She tried talking to Alex then, shouting at him over patches in the constant rumble of thunder, but he shook his head and patted one ear. He had gone quite deaf. He’d probably been deaf from the very first instant the F-6 hit. He might, she thought, be deaf forever now. Worse yet, he looked completely insane. His face was drenched with rain and yet still black with dirt—not just dirt on the skin, but dirt tattooed under his skin, his face stippled with high-speed flying filth.