“C’mon, won’t you tell me something?” Frank asked for about the millionth time.

Josh moaned in frustration, “No, I don’t want to talk about it, Frank, just drop it already, I’m not going to change my mind,” Josh playfully reached over and batted Frank in the head, which wasn’t an easy feat, since Frank’s head was easily 4 inches above Josh’s.  Frank laughed for a second before stopping abruptly when he realized he was the only one laughing.  Josh would never talk about his life before coming to Rouen, no matter how much his friends pestered him about it.

“Hey, Peter, help me out here… Peter… Peter?” Frank waved his hand in front of his friend’s face, trying to wake the other from his momentary stupor.

“Huh?” Peter turned to face Frank, his dark hair cutting through the air and returning to rest in front of his left eye.  Frank and Josh often wondered how Peter could see like that, but he could, and, they supposed, that was all that mattered.  “Oh… Why do you care about his past so much?  If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Peter said flatly.

Josh finally smiled a bit, “See, Frank, you’re the only one who cares.  Thanks, Peter.” Josh took a bite of his lunch as Peter nodded, yet Peter’s lips stayed a firm, flat line.

Frank tried his best to feign hurt at Peter’s betrayal, but a smile showed through his pout, “Peter, how could you let me down like that, man?”  Josh and Frank chuckled, while Peter remained silent.

There was a silence as the three boys went back to their meals, so that they would finish before the bell rang to send them to their classes.  All around them, the students of Salem Heights High School were trying to talk above each other while eating their cafeteria lunches.
The lunch bell rang, and the three boys went their separate ways to class.  The day went by slowly, and finally, when 2:15 rolled around, the boys united again outside of the school.

“Ugh, what a day!” Josh exclaimed as they sat down on a bench outside to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the cool of the breeze.  “At least there’s a game tonight.  Playing always helps calm my mood.”

Frank nodded silently without turning, “Yeah, and it’s always fun to watch you, Mr. MVP,”
Josh laughed, “I’m not the MVP.”

“Yeah, but what do people cheer every time you’re up for a foul shot?  ‘MVP!  MVP!’  C’mon, you know you’re gonna’ get it!”

Josh smiled, “Maybe.”

Peter remained a silent shadow beside Josh

Frank laughed, “Well, we know who’ll get all the girls wanting to go to the prom with him come May.  Meanwhile we’ll be struggling to find a girl who’ll actually say yes when we ask her, right, Peter?”

Peter’s pale, expressionless face moved up and down as he nodded slowly.

“But, hey, I mean, look at us,” Frank continued, “I’m a nerdy pizza face with red hair and Peter here… well, most people don’t even know his name; to them, he’s just ‘that emo kid’.  Meanwhile, you sit over there with your perfect blonde hair, good looks, and popularity.  There’s no question who’s going to have a date to prom and who won’t.”  Frank’s tone changed to curiosity now as he considered something for the first time, “Why do you spend so much time with us?  You’re so popular you could hang out with anyone.  Most of the jocks won’t go near anyone who isn’t in the ‘in crowd’, so why are you different?”

Josh smiled at Frank, “When I first came here five years ago, knowing nobody, you and Peter were there to help me out and make me feel welcome.  I’m not going to abandon you just because you’re not popular.”

********************************************************************

“MVP!  MVP!” The crowd cheered as Josh made another basket, increasing his team’s score all the more.  Everyone cheered as the clock slowly ticked down, until the game ended with the Salem Heights Witches easily winning.

“Another great game,” Frank patted Josh on the back upon greeting him emerging from the locker room, “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

Josh had a distant look in his eyes, “My dad taught me… when I was younger.”

“Oh…” Frank had never met Josh’s dad, and knew nothing about him, as he belonged to Josh’s past.  He wondered if it was anything like the situation with Peter’s father, who was an alcoholic and had been put into rehab four years earlier, but Frank doubted it.  Now, though, he was more curious then ever.  What was it about Josh’s past that he was so afraid to talk about?  Maybe if he knew where he had come from, he could find something out.  Josh was so careful about talking about his past, though, that Frank had no hints to go with, and nothing to start from.  He needed to find innocent questions that would help him search for the truth.

“Hey, Josh… did you play basketball in middle school… before you came here, I mean?”

Josh seemed to think about the question for a while before replying.  “Yeah… yeah, I played basketball when I first became eligible for the team in fifth grade.  Why do you ask?”

Frank was flustered for a second, then recovered, “Well, it’s just that you play so well that I was curious if you’ve always been this good, or if it was something you started when you came here.”

Josh smiled, buying the fib, “Yeah, I’ve always been good at basketball.”

“Mom’s waiting for us,” Peter said.  Peter’s real mother had been abused by her husband.  When Peter had been thirteen, his mother had left him and his alcoholic father alone.  When he told his teacher a few months later about his father not working and not being able to afford food, the school contacted a rehabilitation clinic, which took Peter’s father for treatment, leaving Peter alone.  Because her son had been friends with Peter for almost ten years, Frank’s mom was willing to take Peter in.  Soon after, Peter began to view Frank’s mother as his own, and Frank as a brother.  Frank was beginning to think that even once Peter’s father left the rehab clinic, Peter would still remain part of the family.

“Ugh,” Frank moaned, “well, anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow in school, Josh.”

“Yeah,” Josh smiled, “good night, Frank.”

“Good night.”

********************************************************************

When Frank went home, he instantly began to search for old newspaper stories about games Josh had played before coming to Rouen so that he might at least know about the town he came from.  The idea of using a search engine to research Josh’s past had not occurred to him before, but as he thought about what Josh had told him about playing basketball, he though of the possibility that he might have been in the news before, which meant that he could probably find information about it online.  Frank went to the search engine site, typed in Josh’s name, followed by basketball, and then paused for a moment before hitting the search button.  Soon, a few hundred matches appeared on the screen, starting with his high score in the game on Monday, then an article about how he was one of the foremost athletes in the county and perhaps even the state, and that it was looking increasingly likely that he would reach the thousand point mark before he graduated high school.  These, however, were not what Frank was interested in, so he quickly moved on, hoping that older stories still existed.

After almost an hour, he found it, on the website for Pierce Middle School.  He still held the record for most points in a season at the school, even though he was only in sixth grade when he accomplished the feat.  Although it wasn’t much, it told him the school he went to.  After a little more searching, he discovered that Pierce Middle School was in the small town of Lemon, which was about five hours from Rouen.

Now he knew something, but not much.  Satisfied, he turned off his computer and got into bed, still wondering what Josh didn’t want to say about his life in Lemon.  Well, he thought, that would be something to find out on another day.  Frank was soon peacefully asleep.

********************************************************************

Josh, Peter, and Frank were eating lunch again, at the same table they always sat at, talking about their classes and the game last night.  As they talked, though, Frank could think of nothing other than Josh’s past.  Perhaps if I tell Josh that I know where he’s from, he’ll tell me something, Frank thought.

“The school just told me that I have the record for points scored in a season now, and it isn’t even the semi-finals yet,” Josh told Frank and Peter excitedly.

“And your score back at Pierce Middle School remains unbeaten!” Frank exclaimed triumphantly.

The color drained from Josh’s face, and his fork stopped in its journey to his mouth.  After a moment, he recovered and set the fork down, his face unreadable, looking at Frank.  “How did you find out where I was from?” Josh asked calmly, although Frank could tell that Josh was nervous from the look in his eyes.

Frank realized that he should have kept his mouth shut, yet it was too late to change his actions, so instead he tried to think of a way to reassure Josh.  Josh wasn’t the type to get openly angry, however he was known to be upset on rare occasions, and it appeared to Frank that this was one such time.  Frank realized he needed to say something to try to cool down the situation before Josh became any more upset, “Uh… Does it matter?  I… I looked it up.  I’m sorry, but I was curious, okay?”

Josh’s face seemed like it was trying to shift into many positions at once, and he ended up almost looking like a Picasso painting in a way.  Finally, he stood and left the cafeteria, leaving Frank and Peter sitting there alone, Frank in shock, Peter expressionless.  Frank wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done, but it had been something very bad.  Yet this made him even more curious, and more determined to find out what it was that Josh didn’t want people to know.

********************************************************************

Josh looked at his reflection in the mirror, repressing memories of the past he tried to hard to bury behind him and forget.  Frank had done exactly what Josh was afraid he’d do, and now Josh didn’t know how to respond.  Should he tell his mom, so that they could pack up and move again?  Should he just hope that Frank wouldn’t try to find out anything more about him?  He didn’t want to leave the friends and success that he had found here and start over, especially in his Junior year of high school.  It was probably best that his mother didn’t know, anyways.  Even if Frank did find something out, Josh was sure he wouldn’t tell anyone.  Frank was someone who could always be counted on to keep a secret, especially one like his.  Josh still wanted to ask Frank not to look deeper into his past, though.  They were best friends, and Josh felt that if he asked Frank to stop, he would.

Josh stepped out of the restroom to find Frank there waiting for him.

“Hey, man, the bell’s rung, what’s wrong?  You need to get to class.”

“So do you,” Josh replied, trying to force a smile, “sorry about that, I guess I shouldn’t be so upset with you.”

“It’s okay.  Well, we need to get to class, so… I’ll talk with you after school, okay?”

“Yeah,” Josh replied, then began walking.

********************************************************************

“Sorry about that, Josh, I just… You’re my best friend, and I’ve always wanted to know about what you were like before coming here and stuff… the more you don’t talk about it, the more it makes me wonder.”

The two of them were walking around the school in the area of Rouen known as Salem Heights.  This area of the city was built near the sea, and the land rose up over 75 feel above the water, forming a set of sheer cliffs.  Some people were foolish enough to build homes up here, and the school was fairly close to the water, but most stayed clear of the area because of the danger of falling from the cliffs and the rough wind that, when it blew through the trees, made a sound like screaming.  People with small children especially were concerned that their kids would play on the cliffs and then fall down to their deaths on the rocks below.  It was, however, a beautiful spot to take a walk, which is why the two boys were there now.

Josh kicked a rock over the cliff, watching it fall, then splash into the water below.  “I’m sorry I got so upset with you, Frank, but… you know I don’t like to talk about my past, and I assure you there’s a reason.  Will you drop it now?  You at least know where I used to live, isn’t that enough?”

Frank shrugged, “I guess…”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“Well… isn’t there anything else you can tell me?  I mean, there has to be something that you don’t want to keep a secret.”

Frank, please.  Just drop it.  I’m asking you as your best friend, will you please respect my wishes?”

“Okay,” Frank said quietly.

“Thank you, Frank.  I know I can trust you.  I’m sorry I have to be such an asshole about this, but I really don’t like people knowing about my past.”

“Yeah.”

********************************************************************

Frank had tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t look further, but he had to.  He went to the search engine, typed in Josh’s name, as well as Lemon in order to see what came up.  This time, there were three matches.  The first was about his high score, so he disregarded it.  The second, when he looked at it, was another one about his playing, so, after reading about the game, and smiling at knowing at least a little something, he continued on.  He hadn’t taken a close look at the last link before, but now he noticed with surprise that it was from the police section of the newspaper.  Frank clicked on it after a short pause, since he had a feeling that this might be what Josh didn’t want him to know about.

********************************************************************

Peter heard a squeaking gasp from Frank’s room, then silence.  Peter took a paper towel and wiped the blood from his arm where he’d been picking at the scabs from the last time he’d cut himself.  Then he carefully put his wristbands back over the wounds, covering them, keeping everyone else from seeing what he had done.  After being sure that he had hidden his deed well, he stood from the bed, opened the door, and knocked on the door to Frank’s room.  There was a sudden sound, as if Frank had been startled and the knock had made him jump, then footsteps, the door opened, and Peter saw Frank’s face, almost white.  Without asking if he could come in, Peter entered Frank’s room and looked around the room for whatever had caused such a reaction from his ‘brother’.  Finally, his eyes settled on the computer, and he read everything on the screen, finally understanding many things.

“Peter, please don’t tell Josh that I looked, I don’t want him to know.  We’ll just… pretend we never saw it, or something, right?  It doesn’t change anything, right?”

“Right,” Peter replied, however he knew inside that this would indeed change everything.  Peter had felt jealous of the way Frank and Josh seemed to get along from the moment Josh had arrived in Rouen, and now here was a chance to bring things back to how they were before Josh.  As Peter returned to his room, he began to smile.

********************************************************************

It wasn’t until Josh left his first class on Monday that he noticed the whispering of those around him, and felt people trying to avoid being in his path.  He knew something had happened, but at the moment, he wasn’t sure of what it was.  He searched through the school for Frank, since he would surely know what had happened.  It didn’t take long to find his friend, hurriedly trying to remove a piece of paper that had been taped to the wall.

“Frank!  What’s going on?”

Frank stopped, frozen, not even breathing, for a second, then ripped the paper off the wall as fast as he could and began rushing toward the garbage can without a word to Josh.  Seeing where Frank was going, Josh ran over, intercepting Frank, whose voice carried the emotion of someone on the verge of tears.

“Please, Josh, I didn’t do it… I didn’t mean to do it… If I had known… I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Josh reached into Frank’s unresisting hands and took the papers from him, slowly turning them to look at what was written there.  He gasped at seeing the familiar words again, words that he had hoped he would never again see, the words that had destroyed him.  Now, he red the article once more, the single sentence coming back to him from the hundreds of times he’d read them with tears in his eyes years ago.

‘Josh Stanley, 12, of Lemon charged with manslaughter in the death of William Stanley, 34, also of Lemon.’

As he read the words, the memories came flooding back to him.  Of his father teaching him to play basketball, of his father laughing at the dinner table over conversation, of Christmas and Thanksgiving past, of his father taking him trick or treating, of searching out the eggs his mother and father had so carefully hidden as they watched him and gave him hints.  Finally, of that November when his father had taken him out hunting for the first time, teaching him to use the gun, and when Josh accidentally fired, hitting his father.  Of watching him bleed to death there on the snow, and not knowing what to do.  Of running home to his mother in tears and telling her what had happened.  Of the way he had been treated afterwards, and how his mother finally decided to take him away, to a place where people wouldn’t know, so that he could start his life over.

Yet now the past had followed him, and his worst fears were coming true.  The looks of admiration he had received in the past were now suddenly looks of fear, and instead of people wanting to be around him, they only wanted to run away.  Of course, they didn’t know it had been an accident.  To them, he could easily be a cold-blooded killer.

“Why?”  Josh cried, tears bursting forth as those around stopped to watch, wondering if they would see him murder his best friend before their eyes.  “Why did you look?  Why did you do it?  I trusted you… you promised…” Frank moved closer, to put a hand on Josh’s shoulder, but Josh only waved the hand away, and Frank was left standing alone, devastated.

“What’s wrong?” came Peter’s voice from the crowd, sounding almost victorious, despite his emotionless tone.

Frank stood, grief at the pain he’d caused his friend replaced with anger, face flushed red, and began to walk briskly to where the voice had come from, prepared to hurt his brother, no matter how close he felt to him.  The crowd parted for Frank, until he could see Peter in front of him.  The crowd formed a circle around the two friends, ignoring Josh for the moment, hoping to see a fight between the two boys.

“Why did you do this?  Isn’t Josh supposed to be your friend?” Frank yelled at his ‘brother’, causing Peter to wince.  “I can’t help but think that this is mostly my fault, that if I hadn’t had to be so nosy, none of this would have happened.  But no matter how wrong what I did was, you are still slime compared to me.  What did you think you could gain by doing this?  I wish you’d never come to us!  I wish you father had beaten you instead of your mother!  I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Peter stood there, his usually expressionless face now holding an expression of shock as though he’d just been slapped.  Then, finally, his pale face began to take on a reddish color, and his face seemed to melt into a pout as he began to release all the emotion built up inside of him.  He pushed through the crowd as tears he’d held in for years began to fall freely.  Other students, feeling that the excitement was over, had left for classes, leaving Frank and Josh alone.  Josh walked over to Frank, who seemed unsure of how to feel at the moment, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Josh said quietly, “I should have at least told you… you deserved to know.  If you had, then it wouldn’t have ended up like this.  I’m not upset with you, Frank, although I probably never will forgive Peter… I still don’t understand why he did it, though.”

“I shouldn’t have been so nosy,” Frank replied, “I should have just listened to you and not tried to find out what you didn’t want me to know.  Just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t keep some secrets to ourselves.  Will you forgive me?”

Josh smiled and hugged Frank quickly, “I already have, Frank.”  They separated, looked at each other, and laughed.  “Let’s get to class, tomorrow this whole thing will be old news, and everyone will have forgotten.”

Frank nodded, and the two of them began walking down the hall.  As they neared their room, however, they spotted Peter going into the bathroom at the other end of the hall, holding something in his hands.

“I wonder how Peter is doing… we should check on him, I think he felt really bad about what happened, and didn’t realize the effect it would have,” Frank said to Josh, then thought aloud, “and I should apologize for the horrible things I said to him.”

The two walked down the hall and entered the bathroom.  Looking in, though, they were immobilized by the sight of Peter standing there, wristbands scattered on the floor around him, unhealed cuts and scars revealed for them to see for the first time.  In his right hand, he held a small pocket knife, which gleamed red with blood from a new cut on his left wrist.

“Peter!” Frank shouted, starting to run into the bathroom, but Josh wordlessly held him back, knowing that approaching him now could make things far worse than they already were.  Frank stopped and tried to think of something to say, but the best thing he could come up with was a quiet, “please stop, Peter.  Why are you doing that?”

They stood there for a while, looking at each other, wondering what to say or do, Peter standing there holding the knife, which could be used to kill any of them, even himself, however accidentally.  Finally, Josh took a cautious step into the bathroom, bringing Frank with him, both holding their breath to see what Peter would do.

Peter’s face showed panic at being discovered, and he brought the knife to his throat, unsure of what else to do.  Now he stood on the thin line between life and death, and was afraid of going to either side because he didn’t know what pain each held for him, and which would hurt more.  Frank and Josh cautiously moved another inch forward, watching Peter for any sign that he might use the knife if they stepped any closer.  Then, they stood still again.

“Why do you feel you have to do this, Peter?  You did something wrong, but we’ll forgive you.  Please, just put the knife down, and come with us.  It’ll be okay… really, I promise it will.”  Frank tried to speak calmly, but Josh could clearly hear the fear and desperation n his voice.  He did truly care for his friend, even if, sometimes, they had disagreements.

“You said you hated me, brother, you said you wished I was dead.  I could make it true for you.  I’d do it for you, brother!” Peter cried, his words almost hard to understand through his emotional state.  “All I wanted was for you to stop spending all you time focused on perfect Josh here,” Peter pointed angrily at Josh with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife, “and to pay more attention to me, because you’re the only one I care for, brother.  Nobody else in the world matters except you… and maybe mother, but everyone else could die for all I care.”

“Peter,” Frank pleaded, “listen to yourself, then listen to me.  You think I don’t care for you, but I do.  You’re one of my best friends, you’re like a brother to me, how could I not love you, even if I might be mean sometimes?  Who’s always been there for you when you needed someone, huh?  It was myself, and usually Josh, too.  We’re a team, Peter, and we care for you.  Don’t do this.”

Josh stood there anxiously, worried that at any moment, Peter might decide to kill himself out of spite, or because he didn’t want to hear what Frank was saying, and then it would be all over.  Frank, however, remained very calm, and his words seemed to finally be reaching Peter.  Slowly, Peter let the knife drop, “I… I don’t want to hurt anymore.  I want us to be a family, I want you to always be with me.”

“Don’t worry, Peter, I’m not going to leave you,” Frank and Josh took a cautious step forward, watching to see if Peter would raise the knife again, but it stayed down.

Josh couldn’t relax, though.  He’d looked death in the face before, and now he could feel it in the air around him.  He couldn’t let Peter kill himself, because he’d feel the blood on his hands.  He couldn’t bear living with the deaths of two people weighing on him, it was hard enough sometimes with just one.

“Okay, now will you let go of the knife and come here?” Frank asked, his voice beginning to shake.  Suddenly, he felt Josh move beside him and turned, causing Peter to focus his attention on Josh as Josh ran and leapt toward him, trying to grab the knife from his hands.  “Josh, no!”  Frank yelled, far too late to be of any effect.  All he could do was watch helplessly as his two friends wrestled on the bathroom floor, Josh’s hand over Peter’s on the hilt of the knife.  There were no words spoken during the fight, and no violence of any kind as their bodies writhed there, each trying to get the upper hand and take the knife from the other.

Josh finally managed to get the upper hand for a moment, and tried to position himself above Peter, however in struggling to do so, the knife managed to sink into Peter’s chest.  Peter and Josh both released the knife, staring at where it now lay embedded in Peter’s skin, blood beginning to soak his shirt.  Frank screamed and ran over to see what had happened as Josh stood, looking down at Peter in horror and guilt.  “I’m sorry…” was all Josh was able to say.
Josh felt something somewhere inside him snap, and suddenly he was running, although he didn’t know where or why.  As he rushed through the door, a few students, drawn by Frank’s scream, wandered in to see Frank helplessly looking down at Peter’s bleeding body.  After what the students had learned about Josh’s past, the conclusion was obvious.

One of the students ran out of the room to call the police, telling other students that Josh had killed Peter as he went.  Somebody pulled the fire alarm, sending kids flooding out of their classes, slowing Josh and speeding the story along to new ears.  As Josh neared the exit of the school, the cry of “Josh is a murderer, he killed Peter” rang out over the noise of the crowd, and all eyes turned to him.

“So,” one student sneered, “you weren’t satisfied with one, you had to go and kill someone else?”

“No, you don’t understand…” Josh tried to explain before he was cut off.

“We can’t let a murderer run free in our town!”  Shouted a voice from the crowd, “He’s unarmed, let’s grab him and hold him until the police can get here, before he runs away!”

Josh felt hands grabbing at him, yet he shook them off and pushed through the crowd to get to the door.  He ran up the hill behind the school, angry students driven to a frenzy following close behind.

********************************************************************

“He’s very lucky,” a student who was trained in first-aid told Frank after examining Peter, “He was stabbed pretty badly, but the knife missed his heart by about half an inch.  He’ll be fine after some stitches and rest.”

Frank let out a sigh of relief.  Suddenly the fire alarm bell began to ring, and Frank stood up and helped the three other students in the bathroom pick Peter up to carry him out of the building.  As they entered the hall, they began to hear the shouts claiming that Josh had killed Peter.  Although they were unable to see it, Frank heard the cry to catch Josh and hold him, and heard the commotion as the crowd chased after him.  Frank swore, politely asked the other students to make sure Peter was okay, and began running to catch up with the mob to explain what had happened.

********************************************************************

Josh emerged from the school building and continued running as fast as he could up the hills towards the cliffs, trying to get as far from his pursuers as possible.  Exhausted, he fell to the ground at the base of one of the trees as the sound of the wind blowing through the leaves made him hear screams in his mind that echoed what he had heard in the school.  He wanted to run farther away, however he didn’t have the strength, so he continued to sit, unable to move, the silent screams of his father and of Peter roaring through the air like the wail of banshees.

Soon, though, he saw several of the students and a few teachers from the school community coming angrily up over the hill toward them.  Clearly, they wanted to detain him until the police could arrive, despite assuming he was very dangerous, since they knew he was unarmed.  So, despite the fact that his lungs and legs were aching, he stood and ran again, up higher onto the cliffs and closer to the sea.

Some members of the mob were beginning to fall behind, yet upon seeing their prey fleeing, they were spurred onward by the hopes of apprehending him and preventing him from causing any more harm.  In response, Josh pushed himself harder, but soon found that he was having trouble moving ahead, as his steps began to falter.  Looking behind him, though, he saw that his pursuers were still close behind, so he refused to stop himself.

********************************************************************

Frank tried to catch up with Josh, but Josh had gotten too large of a head start for that to be possible.  Frank was only able to barely make out Josh’s form, wavering as it tried to run along the cliff, trying to avoid being captured by the crowd.

“Josh!” Frank yelled.  Josh turned for a moment as he ran and, despite the distance, Frank knew that they were looking into each other’s eyes.

********************************************************************

The wail of the banshee stopped suddenly, and the crowd stood still, looking at where Josh had been, where now there was nothing but air.  There was total silence all around for several seconds, even as Josh’s body hit the rocks 75 feet below, breaking his body beyond recognition or repair.  As the mob moved closer to the edge to look death in the face, the wind began to roar with a new fury as the wail of the banshees grew in strength.  And in that wail, the students could swear that they heard the cries of a thousand people, and in the bloody surf below, they could swear that they saw fire raging, the fires of judgment momentarily brought into this world by the actions of man.

The fire was neither good nor evil, it just was.  It ate at the innocent just as it consumed the guilty, and even when the fire was gone, there was no difference in the remains left behind.  Now this fire lit the waters below, and the persecutors almost could feel the heat of the flames in the wailing wind.