Xinder Rises Read online

  The valley lit up, and he saw everything move like a huge grey beast filled with water. ‘Apples-alive,’ he muttered under his breath as his heart raced.

  He was too high above the ledge.

  He felt for a footing, making sure his hold was solid. He tested his grip and bent down, but, in the next moment, a huge thunderbolt smashed out of the sky directly into the cliff face beneath him.

  For a second Sap held on for dear life.

  There they were!

  He could see them all, as clear as day for just one second.

  His heart whooped in his chest. He had to get down there fast.

  Danny

  Danny had no idea where he might end up, but a broken leg was preferable to being flash-fried to death.

  They splashed in a pool and sank down to the bottom, at the exact moment two lightning bolts smashed into their previous position. Their brutal force displaced shards, pebbles, and larger stones. Everything shook. The water around them fizzed, the currents jabbing at every nerve in their bodies.

  Danny stayed down, holding Anika and cradling her head for as long as he dared. Suddenly her eyes opened wide.

  Danny thrashed to the surface and winced as the first stone hit him on his shoulder. Another stone whacked him on the head. He let go of Anika and felt his mind begin to drift away.

  The pool and the torrential rain were blurring together.

  He saw stars spinning.

  Anika was accelerating away from him.

  With one last effort, he pulled himself up.

  His head spun so fast that in no time he felt himself go, his body slipping away to a place of softness and light.

  A feeling of warmth enveloped him, like a comfort blanket brimming with love, holding him tight.

  Wynn-Garry

  Fifty-seven! Wynn-Garry scrolled down the page of names. He rather hoped that perhaps one hundred people had fled by car, and that many had gone when the lightning started.

  Still, that left an awful lot unaccounted for. He hadn’t factored in the opposition players, parents, and supporters.

  Half the football team were missing; no Sas Smith, no Williams, Fitzpatrick or Allen. The list went on… five of his teachers out there, somewhere, too.

  He only had to look at himself to shake with shame.

  He’d found the doorway to the tower as much by luck as by design, and was dragged in by Mrs. Rose who’d reached out into the curtain of water and swept him in. Exhausted, he sat on the step catching his breath and waiting anxiously to see if anyone was close by.

  Only one other person came in after him. It was a small girl who had felt her way around the exterior walls, inch by inch. Wynn-Garry cried as he helped her up the stairs.

  It had made him hope there were more survivors, but no matter how long he stayed, no one else came by. Looking into the sheet of water flashing from the sky, it was no surprise.

  In no time, the water level forced him to move up the stairs, as a pool of water quickly formed beneath the first landing. He insisted the door should be left open, just in case.

  The children spread themselves out over the two floors of the library in the tower, cowering together. As the storm smashed overhead, the children sobbed, despite teachers doing their best to keep spirits up. Even the teachers, Wynn-Garry noticed, had anxious eyes as they flicked nervous glances towards one another.

  The chef, along with his assistant, fed the group bread buns from a huge sack they’d pulled across the yard moments before it all happened.

  Only when the water reached three quarters of the way up the front door did they shut the door. A realisation that the level might get higher and higher dawned on Wynn-Garry and, this time, he was taking no chances.

  Wynn-Garry excused himself and headed up to the old library on the sixth floor. It was at the top of the tower, accessible only by ladder. Up there, he removed his jacket and trousers and sank into an old armchair.

  Placing his hands over his eyes, he sobbed openly.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. When his father died many years ago, he’d shed a small tear, alone.

  Now, tears flowed.

  When his grief had subsided, he tried to reflect. Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, he realised that he had been nothing short of a fool. No more, no less. A stubborn fool at that. He hadn’t listened.

  His brightest pupil had demanded his attention, and he’d refused her.

  Worse still, he’d lied to her!

  Lied! Dammit!

  Wynn-Garry felt his stomach knot. He’d lied to a student who had gone out of her way to prove that something major and remarkable was about to happen.

  And he’d shoved her efforts straight back in her face.

  He banged his fist down on a dusty table. Wasn’t that what headmasters were supposed to be good at, listening? Giving people the benefit of the doubt. Encouraging students in their academic and recreational activities?

  All he’d been interested in, he realised now, was his banquet, the glory of his school and his moment in the limelight. And now…

  Three times Olivia had tried to tell him. Three times he’d denied her.

  All along, it was as if she knew, and Sas knew. He recalled her crazy screaming. Was that part of these strange happenings? Perhaps even Danny knew, the way he let the penalty slide past his foot into the goal.

  Wynn-Garry stood up and moved over to the window. On a good day, the view expanded way across the Vale of York in one direction, marked by a green patchwork quilt of fields and woods. In the other direction, the tree line of the Hambleton Hills wiggled around the North York Moors, intersected by cliff faces and shadows.

  This was the exact spot, twenty-five years ago - almost to the day - where he’d fallen in love with the glorious scenery, the light, and the big skies, and decided to accept the job at Sutton school.

  Now, he stared at death, destruction, and chaos.

  He knew that, if and when this rain ceased, the scenery would be a different hue. A new orientation. A landscape made up entirely of water.

  ‘Olivia,’ he said. ‘Will you ever forgive me for ignoring you? For being such a toady old idiot.’

  He sighed and brushed another tear from his eye, knowing that it would be a miracle if the Delaux trio ever made it home.

  All that talent, he thought, gone to waste. And he could have prevented it.

  ‘I am so terribly sorry.’

  Olivia

  Olivia crawled along the ledge as far as she dared, all the while making sure she kept a firm grip of the surface, calling out for them in turn ‘Anika! Danny!’.

  She shivered, her lips quivering involuntarily as she stared out into the darkness. Occasionally she heard a groan, but it was hard to tell if it was the crunching of metal on metal, like cars or sheds being swept down the river and colliding with each other, or whether it was the desperate cry of people or animals.

  Tears built as an overwhelming sense of sadness flowed over her. Her feeling of helplessness was almost complete.

  As if in response to her cries, a tiny sliver of light appeared on the lip of the horizon and threw a grey light over the water. Olivia peered at it and, for a short while, thought that she must be dreaming. It looked so beautiful, a gentle sparkle of light catching the rim of a silver bracelet. She blinked and shook her head.

  The moon? Moonlight.

  Now, she could distinguish the outlines of boulders and a flat ledge. Looking up, the sheer face of the cliff curved above her like a prison wall. She scoured the valley, observing a dull, ever-changing watery mirror that gently lapped in front of her.

  As the moon rose, its brightness lifted her spirits further.

  She noticed how the round boulder she had hidden underneath before the lightning struck had been reduced to rubble. Where it once stood, an unnaturally dark hole beckoned her in.

  Olivia approached. With every footstep, she grew more curious.

  She edged closer, testing the cracked
sections that might be unstable, until she found herself peering up at a perfectly symmetrical entrance of a cave.

  Without hesitating, she placed one foot ahead of the other and, leaning against the side, she made her way in.

  She caught warmth on her face.

  Hot air, here?

  She took another step, hoping that her eyes would adjust.

  It’s like a warm hairdryer.

  Thermal rocks, here, in Yorkshire? Never!

  Olivia was about to take a further step in when she heard a strange cry coming from behind her. Her heart skipped a beat.

  Anika? Danny?

  She scanned the area but found that the ledge was now only fractionally higher than the river, and it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other started. She heard it again, a groan followed by a cry and a tiny cough.

  Her heart raced as she studied the ledge again. She concentrated and pushed her hands out, trusting them.

  She ran to the right, urging her eyes to peer deeper into the night.

  Nothing.

  She walked cautiously to the left.

  Nothing.

  She repeated her movements.

  To her right, all she could discern was a long shape, like a fat, black branch typical of the debris. She walked straight past it but turned when there was a tiny noise.

  Olivia was there in a flash.

  A body! Face down. Bending down she noticed dirt intermingled with bloody cuts, angry bruises, and ripped clothing.

  Someone who never made it, she thought.

  Olivia’s hopes sank.

  As she turned the frame over, the white arms folded limply and splashed helplessly in a puddle.

  The eyes were closed.

  Olivia screamed as though someone had ripped her heart out.

  In front of her lay Anika.

  Fitzpatrick

  Fitzpatrick felt another long burst of heat on his leg. He grimaced. Reluctantly, he moved his limb and the pain faded.

  The Delauxs had to save the world? But they were crazy, nutty kids. Never super-heroes.

  Even now, the thought would have made him chuckle, if only he wasn’t so filled with pain.

  Why wouldn’t the ghost leave him alone for just one minute?

  When he yelled, Xinder didn’t hear him and didn’t react. He needed food, water, and rest. How long had it been? Five or six hours constantly moving, constantly burned in little patches from head to toe.

  It felt like a week, or a month even. He yawned, and felt his body moving off, his legs clumpy as if made with wet sand. Every time he stopped a surge of intense heat smashed into him and he had no choice but to keep going.

  He could see, although not well. The sickly vapours of singed hair and fried flesh caught at the back of his throat.

  Every sound was muted, like being underwater. Soon, his thoughts turned to death. If he refused to go on, would he burn to death within Xinder?

  Sap

  Sap picked his way along as fast as he could, letting the rope out behind him. After several metres, he tightened the rope and started to descend.

  The old man sucked in his cheeks and braced himself. Pushing out with his feet, he flew through the air, the rain smashing into his face as he readied himself for the landing.

  It was going to hurt, he thought. Rather a lot.

  The rope swung out again, this time gaining speed, and all too soon he was back to his starting position like a pendulum. He kicked out, and, as he reached the limit of his arc, he noted that the rain had suddenly stopped.

  The shock forced him to hold on, and the moon offered a shadow of light onto the ledge below to help him further.

  He swung out one more time.

  As he looked down, he saw Olivia directly below him, walking towards a broken rock.

  He swung back, grasping onto the rope for dear life. He was wondering how much lower he really ought to be when the bolt disengaged from the rock, and Sap and the rope plummeted down.

  Sap lay in a heap, his breath knocked clean out of him, pain searing into his ankle and back.

  He watched Olivia walking out and then he heard her scream. Now, muffled cries.

  Had she found one of the other children? Anika?

  Oh! apples alive, he cursed, how could he be so hopeless? He summoned his strength, trying to ignore the pain screaming through his legs.

  He urged himself on, but each time he slumped back down.

  His eyes watered. He probed the swollen flesh, now like a juicy, purple summer pudding. Was it a tear or a break? He turned his head and his back screamed out as if a knife was stabbing at his vertebrae. Even his hands were hurting, blood pouring from a cut in the middle of his left palm.

  What had he been thinking, swinging on ropes at his age? He wasn’t a child.

  His body was beginning to shut down. It was shock; Sap knew it well. Then it struck him. The Resplendix Mix he’d found in the cellar! Of course, he’d self-medicate!

  With his swollen hand, he reached into his pocket. He transferred the bottle to his bleeding left hand and attempted to remove the lid.

  Did it twist off, did he have to pull out a cork, or was there some kind of stopper?

  Nothing happened, apart from his hand slipping around the rim.

  He inspected the bottle.

  No lid.

  Maybe it needed a sharp pull. He tried, but there was nothing to pull on.

  Sap shook his head in frustration. No shaking, twisting, pulling, or yelling would make it open.

  He felt his eyelids grow heavy. He thought of smashing the top on a rock, but even this idea slipped away as he fell into unconsciousness.

  Sola

  Guda had betrayed them! It was common knowledge now. Sola poked a finger in her infiniti. In which case, she thought, now was the time to add balance to the drama.

  Instantly, Sola was spinning a dream into Sap’s mouth.

  Good, she thought, the powders are working fast on the old man. It must be sharp and quick.

  The Animais hovered, waiting.

  Sola needed Sap to wake up.

  Shortly, the old man yawned and stretched his arms out wide. He howled in pain.

  Sola watched as the old man shuffled, his face contorting in surprise as he found the Resplendix Mix. He studied it as he realised exactly what it was.

  Now let us see how he does it this time, the Animais thought.

  Sola watched as the old man placed the top of the bottle to his lips. He closed his eyes and the seal opened.

  Excellent, Sola thought. It worked.

  Now this will play out to the bitter end.

  Sap

  Sap gritted his teeth as the Resplendix Mix set to work mending damaged parts. The liquid burned like the white heat of a soldering iron welding him back together.

  Shortly, he rolled his head and breathed deeply, the air filling his lungs like bellows. Invigorated, he coiled up the rope and scoured the moonlit ledge.

  Now, where were they?

  He’d seen Olivia below him from the rope, but the other two? Sap headed out onto the ledge. There was Olivia, bent down over something. A body?

  Sap hurried over.

  As he neared, he heard a terrible wailing noise. He prepared himself for the worst and coughed as he approached.

  ‘Looks like you could do with a hand,’ he said, solemnly.

  ‘Sap!’ she said, flinging her arms around him. ‘Look! Anika! I think she’s, she’s...’

  Sap bent down and ran a hand over Anika’s brow. He felt only coldness. He searched for signs of breathing. Nothing.

  ‘My goodness,’ he said examining her, ‘you’ve taken a horrible beating, littlun.’ He pulled the Resplendix Mix from his pocket. He noted how her lips were a pale crimson against her white skin.

  He felt for a pulse and his heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t feel one. If it was there, it had all but gone.

  He could sense Olivia staring at him, searching for answers in his face.

 
‘Now, Olivia, there is only one thing I can do.’ He showed her the bottle. ‘She only needs a couple of drops of this. It’s an old remedy of mine for healing and I’ll tell you about it another time. Thing is,’ he continued, a deep frown filling his forehead, ‘the bottle will only open if the potion within can heal the person whose lips it touches.’

  Olivia frowned. ‘Anything, Sap – hurry!’

  Sap lowered the bottle to Anika’s mouth and pressed the top against her lips.

  ‘Why don’t you just open it?’ Olivia growled, mostly in frustration.

  ‘As I said, I can’t. The bottle will open itself if it can heal, otherwise I am afraid we have lost her.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘What is it?’ Olivia cried.

  Sap’s lips trembled. ‘I’m so sorry.’ A tear rolled out of his eye and landed on Anika’s cheek. He wiped it off, and inspected the top of the bottle, which remained closed. ‘I am too late,’ he said, his eyes glistening. ‘I am so sorry, dear little Anika. So terribly sorry.’

  Sap bent over, shaking, tears falling.

  Olivia stared numbly at her lifeless sister. Anger of an intensity she’d never experienced before rushed into her. She demanded action.

  Directing her hands towards Anika, she closed her eyes and screamed.

  ‘STOP BEING SO STUPID, ANIKA DELAUX. YOU WILL NOT DIE ON ME. IS THAT PERFECTLY CLEAR? I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!’

  A strange, pink glow emanated from her hands, cocooning Anika’s body.

  ‘YOU WILL NOT GIVE IN NOW,’ she roared. ‘YOU WILL SURVIVE.’

  Anika’s eye’s flickered.

  Olivia reeled.

  It worked! What had she done?

  She stumbled and fell, exhausted.

  Sap, reacted fast.

  Placing the bottle to Anika’s lips the spout opened.

  ‘Come on, Ani, one drop is all you need.’

  Moments later, he noticed a dab of pink in Anika’s cheeks and felt the trace of a heartbeat. Euphorically, he scooped her up and carried her into the cave.