[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.She looked up at the branches which still whirled above her head, saw them glowing as a fresh cascade of embers and burning debris rattled through them, screamed again as she was burned on her cheek and on her shoulder.She rolled on her face, attempting to shield herself, attempting to gain some air to breathe, for now she was entirely surrounded by the swirling smoke.She dug her fingers and her toes into the earth, pressed her body against it, gasped.but she was on her face.She had managed to roll over.She gave a convulsive surge forward and came free, reached her hands and knees, and was forced flat again by the billowing smoke which robbed her lungs of air.Which way to go ? She might well crawl into the fire.But how could she avoid crawling into the fire when it was all around her?Yet she would survive.She was determined about that.Even if she had to crawl through fire.She had survived too much already just to lie down and die now.Besides, not to survive would be to admit that the mamaloi was right; the earth had trembled when she had been born, now it sought to take her back again, for ever.She dug her toes and fingers into the ground, inched her way forward.Branches scraped at her shoulders, completed the destruction of her clothes, caught in her hair and jerked her head backwards so that she had to claw upwards to free herself while all the while the burning embers scattered around her, striking the grass with giant hisses and setting it alight.Air, and light.She discovered herself free of the tree, kneeling, peering at the zinnias which lined the hotel driveway.And peering too at a woman, a maid, she guessed, from the girl's white gown.But the gown ended at the waist, and there were only legs.The trunk lay farther on.She had been cut in two by a gigantic piece of corrugated iron, torn from the roof of the hotel.Meg vomited without warning.Then she rose to her feet, staggered, and actually tripped over the ghastly corpse.Once again she was sick, but even while the bile dripped down her chin she was again on her feet and running down the driveway, leaping over a gigantic rent which had appeared in the tarmacadam, reaching for the safety of the street.There was no safety in the street.The air was still filled with dust and with fumes and with swirling smoke.Bladings' Hotel was not the only building that had caught fire, while in contrast the drains had burst and water ran across her toes as she looked from right to left.People screamed and wailed and howled and begged and shouted and gave orders and asked for orders.Dogs barked and ran to and fro.Horses shrieked their terror.Two black men emerged out of the smoke and attempted to seize her arms.Even as she struck at them she realized they were attempting to take her to safety rather than molest her.But she did not wish to see anyone, speak with anyone.Save Alan.Alan.He had gone to the docks.Oh, my God, she thought, the docks.In the earthquake of 1692 Port Royal had disappeared beneath the waves.She staggered down the street, was suddenly accosted by a white woman, hair wild, clothes torn, face blackened with smoke.'Meg,' she shouted.'Meg Hilton.Oh, my God, Meg Hilton.’Meg attempted to shake herself free, but the woman continued to hold her, and now she looked closer she discovered that she was Anna Phillips.'Anna,' she cried.'Anna? Oh, Anna.Where's John?''I don't know,' Anna Phillips wailed.'I don't know.He had just set off on his rounds when it happened.Oh, my God, Meg.I don't know.''You'll find him,' Meg promised her.'You'll find him.I know you will.Please let me go.I must find Alan.''John,' Anna cried.'I don't know where he is.Oh, my God, Meg, have you ever known anything like it ? Oh, my God.'Meg pulled herself free, ran down the street, rounded the corner and stumbled into an overturned automobile, its doors flung open and a man half in and half out, his face a mass of coagulating blood.This time she was not sick.She did not suppose she had any sickness left.She tumbled down the street, pushed someone away when he would have spoken to her, tripped over the body of a dead dog, and reached the docks.but the docks were no longer there, the timbers dissolved into the still seething waters of the harbour.Meg wiped sweat from her face and peered at the ships.But they at least were still all right, although most had steam up.But the Dreamer still rode to her anchors, and as she watched, a boat pulled for the shore.Had it then been so short a time since the earthquake ? Now for the first time she saw the sun, just beginning its afternoon droop towards the waves, before it was obliterated by the drifting smoke.She found herself on her knees, watching the approaching boats.Most of them were from the American warships, filled with white-jacketed seamen, staring at the stricken town as if they were seeing the end of the world.But one of the boats was from the Dreamer and in the stern was Alan McAvoy.'Alan!' she screamed, nearly hurling herself into the water as the boat came alongside.'Meg.' He scrambled ashore to hold her in his arms.'Oh, my dearest Meg.' He held her away from him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]