S.O.S. by Allan Cole

Author:Allan Cole
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Florida;world war 2;nazi;submarine;home front
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2018-04-01T15:13:52+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Celestial Queen

It was one of those unseasonable Florida storms that struck without warning. Ryan, Hattie and Alex were exploring the Seminole on their paddle boats when it hit.

The first sign of trouble—although they didn’t recognize it right off—was a sudden silence that descended on the river. A little later, for no apparent reason, turtles basking on a log took sudden panic and plunged off a log into the water.

A small gator that had been following them, hoping for fish scraps, gave a flick of its tail and vanished into the depths. Flocks of birds took to the air, swirling and screeching and complaining about the Lord knows what, then charged off in a long stream and disappeared into the tropical foliage.

Peering into the river’s depths, Ryan spotted an army of crabs marching hurriedly along—frantically waving their claws as if something was chasing them.

Ryan had a bad feeling and wished he had Rex along to sniff out danger. Rex had a badly infected tick bite and had to stay home to be treated by Sammy.

Dark clouds boiled in, obscuring the sun and turning day into a spooky twilight and then a brisk wind picked up, coming at them face first and making progress difficult.

Lightning strikes came next, blistering the surrounding countryside. One bolt hit just ahead of them, striking an immense dying magnolia that looked like it had been struck several times before.

Flames erupted from the tree, only to be extinguished when the skies opened up and rain torrented down. The rain was so heavy it was hard to see. Rolling thunder battered their eardrums and Ryan had the sensation of being completely isolated, all his senses overwhelmed by the storm.

The wind and surging water drove them onward, and it was all they could do to stay on their feet, poling when they could reach bottom, or futilely paddling with the stripped bamboo sticks that were their only means of locomotion.

Alex shouted, “We have to get off the river!”

Ryan peered through the rain and saw him poling frantically toward an opening in the dense foliage. Hattie was only a few feet behind him.

“Hurry!” Alex cried.

And Ryan did his best to hurry. Pushing against the muddy bottom as hard as he could. His pole boat almost swept past the opening, but Hattie grabbed the prow and hung on. Moments later, Alex joined in and they helped Ryan muscle the little boat into the shelter of tall swamp grass.

They huddled together for what seemed like eternity, lying flat on their boards, their poles jammed into the mud so they wouldn’t be driven back into the current by wind and surging water.

And then—as suddenly as it began—the storm passed. The clouds vanished. The sun shone brightly overhead in sparkling blue skies and the wildlife started to appear, beginning with the birds, then the turtles, then the fish. All hungrily chasing the insects and worms that had been churned up by the storm.

Deep in the reeds, Ryan heard critters scurrying about on the hunt.

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