Stunned, Chieko fled to a refuge center. Many of those heading in the same direction were nude and held their hands before them, their skin dangling like limp strands of wakame (seaweed). Their eyes bulged in crimson faces. Their bodies were smeared with blood, a ferric odor mingling with the stench of charred flesh. “It was hell,” Chieko said. People were dropping before her, imploring, “Tasukete kudasai.” “Please help me.”
