Water Born Read Online Free PDF

leave it like that as I walk away? I can’t. I pull the wet material down and as the elastic edge snaps back into place I hear Harry whistle appreciatively. I bet he thinks I did that deliberately. Well, I suppose it did make him look, didn’t it?

    â€˜So what happened?’
    Dad’s gripping the gear stick so tight his knuckles are white.
    â€˜I dunno. I think I was trying too hard, and then when I started falling behind I just kind of panicked.’
    â€˜You were over one and a half seconds slower than your last practice race.’
    â€˜I know, okay? I know it was bad. It was just one race, okay? One bad race.’
    I’m tired. I’m hungry. I don’t need this right now. Seriously.
    â€˜You shouldn’t have been swimming today. Mum and I were right.’
    â€˜Yeah, look, this isn’t making it any better, you know? I just had a bad day, right? That’s all it was. A bad day.’ I wish I could stop the car right here and get out. I don’t want to be stuck side by side with him, facing the third degree.
    I fold the visor down on my side, but the evening sun is low in the sky now and the glare is still so strong that my eyes feel panicky in their sockets. The air outside doesn’t seem to have cooled down at all yet. We’ve got both front windows down all the way, but the breeze wafting in is as hot as the air inside.
    â€˜I wish the air-con worked,’ I say.
    Dad sighs. ‘We won’t have the car at all soon. I’m putting it in the paper tomorrow.’
    â€˜Tomorrow?’
    â€˜No job, no car. Just can’t afford it.’
    The radio’s on, as usual. Twenty-four-hour news.
    â€˜. . . a post-mortem examination carried out on the body of teenager Sammi Shah has confirmed that she drowned. Police today stated that there were no suspicious circumstances and they are treating the death as atragic accident . . .’
    Dad snorts and shakes his head. We’re nearly home, just a couple of streets away. There are some kids playing on the pavement – not teenagers, maybe ten or twelve years old. As we drive towards them I can see they’re having a water fight with some super-soakers. They’re running in and out of the front gardens, crouching behind walls, bobbing up to blast a stream of water, and ducking down again. We draw level and one of them breaks for cover. He’s smaller than the rest and his T-shirt is already drenched. He darts down the pavement, running alongside the car, screaming his head off. Two assailants appear from adjacent gardens and blast him in a twin-pronged attack. Silver plumes of water arc from the barrels of their blasters towards the kid. Towards us.
    It’s one of those moments when you can see what’s coming, but it’s still a shock. I scream as water hits the side of my face. It’s cold, really cold. It ricochets off my skin, splashing the dashboard, the windscreen, my clothes.
    Dad slams his foot on to the brake as the second blast hits him. It only catches the top of his shoulder, but instinctively he ducks down to see who’s firing, and another volley hits him right next to his left eye.
    Hot rubber squeals on hot tarmac. The front of the car has stopped, but the back’s still moving, and for a moment there’s that feeling that you get on a waltzer at the fairground, that sickening lurch as you’re moving one way and the world’s moving the other.
    I’m holding on to the dashboard, squealing andgasping. Dad’s roaring like a wounded moose or something. The car comes to a standstill at a crazy angle in the road.
    I stop screaming and let go of the dashboard. Dad’s quiet, too, and for a moment I think that this is the end of it. We’ll take a few deep breaths and then go on our way. But this isn’t the end of it at all.
    I look at Dad and there’s a rage in his eyes that scares the hell out of me, a sort of cold fury that