“Everything’s got to be done slowly and calmly,” she said. “Is that clear? No sudden movements, no loud shouts.”
“Got it,” said Omak.
She bent over Lamech again.
“We’re going to move you,” she said. “But not far. We’ll still be inside the house.”
Then she stood up again and nodded to Omak and Ophir. They put the stretcher on the floor and stood one each side of the bed, lifted him gently, and laid him down on it. Their mother covered him with the eiderdown, picked up the candle, and led the way out of the room.
When they reached the stairs, Lamech began to howl.
Ooooooooooh. Ooooooooooooh. Oooooooooooooh.
Anna turned to look at him. His eyes were bright with fear. Perhaps he was howling to control it. Doing something, beyond the fear, that comforted him, she thought, and hurried them along: the worst thing was the moving itself. As soon as they reached the cellar, he’d settle down.
Down the stairs they went, through the hall, out into the darkness. The wind was so strong that they had to brace themselves against it to avoid falling. The rush of it was so loud that they could barely hear each other’s voices. Although everyone knew where the cellar was, their mother pointed along the house wall, seeming to draw them with her impatient movements.
OoooooooOoooooooooOooooooooo.
Their mother held the cellar door open for them, and even after that short trip it was a relief to get under cover once more.
They laid him on the mattress that Anna had lugged down earlier, packed the eiderdown tightly around him, tried to speak softly, stroked his cheeks, but to no avail, all night long he lay there with wide-open eyes and twisted his head at every sudden noise that reached them from outside.
The following day was no better for him. While Anna, Javan, and the twins went up to assess the hurricane’s damage, which exceeded their worst fears, Rachel and Jerak looked after Lamech in the cellar. Those above held a short council, deciding that Javan should go down to the village and make contact. When he returned and said that people had begun to assemble at the two farms that had weathered the storm unscathed, they packed up all they could carry in the way of clothes and food, laid Lamech on his stretcher once again, and came here, where Anna only a moment since had crouched down beside him, and now was taking the two outstretched hands in hers.
“Everything’s going well,” she said quietly. “All’s well, don’t fret.”
His eyes filled with tears. Anna felt the same happening to hers, and looked away.
The rain beat against the panes. From the floor below there was the sound of voices, sometimes laughter. She thought that they must be drinking. If so, it was hardly surprising.
She looked at him again.
How much had he taken in?
Enough to make him cry, she thought. And more than that it was impossible to know. The farm had been destroyed. The sea was rising. Tomorrow they would leave the valley and head up into the mountains.
“Sleep well,” she said, laid his hands down on the eiderdown, brushed her finger across his cheek, and had got up to go the few paces back to Javan when she saw that Rachel was awake. Not only that. She lay smiling up at her.
“Mother. .” she said. “It’s kicking. Do you want to feel?”
Most of the time she’d turned away from her mother during her pregnancy, protected it as if she were some kind of threat, but on occasions she’d opened to her, as she did now.
Each time it made Anna just as happy.
She took a quick look at Jerak; he was asleep. Anna knelt down beside her, Rachel pulled up her nightclothes, got hold of her hand, and laid it on her stomach.
“There!” she said. “You felt it?”
“Felt it?” said Anna. “I could see it.”
A tiny hand, bulging under the skin, had been drawn across it.
She had a good feeling about this child.
“I hope nothing happens tomorrow,” whispered Rachel.
“It won’t,” said Anna. “I promise.”
When she’d lain down beside Javan, she noticed that Lamech had raised his head. He lay watching her.
It was an eerie look. His eyes were open wide, his face so emaciated that it resembled a skull, at the same time there was a presence in his gaze that she hadn’t seen for a long time. For one crazy moment she thought he’d returned to full consciousness again. That he knew who he was, what had happened, what lay in store for them.
The worst of it was the thought that followed. That she didn’t want him to come back, that it would be against the laws of nature, much as if he’d arisen from the dead.
She didn’t like closing her eyes, it felt as if she were deserting him, but it had been a long day, and tomorrow would be even longer.
The last thing she thought about was the baby in Rachel’s womb. That it was with them, too.
Then she fell asleep.
She was awoken by Javan going out of the room. The others were still asleep. She got up, dressed as quietly as she could, and stood in front of the window. Javan was crossing the waterlogged fields. He was almost running but constantly having to stretch out his arms to keep his balance, as the water was so muddy that he couldn’t see how deep it was in front of him. She smiled. She knew he was on his way to the embankment. There he would find that the water had risen considerably overnight, hurry back, get hold of the first person he met, and say that conditions had altered drastically, they hadn’t any choice now, he’d hoped against hope, but now. . well, they’d just have to leave today.
Or something similar.
The thick cloud cover lay so low over the valley that it seemed to form part of the landscape, as immovable as the ground or the mountains. Everything out there was gray. The trees were gray, the grass in front of the house was gray, the fields were gray.
Over by the wall Lamech began his tongue clicking. Soon after Jerak and Rachel stirred.
“Good morning,” she said.
Jerak gave her a barely perceptible nod. Rachel turned onto her side and closed her eyes again.
“I’m going to get Omak and Ophir,” said Anna. “Look after Lamech in the meantime, will you? We’ll be leaving as soon as I get back.”
The twins lay sleeping in the barn when she arrived. While she waited for them to dress and gather their things, she stood on the barn bridge peering up at the side valley that opened up on the other side of the river. She’d have to look for Noah once they’d got organized at the summer farm. They didn’t have contact with anyone up there, and even if they knew that the rivers were swelling and the fields down here were covered with water, they had no inkling that the sea was rising and was coming up the valley.
Leaving Rachel now, just before the birth, was the last thing she wanted to do, but if she must, she must.
The twins came out and stood next to her.
“Wow, it’s raining again today!” said Omak.
“We’ll have to hurry,” said Anna.
Half an hour later they gathered in front of the house. The farmyard was full of people, and the twins had to beat a path through them so that they could go up and fetch Lamech. As Anna stood there waiting for them, Lud came over to her. He wanted them to go on together. Anna explained that they’d have to call in at their farm first to gather clothing and food and other necessities.
“But have a word with him,” she said, nodding toward Lotan. “He’ll be able to take you with him.”
Lamech turned his head from side to side in confusion as he was carried through the crowd. His eyes were scared as he looked up at the strangers. Following the stretcher came Rachel and Jerak, each carrying a pack. They all crossed the field and went up to the embankment, followed it a good way, entered the forest, crossed the ridge, and so arrived at the back of what remained of their buildings. There they repacked, had something to eat, and pushed on toward the mountains. The going was tough, the water that covered the fields they crossed came to their knees, and in some places to their waists, and everyone was well loaded. The twins probably had the heaviest loads of all, as they had Lamech to carry as well.