FARHAYVEN: VENGEANCE (91 page)

     After half a day’s travel, they reached the base of the mountain range. As night fell, it became pitch black. The scouts were now using lanterns to signal the column, and each cart had a set of lanterns lit to indicate their position and to illuminate the path for the carts behind them. They were all exhausted, cold and hungry; but Rake would not let them rest. They had to reach some sort of relatively flat plateau so that they could safely park their carts.

     It was close to midnight when the villagers finally found a suitable place to stay. They were then divided into groups. And for each group, the villagers parked their carts in a circular manner to form some sort of boundary or fence. This was done to break the intensity of the blowing winds and for protection against predatory animals. Within these ‘fences’, the villagers set up their tents and shelters. They had also kept their horses within the fence as well, to give them some protection from the elements. Cooking and eating was done fast. The horses were fed quickly. Then everyone got into their shelters and fell asleep. Some of them were so exhausted that they slept through to the next evening. Almost all of them never knew that sometime just before the break of dawn, columns from the villages of Farmhaven and Whiterapids had joined them.

     The rain was relentless. So was the wind. It was midmorning, and the column from Leafdreams Village was travelling in waist deep water. Bud and Root Swerrell pushed their horse-driven cart along. Daisy was driving. Crystal was seated beside her. Bud’s mother was seated on top of some planks at the back. In front of them, a good 30 carts were trudging along towards the mountains. Behind them another 20 struggled to catch up. Also behind them were 30 carts from Greensoil Village and 35 carts from Sunbright Village. The columns from the two other villages had caught up with them at dawn earlier.

     “We should’ve left earlier
!
” regretted Bud.

     “We should’ve, but what’s done is done. No sense in crying over spilt milk
!
” agreed Root.

     “Root, watch out
!
” yelled Bud.

     Silently and without warning, a huge wave of brown, muddy flood water swept into the column’s flank. All they heard was a loud splash before everything sounded muffled. Everything turned dark.

     Bud felt himself being propelled at high speeds. Unidentifiable debris brushed past his hands and body. His lungs felt like exploding. He swung his arms frantically to rise to the surface. There was a moment where some light broke through, but the surface was elusive. The pain in his chest was unbearable. He held out as long as he could. But the pain was unbearable. He gave up. He exhaled, and then
inhaled
. Water rushed into his nose and mouth. He coughed violently while being submerged in the vast body of brown, muddy water.

     With one last, all-out effort, Bud managed to break to the surface. He struggled frantically for air. The burning in his lungs subsided. There was a strong taste of earth in his mouth. But that was nothing compared to the taste of fear and panic in his heart. Where was Root
?
Where was his mother
?
Where were Daisy and Crystal
?
Where was their cart
?
Where were the rest of the village
?
Bud looked around. All he saw was brown
!
Dirty, wavy, brown water
!

     Bud called out his brother’s name. There was no response
!
He called out for his mother. No answer caught his ear
!
He called out his wife’s name. There was only silence
!
He called out his sister-in-law’s name. Only the splashing of water responded
!
His heart sank as he then realised that he was alone, all alone to face the challenges of a cruel world
!

     Bud was not sure how long he had been drifting. The big piece of log that he had managed to cling onto was his only companion these past few hours. The sky was now dark, just like the void in his heart. He was not hungry, although he should be. He was not thirsty, although he truly was. He just felt empty, an emptiness that he just could not get rid off. He closed his eyes and his mind wandered freely in the darkness of the subconscious. And then he let go…

     Venom sat by the edge of the water. He noticed the strength of the current. He reasoned that a large dam must have broken somewhere. At that moment he was glad he had forced Pearl, Hay and the rest of their village to climb up the base of the mountain range. Only essential goods were taken, and these were packed directly onto their horses. The pathways up the mountain range were too steep for the carts.

     Venom stared blankly at the fast flowing current. Then suddenly, something floated by that caught his attention. It was a man, struggling to stay afloat.

     “Help
!
I need strong rope and good swimmers
!
We have survivors being washed away by strong currents
!
” shouted Venom to his fellow villagers.

     A few youths came running towards where Venom was seated. A number of stout men followed.

     “What should we do
?
” asked one of the youths.

     “Get those ropes and tie them separately around our waists
!
The rest of you hold on tightly while we swim out to the survivors. When we call out to you, pull us in. Don’t forget to tie the end of those ropes to an anchor of some sort, maybe the trunk of that tree,” said Venom as he pointed to a large tree.

     More survivors floated by, swept away by the strong current. They wasted no time in following Venom’s instruction. Venom and the youth jumped into the raging floodwaters. It took Venom only a short while to get to the nearest survivor, a barely conscious male. He called out to his fellow villagers and they pulled hard on the rope. He could feel the force of the current being exerted on his body and the counter-force of his fellow villagers pulling at his waist. He looked around to see the youth had caught hold of another survivor. He was being pulled back to the bank as well. A few more splashes ensued and Venom could now see three or four more rescuers in the water, doing the same thing he was doing. Venom had barely reached the bank and had the flood-swept man pulled up before he swam out again for another survivor. There were so many of them, and they floated by so fast that he knew that most of them would not be saved.

     Half an hour later, there were approximately twenty exhausted and traumatised men, women and children sitting and shivering, wrapped in blankets, towels and whatever spare cloth Venom’s fellow villagers had to offer. Venom started to shiver as soon as he had climbed out of the water and Pearl wasted no time in wrapping him up with towels, a blanket and a rain coat. Hay brought his father a cup of hot chocolate, which was covered with a lid since it was still raining. Venom sipped the hot beverage slowly and with every swallow, warmth began to fill him.

     “Let’s get some spare wood and build shelters for these people
!
Hurry
!
They’re shivering and the sooner we get them near a fire the better they’ll be,” instructed the village headman.

     Venom put down his cup and started to take off the blanket when his headman saw him and stopped him.

     “You get into your shelter and rest, Venom. You’ve done a lot for these people already. Let us carry on from here. You go get yourself warmed up,” said the headman.

     “Are you sure, Headman Bolven
?
I’m still fine. I can help some more
!
” offered Venom.

     “Yes, I’m sure. We’ve enough volunteers for this. You get out of the rain and get some rest
!
” insisted Headman Log Bolven.

     An hour later, Root Swerrell sat next to a small campfire inside a makeshift shelter. He was shivering severely. His face was as pale as a ghost. There were cuts and bruises on his arms and legs. But that did not matter to him. Nothing mattered to him anymore. He was not happy to be alive. Someone had swum out in the raging current of the flood to save him, but he was not sure if that person did him a great favour or laid upon him a great curse. Daisy was dead. He saw her body floating and bobbing away from him in the strong currents. Crystal smashed her head against a rock when the current swept her away. Root was witness to that too. His mother was missing, and so was Bud. He reasoned that they were both probably dead as well. And here he sat, sheltered and relatively dry, enjoying the comforts of a small warm fire. His eyes stared blankly into the flickering flames. And a thought came to his mind, ‘I’m still alive, why
!?
’

     The rain continued on for three more days. When the sun finally broke through the clouds, there was a short feeling of relief and gladness amongst the survivors. Then a new reality sank in. Their homes and fields were flooded. Crops, whether harvested or not, were all destroyed. Most of the livestock were either drowned or washed away. How would they even start to rebuild their lives
?
Could their lives even
be
rebuilt
?

     The light hurt his eyes. Something was not right
!
Can a dead person feel pain
?
The light was too bright. He wanted to make it stop. With a tremendous effort, he managed to heave one of his arms over his eyes. The relief was instantaneous. There was no illusion. He was still alive. How
?
He did not know. He did not care. He did not get the relief that he had hoped death would offer him. But does death truly offer relief
?
He had hoped so, but now he would never find out. Bud Swerrell was still alive, and that was that
!

     Bud did not bother to get up for a long time. His body shuddered and shivered. But it was not because he was cold. It was because he was grieving. Finally, he pulled himself up. He wiped away the tears. He toughened up. No amount of tears would bring back the dead, he knew. And dying might not reunite him with them either
!
The only thing left to do was to carry on. Carry on
!

     Bud forced himself to get up. The first thing that greeted him was the sight of soft, white and fine sand. Sand
!?
That meant that he was somehow at the south-eastern shoreline of Southern Falls. That meant that he was at least two days’ ride, or ten days’ travel by foot, from Leafdreams Village. He looked around. There were no signs of settlement or civilisation anywhere. So he chose a random direction and just started walking. He came across a fishing village the next day. With a few kind acts of its inhabitants, Bud was fed, sheltered and given a few silver coins to help him get back home.

     The scene was almost the same every time. The survivors returned to their homes, or what was left of them. There was mud, dirt and debris everywhere. A few lucky ones heard their names being called, turned around and were greeted with the sight of a loved one whom they had thought to be dead. First came the stare, then as the shock and disbelief subsided; they would run and hug each other with teary eyes. And then they would go to the cemetery to visit the graves, filled or empty, of their friends and relatives who did not survive. There they would break down in tears again.

     And it was so when Bud Swerrell returned to his farm and found his elder brother Root clearing debris from what was left of their ruined house. Bud supposed that he should feel grateful. His brother Root was still alive. Crystal, Daisy and their mother’s bodies were recovered and proper burials were given to them, unlike many of the ‘symbolic’ empty graves that were dug around them. But he did not feel grateful. He felt that he was robbed
!
Robbed of a mother who had raised him fine and straight
!
Robbed of a wife and the potential family that they could have had
!
Robbed of a sister-in-law and a nephew or niece who never even had the chance of smelling the fresh air, feeling the warmth of the sun or touching the softness of the earth
!

     One week had passed since the rain stopped. There was a knock on the door. Deputy Governor Greel shouted for the guests to enter. A group of 15 filthy looking men and women entered into the lavish office. Amongst them were Rake Breven, Venom Collart, Oak Nomell, and Root and Bud Swerrell. Since most of the villagers, including the respective headmen from Greensoil and Sunbright, were killed by the same muddy wave that killed the Swerrells’ wives and mother, the survivors from these villages had decided to merge with the survivors of Leafdreams and accepted Headman Kinden as their own headman. But a few days after returning to Leafdreams, Headmen Kinden died of illness and Bud was unanimously elected as their leader.  Venom was elected headman of Hopecreek much the same way when Headman Bolven had died of illness. And it was the same for Oak, who was now the headman of Whiterapids.