Then a crash of thunder set the earth rolling under their feet, and the lull in the storm came to an end.

The sky split open with the vivid fire of lightning.

The trees wailed and whined, the rain fell again in a smothering deluge, and through it Nada ran, gripping the knife as her one defense against the demons of darkness--and always close at her side ran Peter.
He could not see her in that pitchy blackness, except when the lightning flashes came.

Then she was like a ghostly wraith, with drenched clothes clinging to her until she seemed scarcely dressed, her wet hair streaming and her wide, staring eyes looking straight ahead.

After the lightning flashes, when the world was darkest, he could hear the stumbling tread of her feet and the panting of her breath, and now and then the swish of brush as it struck across her face and breast.