The Worm King Read Online Free PDF Page A

grasped the earth, jerking it first
one way, then another. Lights jumped and spun as torches fell, skidding over
the floor. Winston’s backside bounced on the lino so he stretched his arms out for
stability. He looked up and it seemed much darker than before then something
fluttered past his face. Grit falling from somewhere forced him to shut his
eyes. A larger object whisked past, nicking the side of his cheek and he immediately
pulled his arms back in. An intense rumbling from deep below jumbled with the
sound of steel girders wrenching themselves apart, timber beams cracking and
popping and glass shattering then a dull bang alarmingly like an explosion.
    Someone began screaming. Not a girl’s scream,
Winston knew it was definitely a man. A girl might’ve been easy; you’d almost expect some degree of crying. You’d just give them a big hug and ten minutes of
consoling words which would’ve done . . . well, probably
nothing, but a man only screams like that when something’s been torn off or squashed
real bad. The dreadful sound thankfully stopped as suddenly as it started.
    The building shook again, grinding, as the
pile settled.
    His upper body lay underneath a heavy weight.
He couldn’t tell what it was but it didn’t feel painful, more a squeezing
sensation. His legs tingled.
    Thumpity-thump! Thumpity-thump! Thumpity-thump! It can’t be normal for a heart to pound like that? A cold flush swept
through him and he opened his eyes only to have them refill with dust. The
tingling moved higher. Another shake jostled the pile and the weight on his
chest intensified. Rain pattered against his forehead. Rain? That can’t be
right . . . ? Unless—
    He passed out.
    A light pierced the edge of Winston’s vision
but he was too busy swimming so ignored it. In his mind he was doing a
comfortable, lazy freestyle down the middle of a tepid, blue pool. The black
lines marking the lanes were jumping back and forth, which was odd, because usually
they tracked along with gentle predictability. He rolled onto his back so he couldn’t
see the pesky lines but backstroke always made him take in water and he began
choking. Each time he coughed he took in more water which made him cough more.
    ‘Winston! You all right?’ Astrid’s voice forced
its way in through the fog. His mouth felt full of a gluggy mix of dust and
water. For some odd reason it occurred to him that people who eat a lot of
wallpaper paste must feel like this all the time. ‘You hurt anywhere?’
    ‘I . . . where did that . . . no,
think I’m all here.’
    ‘Grab the end of that board, will you,’ she panted
to the Māori who held the lantern directly above his face. They dragged a
wide, thin plank off his chest, then a couple of bricks and a strip of wall gibb.
Another smaller tremor shook the heap.
    ‘We better get out of here,’ said Dick from
the darkness beyond the lantern.
    One of the twins began crying. Astrid turned
to them. ‘See if you can get outside darling. Take your sister too.’
    Winston was fairly certain they were outside
already so he wondered what she was talking about. He felt slightly unlucky to
have been flattened like this when everyone else appeared to have come through
without a scratch, then he remembered the screaming. Astrid must’ve had the same
thought. ‘Peter, Paul?’ she called. A moan rose from nearby and the Māori lifted
her lantern. Most of the roof on the far side had completely collapsed but a massive
girder remained upright on this side. The light disappeared as the girl
scrambled away.
    ‘They’re over here,’ she called.
    Winston sat up. He felt surprisingly good
and could just make out Astrid’s outline with Dick standing behind. Two smaller
humps that must be the twins were on either side of Dick. ‘They don’t look so
good,’ said the Māori, her voice noticeably more high-pitched. ‘What
should I do?’
    ‘Wait there, we’re coming over,’ called
Astrid. Winston struggled to