Havoc Read Free Page B

jungle: the girl
was dressed in something long and dirty white and she shone faintly in the moonlight.
‘Hey,’ I called. ‘Come out of there. The rest of the bridge is gonna fall.’ She stopped
calling out and looked at me, but she didn’t move. I tried in Anglo as well as Breken,
but no joy. I was going to have to go in and get her.
    I talked as I moved, in both languages, trying to give off this air of nothing-to-worry-about,
but my heart was going for it.
    â€˜Don’t be scared, okay? We’re gonna climb out of here, you and me.’
    Water dripped off the wreckage, freezing cold, on my head and down the back of my
neck, which made me shiver, and I tripped, smashed my shin on a concrete block and
came to halt, gasping. I knelt there for a second, sick and swearing, listening to
the weight of the bridge creak and graunch above us. The girl watched me. I got up
and moved on and when I thought I was near enough I crouched down and held out my
hand to her. She opened her mouth and howled. Scared the life out of me. The sound
of it made the ironwork ring and I thought she was going to bring the whole lot down
on top of us.
    Someone on the bank yelled, ‘Get out of there!’
    A chunk of iron girder thumped into the ground by the water’s edge. I jumped and
swore, but at least it made the girl stop and look at me. She was older than I’d
thought—about my age. I held out my hand again but she backed away, deeper into the
wreckage. I kept talking, quietly, like we were just having a conversation on the
riverbank on a summer night and weren’t about to be crushed to a painful death any
second now. She gave no sign of understanding any of it, but she stopped moving backwards.
Progress.
    She stood still, gripping the iron and whispering her word, the one she’d been howling.
It sounded like ‘fire’ in Anglo. I kept my hand held out, wanting to tell her that
enough people had died on this bridge, but fear had dried up my throat. I had no
more words.
    We looked at each other for about an hour—it felt like an hour, it was probably about
ten seconds—then she held out her thin, brown hand. I wanted to grab her and run
like mad, but I made myself take it gently. I edged towards her, crouched down and
put her arms round my neck. She climbed on my back and clung there like Sol used
to, no weight at all.
    I said, ‘Hold on, put your head down, close your eyes.’ And we started to crawl out.
Every time I put a hand on a piece of iron I could feel it vibrating like someone
was slamming it with a hammer. The girl started to sing softly in my ear in a language
I’d never heard—a small whispered voice. It was a chant, like a lullaby or a hymn.
I tried to listen to that and not to the creaking of the Mol a few handspans above
our heads.
    She was still singing as we came out under the sky. We breathed air that was alive
with sirens and shouting and smelled of smoke and ash and river sludge. I lifted
her off my back, and she gripped my arms, eyes wide in her thin face, and rattled
off something incomprehensible. It might have been her version of ‘thank you’ but
it sounded too urgent for that.
    Lanya clambered down the bank. ‘Hey!’ she said breathlessly. ‘That was crazy-brave.’
    The medics took the girl and behind us the bridge groaned mightily. Lanya grabbed
my arm and pulled me back from it. We watched the last of the Mol smash down onto
the bank, jolting the earth all the way out to Port and beyond.
    Lanya shuddered. ‘You could have been under that.’
    I managed to say, ‘You would have done the same thing.’
    She looked at me and put a hand on my cheek. I held it there and kissed her palm.
I knew she could feel the tremor in me.
    â€˜Cold,’ I said.
    â€˜You’re soaking wet.’
    â€˜Where’s the girl? Is she all right?’
    â€˜She’s up with the medics. What about you? They should