Fault Line (15 page)

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Authors: Chris Ryan

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Juvenile Nonfiction, #Science & Nature, #Environmental Conservation & Protection

BOOK: Fault Line
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She listened. Just shifting debris; nothing human. All the sounds were coming from the room where she had been.
Then Amber saw a big huddled shape on the floor. It was about the shape and size of a torso. She looked away, her heart in her throat, her thoughts running at double speed. She would have to look again. If it was a body, she couldn’t leave it there. What if the children found it?
She took a deep breath. She’d look again in a moment. In a moment.
OK. She’d look at it now.
She waved the light sticks over it. Her eyes were closed. She made herself open them.
It was a bergen. Its top was still tied shut.
She unfastened it and spotted explosives and the detonating kit. Alex’s. His bergen must have a charmed life. That was the second time it had escaped being crushed when other bergens had perished.
Tears pricked her eyes. She wiped them away.
She continued towards the jade room. With every step she searched the floor with the light sticks. It seemed to take ages to cross the dinosaur gallery. She remembered it being about twenty metres across but now the room seemed to open out into hectares. She peered into the jade gallery. It was the same story. Rubble, debris. Smashed glass glinted like heaps of jewels. Presumably among them were baubles of jade.
It didn’t sound like anyone was in here either. She could hear mobile phones trilling softly, but they were behind her, in the direction she’d come from. Amber saw a phone on the ground and picked it up. She tried the emergency services again. Still the recorded message.
She turned and picked her way back. It was like walking along a rocky cliff at night. On she went. When her light sticks caught the big urn again she knew she was nearly back in the axe room.
What was that? She flashed the light sticks on it again.
It was moving.
Something smashed in the jade room. It must be an aftershock. There were screams from the other room. The urn was toppling towards her. She grabbed it and staggered under it – it was like catching a big clay ball. She felt the earth quieten under her feet again.
‘Not much point in saving that,’ said a voice behind her.
It had a slight Spanish accent. Amber whirled, her arms still tight around the urn. ‘Paulo!’ She put the vase down and hugged him hard. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yeah,’ he said.
She ran the light sticks over him. He was cut and battered, his combat fatigues smeared with white dust, but otherwise he was intact.
Paulo was staring at her, like the others had been. Is he in shock too? thought Amber.
‘Hold still,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a big gash on your forehead.’
‘Oh, so that’s why people have been staring at me,’ she said.
Paulo had a look at it. ‘It’s stopped bleeding. Ideally we should wash it but I think you’ll live. Any concussion?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She sighed and gave him another hug. ‘It is
so
good to see you. Where were you?’
‘In the jade gallery.’
‘But I was just in there.’
‘Yeah, I know. I saw your sticks. I called you and you ignored me and started to phone someone. So I decided to give you a surprise.’
Normally she’d have given him a thump but she felt too drained – and too pleased to see him. She sighed. ‘There are so many strange noises in here. Listen to those cries. You have to tune them out. It’s awful. Was there anyone back there with you?’
‘I don’t think so. I didn’t hear anyone. I heard the screams out here and thought this is where everyone must be. But it’s so dark . . .’ He didn’t want to finish the sentence.
‘The dinosaur room’s a mess,’ said Amber. ‘We can’t search in there without proper light.’
They were both trying to avoid saying the obvious; that that’s where the others had been.
‘We got out,’ said Paulo. ‘They probably got out too.’
Amber nodded. ‘Right.’
The sounds of activity from the axe room were becoming more organized. ‘Sounds like you’ve been busy,’ said Paulo. ‘Come on, let’s go back there.’
When in doubt, focus on a task. It stopped you thinking of unpleasant possibilities. ‘I’ve got casualties for you to look at,’ said Amber. She hefted up Alex’s bergen. It might be useful.
Alex had little recollection of the actual quake. He just ran. And when he could run no longer he threw himself on the ground and curled up in a ball. For a long time he lay there while the earth shuddered around him. Gradually it steadied and calmed.
Then he heard the screams next door. That’s when he knew he wasn’t alone, that this wasn’t a crazy dream – although it felt like a fit of madness. He wanted to scream himself but he fought to hold it back. His survival instincts were kicking him like a persistent bully. Do something.
Orientate yourself. He looked at his watch. Find out what time it is, and you instantly feel more in charge of things. He couldn’t see the face of his watch. There was no light. No light at all.
Was he blind? Maybe that’s what was wrong. Maybe he’d been hit on the head.
But no, he was seeing vague shadows. That’s when another piece of information came back to him, like a picture seen on a TV screen. There were very few windows in the museum. It had a few horizontal slits high up, like windows in a military bunker. It seemed to have been built to keep light out. Well, they probably had to protect the artefacts.
When he envisaged the high slitted windows he remembered where he’d been running to. It was like he was reloading the memories, piece by piece. Now he had the map of the place in his head. He remembered he’d been running to the doors at the entrance, trying to get out.
He felt behind him. Now he had his back to rubble. So where on earth was he?
He’d got up on his hands and knees – or rather on one hand and both knees. He cursed the arm in the sling. Carefully he felt in front of him.
His arm had met only thin air. The floor had just vanished.
16 T
HE
P
IT
Paulo squatted down beside the children. ‘Hi,’ he grinned. ‘Beatriz, will you let me see this arm?’
A lone mobile was ringing. Another started again. All these phones, hidden in the wreckage, thought Amber. Did that mean there were people under there too? She had an idea. She got out the mobile she’d found. Li had had her mobile with her. Why not try calling it?
Rosa tapped her on the shoulder. ‘There’s someone out there,’ she said quietly. ‘Someone in the next gallery. I heard a voice.’
Someone needed help. Calling Li would have to wait. Amber jumped to her feet. ‘How long ago?’ They hadn’t checked the entrance gallery yet.
‘A few minutes.’
‘Good girl. Wait here.’ She went past Paulo, who was joking with Beatriz to keep her calm as he examined a gash on her arm where the block had cut her. ‘Paulo, Rosa’s heard a voice. I’m going to check it out.’
Amber stepped into the entrance gallery. After the axe room it was stygian black. She waited for her eyes to adjust. ‘Hello?’
‘Amber, is that you?’
The accent was unmistakable. English, a very odd variety. Not Am-ber but Amb-er. Geordie. ‘Alex!’ yelled Amber. ‘Where are you?’
‘Here.’
She looked around. It was pitch black everywhere. She might have been looking into a cave or she might have had a mask in front of her eyes. ‘Where?’
Something was moving about in front of her too. It was more than just the rubble settling. It sounded deliberate.
‘Hello?’ called a voice. It was high and panicky. ‘Hello?’ A woman.
Amber tried to peer into the dark even though she knew seeing was impossible. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. But I can’t get out. I can’t see anything.’
‘I’m Alex.’
‘I’m Amber.’
‘Alex who? Amber who?’
‘We’re the backpackers,’ said Amber. Her voice echoed across the room.
‘Where are the children?’ called the woman.
‘We’re getting them to safety. Are you one of the teachers?’
‘Yes. I’m Señora Marquez.’
‘Amb-er?’ called Alex. ‘What time is it?’
‘Why?’ said Amber. ‘Have you got to be somewhere?’ She hadn’t even thought about the time. She looked at her watch, waving her light sticks over it. ‘Ten-thirty.’ And then her brain made sense of the dim images she’d been seeing in the room. ‘Oh.’
‘What?’ said Alex. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘The floor’s given way. Felipe said there was a basement, didn’t he?’
‘I think so.’
‘The floor’s collapsed into it. This room’s a great big pit.’
Alex shuddered. It was weird enough hearing Amber’s voice coming from a tiny point of green light. Hearing her describing things he couldn’t see, couldn’t even imagine, was worse.
‘Alex, are you hurt?’
‘No. I can wait here for a while. It seems solid enough.’
‘Señora Marquez?’
‘I’m not going anywhere, honey.’
‘I’ll be back when I can.’
‘Amb-er?’ called Alex. ‘Who else have you found?’
‘Paulo.’
Alex picked up on the note in her voice. She hadn’t said anything about the others. He wasn’t going to ask. ‘You take care,’ he said.
‘OK. Back soon.’
He saw her move back into the other room, the light sticks reflecting green off her shiny dark skin, melting into the black.
He had a moment’s panic: he was in the dark again. He told himself to calm down. It wasn’t so bad now. Amber was just in the next room; so was Paulo. And Señora Marquez was out there in the dark, waiting with him. Just knowing they were there made everything a whole lot better. Up until then all he’d been able to hear were sounds of earth falling, the masonry slowly crumbling, like water dripping in a cave.
Now he knew there were people alive in the next room. People moving about, helping each other, getting each other out. Making jokes. Surely the worst was over.
A green and orange glow appeared at the corner of the room.
‘Amber?’
‘Yep, it’s me. Señora Marquez, I’m going to throw down a light stick to you. Ready?’
Alex watched it tumble like a fluorescent candy bar. He saw hands scrabble towards it.
It steadied, lighting up a giant set of eyes and a sensuous mouth.
It was like their nightmares coming to life. A giant, still cold face lying there in the dark. Alex yelped. Amber shrieked. Señora Marquez dropped the light stick and made a high sobbing sound.
A voice came from high up, on the balcony. ‘It’s OK, it’s not a body. It’s a stele. It’s stone.’
Alex’s pulse quickened. ‘Li?’
‘Li?’ called Amber.
Now Li could see them. A white lithe-limbed figure in the doorway – that was Amber. Someone in the pit beside the fallen stele. Alex on the edge of the pit. ‘Yeah. It’s me. Alex, don’t move or you’ll be in deep do-do.’
‘Li,’ called Alex, ‘have you got the night vision goggles?’
‘Certainly have.’
‘Can you see the entrance?’
‘Yeah. It’s right behind you. Blocked.’
She saw Alex’s shoulders slump with disappointment.
‘Li, do you need help?’ called Amber. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, I’m fine. And I can probably see a lot better than you guys can so don’t worry about rescuing me, I’ll sort myself out. How are the others?’
‘Paulo’s in the axe room being Florence Nightingale. Haven’t seen Hex yet.’
‘He’ll turn up,’ said Li.
‘Where are you?’ called Alex. ‘You sound like you’re somewhere in the sky.’
‘Remember the cafeteria? Up on the gallery?’
Alex consulted the map in his head. The cafeteria overlooked the entrance lobby. ‘Oh, good move.’
‘Yeah, I can’t get down. But I’m working on it.’
When the quake hit Li decided to aim high. She was up the rough stone wall and over the parapet in a flash. She was aiming to get out of the skylight at the top but the walls started to crumble. All she could do was dive under a table, protect herself. The table started to inch across the floor, shaken by the vibrations like a pea on a drum. Li gripped the legs and went with it, like a turtle trying to keep an unruly shell on its back. Debris thundered down onto the table, minute after minute. Would she be buried, wake up in a tiny square coffin between toppled blocks of broken masonry?
Finally the shaking stopped. What now? She heard the screams far off. It made her think of going to sleep in the jungle and hearing the animal calls. She had the night vision goggles. She pulled them over her head and switched on.
The floor of the cafeteria was littered with stones and dust. It looked as though someone had tipped a mountain of builder’s rubble over the tables and chairs. Some of the pieces of masonry were more than a metre long. The table had saved her from a nasty injury.

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