The crowd all murmurs at the statement. Mothers pull their children close and everyone takes a step back, looking fearfully. One of the onlookers calls out accusingly.
Passerby 1: That witch gave Garth the SILENCE!
Vanna, still bent over her friend’s motionless form, looks up with fire in her eyes.
Vanna: Oh, I have had ENOUGH of you people today!
She points over their heads towards the rest of the island and shouts her orders.
Vanna: My medicines aren’t able to treat this-- for god’s sakes, can one of you PLEASE radio the hospital?!
Pavel: Mom…
In all the chaos, something else has begun to happen. Pavel, facing away from the island and the onlookers and the lights, is illuminated, ghostly pale in the lantern light emanating from between his hands. His costume billows around him as the wind off the water fills up the sleeves of the poncho and catches in the fabric.
Pavel: Mom… the lighthouses are FLASHING.
Sure enough, out on the water, the lighthouses in their sentry line are unusually dark pillars, blaring light out in synchronized frequencies. Behind them, a fog cloud taller than they are rolls, slowly and inevitably, into the harbor. The crowd goes silent, staring at the oncoming threat. Everyone, man, woman, and child, is caught unaware and in total terror by the collapse of the defense they have relied on for a thousand years. Vanna, kneeling at the front of the pack and faced with too much hurt and uncertainty for one day, looks to the harbor with dawning dismay.
