CHERUB: Shadow Wave by Robert Muchamore

elevated on wooden poles and their lightweight flexible structures withstood storms and tidal waves better than western influenced designs made from brick and metal. But they’d been less able to cope with debris and construction equipment washed off the building site, including a four-storey scaffold carried across in the rush of water.
    Of the eleven huts in the village, the four closest to the construction site had been seriously damaged. The rest had all suffered some degree of damage from floating boards and sheets of corrugated metal.
    ‘What’s the situation?’ Kyle asked urgently, as he pulled up in front of Aizat’s hut.
    Aizat’s boat lay broken between two distant palm trees, while a cement mixing machine had damaged several of the hut’s main supports and lay wedged deep under the building.
    Aizat’s legs were spattered in mud. He’d dragged two elderly women from a damaged hut and laid them out on a metal sheet from the hotel site. Both were cut and one had an obviously broken arm. The lads who’d been playing football earlier stood about with no sense of direction and stared hopefully at the new arrivals.
    Aizat pointed at the four severely damaged huts. ‘I haven’t even walked over that side yet. Are we expecting more waves?’
    ‘We don’t think so,’ Kyle said. ‘We’re listening to the radio and we’ve got satellite phones working. But nobody warned us about the last wave, so you can’t be sure.’
    A jolt of adrenaline had sobered Speaks up and she quickly checked out the two elderly casualties. Once she saw there was nothing life-threatening about their injuries she turned towards the trainees.
    ‘Use your first-aid training,’ Speaks ordered. ‘Clean the cuts. Seal any that are bleeding badly with compression plasters, splint and wrap the broken arm. Give her pain relief if you think she needs it.’
    As the four trainees grabbed kit from the back of the car and became medics, Kyle and Speaks followed two teenage villagers who were particularly anxious to show them one of the wrecked huts. They barely spoke English and Kyle and Speaks knew no Malay, but it didn’t take much to work out that the girls thought there were people trapped under the collapsed roof.
    The scaffold had hit the hut at speed, ripping off the veranda and knocking the entire structure backwards on its supporting stilts. The wooden frame had caved in, leaving a tangle of planks topped off by the remains of the metal roof. The only reason the structure hadn’t collapsed entirely was that the front of the house now balanced precariously on part of the buckled scaffold tower.
    Kyle pushed against the side of the building to see if it was stable. The entire structure creaked alarmingly, making one of the girls scream in panic.
    ‘Just checking it out,’ Kyle said, backing away and raising his arms to calm the girls down.
    Miss Speaks held up her fingers like she was counting. ‘How many people?’
    The taller of the two girls held up two fingers, but then she linked hands and rocked them from side to side indicating that one or both was a baby.
    Kyle looked at Speaks. ‘It’s too unstable to clamber under that roof. We’ve either got to brace the structure or knock it down.’
    He’d hoped that Speaks had a better plan, but she stayed quiet.
    ‘Knocking it down is easier, but if it shifts it could crush anyone trapped inside,’ Kyle added.
    Speaks leaned under the structure and made a thoughtful inspection of the steeply angled rear posts. ‘The scaffolding at the front is wedged at an angle. If it collapses, it’s going backwards. So, what if we get the Land Cruiser up here and back it up against the building, so that it can’t topple?’
    ‘Will that hold it?’ Kyle asked.
    Speaks nodded. ‘It’s a heavy car. It’ll hold for a while if you’re gentle on the throttle.’
    ‘Me?’ Kyle gulped.
    Speaks inflated her huge chest and bulky arms. ‘Unless you want to get up there and try lifting up