now â
and still he wasnât doing anything!
The girl cried again. Phaze II didnât know what to do. A bottle smashed beneath him. And then the girl screamed.
For a moment silence fell.
Then,
âBloody hell!â
Suddenly, boys were disappearing in all directions â Border Commandos taking to the shadows, crying out in a panic as they melted into the night. No longer were they drunk, but stone-cold sober. Phaze II watched them running off as if theyâd never stop. Try as he might, he couldnât see what had happened to the girl. She wasnât on the path any more. They hadnât taken her with them, and she hadnât run off down the tunnel.
The only place left was the river! Phaze II forced himself to look down, to where it swirled and crashed between the bridgeâs rows of iron legs. Perhaps the girl had fallen in by accident. Perhaps the BC boys hadnât meant to push her in. Perhaps sheâd simply lost her footing and failed to see the edge. But she was down there, wasnât she? Phaze II couldnât see her, but he knew it in his bones.
And so did the boys.
âWeâre not to blame!â they shouted as they ran.
âWe didnât do nothing!â
âIt was all her own stupid fault!â
â
Letâs get out of here!â
Finally they were gone, and silence returned. Phaze II knew that tomorrow they would tell themselves that it hadnât even happened â that in some drunken stupor theyâd imagined the whole thing. The fact that a body was found downriver would be just a coincidence. Nothing to do with them.
He stood upon the girders, red with anger as well as shame. Anger at the boys, and anger at himself. He should be jumping in the river and rescuing the girl. Even now every precious second could count. But heknew he wouldnât do it. He wasnât that sort of boy. Wasnât a hero or the sort to draw attention to himself. And he didnât trust the water, anyway. Never had done, for all that he lived on a bridge over a river.
Even when he saw the body, Phaze II knew he wouldnât do a thing. There it was right under him, waves breaking over it. And he knew he couldnât help. Not with the river in full flood. Not in the dark, with the water as cold as ice, and waves with jagged edges like hungry white teeth.
âI canât!â he shouted, peeling out of his coat.
âI wonât!â he shouted, pulling off his boots.
âNEVER IN A MILLION YEARS!â he shouted â and he jumped.
Old Sabrina
Abren lay upon a concrete island. Something had got hold of her legs and something else was tugging in the opposite direction, with a grip under her shoulders. She didnât know where she was or how she had got there. She stared around her, trying to work it out. All around her were other islands in rows, massive iron pillars rising from them into a darkness which smelt cold and bitter. Waves crashed over them, swirling into whirlpools, then chasing each other off down-river.
âWhere â¦? What â¦?
I donât understand!
â
Abren brushed a hand against her face, and found a swelling over one eye. She must have hit something, but couldnât remember what. Her hair was wet and stuck flat to her head. Her clothes were sodden and her blanket clung like wet ice to her shoulders. Suddenly a wave broke over her too, running down her and tugging at her legs.
Immediately the tugging under her shoulders doubled its efforts.
âYouâve got to move!
â a voice cried. âYou canât just lie there! Youâve got to help yourself!
I canât do this on my own!
â
Abren turned her head, feeling sick and giddy, and a boy came bobbing into her vision. He was as soaked as her, and shivering with the cold, holding on to her and trying to keep them both out of the water.
It was an impossible task. Abren felt his handsunder her shoulders again â and understood at last.
and still he wasnât doing anything!
The girl cried again. Phaze II didnât know what to do. A bottle smashed beneath him. And then the girl screamed.
For a moment silence fell.
Then,
âBloody hell!â
Suddenly, boys were disappearing in all directions â Border Commandos taking to the shadows, crying out in a panic as they melted into the night. No longer were they drunk, but stone-cold sober. Phaze II watched them running off as if theyâd never stop. Try as he might, he couldnât see what had happened to the girl. She wasnât on the path any more. They hadnât taken her with them, and she hadnât run off down the tunnel.
The only place left was the river! Phaze II forced himself to look down, to where it swirled and crashed between the bridgeâs rows of iron legs. Perhaps the girl had fallen in by accident. Perhaps the BC boys hadnât meant to push her in. Perhaps sheâd simply lost her footing and failed to see the edge. But she was down there, wasnât she? Phaze II couldnât see her, but he knew it in his bones.
And so did the boys.
âWeâre not to blame!â they shouted as they ran.
âWe didnât do nothing!â
âIt was all her own stupid fault!â
â
Letâs get out of here!â
Finally they were gone, and silence returned. Phaze II knew that tomorrow they would tell themselves that it hadnât even happened â that in some drunken stupor theyâd imagined the whole thing. The fact that a body was found downriver would be just a coincidence. Nothing to do with them.
He stood upon the girders, red with anger as well as shame. Anger at the boys, and anger at himself. He should be jumping in the river and rescuing the girl. Even now every precious second could count. But heknew he wouldnât do it. He wasnât that sort of boy. Wasnât a hero or the sort to draw attention to himself. And he didnât trust the water, anyway. Never had done, for all that he lived on a bridge over a river.
Even when he saw the body, Phaze II knew he wouldnât do a thing. There it was right under him, waves breaking over it. And he knew he couldnât help. Not with the river in full flood. Not in the dark, with the water as cold as ice, and waves with jagged edges like hungry white teeth.
âI canât!â he shouted, peeling out of his coat.
âI wonât!â he shouted, pulling off his boots.
âNEVER IN A MILLION YEARS!â he shouted â and he jumped.
Old Sabrina
Abren lay upon a concrete island. Something had got hold of her legs and something else was tugging in the opposite direction, with a grip under her shoulders. She didnât know where she was or how she had got there. She stared around her, trying to work it out. All around her were other islands in rows, massive iron pillars rising from them into a darkness which smelt cold and bitter. Waves crashed over them, swirling into whirlpools, then chasing each other off down-river.
âWhere â¦? What â¦?
I donât understand!
â
Abren brushed a hand against her face, and found a swelling over one eye. She must have hit something, but couldnât remember what. Her hair was wet and stuck flat to her head. Her clothes were sodden and her blanket clung like wet ice to her shoulders. Suddenly a wave broke over her too, running down her and tugging at her legs.
Immediately the tugging under her shoulders doubled its efforts.
âYouâve got to move!
â a voice cried. âYou canât just lie there! Youâve got to help yourself!
I canât do this on my own!
â
Abren turned her head, feeling sick and giddy, and a boy came bobbing into her vision. He was as soaked as her, and shivering with the cold, holding on to her and trying to keep them both out of the water.
It was an impossible task. Abren felt his handsunder her shoulders again â and understood at last.
Similar Books
