Authors: Kara Karnatzki

Rain In My Heart (4 page)

Chapter Four

‘
This is
n’
t happening
!’
said Greg.
‘
No way
!
’

None of us could believe it, but when the wave of water rushed all the way up to the walls of Vis A and the spray hit the very window we were gazing out of, we knew we
had
to believe it. The force was immense. Leon leapt to the floor.

‘
Everybody get down
!’
he cried.

We all did as he said. Except Byron. Byron climbed onto the sideboard in front of the window, stood up straight, and pressed his face to the glass. I peeped at him from behind my fingers. So did Curtis.

‘
Are you mad
?’
Curtis hissed, tugging his trouser leg
.‘
Get down
!
’

Byron ignored him. He just stared into the chaos. He did
n’
t look frightened or shocked. In fact, he seemed completely calm. For a moment, I actually thought I saw him smile. After a minute, the rest of us sat up.

‘
Is it over
?’
said Gemma, her voice wobbling.

Leon looked up. He prodded Byron.

‘
What can you see? Are we safe yet
?
’

Byron shrugged.

‘
Safe-ish.'

Slowly, we got to our kneesand went to the window to survey the damage. The car park was now a fast moving river. The flow of water was
n’
t stopping and there were uprooted trees thrashing in the swell. The torrent had smashed through the mobile classrooms at the back of the playing field and had rocked them from their foundations. Two of them were on their sides and were being buffeted by the deluge.

I wanted to throw up. My eyes filled with tears. Gemma hugged me, but it was obvious she was as worried as I was. The boys looked alarmed. Curtis seemed dazed. Greg was incredulous. Everyone started talking in stern, hushed voices, butLeon was the first to mention the wor
d‘
floo
d’
.

‘
I bet you anything tha
t’
s what it is
,’
he said.
‘I’
ve seen this sort of thing before, in India. Flash floods. They get them all the time
.
’

‘
When have
you
been to India
?’
said Curtis.

‘
It was on the Discovery Channel, duh
.
’

Curtis shook his head. 'But what if it'snot a flood? What if i
t’
s th
e…
whaddaya-call-i
t…
you kno
w…
the thing at the end of the world?
'

'
Apocalypse?

'Yeah, that.'

‘
Trust me, i
t’
s
not
the Apocalypse
,’
said Byron coolly.

Leon leapt onto the window ledge and stood alongside him.

'Whatever it is,' he said, 'it's bad.'

He turned back to us. He looked like he wanted to have authority, but his eyes darted from side to side, giving away his fear.

‘
I think we need to get out,' he said.
‘
Put it this way, if the school building is about to fill with water, we do
n’
t want to be trapped inside. Let's check the doors
.
’

Without hesitation, Leon, Curtis, Greg and Gemma ran to the exit. I thought about following them, but I could see Byron lingering. My conscience told me to stay with him.

‘
You okay
?’
I asked.

‘
Yes
,’
he said quietly, without looking up.

‘
You do
n’
t seem too worried
?
’

‘
No
.
’

‘
Pretty scary though. I mean, my hear
t’
s still racing
-
’

‘
I think I feel more impressed than scared
,’
said Byron.
‘
Water might be powerful, but it is
n’
t cruel. It does
n’
t mean to hurt or destroy. It just does what it does
.
’

Then for the first time, he made eye contact with me.

‘
Kind of odd,is
n’
t it?' he said.
‘
That peoplesee forces of nature, such as floods and earthquakes, as evil things. We describe them as disasters. We say the
y’
re terrible. Are we really so afraid of natur
e’
s power that we have to pretend i
t’
s the bad guy
?
’

I did
n’
t know what to say. I shrugged, wished
I’
d never started the conversation. Then he smiled again.

‘
Kate Archer
,’
he said.
‘
I like your drawings. I think your mural will be good
.
’

‘
Uh, thanks,' I said, surprised he was still thinking but the mural - and equally surprised that he knew my name. 'Although it's not really
my
mural
,’
I explained.
‘
Just something silly, for a detention - '

I paused, thought about what to say next.

'Can I ask?' I said, eventually. 'Why did you stand up on the sideboard
?
’

He pushed his glasses up his nose, gave a sigh.

‘
Why did
you
lie down?

‘
Becaus
e…
because Leon told us to. Because the water was coming at us
.
’

‘
Unfortunately, your friend Leon missed the point that water will find the lowest escape route possible. Lying down is the worst thing to do
.
’

‘
Oh
.
’

‘
In a flood situation, i
t’
s better to get as high as you can. Do
n’
t worry, Kate. We are, by default, in the safest place we could be. The art room is the highest point in the school, and in fact, the highest point in the whole of Hurst. W
e’
re safe. Trapped, but safe
.
’

He smiled again.

‘
The flood is only going in one direction and tha
t’
s down, down the hill, past the cricket pitch, through the back streets, into the town centre
-
’

‘
The centre
?
’

‘
For certain. Hurst High Street will probably be the worst hit
.
’

I froze.

The High Street?

Where my parents were meeting friends for coffee. Where my sister, Ella, was getting a manicure. Where Leo
n’
s parents were buying a new lawn mower. And poor Miss Nevis was driving her yellow Mini.

Chapter Five

The others returned. They looked as anxious as they had before they'd gone to check the exit. Leon flanked his hands.

'It looks like we can get out, but the water is
right
outside the door - '

'And it's rising,' added Greg. '
Fast
.'

'So, what now?'

I could see through the window that the water was rushing down both sides of the school. The entire building had become an island. The ground floor was more or less submerged. All I could think was what Byron had said, about being up high, on the top floor.

‘
We need to leave
!’
said Gemma.
‘
Ther
e’
s so much water! Like, where the hel
l’
s it all coming from
?
’

Byron glanced at her.

‘
The River Slode
,
’ he said, as though it was obvious.

‘
You meanthat shallow trickle at the back of the playing field that smells of bogs
?’
said Curtis
.‘
The one that dries up every summer? I do
n’
t
think
so. What about you, Kate? Yo
u’
re clever. Wha
t’
s your brainwave
?
’

I shrugged. I did
n’
t know. I did
n’
t understand. I was never very good at Geography.

‘
I - I think Byron might be right
,’
I said.
‘
He seems to know
-
’

‘
I do
n’
t think i
t’
s the river at all
,’
said Leon, cutting in.
‘
I think i
t’
s come from the lake at the top of the hill, probably burst its banks or something. And once i
t’
s been emptied, the flow of water will stop
.
’

‘
Trust me, i
t’
s the river
,’
said Byron.
‘
What do you think feeds the lake
?
’

Before he could argue his case, however, the others stopped listening. Gemma launched another conversation over his head.

‘
We should call our families,' she said. 'Check they're okay.'

Leon agreed.

‘
W
e’
ve all got our phones, right? Priority number one - let's make contact with the outside world.'

We began to dial, text, email, but it was fruitless.

‘
No signal
,’
said Curtis.
‘
And virtually no battery
.
’

‘
Charge it
?
’

‘
No charger. Lost it last week
.
’

'Oh, crap!' said Gemma. '
I’
ve only got two per cent.'

‘
Fifteen
,’
said Leon.

‘
Eleven for me
,’
said Greg.

‘
Anyone bought a charger with them
?’
said Gemma, frantic, eyes wide. 'I've
got
to get through to my house.'

We all shook our heads.

‘
Each of you has a different phone
,’
said Byron.
‘
So someone els
e’
s charger is
n’
t going to help
.
’

Gemma scowled.

'Smart arse,' she growled - her eyes narrowed to slits and I could tell she was getting ready to hate.

For a few minutes, everyone stood in their own little worlds, ears pressed to their handsets, crossing fingers, pressing buttons, call after call. But no one got through. Either the airwaves were blocked or no one was able to answer.

‘
Like, what's with the totalairwave breakdown
?’
said Curtis. 'I mean, it's not as if we live in the Third World - '

He stared out of the window.

‘
Actually, I take that back. Maybe this is the end of western civilisation? Look at it! The only bit of dry land left is that crappy hump of rubble where the fourth years hang out
-
’

He pointed to the overgrown ridge that ran along the back of the school, all the way from Vis A to the main reception at the other end.

‘
You know what we need
?’
he said.
‘
Surf boards! Find me something board-shaped and I'll become Hurst's first inland wave rider! We'll make a hot clip for YouTube - '

'Forgodsake, Curtis!' snapped Greg. 'Just for
once
, can you stop talking out of your arse - or, I promise you, I'll shove your witless, gobby face into the flood! Can't you see this is
majorly
bad?'

Greg wasn't much of a talker. He tended to keep his profile low, hid his mood beneath a flop of jet-black fringe. But I'd spent enough time with him (via Gemma) to know that when people wound him up, he didn't hold back. He reminded me of an injured wolf - if you came across one, you'd feel sorry for it, but you'd be a little scared too, in case it went for you. I guess he had his reasons. I'd probably be the same if I lost my mum.

In response to his outburst, Curtis started to sulk.

‘
Just trying to lighten the atmosphere, dude. No need to throw a wobbly.'

‘
Like we care
,’
sneered Gemma.

I stepped between them.

‘
At least w
e’
re safe up here
,’
I said, trying to keep the peace.
‘
I
t’
ll take a lot for the water to reach this high. The real issue is whether our families are okay
-
’

Gemma now turned to me.

‘
Kate
!
’ she raged.
‘
Do you
have
to keep going
on
about our families?'

I blinked, surprised by her outburst. I mean,
she'd
been the one who'd made the biggest fuss about calling home. She huffed, flicked her tongue stud, stood up in a temper.

‘I’
ve had enough of this,' she hissed. '
I’
m not hanging round here waiting to be washed away. I'm leaving
.
’

‘
You
ca
n’
t
,’
I argued.
‘
I
t’
s too dangerous. Le
t’
s keep calling until we get through to someone, then we'll ask for help
-
’

‘
Oh, grow up, Kate! Grow some guts!'

I hated it when Gemma got like this, all prickly and spiteful. Sometimes it felt like she took everything out on other people, namely me. She, Leon and Curtis started talking at once, arguing about how to get out, how to get home. Curtis suggested a raft. Gemma made threats about swimming. Leon started raving about some survival course h
e’
d been on with his brother.

Then Byron spoke up.

‘
SH
E’
S RIGHT
,’
he said, in a voice that was crisper than all of theirs.

They stopped, turned towards him. He was sitting cross-legged on top of the table, twiddling a pencil.

‘
What do
you
know, Knitwear
?’
said Curtis.

‘
I know that Kat
e’
s right
,’
said Byron.
‘
W
e’
re safe up here. We should stay
.
’