Killing Frost (Tomorrow) by John Marsden

Author:John Marsden
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: shipwrecks, War stories, Australia, Survival Stories, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Military & Wars, etc, Australia & Oceania, General, War, Historical, Survival, People & Places, Fiction, Survival after airplane accidents
ISBN: 9780439829120
Publisher: Scholastic Paperbacks
Published: 2006-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

I felt like I'd been beaten with truncheons on every inch of my body. I had so many aches and pains that I didn't know which part of myself to feel sorry for first. When I realised I was alive I hauled myself up onto all fours, then used a small tree trunk to get on my feet. I hung on to the tree, willing myself to find some energy. Behind me, wave after wave was crashing onto the shore. It was a long time before they started to quieten down. By then I was back on all fours, unable to stand without feeling sick and dizzy. I didn't give a moment's thought to what we'd done. It seemed unreal, and irrelevant. All I could do was survive the next moment, the next minute. It was impossible to tell where I was: just somewhere on the shore of Cobbler's Bay, and probably a few k's from Baloney Creek where Homer and I had arranged to meet the others. I didn't think about Homer, though; he could have been alive or he could have been dead, or he could have been somewhere in between, but there was nothing I could do for him.

My mind just wouldn't work: nothing would connect. All I knew was that I had a terrible craving for fresh water and that I was terribly cold and that I couldn't cope with the pain. I heard a gurgle of water near me, striking quite a different note to the roar of the waves behind, so I crawled to that. But when I found the little stream and sank my face into it all I could taste was salt. It had probably been flooded by the tidal wave that Homer and I had created.

I had another go at getting upright and this time was more successful. I started to wonder about the chances of soldiers finding me, but thought they would probably be too busy back at the wharf—if any of the wharf was left, which was unlikely. My thirst forced me forwards. I took a couple of hesitant steps, trying to work out which leg was the better. There wasn't much in it, but the left one seemed to at least have a functioning knee. I put more weight on that and hobbled uphill into the bush.

I don't know where I wandered that night. I found some fresh water eventually and lay with my face soaking in it for ages, cold though it was. I drank like a dog, lapping noisily and greedily, coughing when I swallowed too much, but gulping down more even while I was recovering from the coughing fit. After that I staggered on for a while, holding my head in both hands and wishing it would stop hurting. I had enough sense to know that I shouldn't stop and lie down when I was so wet, so I kept walking till my clothes were just clamp, then lowered myself carefully between two logs and lay there shaking.

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