The Flood Read Online Free PDF Page A

doesn’t burst,” the woman said, in a low voice. “I wonder how long the police will be.”
    “Not long.”
    “And I wonder—” she began, and stopped.
    He was thinking exactly the same thing, was quite sure about it. She was wondering if there was any hope at all for any of the people of the village. He glanced down again. The flood was perhaps a little less violent than it had been, but still wild and turbulent, the whole valley was filled with raging water, and the level of the loch was much higher than usual. It was thrusting its way against the rocky sides.
    The level of the seething water seemed to settle for a few minutes, the turbulence was quietened until it looked no more than a rough sea, smacking like angry waves against the rocks. Here and there they could see the walls of buildings. The church spire was leaning over, at a crazy angle. No single building, no cottage, no house, no shop, no shed or barn, not even the church, the schoolhouse or the village hall, still’ had its roof. Some had part of four walls, still standing; most had only one or two walls, and they were already half-demolished, with water sweeping over them. It was impossible to be sure where the streets and the roads had been. The road to the sea had vanished. The boats were gone. A car lay on its side.
    Woburn was aware of the woman gripping his arm.
    He could understand her horror and despair, and he had a strange wish; that she would cry. She looked as if the sight of disaster had drawn the life out of her, and stared with almost lifeless eyes into the village which had been wiped out.
    A body, of a child, was swept out of the corner of a wall, and carried towards the loch.
    “No,” Eve Davos gasped. “No, no!”
    “I think we ought to get back,” Woburn said. “Nothing we can do if we wait for the police.” There was nothing anyone could do, it had been a sweep into utter destruction; deadly. “Let’s get back. You are from the Castle, aren’t you?”
    “Yes,” she answered. “Yes.”
    “We can go the long way round,” he said, “and probably meet the police. Or we can go the short way, and miss them.”
    “I don’t think I want to see the police now,” Eve Davos said huskily.
    Woburn put the tin gingerly down in the boot, packed it round with rugs, to save it from being jolted, and then closed the door. She’d left the key in it, with the ignition key. He locked it, and said:“Like me to drive?”
    “Perhaps it would be as well.”
    He pressed the self-starter, and as he did so, the car trembled.
    Woburn did not understand that, and put his foot on the accelerator; the engine was all right, he could hear the hum. The car trembled again, more violently. He was looking at the notice board saying: “Red Deer View Point”, and saw that it was swaying up and down; the car was swaying too, because the earth beneath them was shaking. Shaking.
    “Hold tight,” he cried. “Hold tight!”
    He was sweating as he moved off – and stalled the engine. He swore under his breath and started again, getting off to a smooth start. They could feel the earth shaking beneath the wheels. Woburn drove fast along the rim of the loch, where the road ran, and as he did so he saw the towering cliffs on the other side of the loch burst.
    One moment, it was grey and purple, with some firs and, a few stretches of barren rock that was almost white. Then it burst outwards, spewing rocks and earth and trees and water far into the loch; and as it came, it gave a deafening roar.
    Here, the earth quivered. Would this side go, now?
    Woburn lowered his head, and raced the car along the road. Just ahead was a little ascent leading to a sharp, rocky spur, part of which had been flattened to make a car park; this was Red Deer Point. On the other side of the view point was a deep, lovely valley with a burn running through it. Mountains rose all around in spectacular grandeur. The road itself ran on a kind of natural ridge, with the loch on one