R. Stine - Red Rain

“I think it’s good they went swimming with Ira. That’s encouraging. They’re the same age, so if they manage to bond with Ira, maybe. .”

His voice drifted off. He still had major doubts about the whole thing.

He went upstairs to give Lea one more chance to come along with them, but she was captured in the glow of her laptop screen. Were her eyes glassy or just reflecting the light of the monitor?

“We’re going to the ocean. I’m going to pick up Ira and the twins. Want to come with us?”

She mumbled something he couldn’t hear and kept typing without turning her head. He couldn’t help but be annoyed. “Sweetheart, don’t you want to spend some time with the boys?”

Another mumbled reply.

He forced a laugh. “I’m going to have to pick you up and carry you away from that keyboard, aren’t I.”

She waved him away. “I need to get this all down, Mark.”

He kissed the back of her neck, changed into a swimsuit and sleeveless T-shirt, found his Tevas, and hurried outside. Roz was struggling to fasten Axl in his car seat. “Just think. Only six more years of this. Lucky, huh?”

Mark laughed. “That’s what I love about you, Roz. Always thinking on the bright side.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put the suntan lotion on him first. He keeps sliding out of the seat.”

Mission accomplished with Axl, Roz climbed into the backseat beside him and they drove the few blocks to Ethan’s house. The sun, still high in the afternoon sky, filtered through the trees, sending flickering light dancing over the windshield. On the side of the street, a dead squirrel had attracted the attention of several hungry blackbirds. The passing car didn’t even make them flutter a wing or interrupt their feast.

Mark pulled the car to the bottom of the driveway. The three garage doors were open. No cars in view. Wasn’t anyone home to watch the boys in the pool?

He left the air-conditioner running for Roz and Axl and climbed out of the car. It was a hot day, more like summer than May, a great beach day. Sunlight bounced off the front of the white frame house. He took a few steps up the smooth paved driveway. A chipmunk darted out of the garage, into the yard.

A few doors down he heard the low drone of a power mower. Across the street, two little girls rode pink and yellow tricycles up and down a driveway.

Nearly to the front of the house, Mark stopped to listen. The silence disturbed him. No splashing. No boys’ voices. Usually they were decimating each other with water blasters, cannonballing into the pool and jumping out, shouting and wrestling and splashing.

Today silence.

They never went indoors when they could be in the pool.

A sudden feeling of dread made the back of his neck tingle. Too quiet. Too quiet. His legs felt heavy as lead as he started to jog toward the back.

Is something wrong back there?

What’s going on?

He was breathing hard by the time he reached the white picket fence. Still silent back there. “Hey-where is everybody?”

He pulled the gate. When it didn’t budge, he pushed it. He stumbled onto the deck and saw them immediately.

Oh my God .

Was that Ira? Yes. Ira flat on his back. Stretched out straight on the deck beside the pool. Daniel and Samuel on their knees, hovering over him, faces narrowed in concern.

Ira flat, his face pale white, head straight up, arms and legs so stiff at his sides. Not moving.

Not moving.

Ira. Not moving.

Afew minutes earlier. Daniel pushed down on Ira’s head. The boy kept thrashing and squirming under the churning water, but weakly now.

“Be careful,” Samuel said, tugging his brother’s arm. “Don’t get carried away. You just want to scare him, Daniel. You don’t want to drown him, do you? Do you?”

Daniel’s eyes were wild and distant at the same time. Samuel always wondered what he was seeing at times like these. Samuel knew what he saw. An endless dark chasm stretching beyond them forever.

“Daniel, please-”

Daniel blinked, as if coming to consciousness. He lowered his hands around the struggling boy’s waist and, with a grunt, hoisted him out of the water.

Ira emerged coughing and choking, eyes wide, water rolling off him, legs still churning. Daniel held him high, allowed him to spew up a stream of water, cough and groan and sputter.

Behind them, Ethan shrieked at the top of his voice: “Are you okay? Is he okay? Is he okay? Ira?”

Samuel thought he could see the heartbeats in the boy’s bony white chest. Now Ira made hoarse vomiting sounds, dredging up only pool water.

Daniel held him up, his biceps round and hard, too developed for a twelve-year-old. But Samuel knew where his twin’s strength came from.

Ira’s hair was matted over his face like a clump of dark seaweed. His head was down, arms limp at his sides, legs finally still.

“Is he okay? Is he breathing? Is he going to be okay?”

Samuel gave Ethan a reassuring thumbs-up.

Ira grew quieter. His chest still heaved but the choking and vomiting had ceased. He raised his head slowly, groaning. He brushed the wet clump of hair off his eyes with one hand.

Daniel laughed. “You did it, laddy!” he cried exultantly.

Ira squinted at Daniel, struggling to focus. “Did it?” His voice a choked whisper.

“A minute-twenty!” Daniel declared. “You broke your old record. I knew you could do it!”

Ira just stared at him, his face vacant, obviously trying to decide Daniel’s intent. Did Daniel just try to drown him? Was he playing a vicious game? Or was he really trying to help Ira break his underwater record?

Daniel kept the grin on his face. “Way to go, lad. Next time, a minute and a half.” He lowered Ira gently into the water. Then he turned to Samuel. “Wasn’t that amazing?”

“Amazing,” Samuel echoed.

“But you forced him,” Ethan protested. “Didn’t you see he wanted to come up?”

“I knew he could break his record,” Daniel insisted.

“C-cold,” Ira stammered. “I’m. . getting out.” He started to paddle weakly toward the side, gliding as if in slow motion.

“Get him some more towels,” Daniel ordered Ethan. “Maybe a sweatshirt or something.”

Ethan splashed out of the pool. His bare feet thudded on the deck, leaving dark footprints as he disappeared into the house. As soon as he was gone, Daniel nodded to Samuel.

Samuel knew the routine.

Each taking an arm, they led Ira out of the pool. “Th-thanks,” Ira stuttered. The poor kid was shaking.

“Here. Lie down in the sun,” Daniel instructed in his most gentle voice. Like a harmless little boy, Samuel thought.

They helped Ira onto his back on the sun-hot deck boards. He stretched out flat, water running off him, still breathing hard, shuddering.

“Ssssh. Relax,” Daniel whispered. He turned expectantly to Samuel.

Time for me to go to work .

It was so funny, actually. Daniel was the angry one. The bold one. Face it-the evil twin. Daniel was the one who wanted to act. Daniel wanted to rule the pool or rule the school or rule the fools.

Samuel knew he was different. He was shy. He was peace-loving and calm. No, not kind or sweet or feeling. But calm, at least. Not eager.

So funny, since Sammy was Death Man.

Sammy was the killer-man. Sammy had the beam, the ray, the whatever-you-want-to-call-it. Sammy had the heat. The burn. The furnace. Go ahead-say it: the fire of Hell .

Yes, together on the island where the dead met the living, they stepped out of a blood rain. Yes, the blood was on their shoulders and in their hearts. The blood splashed at their feet and puddled all around them, ran down their faces and stained their skin as well as their clothes.