’m talkin unner a blanket.
An then, out a that red dust haze, the men on horses appear.
There’s five of ’em. Ridin sturdy, shaggy coat mustangs.
Even in normal times we don’t git folk passin by Silverlake, so it’s a shock to see strangers blowin in on the tail of the worst dust storm in years. The horsemen pul up near the shanty. They don’t dismount. We start over.
Let me do the talkin, Lugh says.
Four of the riders is dressed in long black robes. They got on heavy leather vests strapped over top an sheemas wrapped round their heads.
They’re dusted head to foot with red earth. As we git closer, I can see the fifth man’s our neighbor, Procter John. He’s ridin his horse, Hob.
As we come in earshot, Lugh cal s out, Strange kinda day fer a ride, ain’t it, Procter John?
Nobody says nuthin. Their sheemas cover the riders’ faces so’s we cain’t see their expressions.
Now we’re right up near ’em.
Procter, Lugh nods. Who’s yer friends?
Procter stil says naught. Jest stares down at his hands holdin the reins.
Look, I whisper to Lugh. Blood trickles out from unner Procter John’s hat, snakes down his face.
What’s goin on here? says Lugh. Procter? By the sound of his voice, I can tel he thinks somethin ain’t right about this. Me too. My heartbeat picks up.
Is this him? says one of the men to Procter John. Golden Boy here? Is he the one born at midwinter?
Procter John don’t look up. He nods. That be him, he says in a low voice.
How many years you got, boy? the man says to Lugh.
Eighteen, says Lugh. What’s it to you anyways?
An you was fer definite born at midwinter?
Yeah. Look, what’s al this about?
I told you he’s the right one, says Procter John. I should know. I bin keepin a eye on him al this time like you told me to. Can I go now?
The man nods.
Sorry, Lugh, says Procter John, stil not lookin at us. They didn’t give me no choice.
He clicks Hob an makes to leave. The man slides a bolt shooter from his robe. I know he must be movin fast, but it al seems to go so slow. He pul s the trigger an shoots Procter. Hob rears in fright. Procter slides of an lands in a heap on the ground. He don’t move.
A cold jolt runs through me. We’re in trouble. I grab Lugh’s arm. The four men start movin towards us.
Fetch Pa, Lugh says. Quick. I’l draw ’em away from the house.
No, I says. It’s too dangerous.
Move, gawdammit!
He turns. Starts runnin back towards the lake. The men heel their horses an head after him. I run like stink fer the storm cel ar, fast as my feet’l carry me.
Pa! I yel . Pa! Come quick!
I look over my shoulder. Lugh’s halfways to the lake. The four riders is spreadin out to make a big circle. Lugh keeps runnin, but he’s caught in the middle. They start to close in, tighten up. They’re trappin him. One unhooks a rope from his saddle.
I pound my foot on the door of the storm cel ar.
Pa! I scream. Pa! Open up!
The door creaks open. Pa’s head appears.
Are they here? he says. Have they come?
You seen this comin. You read it in the stars.
Four men! I says. Quick! We got a stop ’em!
Emmi, stay here! Pa scrambles out a the cel ar. They cain’t be stopped, Saba. It’s begun.
His eyes look flat. Dead.
No, I says. Don’t say that.
Now Lugh’s trapped by the circlin horsemen. He darts at a gap. They block it. He stumbles, fal s, picks hisself back up agin. In the dusty red haze, it don’t look real.
Don’t jest stand here! I yel at Pa. Help me!