One of the men dropped to his knees—he was using his hands to dig now. The second gripped a piece of metal that had been lodged in the ground, pulled it out, and tossed it to the side. Both men stopped. They grabbed the body by the legs and they began to pull! They strained, digging in their heels, their muscles bulging, until the body popped out and they tumbled over. I looked at the body. It wasn’t Sam’s.

Thank goodness. I realized that I’d been holding my breath and I inhaled deeply to fill my lungs. It wasn’t my brother. It wasn’t even a man. It was a woman. Other than the shorts, her clothes were gone. Her long, dark hair was matted with dirt and sand. Her eyes were closed, and there was a look of complete anguish on her face, as though she were in pain, or angry, or terrified. That was probably the way she had died.

The men picked up the body, one holding the legs and the other holding the arms. Gently they placed her on top of the canvas, and then they pulled the edges over so it covered her up. I turned away and started walking again.

Everywhere there was more of what I’d already seen: another boat well up on the shore, lodged between two shattered tree trunks; another car, this one on its roof; boards and pieces of plywood; broken furniture; a bashed-up refrigerator; and more bursts of color, clothing half buried in the sand…was it just loose clothing or was I seeing the sleeve of a shirt that was still on somebody? I shuddered.

My attention was caught by flashing lights up ahead. I hurried along the road. There was a truck, something official with red lights on the top. It was the first official-looking thing I’d seen since I landed. There were lots of people crowded around and they were all standing in front of the remains of a small building. Only half of the store sign was visible, but there was enough left to show that it was a supermarket. Were they there to get food? Was the situation so desperate that people were scavenging for supplies?

I stopped at the edge of the crowd and peered over people’s heads. The walls of the building stood but the roof was partially collapsed and the front windows were smashed in. A few steps led down into the store, which was filled with water. Debris floated on the surface—paper and some canned goods. And then a man popped his head out of the water. He started up the steps, pulling something behind him. It was a body. He dragged it, bouncing up the steps behind him, until three more men waded in and helped him carry it up. The three men were wearing masks, the type a doctor or nurse would wear.

The body was bloated and battered-looking. I was sure it was a man’s, but I couldn’t tell anything else. They placed him on a piece of bright-green canvas and started to wrap him up. I couldn’t watch any longer. I had to get away.