Sky Jumpers Book 2 (2 page)

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Authors: Peggy Eddleman

BOOK: Sky Jumpers Book 2
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Get out of here!
a voice inside me pleaded, but I couldn’t. Then the
Get out of here!
voice shouted louder than the
Hang on!
voice. I let go and fell.

My body slammed into Aaren and Brock, and we all crashed to the ground. My head was so full of the sounds of the tearing, shaking earth and the need to run that I couldn’t tell which body parts hurt. Aaren, Brock, and I struggled to our feet. The ground jerked violently, and I could barely stay upright. We ran, tripped, fell, picked ourselves up, and ran some more, stumble after stumble. Away from the trees crashing to the ground. Away from the earth tearing into pieces. Away from the shaking. Just away.

The earth lurched and we all fell. I tumble-rolled over Brock and down a steep slope, and Aaren landed on top of me at the bottom. I got to my feet, but my legs wouldn’t hold me for long before the shaking knocked me back to the ground. Aaren and Brock stood up, their arms out and knees bent and wobbling. We grabbed each other’s hands, fearing that one of us would fall away if we let go, and we kept running.

I noticed that two of the six people who were searching for Ameiphus with us were staggering down a hill to the side. I had no idea where the other four were. My lungs burned, but we kept running, trying to escape the crashing trees and splitting earth.

As suddenly as it started, the shaking stopped. Aaren, Brock, and I dropped to the ground, gasping for air. I lay on the forest floor, clutching at weeds, grasses, rocks, and sticks as if they could hold me in place. It felt like the earthquake still shook inside me. I pulled my necklace from under my shirt, held the rough stone pendant from my birth parents, and stroked my thumb and finger down the smooth silver chain from my adoptive parents. Over and over again I rubbed the necklace, as though everything bad would stop if I did.

Before any of us caught our breath enough to speak, I heard shouts in the distance. The other four. Mr. Williams
and Stott hobbled toward us with Ben Davies between them, his shirt torn, his arms over their shoulders. Helen Johnson held her arm, which must have been injured. They limped their way to us and collapsed on the ground.

“What was that?” I choked through the dust that coated my throat.

“Earthquake,” Stott said.

I shook my head. “An earthquake can’t be that bad, can it?”

“They can be that bad.” Mr. Williams looked at the mountain where it curved out of sight, toward home. “We need to get back into White Rock. See the damage.” He turned to the base of the mountain. “The horses are gone. We’ll have to walk.”

All nine of us stumbled our way around the crater with trembling legs and frazzled nerves for two hours and three aftershocks, until we finally reached the tunnel into White Rock. None of us talked. I think we were all afraid of what we might see. I grasped my necklace almost the whole way and told myself I’d find my parents soon.

At the opening to the tunnel that led us and the river into town, we froze. I looked up at the ceiling of the cave, and thought of the miles of rock that lay above it. Miles of rock that could come crashing down on us if another aftershock hit.

We waited there for an eternity, not moving, before
Mr. Williams said, “Well, we can’t stand out here all day.” He adjusted Ben Davies’s arm over his shoulder, and he, Ben, and Stott took a shuffling step into the tunnel.

I clutched Aaren’s hand with my right and Brock’s hand with my left, then followed Mr. Williams. It was a million times worse than being in the tree. The seams of white rock cutting across the mostly black ceiling a dozen feet above me had never looked dangerous before, but now it seemed as if chunks bigger than my house were waiting to fall on us. Dust covered the floor of the tunnel, like it had shaken down from the ceiling above, and the river carried broken tree branches and tumbling rocks.

This main tunnel was wide and tall and the few times I had been through it, I’d always felt safe. It wasn’t at all like the tunnel on the other side of the crater, where White Rock River exited our valley, that we had crawled through months ago when bandits attacked. Yet right now, this tunnel felt even scarier than that one. I made myself look at the sunlight coming from the other end of the tunnel, a half mile ahead of us.

Every few minutes we’d hear a deep groan coming from inside the mountain itself, followed by rock dust raining down on us. For the first two groans, I managed to keep my eyes on the river. For the third groan, though, I looked up. The thought of it all falling on us made me
take off running, Brock and Aaren at my sides, to the end of the tunnel.

“Whoa,” Aaren whispered as we burst out into sunlight again.

We stood on the third ring—at one of the best vantage points into our valley. Each flat ring leading up and out from City Circle was a half mile wide, like a step that went in a complete circle. A packed gravel road ran along the back of each ring right before the hill leading up to the next ring, and every single one was damaged. Sometimes broken in large chunks, sometimes with cracks, and sometimes with uneven rises or drop-offs. White Rock River flowed along the third ring toward the south side of the valley, where it spilled into a small lake before exiting through the mountain. The shaking had made the river overflow, and the water streamed all the way down to the runoff ditches around City Circle.

Houses and farms were broken up all around the first three rings, but the worst ones were straight across the valley from where we stood. A couple looked as though they were cracked in half. The roofs of several buildings had buckled in on themselves, or their walls had fallen to the ground. Many of the poles for the grain trams had fallen, and two steam trains had toppled over on their sides. Quite a few barns and sheds had completely collapsed.

My parents might’ve been home when the first earthquake hit, but I couldn’t see our house from here, so I didn’t know how badly it had been damaged. My dad could’ve been working at his split job in the lumber mill. I squinted at the mill a half mile to my left. It looked okay—from the outside, at least.

“Over there,” I said. Aaren and Brock looked the same direction I did—to the north, where the warning fences had fallen from the earthquake, and two cows that had probably gotten spooked had gone through the broken fence and charged up the hillside right into the air of the Bomb’s Breath. They lay dead at the base of it.

Helen gasped as she stepped out of the tunnel and let out a sobbing hiccup.

“The woods,” Brock whispered.

My eyes had been so focused on where my parents might be, I had missed the most obvious problem. It looked as if a giant monster had left claw marks in the side of the mountain, ripping open massive crevices in the clearing at the edge of the woods.

Mr. Williams, Stott, and Ben Davies came up behind me. Mr. Williams glanced at the mines, where he worked at his split, and I noticed for the first time that the main one was caved in, the entrance completely closed. But I could tell he wasn’t thinking of his split job of running
the mines as much as his job as council member. He’d been voted to take my dad’s spot when my dad became the council head. “Come on,” he said. “They’ll need help.”

The posts for the grain tram closest to us were mostly upright, and the rope that stretched from the top of the posts all the way to City Circle looked tight enough to hold the tram platform that hung from the line. Since it was the quickest way down, the ones most injured in our group situated themselves on the platform first; then gravity carried them along the pathway to the community center for help.

Once they reached the bottom, we pulled the cables to bring the tram back up; then the five of us who remained climbed onto the suspended platform. Mr. Williams sat at the brakes and took us down slowly enough to get a good look at all the damage we passed. Everything was worse the closer we got to City Circle.

When we neared the end of the line, Aaren, Brock, and I hopped off the tram and raced across City Circle Road to the small courtyard by the community center, where we had school. It was our town’s designated report-in area in case of emergency, and the one place I knew my parents would be if they could make it.

Tons of injured people filled the courtyard. My dad leaned up against the building, clipboard in hand. I could
tell that the leg in which he’d been shot months ago was bothering him more than normal by the way he stood.

“Dad!” I yelled, running to him.

Relief washed over his face as he limped toward me and lifted me off the ground in a tight hug. “Are you okay?” He pulled back to make sure nothing was broken and looked at my scraped-up hands and bruised arms.

I brushed the hair out of my face. “I’m fine. What about Mom?”

“She’s fine, too. She went inside to get more bandages.”

I glanced at all the people in the courtyard. “How bad is it?”

“It’s bad. Half the town hasn’t reported in yet, and Dr. Grenwood’s already got more injured than she can help.”

Aaren took off running before my dad finished his sentence. Besides his mom, Aaren knew more about being a doctor than anyone else in White Rock. I hadn’t even turned toward the building when two horses raced into the courtyard, carrying Aaren’s brother Travin, Mr. Williams’s son Pax, and my cousin Carina. My breath left my lungs when I saw her pained face.

“My leg,” Carina whimpered as Pax lowered her to Travin. He rushed her toward the several dozen people in the courtyard, Brock and me following closely behind.

Some of the injured were already in casts, some were
walking around, and some were lying in makeshift beds. Most were still waiting their turn. I sprinted ahead of Travin and Carina as my mom came out of the building with her arms full of new bandages.

“Hope!” She set everything down and wrapped her arms around me. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head. “Why is everyone out here?”

“Too much broken glass inside,” my mom said. She picked up the bandages and we headed over to where Mr. Williams’s wife was wrapping cuts on people not injured as badly as the ones Dr. Grenwood was treating.

“Where should we help?” I asked.

“It looks like Aaren and his mom are setting Carina’s broken leg. She’ll have to move on to the next person as quickly as she can, so help Aaren put a cast on it. I think Carina will be glad you’re there.”

We had only taken three paces toward them when the ground began to shake again. I screamed, adding my voice to the din of all the others as I hit the ground.

“Stay calm!” Dr. Grenwood called over the noise. “It’s only an aftershock! Everything will be fine!”

It felt anything but fine. I closed my eyes for a moment to block everything out, but then I couldn’t tell which direction was up. My eyes flew back open in time to see the outside window of the Fours & Fives classroom, which
the previous quakes had somehow missed, crash to the ground, shattering into pieces, causing a new round of frightened screams.

When the tremors finally stopped, I was crouching on the ground, my shaking arms wrapped around my legs.

“It’s over!” Aaren’s mom yelled. “If you’re not too hurt to help, find something to do. An aftershock that strong is sure to bring more injured.
Move!

I forced myself to get to my feet and scrambled toward Carina.

Four days after the quakes, Brock, Aaren, Jella Johnson, and I took hold of a wall frame on the ground next to the Johnsons’ house and pushed it upright, replacing their missing wall. Jella’s dad, mom, and older brothers nailed it into place. Aaren’s little sister Brenna dug in the dirt not far from where we worked. Cleanup began the day after the quakes, and it had taken us this long to remove all the damaged parts of the Johnsons’ house so we could start rebuilding it today. We were so exhausted from the work, we slumped against one of the house’s good walls while they hammered.

Jella’s dad squinted up at the afternoon sun and then at us. “You’ve all been working hard. Tell you what—we’ll
finish up this wall. You kids take a break for an hour or two.”

Brock pumped his fist. “Yes!”

“What should we do?” Aaren asked.

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