that roof. But I reckon that’s my department, don’t you?’
Speaks wasn’t just muscular, she’d been a champion weight-lifter which made her pretty much the ideal person to have around under the circumstances.
Kyle hurriedly explained the plan to Aizat as he jogged back to the Land Cruiser.
‘They’re twins,’ Aizat explained. ‘Two boys, eleven months old.’
‘It scares me that we can’t hear them yelling inside,’ Kyle said. ‘We’ll try, but I’m not optimistic.’
It was tricky driving the Land Cruiser up the beach and reversing over debris, down a narrow alleyway between the wreckage of the two most seriously damaged huts. Fortunately the families that owned them worked on the mainland and both had been empty when the wave struck.
By the time Kyle parked with the back of the Land Cruiser aligned to the rear of the teetering house a gaggle of villagers was watching, along with two painters from the construction site who’d come by to help.
Kyle leaned out of the car window. ‘Ready?’ he shouted.
Miss Speaks looked around at Dante, who’d donned a yellow safety helmet with a powerful rescue lamp fitted around it.
‘I’m fine,’ Dante said, before smiling nervously.
‘Roll her back,’ Speaks ordered.
Kyle switched on the Land Cruiser’s low-ratio gearbox, giving it the kind of torque required for climbing muddy hills, or hopefully supporting the weight of a teetering pole house. He let out the handbrake and gave the accelerator the lightest of touches.
Kyle looked back over his shoulder as the house’s wooden beams creaked. The Land Cruiser’s back window shattered and the suspension sank into the mud as the rear end braced the weight of the wooden structure. This was the moment of truth. Would the car pushing backwards support the teetering house, or cause it to collapse and possibly crush the babies trapped inside?
‘Enough,’ Speaks shouted.
To Kyle’s relief the big 4x4 seemed to be propping up the house, but sweat was pouring down his brow. The ground beneath the tyres was slippery and he had to strike a difficult balance between skidding forwards in the mud, or pushing the throttle too hard and knocking the house forward on to the scaffolding.
Speaks clambered up the side of the house and wedged her hands under a section of the collapsed roof. The corrugated metal roofing was light, but the wooden frame and joists to which it was attached needed all the strength in her beefy arms and tree trunk thighs.
As soon as there was a decent gap between floor and roof, Dante shot through into the hut’s collapsed interior. The roof and sides seemed to be propped up by pieces of furniture. He found himself with a pair of cheesy thongs in his face, looking under a couch with his lamp illuminating empty cigarette packets and dead cockroaches.
‘What can you see?’ Speaks shouted, straining under the weight of the roof panels.
Dante’s world shuddered as Kyle dabbed the Land Cruiser throttle a little too hard. At the same moment his nose caught an alarming whiff of cooking gas. According to the girls, their baby nephews had been asleep in a cot near the centre of the house.
Dante crawled in deeper. To his relief there was half a metre between his back and the roof over the middle of the house. His helmet-mounted lamp wasn’t needed because sunlight blitzed through small gaps between the collapsed sections.
‘I see them,’ Dante gasped, as he rounded the end of the sofa and spotted a cot.
‘Are they OK?’ Speaks shouted.
Dante had a younger sister, so he knew about babies and was alarmed by what he saw. It was stiflingly hot, and the two tiny boys lay together, covered in a fine layer of dust. He slid his arm between the bars of the cot and touched one boy’s hand. It felt warm and the tiny fingers reacted to his touch by curling into a fist.
‘I think they’re both alive,’ he shouted.
Both boys had red faces, and Dante guessed they’d screamed themselves into a
Speaks wasn’t just muscular, she’d been a champion weight-lifter which made her pretty much the ideal person to have around under the circumstances.
Kyle hurriedly explained the plan to Aizat as he jogged back to the Land Cruiser.
‘They’re twins,’ Aizat explained. ‘Two boys, eleven months old.’
‘It scares me that we can’t hear them yelling inside,’ Kyle said. ‘We’ll try, but I’m not optimistic.’
It was tricky driving the Land Cruiser up the beach and reversing over debris, down a narrow alleyway between the wreckage of the two most seriously damaged huts. Fortunately the families that owned them worked on the mainland and both had been empty when the wave struck.
By the time Kyle parked with the back of the Land Cruiser aligned to the rear of the teetering house a gaggle of villagers was watching, along with two painters from the construction site who’d come by to help.
Kyle leaned out of the car window. ‘Ready?’ he shouted.
Miss Speaks looked around at Dante, who’d donned a yellow safety helmet with a powerful rescue lamp fitted around it.
‘I’m fine,’ Dante said, before smiling nervously.
‘Roll her back,’ Speaks ordered.
Kyle switched on the Land Cruiser’s low-ratio gearbox, giving it the kind of torque required for climbing muddy hills, or hopefully supporting the weight of a teetering pole house. He let out the handbrake and gave the accelerator the lightest of touches.
Kyle looked back over his shoulder as the house’s wooden beams creaked. The Land Cruiser’s back window shattered and the suspension sank into the mud as the rear end braced the weight of the wooden structure. This was the moment of truth. Would the car pushing backwards support the teetering house, or cause it to collapse and possibly crush the babies trapped inside?
‘Enough,’ Speaks shouted.
To Kyle’s relief the big 4x4 seemed to be propping up the house, but sweat was pouring down his brow. The ground beneath the tyres was slippery and he had to strike a difficult balance between skidding forwards in the mud, or pushing the throttle too hard and knocking the house forward on to the scaffolding.
Speaks clambered up the side of the house and wedged her hands under a section of the collapsed roof. The corrugated metal roofing was light, but the wooden frame and joists to which it was attached needed all the strength in her beefy arms and tree trunk thighs.
As soon as there was a decent gap between floor and roof, Dante shot through into the hut’s collapsed interior. The roof and sides seemed to be propped up by pieces of furniture. He found himself with a pair of cheesy thongs in his face, looking under a couch with his lamp illuminating empty cigarette packets and dead cockroaches.
‘What can you see?’ Speaks shouted, straining under the weight of the roof panels.
Dante’s world shuddered as Kyle dabbed the Land Cruiser throttle a little too hard. At the same moment his nose caught an alarming whiff of cooking gas. According to the girls, their baby nephews had been asleep in a cot near the centre of the house.
Dante crawled in deeper. To his relief there was half a metre between his back and the roof over the middle of the house. His helmet-mounted lamp wasn’t needed because sunlight blitzed through small gaps between the collapsed sections.
‘I see them,’ Dante gasped, as he rounded the end of the sofa and spotted a cot.
‘Are they OK?’ Speaks shouted.
Dante had a younger sister, so he knew about babies and was alarmed by what he saw. It was stiflingly hot, and the two tiny boys lay together, covered in a fine layer of dust. He slid his arm between the bars of the cot and touched one boy’s hand. It felt warm and the tiny fingers reacted to his touch by curling into a fist.
‘I think they’re both alive,’ he shouted.
Both boys had red faces, and Dante guessed they’d screamed themselves into a
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