Train Wreck by Kathleen Duey & Karen A. Bale

Author:Kathleen Duey & Karen A. Bale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

Chapter Eight

The first thing Max felt was the black water closing over his head. It was cold, and his whole body ached from the shock. He tried to breathe, even though his mind was screaming that he could not. Gagging, he panicked. He knew he had to get to the surface, and he began to swim desperately.

Seconds dragged past, and Max felt his heart hammering against his ribs. The water was deep. Or was he swimming sideways just beneath the surface? He changed directions, kicking hard. There was no way to tell which direction was up.

Suddenly, something soft brushed against his cheek, and he recoiled. He stopped swimming, his hands raised protectively in front of his face. As soon as he was not paddling, he felt himself rise in the water. Wrenching around to reorient himself, lungs burning, Max began to swim again.

The cold water slid beneath his clothes and billowed his shirt away from his back. It seemed endless. How deep could it possibly be? He had to breathe. He had to.

Seconds later, he broke the surface, coughing violently. He dragged in a desperate breath and then choked again. For a long time, he could do nothing more than breathe. The air felt light and strange as it rushed into his lungs. His coughing slowly subsided.

There were sounds in the darkness, terrible sounds. People were screaming and shouting, and the elephants were trumpeting frantically. Something tickled Max’s wrist, and he jerked his arm upward to protect himself. Long, coarse hair caught on his fingers. Startled, he reached out to touch the body of a dead horse floating in the water.

Max splashed backward, his feet tangling with the horse’s legs. For an instant, he floundered. Using only his arms, he unwillingly towed the horse’s body along with him for another few strokes, then managed to break loose.

Breathing hard, treading water, Max turned in a circle, his teeth chattering from fear and chill. How wide was the water? Maybe it’d be smarter to swim toward shore than try to get back to the trestle. But it was too dark to see the banks.

The trumpeting of the elephants carried in the night air, and Max hoped Old Mom was all right. On the heels of this thought came a few other names: Mr. Cooper, Mr. Grayson, Jodi, and Mr. Smith.

A flicker of lightning along the horizon gave Max a few seconds of murky light. He could see the trestle a hundred yards away, its heavy timbers broken and collapsed, the train angled in the middle like a broken spine. He still could not see the shoreline.

Not knowing what else to do, Max began to swim. The water was dark as night, and the sky overhead was black except for the occasional sparkle of distant lightning. It was so far away that it could dimly silhouette the collapsed trestle for only an instant before darkness closed back in. It was unnerving, swimming in the endless ink-black water. Max tried to stay calm, but the feeling that he was lost and would never reach safety was hard to fight.

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