400 Minutes of Danger

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400 Minutes of Danger Page 2

by Jack Heath


  She looked at the steam emerging from the bonnet, wafting against the ice. The glacier made a crackling sound like distant fireworks.

  ‘Adnan,’ she said. ‘The engine is melting the ice.’

  11:45 He looked blankly at her. She switched to Punjabi. ‘Hot!’ she said, pointing at the bonnet. ‘Hot ice!’

  The impact might not have been enough to fracture the glacier, but the heat from the wrecked car would be. They had maybe only seconds before the ice gave way. And they were standing right next to it.

  Adnan gasped and started to back away. ‘Run!’ he yelled, in English.

  Nika’s paralysis broke, and she dashed after him—

  11:10 But it was too late.

  Snap! Nika heard a crack split in the glacier behind her. When she turned to look, she saw a colossal sheet of ice fall to the ground and shatter into thousands of pieces—

  10:50 And then the water was free.

  It poured out of the glacier in a black mass, foaming as it crashed down to the ground. The ute vanished immediately, swallowed up by the flow. Sharp fragments of ice shot outwards, riding the gigantic wave.

  10:30 Nika barely heard herself shrieking. The mighty torrent of water was deafening—roaring and splashing and gurgling, getting louder and louder as it approached. She sprinted across the dry channel towards safety.

  But she wasn’t going to make it. The wave loomed right behind her.

  08:20 Adnan was already climbing frantically up the riverbank, where a row of withered trees grew. Maybe he would survive. Maybe he’d be able to reach the village and tell them what had happened.

  But he didn’t have the medicine. Nika had it in her climbing pouch. If the villagers didn’t get it, the sickness could kill them.

  ‘Adnan!’ Nika screamed.

  He turned and saw her sprinting across the riverbed with the tremendous wall of water gaining on her.

  07:50 She dug the penicillin bottles out of her pouch as she ran, and flung them as hard as she could. They sailed over Adnan’s head and landed somewhere in the desert beyond.

  Adnan shouted something, but Nika couldn’t hear it. The water was too close, too loud. She could feel it sucking all the warmth from the air behind her, like a black hole. Cold spray dotted her back.

  The wave hit her feet first. After millions of years sealed under a shell of ice, it was unbelievably cold. The contact made Nika gasp.

  07:10 But she had almost reached the embankment. If she could just climb out of the way—

  Then the water hit her shoulders.

  06:40 It was like getting hit by a bus. Nika yelped as the weight of the water slammed her down onto the riverbed and crushed her. The water swallowed her up, stinging her skin. The sun went out.

  05:45 Nika tried to get her head above the water, but it was impossible. The current dragged her face-first across the bottom of the new river as more and more water crashed down on top of her. Rocks scraped her cheeks and chin. Her palms and knees stung. The pain was unbearable. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see, and her limbs were already numb from the cold. She was going to drown.

  The terror rising up her throat gave her a surge of energy. She fought the current, limbs flailing desperately as she tried to swim upwards—or the direction she thought was up. The icy water trickled into her ears towards her brain. There was more up her nose, and she struggled not to sneeze.

  She forced her eyes open. It was like pressing ice cubes against her eyeballs. She couldn’t see any light.

  Her lungs burned. She couldn’t feel her outer extremities, and she was dizzy. She had run out of air. She was drowning. Fading.

  05:05 And then someone gripped her hand.

  Nika clung to the outstretched arm as it dragged her up. She sucked in a greedy gasp of air as soon as her head breached the surface. Her lips and tongue were stiff.

  04:40 Adnan was in the water beside her, clinging to the longest branch of a withered tree. Shivering, he hauled her to the edge. Nika tried to help him, but her legs wouldn’t co-operate.

  Adnan dragged her and himself up out of the water before he collapsed, wheezing. Nika tried to thank him, but all that came out was a grinding cough.

  01:50 The water gushed down the channel. The sound which had been a roar became a gurgle. It would have been peaceful if she hadn’t been so cold. Nika couldn’t see how far the river ran for now—she wondered what they would call this new waterway.

  ‘Village,’ Adnan said through chattering teeth.

  Nika sat up, wincing at her sore neck. There it was, on the horizon—the village, intact. The water hadn’t gone anywhere near it.

  Adnan was grinning. He said something in Punjabi.

  Nika didn’t recognise the words, but she knew what he was saying. ‘We saved it,’ she said.

  00:45 Adnan held up his hand for a high-five. Nika slapped it.

  She stood up, pins and needles flooding her limbs as the feeling returned. ‘You got the medicine?’ she asked. ‘Pills? Doctor?’

  Adnan pointed to the pill bottles, which lay nearby.

  00:00 ‘All right,’ Nika said. ‘Village.’ Then she helped him to his feet.

  TERMINAL VELOCITY

  40:00 Charith saw the gun before he saw the man.

  The man was camouflaged in green-and-brown hiking gear that matched the leafy trees around him. A bandanna covered his mouth, and mirrored sunglasses shielded his eyes. But the gun was black and shiny, with a laser pointer fixed under the barrel.

  They noticed each other at the same time. For a moment they were both perfectly still. Charith exhaled. His breath appeared as a cloud of mist in front of his face.

  39:15 The man didn’t point the gun at Charith. Instead he raised a finger to his lips.

  ‘Charith.’

  39:00 Charith jumped at the sound of his name, and whirled around. His teacher was looking down at the notebook clenched in his hand. Charith quickly looked back to the spot where the man had been, but the forest was empty once again. There was no evidence that anyone had ever been there.

  38:35 ‘You’re supposed to be working out how tall this mountain is compared to the others,’ Ms Wagner said, peering over her glasses. ‘I doubt you’ll be able to do that surrounded by trees.’

  Charith had no idea how to calculate that, so he’d been writing random numbers next to mathematical terms like ‘hypotenuse’, ‘elevation’ and ‘sine’. He’d figured that if anyone was watching him, they would assume he knew what he was doing.

  Ms Wagner was a good teacher—she was patient, she made jokes, she didn’t rely too much on textbooks. She would believe him.

  ‘I saw a man in the forest,’ he said. ‘With a gun.’

  Ms Wagner raised her eyebrows. ‘Pardon me?’

  Charith gestured helplessly at the trees. ‘He was dressed in army gear. When I saw him, he went like this.’ Charith held a finger to his lips. ‘Now he’s gone.’

  Ms Wagner looked to where Charith had pointed. There was no sign of the man with the gun.

  38:05 Charith could feel her doubting him. ‘I’m serious,’ he said.

  ‘This is a national park, home to many endangered species,’ Ms Wagner told him. ‘A lot of hikers come looking for—’

  ‘He wasn’t a hiker,’ Charith insisted. ‘He had a gun, and he was sneaking around.’

  Ms Wagner took one last look at the forest. ‘OK,’ she said finally. ‘I’m going to get everyone back on the bus and call the police. Will you be able to tell them what you saw?’

  He knew what she was really asking. Are you making this up?

  37:30 ‘I will,’ he said, zipping up his jacket and pulling his beanie lower over his ears.

  ‘Right. Let’s go then.’

  Charith followed Ms Wagner towards the bus. The other students were huddled in groups on the open part of the mountaintop. He could feel them staring at him, wondering if he was in trouble.

  The bus driver was seated on a park bench next to an information sign, mu
nching on a sandwich. Charith envied him. He didn’t have to know trigonometry. He only needed to know how a steering wheel, a brake pedal and an accelerator worked.

  36:55 ‘Wrap it up, people,’ Ms Wagner called. ‘Time to get back on the bus.’

  The students looked over in surprise. ‘I’m not finished,’ someone complained.

  ‘You have your measurements. You can do the calculations on the way back.’

  The bus driver glanced at his watch and frowned.

  ‘Potential emergency,’ Ms Wagner murmured to him. ‘We have to go, right away.’

  36:20 The bus driver glared suspiciously at Charith. Then he threw his sandwich in the bin and got on the bus.

  ‘Come on, everybody,’ Ms Wagner said. ‘Move it.’

  Charith joined the queue forming beside the bus. Some kids were still writing frantically in their notebooks. He looked back at the forest, but couldn’t see any sign of the man with the gun.

  The engine started rumbling. Ms Wagner was patting shoulders and counting heads as the students got on the bus. Charith was last. He took one more breath of the fresh mountain air and climbed onboard.

  33:10 ‘Twenty-eight,’ Ms Wagner said. ‘OK, that’s everyone.’

  The bus driver nodded, his face inscrutable under his sun visor.

  32:00 Charith flopped into an empty seat right up the front. Ms Wagner sat on the other side of the aisle, rummaging through her bag. The bus driver pressed a button and the door whooshed closed. The brakes squeaked, and the bus grumbled out of the car park and onto the road that led to the bottom.

  Charith stared out the window as the side of the mountain rolled by—rocks worn smooth by rain and strangled by creeping vines. Some parts of the road had chicken-wire fences and warning signs that said CAUTION: ROCKFALL.

  The other students were laughing about something and snapping pictures of one another.

  31:15 ‘You OK, Charith?’ Ms Wagner asked. She had her phone in her hand.

  Charith turned to look at her and forced a smile. ‘I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.’

  ‘OK. I’m calling the police now.’

  Something caught Charith’s eye up ahead. A black object about the size of a shoe box, placed in the middle of the winding road. In a couple of seconds the bus would drive right over it.

  The camouflaged man was crouched in the bushes beside the road, with what looked like a TV remote in his hand.

  ‘Watch out!’ Charith yelled, although he wasn’t sure exactly what kind of problem the box might cause.

  30:20 The man pressed a button on the remote, and the black box exploded.

  Charith was looking at the man rather than the box, but the bright flash was still painful. It was like unexpectedly seeing the midday sun reflected in the windscreen of a passing car. There was a loud crack, and flames spilled out over the road. The wheels rolled right over the fire. Screams filled the bus.

  29:50 Charith didn’t remember leaping out of his seat. He just found himself in the aisle, hanging onto a pole and scanning the road ahead for more threats. He was often like that. He would sometimes catch a glass before he even realised it was falling. It wasn’t like thinking quickly—it was like not thinking at all.

  ‘What was that?’ someone shrieked.

  29:20 The bus wasn’t staying within the lines. It was veering into the wrong lane. Perhaps the explosion had damaged the wheels. Or—

  ‘I can’t see!’ the driver screamed, patting his face. ‘Help! I’m blind!’

  Charith lunged towards the driver, leaned over him and grabbed the steering wheel. He pulled, trying to get the bus back on track.

  28:40 It worked. It wasn’t like driving the dodgem cars at the carnival, or the racing car simulator he loved to play—but the bus crept back over to the correct lane.

  They weren’t out of danger. The bus was headed downhill at a dangerous speed. There was the mountain to their left, and a sheer drop to their right. Charith knew from the drive up that there were a series of sharp bends ahead.

  ‘Hit the brake!’ Charith shouted.

  ‘I am!’ the driver cried desperately.

  28:00 The bus wasn’t slowing down. Maybe the blinded driver was pushing the accelerator instead.

  ‘Get out of the seat!’ Charith yelled. ‘Quick!’

  The driver scrambled out of the way. Charith jumped in his place and slammed his foot on the brake.

  There was a weak hissing sound, but the bus didn’t slow down at all. In fact, gravity was still speeding it up. They were hurtling towards the first bend at a deadly speed.

  27:25 Ms Wagner appeared by Charith’s side. ‘Slow down!’ she yelled.

  ‘I can’t!’ Charith said. ‘The brakes aren’t working!’

  ‘Use the gears!’ the driver bellowed. ‘Put it in a low gear!’

  Charith grabbed the gear stick and tried to push it down. The engine made a hacking, grinding noise. ‘It won’t go in!’

  The first corner—a sharp right-hand turn—was coming up fast. If they hit it at this speed, the bus would slam directly into the mountain.

  26:50 Ms Wagner grabbed the gear stick. ‘Stomp the pedal on the far left! The clutch! Hold it down!’

  Charith did as she asked. The engine noise changed, became looser somehow.

  26:30 Ms Wagner shifted the stick into a different slot. ‘Now release the pedal slowly.’

  Charith eased up on the clutch. The motor whined as the gear box fought to keep the speed down. The bus slowed, but only a little. Would it be enough?

  ‘Hang on to something!’ Charith yelled.

  25:55 The bend was almost upon them. Charith spun the wheel clockwise. The bus swerved, throwing everyone sideways. Charith fought to stay in the driver’s chair. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

  One of the wheels crept onto the gravel at the edge of the road. Charith twisted the wheel further. The bus didn’t handle like his beloved simulated racing cars. It was heavy and the downward slope forced Charith to lean forward, which made it harder to steer.

  The tyre drifted onto the gravel even more, scrabbling noisily against the tiny stones. Charith turned the steering wheel as far as it would go. The bus tilted. For a moment Charith thought it was going to overbalance, but no—it lurched back onto the road and rounded the bend without crashing into the mountain or rolling over.

  25:10 ‘Let me drive,’ Ms Wagner said.

  ‘No time,’ Charith said. Switching places would take too long. Another bend was coming up; a left-hand one this time. If the bus turned too quickly, it would roll over. If it turned too slowly, it could smash through the barrier and hurtle off a cliff.

  Charith could feel his terrified classmates behind him. All their lives were in his hands.

  He started to turn the wheel, easing the bus into the bend. He tried to block out the screaming, but it was hard to ignore.

  Ms Wagner and the driver each grabbed the nearest pole with both hands. Everyone else held onto their seats as the bus swept around the corner, terrifyingly fast, motor howling.

  24:00 It didn’t go over the cliff edge. But Charith could already see several more bends coming up. There would be no chance to swap drivers—he was stuck in this seat.

  An uphill ramp zoomed past on the left. Too late, Charith realised that he could have swerved into it, which would have slowed the bus down and maybe even stopped it. If only he’d seen it sooner.

  ‘Is there another way to slow this thing down?’ he asked the driver.

  23:40 The driver was rubbing his eyes furiously. ‘There’s an emergency ramp every five kilometres. You can pull into one of those, and we’ll stop.’

  ‘Yeah, we just passed one. Any other ideas?’

  ‘Whatever we drove over, it must have melted the brake lines or burst the brake fluid tank. Other than using the gears, there’s no way to slow down.’

  ‘Can you see any better?’ Ms Wagner asked.

  ‘Just shadows,’ the driver said. ‘Everything’s blurry.’
/>   22:10 Charith stopped listening. The bus was headed for another right-hand turn—a sharper one this time. The mountain would be close on his left, and the deadly drop on his right.

  He started to direct the steering wheel. The bus drifted over into the wrong lane again. That would make the bend less tight—but if someone came around the corner going the other way, it could be disastrous. He would smash into them head-on, and then everyone would die.

  21:45 No time to second-guess his choice. As the turn rushed up to meet them, he spun the wheel.

  The bus swerved, throwing everyone to the left. Kids screamed as elbows and heads thumped against the laminated-glass windows. Drink bottles hit the ceiling. Bags tumbled out of laps and slid down the aisle. The bus came off the road and rounded the corner so tightly that the mountain scraped off the left wing mirror and most of the paint from that side.

  21:05 But Charith clung to the wheel, and soon they were back on the road. He hadn’t found a way to slow down, but against all odds, he hadn’t yet crashed either.

  He tried to remember how many more turns there would be before the road reached the bottom of the mountain. Three, he thought. Maybe four. Then there was a long, straight bridge over a river. Long enough to slow the bus down until it stopped, hopefully.

  ‘You need to put the headlights on,’ the driver said. ‘And the hazard lights. And hit the horn. If you can’t slow this thing down, you have to warn people that we’re coming.’

  ‘Where are the lights?’ Charith asked.

  ‘On the left.’

  20:10 ‘I see them,’ Ms Wagner said. She twisted a dial and pushed two buttons. The displays in front of Charith went dark, probably because headlights were usually used at night.

  He pressed the centre of the steering wheel. The horn blared, startling everyone, including him.

  Ms Wagner turned to the students. ‘Any of you who can reach your phones without getting up, I need you to call emergency services. We need police, fire and ambulance.’

  She thinks I’m going to crash, Charith realised.

  19:30 ‘There’s a flare launcher above the door,’ the driver said. ‘Someone should fire it through the hatch in the roof. We need to warn people who are too far down the mountain to hear the horn.’

 

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