by JJ Hawken
He grappled with the piece of wood, eventually holding its base, and thrust it up towards the corrugated sheeting directly above. Come on, you little beauty. Move. Nothing happened. He changed his tack, trying to lever the roofing off. Move, you little tick, he murmured, as he pushed the wood with all his might.
As he pushed, he became aware that the entire building had begun to move. Ryan stopped hammering on the roof and watched as the shed began to drift off all on its own. He couldn’t believe it.
He wondered if, incredibly, the buoyancy of their boat had given buoyancy to the entire building, and now it had gone adrift with them inside it. That, or he was suddenly immensely strong.
The only thing he knew for sure was that the whole unit was moving quickly into the swollen floodwaters. As far as he could tell, they were safe. In fact, he rather suspected they were safer than any place they could otherwise have expected to end up in, so long as ‘The Joan of’ didn’t fall apart.
He ducked down under the canopy to find Sas crying hysterically.
‘Everything ship-shape and dandy, Captain,’ he said, saluting.
Sas looked confused. ‘What’s happening, Ryan? I’m scared.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘I pushed the roof and the entire shed came away. Funny thing is, I always suspected I had superpowers.’
‘Is it safe?’
Ryan looked at her blankly. ‘Truthfully?’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea, but, so far, so good. Now, how about another brainteaser.’ He sat down and put his legs up. ‘Can’t wait all day.’
Sas peered up at him. She simply couldn’t believe his brazen attitude to the disaster unfolding around them. The boat lurched and her eyes widened. But Ryan rubbed his eyes and yawned.
‘Ryan Williams,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how you do it.’ She took a couple of deep breaths to settle her nerves. ‘We’re on the verge of plunging into Armageddon and you want another teaser?’
Ryan nodded. ‘Yeah. Absolutely.’
‘Good Lord.’ She took a deep breath. ‘OK. Physics question – you said you were good at physics, right?’ He nodded. A question popped into her head. ‘Where does bad light end up?’
Ryan confidently put his feet on the seat. He was grinning like mad, which Sas later discovered was a sign that his brain was working. ‘OK,’ he began cagily, ‘either it’s in an ohm?’ Sas giggled but shook her head. ‘OR,’ and there was quite a long pause. He clicked his fingers, ‘In a prism?’
Sas clapped her hands. ‘Brilliant! You’re a big, strapping genius, aren’t you?’
Ryan was bursting with pride. Big, strapping, and genius – in the same sentence – from delicious, sexy Sas. He hardly dared tell her he’d read the answers in a magazine at the dentist. ‘One for you,’ he said. ‘What did the male magnet say to the female magnet?’
Sas burst out laughing. ‘I’m seriously attracted to you?’ She turned purple on the spot.
Ryan caught her eye. ‘Not bad. Want another try?’
Sas shook her head. ‘Tell me.’
Ryan looked quite serious. ‘From your backside,’ he began, ‘I thought you were repulsive. However, from the front I find you rather attractive.’
Sas clapped her hands and laughed as Ryan punched the air.
Suddenly, a terrible noise, like the body of a car scraping along a road, stopped both of them in their tracks.
Ryan slipped out the front. Then he dived back in, and dashed toward Sas at the rear. ‘Move up front,’ he ordered.
Sas shuffled up as Ryan headed out of the canopy at the bow.
Seconds later, he reappeared. Without hesitating, he sat in the middle of the boat and grabbed the oars. He started to row, pushing the oars in the water to go backwards, as fast as he could.
‘What’s going on?’ Sas cried.
‘Our time has come. ‘The Joan of’s moment has arrived.’
With a terrible crunching noise, the back end of the shed levered high into the air, as if the nose had dived headlong into the water. Ryan took a deep breath and, praying that ‘The Joan of’ held together, rowed with all his might. It sent the little boat backwards, creeping under the raised end, and out into the river. For the first time, the rain whammed into the canopy and the boat rocked in the water.
The sound was deafening.
Sas screamed.
After a couple of minutes, Sas put her head out as far as she dared, and tried to survey the scene. The only things she could see were the faint outlines of cars, wood, and sections of plastic, bobbing along beside them.
She ducked under the canopy, her face ashen.
‘Everything alright?’ Ryan yelled, noting the distress in her face.
‘Olivia, Anika, and Danny are in this, with no protection,’ she yelled back. ‘They haven’t got a hope.’
‘They’ll be fine,’ he yelled back. He looked down. ‘Sas,’ he hollered. ‘Get a bucket NOW and start bailing!’
Danny
At long last, Anika recognised a boulder at the bottom of the covered tree track.
A mini triumph, Anika thought, as a long booming roll of thunder drummed gruesomely overhead. She covered her ears, wincing, but after only a few paces she realised there was a far bigger problem. She kept close to Danny. ‘Mud!’ she yelled at Danny. ‘Look! Mud and stone, rushing down.’
The lane was so knitted with branches, brambles, and rocks that every step forward was like walking through barbed wire.
Worse still, the canopy of branches, bushes, and creepers above the lane was bowing to the pressure of rain. Branches were falling in. Not just dead twigs, but stems as thick as a man’s wrist. Even though they’d only stepped a few metres in, the canopy was clearly close to breaking point.
Danny slipped as a branch whacked into him, the muddy water dragging him down the hill. He dug his fingers into the bank, grabbed a root, and pulled himself to safety.
Anika climbed up onto a large stump on the side of the bank and waited. She looked down the track to see Danny struggling. For every two steps forward, he slipped one back.
‘COME ON!’ she screamed.
Danny tried to hug the side of the track, but every time the bank collapsed in on him. Not only that, but his ankles were being stripped bare by the mud, stones, and wood.
At last, he made it to Anika’s position and climbed up next to her. Gasping for breath, he rubbed his scratched, blood-covered ankles. ‘We’ll never make it. Not like this.’
‘We have to!’ Anika yelled into his ear. ‘Do you think it’ll be any easier out there?’
‘But it’s a massive ditch,’ Danny complained. ‘It’s become a gigantic storm drain. All the water’s cascading down here. It’s about as dangerous a place as you could wish.’
‘What’s your suggestion?’ Anika fired back.
‘Up the bank and crawl along the top,’ he yelled.
‘But it’s a mile of crawling—’
‘I know. One mile of not being swept away. And we can use the cover of the trees. There’s no other choice.’
Using the roots of the big oak they were sitting beneath, they climbed up the bank. On hands and knees, they made their way uphill, brushing aside the branches and thorns which willingly tore into them. After several minutes, Anika collapsed under the cover of the next large tree.
She rubbed her legs, pierced by blackthorn and dog rose. ‘Great idea, Danny!’
‘Look!’ he replied.
Through the veil of rain, she could just see a moving torrent of mud and branches halfway up the bank. It was flushing downhill at great speed.
‘OK, OK. Good decision.’ Anika drew in her breath. ‘How far up the track are we?’
‘Soon, we’ll come to the big oak with the swing rope. We can rest there.’ Danny had no idea whether this was true. But he noticed how Anika’s eyes kept closing. Giving her a target was probably a good idea.
Another huge boom clapped overhead, followed by a lightning bolt that smashed into the sluicing lane.
They cra
wled on. Danny led, with Anika closely behind. But, after a short while, when he turned, Anika wasn’t there.
He backtracked fast. Hanging halfway down the bank, dangling above the rushing waters, and held only by the thick tendrils of a rose, he found Anika screaming at him.
He grabbed the base of the rose and tried to swing it towards him. But the huge old rose was near to breaking point and sank further, its thorns digging into his hands. He swore.
There had to be a better way. He shuffled to a nearby hedge and noted a small ash tree. He bent down, put his hands around the base of the trunk, and tugged with all his might. The roots slipped their anchors and, with one last effort, it broke free.
In a flash, Danny turned the tree round, ripped off some branches, and lowered it to Anika. She grabbed hold of it and, as the rose tore into her, Danny heaved her out.
They moved under the relative shelter of a nearby oak tree and gasped for breath.
‘OK,’ Anika yelled between gasps. ‘So, we’ve learnt three things from that. The first is that the bank is collapsing, fast. The second is that I’ll be plucking out thorns from my skin for the next decade, and the third is that you’ve been working out without anyone knowing.’
Taking a wider berth away from the track, they continued on all fours. Every inch of track filled them with dread, the rain pummelling their backs, necks and heads until they were numb.
Eventually, they reached the large oak tree with the rope, which now dangled down from its branch into the running water.
Danny pushed Anika ahead and upwards, her hands gripping the nodules and hand-holds of slippery bark as though her life depended on it.
Where the branch with the rope met the trunk, a huge bough curved over like a mini cave. For the first time in ages, it offered them almost complete protection from the downpour. Danny sat with his back against the trunk and Anika sat in front of him, leaning into him.
They shut their eyes and in no time Anika fell asleep through sheer exhaustion.
Danny didn’t mind. He checked his watch. At least an hour until sundown.
The problem with being stationary was the cold, for now the wet had soaked, sponge-like, into every fibre of their bones. Body warmth was crucial.
Danny wrapped his arms around his frozen sister, her body rattling like an old engine. A rest was a good idea, but Danny knew they weren’t safe. At some point, they were going to have to keep going.
Sap
Waking up, Sap stared around his room and thumped the air. ‘What a blooming goal!’ he roared. He stared up at the ceiling, a big smile on his face, his head sizzling as though a rocket had detonated within it. His body tingled. ‘What a wonder-apple-tastic dream,’ he said out loud to the empty room.
His foot throbbed. ‘Ouch!’ he said. He looked down and found he’d walloped the end of his bed. Looking a little more closely, he discovered a hole in the wooden sheet that covered the bed-end. He studied it, pulling a few wooden splinters away, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.
Sap wiggled his toes, grateful that he’d lain on his bed with his shoes on. Leaning forward, he heard the rain pounding down and his heart sank. His earlier worries flew back to him. He kicked at the broken piece of wood, as though recreating the goal might lift his spirits. It wasn’t the same.
He climbed off his bed and peered out of the window, but the rain was so heavy he saw only grey lines.
His heart filled with heaviness.
Were the children safely tucked away in the school? What if they were outside trying to get home. What could he do?
If something happened, he was responsible.
Sap lay down.
He looked at the hole in the wooden panel. A tiny flicker of light, like a dim torch whose batteries were running low, leeched out from behind it.
Now, wasn’t that strange, he thought. A trick of the light?
He tried the light switches. None of the house lights were working.
Maybe he should crank up the generator. At least it would give him something to do. He swung his feet off the bed and, as he did so, the flicker from behind the wooden panel intensified for a second or two.
He inspected the hole a little closer and found that there was indeed a faint glow emanating from behind it. He prised it open with his fingers and, feeling more than a little intrigued, began to wrestle with the wooden surround that covered the bed-end.
Sap found a torch, and went to his tool cupboard under the stairs. He selected a crowbar and returned his room.
Sap wedged the metal in behind the panel. He attempted to lever the wood away by leaning on it gently but firmly, as he thought necessary. But whatever angle he tried, the panel would not budge.
He scratched his head and slipped out of the room, returning moments later with a flat head screwdriver and a hammer. Sap thrust the flat head into the tiniest of gaps and gave the end a smart whack with the hammer. The nails securing the panel lifted a fraction.
Placing the crowbar in the newly created gap, he levered it once more. After a few more hits, the panel popped off.
He rubbed his chin. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed,’ he said, as he ran his fingers over the three panels that now stared back at him. ‘What in the apples do we have here?’
In front of him were three beautifully inlaid panels that seemed to glow like three small monitors, rather like the children’s computers. The difference was that these were part of the bed, and were surrounded by similar, matching carvings.
He stared at them for a while, his face a picture of confusion and the wrinkles on his forehead deeply etched. Every now and then, images in the panels moved, causing Sap’s heart to race.
Was he seeing things?
He noticed that the overlying image was hazy, as though he were looking through water.
Maybe, for some reason, it was mirroring the weather right now.
As he became more accustomed to the panels, the images on them became a little clearer, until he realised there was a figure on each panel.
‘Three panels, three figures,’ he said out loud. ‘And why do they look so familiar?’
He studied the carvings to the sides of the screens.
He touched an ornate arrow icon that faced away from the first panel. To his astonishment, the image moved out, exactly like a zoom on a camera.
He did the same with the next panel, this time pressing on the arrow that turned in. The picture zoomed closer.
The blurry image showed a person in the panel who appeared to be walking, and tripping, as though trying to negotiate a pathway.
He rubbed his hand over another carved icon adjacent to the arrow, which he thought looked rather like a cloud. He pressed it and magically the picture transformed, the layer of rain disappearing from the image.
Old Sap gasped as he stared at the new image. That balance and gait could only belong to one person, and that person was Anika. He pressed the inward arrow a couple of times and saw her in extraordinary detail.
His heartbeat drummed as a thrill passed through him. He was viewing the children, right now, in real time. He realised that if he could determine which buttons to press, he’d be able to see exactly where they were. He did the same to the panel on the right, pressing the cloud and zooming out.
He clapped his hands. Danny! It was definitely Danny, with a kind of spiky hat on his head, sitting right next to Anika. So, where were they?
He zoomed out and saw a large tree.
The oak tree with the swing! It must be. He clenched his fists. He pulled out even further. Apples alive! Look at the track.
Oh deary! NO!
His heart sank. But, at least the twins were together. What about Olivia?
He scoured the left panel and picked out her outline. He honed in on the image, pressing first the cloud icon, and then the outward arrow, in order to try and figure out her position.
She was heading towards a large rock-like object with a sheer face, pushing past bushes and through trees. The only sheer roc
k he could think of was the cliff underneath the ruin. So, how come she’d separated from the others?
Sap breathed a sigh of relief. They were alive. He looked at his clock. How long was it since he’d been out for a walk? Two hours? He trembled.
That long?
His heart thumped. He needed to find them, fast.
Anika
Anika dozed, her head resting on Danny’s chest. Her mind swam. She dreamt fleetingly of the cottage, of Sap and their parents. She dreamt of scoring a goal with a sensational bicycle kick and Danny making a flying, fingertip save. The storm could have been a million miles away.
A noise clicked in her brain. It was that same crackling sound, like sizzling bacon. She studied the noise, her eyes shut tight. Then she realised what it was.
‘MOVE!’ she screamed. ‘NOW!’
Danny opened his eyes. ‘Eh? What?’
‘Incoming. I can hear it. MOVE!’
‘Where?’ Danny yelled. ‘We’re on top of a branch!’
The sizzling increased, the noise building miles above them.
‘Along it, Dan. GO!’
Danny did what he was told, and shuffled his bottom as fast as he could down the branch, the rain smashing down once more.
‘Further,’ she screamed. ‘As far as you can.’ She was skimming along, almost bouncing, when she stopped and wrapped her arms and legs around the thick branch. She hugged her body into the wood and hoped for the best.
Danny continued on his path, oblivious to Anika’s action. From out of nowhere, a terrific surge of power smashed into the tree. The branch severed like a beheading and crashed down, bridging the track just above the flowing mud.
Anika convulsed with electricity and her ears smashed with pain. She uncurled her body from the branch as rain crashed over her back and head.
Regaining her composure, she turned around.
Danny?
‘Danny!’ She called out, barely a croak coming from her. A tear rolled out of her eye and she smacked the bark. Even if she could scream for help, he’d never hear. She scanned the area.
