Another Kind of Hurricane Read Free Page A

part of the mountain, all right. His face was going to be part of a large, hard rock. Shoot! His backpack flung up around his neck and he almost fell face-first, but he grabbed the trunk of a thin pine tree, regained his balance, and kept running
.
    Maybe he would win the race after all! He’d love rubbing that in Wayne’s face
.
    Bump—
    Something jammed him from behind, into the crease behind his knees, and he did fall, his palms smacking against the dirt
.
    “What the heck, Brae—” Henry’s head was bent down, and Brae pushed his long nose under his arm. Henry shoved him back with his elbow. His hands stung like crazy. Brae whined a low, throaty sound
.
    “What?” Henry looked up
.
    Brae wiggled out from under Henry’s hands and raced back up the trail a few yards, then bounded back again, whining that same awful sound
.
    Henry’s body began to shake. It was Wayne. All of a sudden, he knew it. Something had happened to Wayne
.
    Again and again, Brae ran up the trail and down again, but Henry was frozen. He was a part of the mountain, like a tree that had grown roots deep into the ground. Henry wasn’t sure how many times Brae called for Henry to follow him before Henry yanked himself from the earth and, trembling, ran to the gap and jumped it again to find Wayne
.
    —
    Henry forced his eyes open. His body was doing it again. His arms and legs and hands and feet were frozen. He couldn’t make them move. His bike clattered to the ground.
    The bike pedal smashed down on his foot.
    “Crap!” he yelled.
    He yanked it out from under the pedal and kicked the bike. “Stupid bike,” he said. “Stupid mountain. Stupid, stupid, stupid marble.”
    He jerked the marble from his pocket, ripping the seam, and threw it. The red and orange specks flashed in the sunlight. Like fire. Like magic. Like luck. Then it hit the ground and the magic was gone. What good was it, anyway? It hadn’t protected Wayne. It hadn’t saved his life.
    And it couldn’t save Henry anymore.
    The marble was crap. It didn’t have one speck of luck in it.
    Not for him.
    Not for Wayne.
    Not anymore.

chapter 5

ZAVION
    Zavion and Papa were joined by three other people. An older woman held hands with the man and woman on either side of her and kept her eyes closed. She hummed. Zavion could only barely hear her above the roar of the rain as she hummed a low, slow song. Zavion remembered Mama’s funeral, and the long walk from the church to the cemetery. There had been a line of people walking then too, and someone had led the group in the same song. “This Little Light of Mine.” It had been Mama’s favorite, but Zavion didn’t sing it that day.
    Up, not forward. Up, not forward. Up, not forward. Up, up, up
. Zavion chanted this in his head to the rhythm of the grandmama’s song.
    Up—Up—Up—
    If only he could get to higher ground. Solid ground.
    For four hours, they slogged through the black water andpelting rain and tearing wind, and then Zavion saw a small boat paddled by a man in a uniform.
    “Looks like a firefighter,” Papa said.
    When the man got closer, Zavion could see a gun in a holster around his waist.
    “Hallelujah,” said the man who was holding hands with the grandmama. “Can you get us out of this swamp?”
    “Sorry,” said the firefighter. “I can’t. I want to check to see who all’s still stranded behind you.”
    “You gotta help us,” said the woman holding the grandmama’s other hand.
    “I’m sorry,” he said again.
    “Take my mama,” said the man. “At least take her.”
    The old woman opened her eyes for the first time then. Zavion saw her look at the firefighter, smile a faint smile, and, humming all the while, close her eyes once again.
    “Get yourselves out of here,” said the firefighter. “Who knows if the sky will open up again.”
    Zavion couldn’t imagine more water. That thick, oily taste stuck in his mouth.
    “Get to the convention center,” said the firefighter.
    “Which