Upheaval

Upheaval

Suzanne Perazzini

Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Perazzini

Smashwords Edition

Cover illustration by Suzanne Perazzini © 2013

For information on the cover art, please contact suzanne.perazzini@orcon.net.nz

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Editor: Suzanne Perazzini

Chapter One

The river stretched out as still and clean as a sheet of glass. Kayaking these waters, using my arms to propel me, made me believe life didn’t completely suck.

Bad-boy Marsh, sitting behind me in the kayak, kept breaking the silence to curse me when I slacked off in the paddling department. And I understood his frustration. Eight other kayaks slid through the water well ahead of us, driven by muscles stronger than mine. But what did he expect? I’d attended this outdoor pursuits school for only a term and it was my third time in a kayak.

A flock of birds erupted from a nearby grove of trees, squawking in fear, wings flapping hard. I stopped paddling, startled at the sudden explosion of sound and looked about me. The leaves were turning as summer slid into fall, all gold and orange. Silence again.

Don’t think I’m doing all the work. Keep paddling, Marsh snapped.

I glanced back at him, at the frown of concentration on his face, his powerful arms pumping the paddle. I didn’t really know him, had been paired with him by the instructor. A weak with a strong I imagined to be the policy.

I don’t know, I said. Those birds...

A deer shot out of the trees, fled across the open grass. Another appeared at the rise of the hill, headed downward at full gallop. Dread uncurled inside my stomach.

"Something’s not right," I whispered, afraid to speak up in case that made it come true.

Whatever, Marsh replied. Now paddle or we’ll lose the others.

I looked at the kayaks well ahead, flashes of yellow which all of a sudden seemed grossly out of place. Only the kayak with that red-haired boy, Josh, and Darryl, broody son of the Romanian ambassador, remained close to us. That was because Josh was like me – skinny, no muscles.

Marsh dug me in the back. Paddle, damn-it.

I flinched at the jab. Marsh always swept clear a path around him with his scowls and, if necessary, his fists. I had never given him the time of day and here I was forced to kayak on the river with him.

A rumble broke the silence, came from out of nowhere. I froze in mid-action, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. The sound increased to a roar, like a jet plane rolling down the river towards us. The dread ignited into fear.

Marsh stopped paddling too. This is not cool.

I couldn’t speak at all, my voice box paralyzed. The roar gathered momentum, swooped through the valley.

Darryl and Josh had ceased moving too, their paddles drooping in the water.

Our kayak rolled, and I grabbed the side as water sloshed into the boat. I tried to scream but no sound came. The river moved, waves rising like humpback whales from the still calm. The sound intensified, claustrophobic in its intensity. I looked up at the mountain beyond the hills. A black scar of lava bubbled up from the crater, curled down through the snow, the leading edge flickered with fingers of fire. I stared, horrified.

Get off the river, climb high, our instructor shouted as he sped past, his paddle dipping and rising as he rode the waves, racing ahead to warn the others.

His voice galvanized me into action. I dug deep, turned the kayak and paddled. Marsh responded and we pitched across the water towards shore.

Ahead, the land wavered in time with our rolling - rocks dislodged, fell, trees swayed, shaking their roots.

Darryl and Josh’s kayak stayed alongside us, sunlight glancing off their straining arms as they struggled for control. Their wild eyes reflected back my fear, increasing my own.

Upstream, shots of yellow flashed as the other kayaks fought against the waves. The instructor had reached them and they had turned but they were far from the shore.

The roar was so unreal now I could feel its vibrations in my bones. The waves rolled high. Screams came from upstream. I hoped they paddled fast. My muscles burned as I fought the powerful force of this treacherous water.

Keep it steady, I shrieked at Marsh.

What the hell do you think I’m trying to do? he growled back.

I mightn’t know him well, but now I needed him as I had never needed anyone. What’s happening? I groaned.

An earthquake, of course.

But the mountain.

Look out, Marsh shouted.

I looked to the side, and died inside. A curling wave bore down on us. The muddy khaki monster hovered, playing with its power, mesmerizing me. I relaxed, the inevitability of it turning my limbs to putty, flexible and useless.

It broke. The wave hit like a falling wall, flinging me from the kayak. Down, down, I went, the water beating me, ripping at me. I hit the stony riverbed, tumbled along, my body like seaweed waving in a stream. Bubbles burst past my face, clouding my vision. My lungs burned, a ball of fire in my chest. I needed air. I craved air.

A hand closed over my wrist like a vice, pulled me upward. I broke the surface, gulped in oxygen. Sweet relief. Another wave hit me, but the hand didn’t let go, hauled me up again, dragged me through the water. I struck out for the shore and only then did the hand release its hold.

The ground rose up to meet me and I scrambled to my feet, waded to the river’s edge. Darryl walked beside me, tall, dark, drenched. I didn’t know him well either. He attended a class ahead of me, a loner.

You saved me in there, I spluttered.

You were drowning. His eyes on me, worried, a layer of fear beneath.

Ahead, Marsh and Josh ran across the shingle to the hill. The ground swayed and I tumbled to the ground. Darryl pulled me to my feet.

I looked behind at the churning river, saw the sharp bright sparks of colour still in the main stream, far from safety. My heart sank. My eyes flicked up to the far mountain. Steam and fire spurted into the air, angry and menacing. The world was coming apart at the seams.

Hurry, Darryl said, a deep urgency in his voice. He said to climb.

I ran now, terror giving my legs speed. The earth was convulsing, turning itself inside out, spewing its fiery contents onto the land. We needed to escape.

A boom resounded through the valley, broke above the roar. Startled, I stopped, steadied my legs, turned and looked upstream towards the gorge. A great roll of muddy water tumbled through the gap as if a cork had been removed. The waters spilled out of the gorge in a frothing frenzy, picking up everything in their path. A monster wave rushed down the riverbed straight for the kayaks.

I screamed a warning, clenched my fists in useless rage. They didn’t have a hope. I turned and ran upward, using hands and feet to move faster, grasping at roots and low vegetation. The boom of the advancing water filled my ears, excluded communication. The water churned behind us, advancing. I could feel its icy clutches clawing at my back. Ahead, Marsh, Darryl and Josh scrambled for their lives. Death could come in many ways, but I preferred not to drown. I didn’t want all that life flashing before my eyes stuff. Quick oblivion would be preferable.

I peeped behind. The wave gushed and tumbled up the slope towards us, filled with churning mud and forest floor debris. We couldn’t beat it.

It’s coming, I screeched.

Darryl turned, his eyes widened. Grab the uphill side of a tree, he yelled.

I skirted around a tree, wrapped my arms about the trunk and clasped a low branch on the far side. The smell of tainted earth in the water was powerful in my nostrils. I closed my eyes, my face up against the trunk. Fear consumed me.

The water hit, a sledgehammer striking the tree and my hands. It rushed around the trunk, smashed me from the sides, ripping at me, trying to force me to let go. Petrified, I clung to the tree.

I shut my eyes and mouth as the water flowed over me, dragged at me. I held my breath, knew it would pass, blocked the panic rising in my chest. What if it never receded? What if this was it? Seventeen years of life and it was all over – snuffed out before I could experience anything outside of school.

Just when I knew I would die with my arms wrapped around this tree, the water lowered. I gulped in a breath of air like a beached fish, opened my eyes. I had survived.

Don’t let go, Darryl yelled across at me.

I raised my head to see what he meant, and the water struck me from behind on its way back down to the riverbed. It slammed my face against the tree. Pain shot through me, divided and multiplied. I couldn’t move. The water sucked at my clothes, pinned me to the trunk, my face screaming at the beating.

And then it was gone. The earth stilled.

Nyeta, Darryl called out tentatively.

Slowly, I pulled my face away from the tree, afraid of the damage I had suffered. It felt like sandpaper had been rubbed over my skin. My face, I said to him, touching my cheek. I flinched and closed my eyes.

Darryl appeared beside me, placed a finger under my chin and turned my face towards him. His eyebrows shot up. You’re bloody.

I tasted the salty tang of my own blood, felt the burn of raw skin. How bad is it?

He pulled off his sodden t-shirt. Hold still while I wipe the blood away.

I stared up into his eyes. They were as dark as his hair with little distinction between the pupil and the iris. I flinched when he struck raw skin.

He frowned in concentration, his hands gentle. Sorry, he said.

Where are the others? I whispered, gritting my teeth against the pain. My body and my mind were in shock. In other circumstances I might have appreciated this hot guy so close to me, his eyes full of sympathy. He had saved my life in the river and now he was playing nursemaid.

We’re here, a voice said.

I looked up to see Josh and Marsh. Relief rushed over me. At least four of us had survived. But the others?

I looked down at the scene below in stunned horror. The far hill had split open, a crevice running jaggedly down to the riverbed. The river had widened to a lake, steam rising in curling fingers towards the surrounding hills.

No sign of the kayaks.

In disbelief, I slumped down, buried my head in my hands, yelped at the contact with the bloody skin on my face. My chest ached with loss.

Josh knelt beside me, patted my shoulder. I raised my head but he was staring down at the river too, shock clouding his usually clear green eyes. His face was pale beneath his freckles, his mouth slack.

Darryl stayed beside me, his black shoulder-length hair wet and sleek against his head. His skin was naturally pale like that of a vampire, but he had no fangs and no obvious need to lap at my blood.

It’s stopped, he said tentatively, perhaps not believing it.

Marsh sat to one side on a rock, his elbows on his knees, a frown on his face. Do you think it happened only here in the valley?

My thoughts flew to my family - to my parents and Vance, my older brother. Surely it was contained to this valley and possibly the next. I looked again at the mountain and wished I hadn’t. It was spewing fireballs into the air like giant fireworks. It lay at least fifteen miles away and yet it had been affected. My family lived in the city, not that much further away in the other direction. I scrubbed at my head, tried to squeeze out the thoughts.

Josh shook his head. It was a massive one. It will have been widespread. And it’s not over yet, he said, a tremor in his voice.

And how do you know that? Marsh asked, with a curl of scorn on his lips.

Josh flinched, pink rising up his neck, flushing into his porcelain face like watercolour applied with a brush.

He’s smart like that, I said, feeling the need to defend him. He knows all sorts of stuff. In science class he always answered the teacher’s questions, turned his homework in on time and got the best grades.

Whatever, Marsh replied. He drew in a breath at a sudden realization, jumped to his feet. My brother’s back at the school. We need to get there.

Darryl looked again at the river. We should try to find them.

Did you see how high that water was? Marsh said, hiking up the camouflage trousers he always wore, even when rafting. They’re all dead.

I couldn’t believe they were all gone. Just like that – a puff of smoke or at least a shake of the land and they didn’t exist anymore, not even their bodies. But we should at least..., I said, wanting to do something, anything to feel less helpless. You never knew...

He’s right, Josh said. They couldn’t have survived that.

I glanced again at the mountain. The lava flow had spread its tendrils across the land, following the contours of the ground, the orange glow stark and terrifying.

That volcano won’t be a problem for us, will it? I said, unwrapping my long, wet hair from around my neck. It clung so hard, it felt like it was strangling me. Perhaps I should have cut it off when my mother told me to. More appropriate at an outdoor pursuits school, she had said.

Shouldn’t, Darryl answered getting up. It’s not close enough to be a problem and the wind’s blowing any ash away from us.

Maybe not that volcano, Josh added, but there could be more we can’t see from here.

Marsh jumped down from the rock, landed in front of Josh. What are you doing at an outdoor pursuits school anyway? Not quite the thing for a know-it-all.

Josh looked at his feet. My father wanted to man me up.

I took Josh’s arm. Come on, let’s get moving. Don’t worry about him. He’s just a jerk.

Marsh’s eyes flashed fire at me but I didn’t care. He stomped off across the hill towards the school down valley, trying to push his wet hair back into its usual spiky effect.

I shivered as the adrenaline seeped away and the chill in the air settled into my bones.  The realization of what had happened crept upon me, settling in my gut like a stone. All those school pupils dead. Mr Hodgkin, Emily, Prue, Jason, Phil and so many more in those kayaks. I hadn’t been close to any of them as I was so new at this school. The one person I had connected with was Gene who did abseiling instead of kayaking. She would be in class right now.

I thought again of my parents and Vance. But I convinced myself the city was far enough away, that they were safe. That way I could stay sane.

"Why did you come to the school?" Josh asked me, staying close as if seeking my protection from Marsh.

I needed to man up too.

Josh laughed, relief on his face. I felt for him and what he went through at the hands of people like Marsh.

Actually, I admitted, my mother thought I needed to come out of my shell – her words, not mine. She thinks I spend too much time by myself, reading and day-dreaming.

What’s wrong with that? Darryl said, stopping and waiting for us to catch up.

Marsh walked well ahead, on his own path back to his brother.

I shrugged. Don’t know.

My mother and father were extroverts with a capital E, always out socialising or filling the house with friends. They wanted me to be a carbon copy of themselves. The way they lived was the only way according to them. So they sent me away to live in the middle of a bunch of people twenty-four seven. The culture shock had rocked my foundations and I wouldn’t ever get used to it. I was a recluse and that was that.

How long have you been at the school? I asked Darryl, rubbing my hands up and down my bare arms to create some kind of warmth. We had a couple of miles to walk, soaking wet, dressed in board shorts and tee-shirts.

Two years. This school’s got a good music programme as well as the outdoor stuff so my father sent me here. His hair flopped forward, covering his eyes as he spoke about his father.

So you’re a musician? Josh said. I play the cello.

A smile curled about Darryl’s lips. I play electric guitar and the drums. He stopped still, put his hand out to halt us. What’s that?

The same rumble from deep in the earth. Not again. The ground shuddered, an animal shaking off parasites. Darryl dropped to the ground.

I threw myself down beside him and his arm snaked over me in protection. The erupting mountain growled a warning. The ground beneath us rippled, shook, the roar louder now.

The mountain’s going to blow big time, Darryl mumbled.

I glanced up at the debris pouring high into the sky, the bright orange of fire being catapulted into the air.

I pushed Darryl off. We have to get back. I jumped to my feet, stumbled as the ground hiccupped, fell to my knees.

Indecision ran across Darryl’s features. The instinct to lie low was strong. Okay, but eyes peeled.

Marsh ahead had not stopped. He was running now.

We ran downhill after him through the rough tussock grass, our bodies fighting to stabilize our flight. The rolling of the ground was slow and wide. We ran, tripped and fell, scrambled to our feet and ran again. We reached the trees and they gave us something to hold onto, to push against but they also scratched at our skin, smacked at our faces, bashed at our bodies.

And it stopped.

We ran a few more paces and slowed, paused, looked around.

Is that it? I whispered, afraid to let the earth hear us in case it lashed out again. This living, breathing creature underground was our enemy and we had to do all we could to appease it. It had no mercy on us.

Darryl spun around, scoured the terrain. I don’t know but let’s get our asses moving before it returns.

Josh, what’s going on? I asked, as we set off at a fast pace following Marsh along the valley floor beside the swollen river.

These earthquakes are big and they’re probably setting off volcanoes all along the fault line. This could be far reaching. It’s just as well we’re not on the coastline. If the center of these earthquakes is at sea, then a tidal wave will develop for sure. He sounded puffed from running but sure of what he was saying, this being an area he felt confident in but it didn’t stop his voice from shaking.

But what about those who live on the coast? I said, my heart racing at the thought of the inhabitants on the coastal plains of the city.

He glanced at me, his fear naked now. They won’t have much warning.

You’re scaring me, I said.

My parents live right on the coast, Darryl said.

I heard the strength and the doubt. All I wanted was to get to the school and find other people - adults who would know what to do, who would take care of everything. I might be a loner but I was not self-sufficient. Adults had their place. If only my parents were here now. That stone in my gut shifted, rested on my lungs, hindering my breathing.

Marsh disappeared around the last turn of the river before the school, which had been built high above the waterline, nestled into the hill. The wave wouldn’t have reached it.

We raced around the corner after him and stopped dead. He had fallen to his knees, his hands hanging loosely beside him.

I looked up the hill to the school. My heart stopped beating. The buildings had disappeared, leaving twisted metal and rubble. A cloud of dust hung in the air like a malevolent angel hovering overhead.

Marsh let out a bellow of agony, which bounced against the hills and returned tenfold. It rang through my head, reverberated with grief.

I ran to him, dropped down beside him. Maybe they got out, I said, gasping to control my breathing, not believing my own words.

My brother, he moaned, raking his fingers through his hair. My father told me to look after him.

Tears flowed from my eyes, ran down my cheeks. They couldn’t all be dead. Some would have survived. Let’s go see, I whispered.

But I knew they would all have been inside with class in session, all in that one concrete building which was no more.

Chapter Two

Concrete and metal supports lay in a pile where the courtyard had been. Cracks, groans and thuds rattled the rubble as metal bent, concrete split and hunks of building continued to fall.

I pulled up my t-shirt over my mouth to filter out the dust. My legs shook against each other as I walked on, hoping to find Gene. Hoping to find anyone. No human sounds could be heard, the agony of the building taking center stage.

Marsh rushed about, looking for his brother, and we listened for any voice – a moan or a cry. Anything to indicate someone had survived.

Darryl and Josh stood in the rubble, rigid, stunned, staring at the remains of the school.

What’s his name? I called out to Marsh.

Oliver, he yelled. Oliver, where are you?

A whimper.

Shush, listen, I said, turning. I hear something.

Again the whimper. It came from over by the orchard.

This way, I shouted to the others.

Oliver, Marsh called out.

I stared in disbelief. The ground had opened up ahead, leaving a gaping chasm. I walked up to it carefully, afraid the edges would crumble. I breathed deeply, stepped back. It was so deep. I didn’t suffer from vertigo but this was wild - deep-gut scary.

We’ll need to go around it, Darryl said, heading up hill.

We reached a block of concrete, protruding from the mass of rubble. Twisted metal rods stuck out like monstrous spider legs, tangled and dangerous. In silence, we scrambled up it, listening for the whimper.

At the top, I paused, looked down at the car park, at the twisted chassis of destroyed cars squashed by falling concrete.

I saw a movement. Not the direction of the whimper. I see something moving, I said.

Let’s split up, Darryl answered. Two that way, two to the orchard.

Who made you leader? Marsh spat out.

Darryl ignored him, took me by the arm and we headed downwards towards the car park. I glanced behind and saw Marsh and Josh continue up the edge of the chasm, searching for a way across to the orchard.

Darryl leaped to the ground, reached up to help me. I looked down at him, saw him properly for the first time. I had noticed him several times before at the school even though he was not in my year. I had noticed his air of independence, his moodiness, his leather jacket. He was often alone like me. Not alone like Josh because people shunned him, but alone through choice. He spoke little, only when necessary. He reminded me of what I imagined Jean Claude, the vampire, looked like in the Anita Blake stories I loved so much. He even had the same dark hair and pale skin. My gaze had often followed him along the hallway, across the schoolyard. And now here he was, holding my hand as I clambered down to join him.

Why are you always helping me? I said.

He raised his eyebrows. You’re a female. Men help females.

What? Maybe he was Jean-Claude from another time, another century.

Where I come from, we look after our womenfolk.

Romania?

He nodded, walked off ahead.