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Julie ambled in from the back veranda in stocking feet and hair plastered down over her soaked face. "Hell, it's wet out there." She shivered and rushed across to warm her hands in front of the electric wall heater. "Those lambs are real little pains and Toodles is the worst." Toodles was her pet lamb being raised for the school Calf and Lamb Day later in the year. "Aren't you lucky being able to stay home?" She grinned at her stepmother.
"I guess, but come and have breakfast," Kylena replied. "It's waiting for you. Where's Helen?"
"She's coming. Her lamb wouldn't do what she said and she's getting frustrated with it. Dad's has just returned on the farm bike, too." Julie glanced up as Fiona walked in the room. "Will you give us a ride to school in the Land Rover, Grandma? It's too wet to walk."
"I suppose." her grandmother frowned. "I remember when I was your age..."
"I know," Julie retorted. "It was thirty below and you trudged two miles through three feet of snow pulling your little brother on a sled."
"Well, it wasn't quite that bad but the weather at home was far worse than here." Fiona replied. "Okay, I want to drop in to see Harold anyway. Be ready in ten minutes."
"Thanks Grandma," Julie said and leapt up from the breakfast table. "I'll go and find Helen." She ran to the back door, stuck her head out and screamed. "Get in here, Helen or you'll be walking to school!"
Within fifteen minutes the rush was over and Kylena sat down at the kitchen table and smiled across at John. "My back aches, I feel like an elephant, I reckon if we get any more orphaned lambs we'll have to buy another dairy cow to provide milk to feed them, but I feel strangely satisfied."
"And so you should," John answered. He grimaced as the sky outside lit up with forked lightning and, three seconds later, a clap of thunder rumbled through the hills.
"Three kilometres away," Kylena observed. "It's about a kilometre a second."
"Is it?" John laughed. "I'm still getting used to this metric measure." He glanced at the calendar pinned to the wall. " What's today's date circled for?"
"I'm due to visit the doctor in Hunterville. She'll have the results of last week's scan."
"Phone and ask her for the result. It's a terrible day to go out. There could even be slips on the big hill."
"No, I'd better pay her a visit," Kylena replied. "If we leave soon we can be back by one. Fiona will be here if we're held up."
"Okay, but we'll take the Land Rover. It's better if there are any slips."
*
It was a slow journey with the gravel road a sea of mud in several parts but, except for a small wash out and thick fog on the top hill, the pair made it to town in time for Kylena's appointment.
Doctor Simone Downie, a pleasant woman only a little older than Kylena, smiled as her patient walked in.
"I didn't expect you in this terrible weather," she commented. "Let's get you on the table. How has it been?"
"The scan, doctor?" Kylena asked.
"All's well and we have the baby's gender. Do you wish to know or would you rather wait until the birth?"
"Now please. John and I had a bet. He reckons it'll be a girl and I went for a boy because, as you know, he already has two daughters."
"Not a large bet, I hope," Simone smiled as she extracted a negative from a large yellow envelope.
"Twenty dollars."
"So will you give him cash or..."
"It's a girl!" Kylena whispered
"Yes," the doctor laughed. She slipped on rubber gloves and began her examination,
There was silence for a moment as Simone examined her patient. "Everything appears fine, Kylena," she commented a moment later, "I'd say the date of early January is right on target."
Kylena's mind was content she walked into the waiting room and tucked a twenty-dollar bill in John's hand. "The doctor said our daughter is on target," she chuckled and kissed his lips.
John broke into a wide grin. He held her close, returned the kiss and held a monstrous raincoat out for her to slip into. However, he never said a word as held the surgery door open and ushered her across to the Land Rover. He remained grinning and rushed around to the driver's door. With water pouring off his hat, he climbed in and started the engine.
"It's such a miserable day, I hope Harold put off going up to the top plateau to finish the boundary fence. I told him there was no hurry," he finally muttered.
"John," screamed Kylena and hit his arm. "Stop teasing me. Are you disappointed that we are going to have a daughter? What are your thoughts?"
John slowed at the intersection to the main highway, waited for a couple of cars to swish past, headed across and towards home. "No, I'm thrilled," he said, turned his gentle eyes towards her and reached out to squeeze her leg, "And I'm sure the girls will be, too."
*
When Harold reached the plateau, misty fog and rain clouds closed in. He turned off the track and engaged low gear so the jeep crawled across the muddy grass to where the last pile of strainers had been set out in a long line ready for erection.
"Right, girls," Harold grunted at the dogs. “You’re going to get wet today, I'm afraid."
He pulled the cape of his heavy oilskin coat close and plunged out through the mist and gloom to the old tractor. With a post hole digger attached it looked like a mini oilrig driller silhouetted against the swirling rain. But something else caught his attention. He frowned, walked through the gap onto Kelvin's side of the slope, slid down the steep bank and came to a small terrace.
"Bugger!" Harold, not one to usually use profanities, swore.
As far as could see in the mist, a massive crack zigzagged across the hillside. Water was pouring out one front section and, even as he watched, the earth shook and a creaking rumble rose from the bowls of the earth.
But it was more than that!
Harold knew this was a gigantic slip ready to go. Thousands of tons of soil, mud and clay would descend into the valley as fast as an express train. Within minutes in this highly unstable soil, the whole hillside would move and turn into and avalanche of mud every bit as devastating as snow. Gray clouds and horizontal rain bellowing across the land hid the valley but Harold knew the school was in direct line below. It was early afternoon and the building would be filled with the children and their teachers.
"Damn!" Harold cursed again and tore back to the jeep.
"The fool!" he muttered as he whistled in the dogs and accelerated back down the track.
*
When he reached the house, Harold braked by the implement shed, jumped out and, with head down against the driving rain, ran to the Bedford truck sitting in the end bay. It was quarter loaded with hay bales covered in a massive tarpaulin ready for the evening's feed out. This green canvas cover was attached to the cross board behind the cab, stretched up over the bales and back to the rear of the tray. Leather straps held the sides onto steel rings protruding from the side of the wooden decking. Designed to protect the hay, it could bellow up or flap in the wind but would be secure.
Harold leapt in, gave a grunt when he saw that the keys, as expected, had been left in, backed around and headed down the drive. He reached the school within moments, veered around so the Bedford was racing back towards the farm, left the motor running and tore into the senior room.
"Quick!" he cried. “There’s a slip coming. We have to evacuate the school!"
*
The sudden sound of a male voice made Julie glance up to see Harold's agitated face and waving hands. She had never seen him looking so apprehensive with eyes that darted back at forth at Courtney O'Reilly, the children and finally, herself.
"The hill is about to come crashing down. I've got your Dad's truck out there. Get everyone onto it."
"Now, Doctor Bentley..." Courtney overcame the initial shock of the man's sudden appearance and walked up to him. "It's teeming down outside."
"For God sake woman, if that slip hits the school you'll be buried alive. There's no time to argue!" Harold yelled.
Everyone in the room stopped, frightened faces studied the distraught man and a bubble of voices filled the air. A couple of the younger children shrank back at the wild man in his saturated raincoat, pointy beard and agitated mannerism.
Harold turned to Julie. "I'm not lying. If you stay here you will all be killed."
Julie flushed white and turned to her teacher. "I believe him, Mrs. O'Reilly," she said.
Courtney studied the man, her frightened children and the Year 8 pupil. "Okay class," she said in a quiet voice. "Remember the emergency drills we practiced? I want you to place any thing in your hands down and line up at the door. Everyone find their partner." She glanced up at Julie. "Could you tell Miss Taylor to ..."
"Sure!" Julie replied without waiting for her teacher's sentence to finish. She rushed into the adjacent room and up to the acting principal. "We have to evacuate the building, Miss Taylor," she gasped. There's a slip due to come down. Harold's got Dad's truck and..."
"Julie Berg!" snapped Vicky. "Don't you dare burst in the room like that. Will you please leave and knock."
The Year 8 girl stood looking defiant. "It's an emergency, Miss Taylor," she said through clenched teeth. "We have to leave. Look out the window. Mrs. O'Reilly and the seniors are already going."
"Sit in your desks, children, " the teacher ordered. "I shall go and talk to Mrs. O'Reilly."
"There is no time!" screamed Julie. Her face reddened and chin shook with emotion.
But the teacher was not about to be told what to do by a pupil. "Julie," she said in an enforced but angry whisper. "You will leave the room!"
Already two five year olds had burst into tears and Helen stared with a drained face at her sister.
"No! " Julie retorted
"Get out!" the teacher’s voice rose an octave and she forgot to keep the volume down. "Coming in here and terrifying the children. I shall speak to your father about this."
Julie was by now almost in tears of frustration and fear herself. "You bitch!" she muttered under her breath and ran across the room to Helen. "Come on, Helen," she ordered. "We're going out to Daddy's truck."
"You stay here, Helen." The now openly angry teacher called out and reached out to grab Julie's arm.
"Leave me," Julie growled and pulled her arm away. "Come on, Helen!"
Helen's lip quivered and dropped, huge tears appeared in her eyes as she tried to cope with conflicting emotions of obeying her teacher or going with her sister. "I can't!" she howled. "Miss Taylor won't let me."
Julie stared at the steamed up windows, the irate teacher and sobbing children. She gulped and made a decision. In one frantic move, bent down, slung Helen over her shoulders and headed for the outside door. Before she could be intercepted she opened it and headed out into the driving rain.
"Put me down, Julie!" Helen screamed, kicked and punched at her big sister but to no avail.
The teacher stood dumbfounded. "How dare you!" she hissed.
Julie felt a tug on her jeans and stared down to see two wide, tear filled eyes staring up at her. Gillian McLean, who, Julie just realized had been working with Helen, had followed her out. "You can come, too Gillian," Julie soothed. "We'll be fine once we get to Dad's truck."
Without caring about Vicky Taylor, she held the still struggling Helen, grabbed Gillian's hand and headed to the truck a few metres away. On arrival, the tall girl let Gillian's hand go, slung open the front passenger door and almost threw Helen in.
"Stay there!" she snapped and lifted Gillian in as well.
Helen was still sobbing but nodded her head and slipped across the seat in the security of her father's vehicle. Julie slammed the door and ran to the back tray where Harold was lifting Melanie Blackburn on board.
"They won't come, Harold! Miss Taylor refuses to come."
"I'll go and speak to her," Courtney replied but Harold reached out and stopped her.
"No," he said. "I will. Can you drive the truck?"
"Me?" The teacher was doubtful. “I’ve never..."
"I will!" shouted Julie. “I’ve driven it around the hay field."
"No," Courtney ordered but Julie disobeyed her second teacher in almost as many minutes, ducked behind Harold and ran to the driver's seat.
"Get in the back with the children!" Harold told Courtney and continued in a quieter voice. "Which is your car?" He nodded at the two cars parked on the muddy grass.
Courtney stared wide eye at him as if her courage had deserted her.
"Why?" she asked.
"Give me your keys. We can squeeze all the little ones in the cars and follow you."
"Of course, Courtney replied. She handed a key ring to Harold. "The red Escort."
"Right lassie,” Harold replied and lifted the teacher up under the tarpaulin with her shivering but remarkably well behaved children who squatted under the green cover with their backs against the hay bales. Overhead the rain thundered on the canvas but only remote drips leaked inside the tent shaped enclosure.
"Go Julie!" he screamed and banged the driver's door.
*
Hundreds of metres above, the crack widened into a crevice and water poured out the side to further undermine the saturated soil. Thirty metres down another crack appeared and water flowed out.
But it was no trickle! A spout of filthy brown water, forced out by the pressure behind, cascaded into the air. A crack of thunder rolled across the valley but this did not come from the sky. Instead, the noise was from beneath the ground; the hillside shook worse than any earthquake and began to subside, slowly at first until more water poured into the widening gap to join that already there.
The pressure was too great! More water needed to escape and, like all natural things, took the line of least resistance... straight out! The avalanche was on its way and gathering momentum by the second.
*
Julie crunched into low gear, roared the motor and let out the clutch. It worked! The old truck moved forward.
"The windshield wipers!" she screamed. "They aren't going! I can't see." All the time her eyes were riveted onto the rain smudged glass.
"Daddy pulls that black button out." Helen, now over her tantrum, responded.
"Pull it!" Julie gasped.
The smaller Berg girl reached out and pulled the old fashioned knob and the wiper, there was only one, swung down in an arc so Julie could see the road ahead.
"Thanks, Helen," she said, and changed up to second gear. That was it, though. In the hay paddock she had never moved into a higher gear and the thought of doing so now was too scary to contemplate. Sweaty hands gripped the steering wheel and the motor screamed along in second gear.
As it worked out, this was the best gear on the slushy surface. Traction held and the heavy truck floundered forward, blue fumes belched out the side exhaust and, at the back, Courtney held the flapping tarpaulin down.
"What about the little ones, Mrs. O'Reilly?" Melanie gasped. "We shouldn't be leaving them behind!"
"Harold will put them in the cars," the teacher replied. "They'll be fine."
Her face, though was white with worry. What if what Harold said was true and there was no time! She grimaced, brushed wet hair from her forehead and gave an encouraging smile at the dozen children huddled in the semidarkness. The tray stunk of half wet hay and animal dung but was dry and they were moving.
*
Julie approached the ninety-degree turn into Top Oasis with trepidation. She'd never attempted a move like this and was too frightened to attempt to shift back to low gear. Even Daddy crunched it at times. She lifted her foot from the accelerator, shoved the clutch in and steered right to give her room for the left hand turn. The disengaged motor screamed, Julie swore, removed her left foot, swung the steering wheel and pushed the accelerator.
The Bedford lurched, mud squelched from the tires and the cab swayed. But the double rear wheels maintained grip on the soft gravel and the manoeuvre was completed. Ahead was the long drive and, being sheltered by trees from the sweeping rain, the truck just rumbled up. The nervous driver leaned forward, teeth bit a bottom lip in apprehension as white knuckles gripped the steering wheel but she was determined to reach the house.
The top bend was easier and the concrete drive at the top meant the thuds and bangs of stones were replaced by an almost silent hum of the tires. The house was in front! Julie swung in under the carport, braked but forgot to use the clutch. There was a shudder, the Bedford jumped forward and stalled. The horn howled and the glass doors slid back to show Fiona's worried face.
"My God, Julie!" she gasped when she recognized the driver. "What are you doing here?"
"Dad and Kylena, Grandma. Where are they?" Julie replied.
"Gone to town but why are you here driving your father's truck?" Fiona's face creased in worry lines.
Words tumbled out of Julie's mouth to explain everything that had happened.
"I'm here," came Courtney's voice from behind. She reached up and squeezed her eldest pupil's hand. "That was one tremendous effort, Julie. I'm proud of you."
Fiona watched the children climb down off the truck and took charge. "Look, get everyone inside," she said. "You too, Julie and I'll take the truck back to help Harold."
"But Grandma!"
"Do it, Julie."
The girl nodded and leaped from the cab. Helen and Gillian slid across and were lifted out; Fiona climbed in and waited until all the children had dismounted. Courtney gave the all clear and she headed the truck back down the drive.
But it was too late!
Heading down to her right was a mountain of brown, an inverted waterfall of water, mud, slush and debris. The children's screams were struck silent by the booming, scrapping, crunching wall of deluge that thundered by.
Fiona managed to stop by a gap in the trees and had a panoramic view of the avalanche.
Below there was no road, no school or schoolhouse. All she could see was a wall of filthy chocolate brown foam. Water! A raging torrent, worse than any waterfall, swirled and tumbled behind the farm cottage that stood unaffected by the deluge. Immediately behind the tiny building, though, was a mountain of mud mixed with boulders, slush, logs, and trees. A churning twisting wall of terror, nature at its worse, poured by like a flooded river!
Trees on the roadside snapped like matchwood or were plucked away as a side arm of the avalanche twisted up the road towards the Top Oasis gateway. Two minutes earlier and the Bedford with everyone aboard would have been plunged down to a certain dead.
"Harold!" screamed Fiona as she sat alone in the truck's cab and tears flooded her eyes. Her mind endeavoured to comprehend the scene being played out in front of her as the avalanche thundered on by. "Why couldn't you have come back with Julie?"
*
"Children! Everyone in earthquake positions under your desks," Vicky Taylor spoke in a calm voice after she shut the outside door.
Though frightened, the nine children responded to her voice, dived beneath their desks and held onto the steel legs just as they had done in a practice a week before.
"I want Mummy," one little fellow sobbed.
"You are safe here, Chas," the teacher replied. "Now all of you wait while I go out and see Mrs. O'Reilly."
Her anger had subsided a little but she still had not swallowed her pride. The cheek of that girl! Julie was usually so co-operative but just because that recluse roared in ...she had to bring the senior room back and Courtney, too. She should have shown more responsibility. After all, she was the acting principal! Vicky squinted her eyes as the rain hit her face and blundered straight into Harold coming in.
"Look lassie," the man said in a quiet voice. "I know this is all happening but you must listen. This building cannot protect the children. It will be buried. Please listen. I am not just trying to override your authority. Your life, as well as those of the children are too important for that!"
Whether it was his calm voice, pleading look or the earthquake that began to shake the ground, nobody would ever know but Vicky Taylor did take heed of the advice.
"What do we do, Doctor Bentley?" she responded in a strained voice of uncertainty.
"The truck's gone. Get the remaining children in the cars and drive straight out. Don't even turn around. There isn't time. I'll take Mrs. O'Reilly's car."
"Right!" Vicky replied.
Now she had decided evacuation was a sensible alternative she acted with professionalism and turned back into the room. "Children, all stand, take your neighbour's hand and make a crocodile line behind Larry," She nodded at the little boy closest to the door. "Don't run!"
A clap of thunder sounded through the heavens and the earth shook yet again.
Harold gathered Larry and the second child in his arms and ran to Courtney's car while Vicky guided the remaining seven children, all hands joined, out to the vehicles.
"The first three in line go into Mrs. O'Reilly's car, the rest in mine," Vicky roared against the howling competition of the rain.
She counted numbers and stared, pinch lipped at Harold. "They're all here," she whispered.
"Good. Now go!"
At the same time as when Julie turned up the driveway in the Bedford, therefore, the two cars accelerated in the opposite direction. Above, the avalanche began its destructive plunge towards the valley. A door banged in the wind and a child's sweater was swept against an adjacent hedge. In the backfield, school sheep stood huddled under a tree whose life span would now be limited to minutes at the most. They were blissfully ignorant of the impending disaster.
Armageddon had arrived on Long Valley Road.
*