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The wiry little dog looked supremely unimpressed. He plunked his hindquarters down on the cold, patterned-vinyl floor in front of the fridge, his beady black eyes fixed hungrily on her face.
‘It’s no use looking at me like that,’ she told him.
He raised one limp front paw and uttered a single, pitiful whine.
Nina rolled her eyes. ‘Hollywood!’ she scoffed.
He sank slowly down on his stomach, his muzzle settling on his crossed paws with what sounded suspiciously like a deep sigh. The jaunty white tail lay flaccid on the dark green floor as if too weak to wag.
Nina echoed his doggy sigh with one of her own. They both knew who was going to crack first. They had played this game many times before. Oh, well…she might as well throw him his tidbit now and stave off the reproachful looks and pathetic whines long enough for her to fill her own belly.
Before she could reopen the fridge, there was a particularly strong gust of wind and she heard the first flurry of raindrops tattoo against the corrugated-iron roof. The dog’s drooping tail and ears pricked up, and the listless waif suddenly turned into an energised ball of barks, hurtling himself at the back door and scratching at the panels.
‘Zorro!’
The little dog glanced back at Nina, the two oblong patches of black fur that surrounded his eyes looking uncannily like the mask of his dashing namesake as he ignored her compelling cry and continued to leap in front of the closed door, barking madly.
Nina almost preferred him cowering under the couch.
‘For goodness’ sake, Zorro, calm down. It’s only the rain.’ She pulled aside the kitchen curtain to peer outside as she spoke, then saw what the dog must have sensed—a shadowy figure coalescing out of the darkness.
Someone was stumbling down the narrow, dead-end road that provided the only vehicle access to the bay. It was a steep, zigzagging road that turned sharply at the bottom of the hill just behind Nina’s cottage and then ran along the flat to the public parking area at the far end of the beach.
Nina cupped her hand to the side of her face and squinted through the rain-smeared glass, her breath fogging the cold surface. Wrapped in a long, flapping coat and bent over against the wind, one hand lifted to protect against the rain that was driving in under the overhanging trees, the tall, bulky figure could have been either a man or a woman.
It obviously wasn’t one of Nina’s neighbours. A local would have been walking along the middle of the road, regardless of the risk of traffic, rather than on the unstable margin. Even in dry weather the ungraded road was inclined to be slippery along the edges where loose gravel collected in drifts. Nina only hoped that the visitor didn’t end up sliding into the open ditch that ran alongside the road.
‘Forget it, Zorro. No-one’s going to come visiting us in this kind of weather,’ she said to the cacophony of barks. ‘It’s just someone on their way to the Petersons or the Freemans—or maybe they just want to check on a boat.’
The barking stopped abruptly, and she was pleasantly surprised at this unprecedented act of instant obedience until she looked around and saw the flapping cat door. The round hinged panel had been installed by some past resident who owned an obviously hefty feline, and Zorro had been quick to appreciate its advantages.
‘Dammit, Zorro!’ Out the window she could see the little dog scampering past the letterbox and up onto the road, staggering sideways with each pummelling gust of wind. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Nina yanked open the door to call the dog back, and as she did so, two things happened simultaneously.
A sizzling bolt of blinding white light exploded out of the sky, striking the tallest roadside tree in a shower of sparks; and the rain flurries suddenly turned into a torrential deluge.
Momentarily dazzled by the lightning and disorientated by the ear-shattering thunder that followed barely a split second later, Nina didn’t at first register the danger. But then, through the dark blur of the sheeting rain, she saw the smoking top of the puriri tree begin to peel away from the main trunk, leaving a pale, jagged stump pointing accusingly at the sky. As it toppled, gravity took over and the heavy thicket sheered completely off, plummeting through the threshing branches towards the puny human on the road below.
