Ruth was right. A storm was on its' way and broke on the camp during the night. It was the first time it had rained on the island since they arrived, and when Ruth was woken by the sound of rain thudding into the roof of the shelter the first thing she noticed was that it was suddenly much cooler. She was grateful for that, although in England she would still have thought of it as warm.
The second thing she noticed helped explain why she was cooler. She was sleeping in a puddle. She felt a drip land on her nose, and a second one landed on her arm. The first shelter, the one she herself had helped to build, was leaking, and leaking badly too. She was soaked.
That was bad enough. But she was more worried about the wind. When they had gone to bed a tiny breeze had been blowing. It had picked up considerably during the night and now the shelter itself was wobbling dangerously.
No one else seemed to be awake. Ruth tried to find a drier spot, but it was difficult in the total darkness, and she didn't want to disturb the others. She didn't go back to sleep, but wrapped herself in the drier parts of her cloak and listened to the noises of the storm, shivering a little. She was close to the door and through it she could see the silhouettes of trees, darker against the dark sky, being thrashed too and fro in the wind. She heard the creak of the trees and the crash of the waves. This wind would have whipped up the sea into a frenzy, she thought. It would be dangerous to be out on the beach tonight, but the sight- if there were any light to see by- would be magnificent.
The noise of the storm appeared to be gradually increasing. So did the amount of water dripping through the roof. Ruth could feel the shelter being pulled from side to side by the wind, making the cracks in the roof widen. Other people woke up, wet and miserable, and tried to crowd to the sides of the shelter where it was drier. But even that temporary respite didn't last long.
"It sounds like the whole shelter's beeing torn to pieces," Rachel said. Ruth had to agree. She made sure all her belongings were packed up, and suggested that the others- they were all awake now- do the same.
The storm still grew in intensity. Ruth wondered if the people in the other shelter were ok. The techies had built a much stronger and more stable structure, so probably they were. This shelter had been built in a rush and designed more to keep out the sun than the rain. Just my luck to be in the one which leaks, Ruth thought glumly.
Suddenly a beam fell from the middle of the ceiling. The shelter had pulled about so much by the wind that the lashings holding it together were working loose. The rain came gushing in, and all the water which had collected on the flat roof cascaded down onto the already damp people below.
Ruth stood up, trying to untangle herself from the wood and metal sheeting. "Is everyone all right?" she shouted. She found her torch and flashed it around. "Anyone hurt?" Everyone had been sitting round the edges, so had escaped the worst of the crash. But the shelter was now not even remotely waterproof, and there was every likelihood it would collapse further, and someone might be hurt. They would have to try to get across to the other shelter.
She looked round at the other girls, shadows amid the sopping mess, and bundled her cloak up out of the way of her feet. "Come on, over to the others," she said, and led the way out into the storm.
She was almost blown off her feet as soon as she was through the doorway. She had thought that the forest and the rocks behind them would shelter the campsite, but there was still plenty of wind. She stopped and looked round to see that the others were following, shining her torch so that they could see. Rachel fell over, but the others helped her up and together they struggled across to the more solid shelter built by the techies.
Ruth was the last to enter. By the light of her torch she could see that in here it was much more comfortable. Perhaps it was just in a more sheltered site, but the noise of the wind was much less here, and the walls barely vibrated in the force of the gale. There were one or two drips but it was mostly dry.
The others were already explaining what had happened and there was a bustle of noise. Ruth sat down where she could find a space, feeling rather dejected and shaken up. It was crowded in the hut, and begining to get stuffy. Ruth was glad of the warmth, for she was wet through. She shivererd a little. Patrick, who was sitting nearby, noticed. He reached out to touch her hand.
"You're cold," he said, taking both her hands in his to try to warm them.
"Well, I woke up in a puddle," she said. "And then the roof fell in." She tried to smile but a few tears escaped instead. He put an arm round her as she cried.
It was too crowded to lie down and sleep, so for the rest of the night they all sat, cramped, in the close little hut while the storm raged around them. Although this shelter showed no sign of collapsing around them, as the night went on it began to leak more. People stopped talking. A sense of tired depression seemed to hang over the hut. First they had been marrooned here, and there seemed to be no sign of any rescue; and now the weather had turned against them too. They were helpless, and without much hope of a future.
The story continues...
No comments:
Post a Comment