Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 The pole slammed into their raft, smashing it apart. Charlie tumbled into the water. He went down, down, down—this water had to be twenty feet deep. Finally, Charlie's feet hit the ground, and he pushed off. But he only made it a few feet before something stopped him. And this time it wasn't just a piece of rope. It wasn't a snake, either.

Charlie fumbled with his fingers and felt a tangle of thin wire. He kicked and kicked, but the wire wrapped itself tighter around his calves. No! He reached down and tugged hard, kicking more frantically. But now the wire was digging into his flesh. It was hopeless. This was it. And it was so quiet down here. The wind wasn't shrieking. Those glass shards of rain weren't stabbing his face. No flying bricks or stones or tiles could smack him in the face. Charlie relaxed. Maybe he should just give up. He imagined himself rising up peacefully, like that floating woman… up, up, up out of the water, up, up, up above those thick clouds. He let his body go completely limp. And then he was rising up. Wait! The wires had loosened! He started kicking as hard as he could

again. The wires tightened. His chest was about to explode. A thought whispered from the back of his head—something he'd heard. No, something he'd read. In Meraki's book. That new magician, Houdini. One must not panic or struggle when trying to get free from a rope… Charlie stopped kicking. His lungs felt crushed. His eyeballs felt like they were going to pop from his skull. But he somehow kept very still. He felt the wires loosening. With just the slightest wriggle of his legs, Charlie was free. Like magic. He dropped down deeper so he could push off the bottom. With every ounce of strength he had left, he rocketed himself up, pushing away the wreckage in his path. He broke through the surface, sucking in the air. Wind actually blew into his mouth, filling his lungs. He heard someone shouting his name. "Charlie!"

"Gordon!" Gordon was clinging to a new raft—a chunk of wall. He reached out with both arms and heaved Charlie up. But this new raft was breaking up quickly, too. They had to find something strong, something that could keep them safe until all this stopped. Flash! Charlie saw it—a big tree that was somehow still standing. He heard Mr. Early's voice in his mind. "That tree—that's how I got through… managed to hang on until the sun came up." "Gordon! Kick! To that tree!" They both kicked with all their might. But the water pushed them away from the tree. "Harder!" Charlie cried. They kicked and kicked. Slowly they inched toward the tree.

After what seemed like hours, they were finally only a few feet away. "On three," Charlie shouted. "One, two, three!" They both let go of the raft and threw themselves at the tree. Whoo-eeeeeeeesh! The wind tried to knock them back, but they both managed to take hold of a branch. They climbed higher and nestled themselves between two thick limbs. The wind was hurling its bullets and cannonballs. But the tree seemed to wrap its strong arms around them. The water tried to snatch them back. But it couldn't reach them. He and Gordon leaned heavily against each other. Charlie held on to his branch with all his might. The hours wore on. The wind shrieked. The rain poured down. The lightning flashed. Charlie's arms were so tired. More than once, he just wanted to let go, to slip down like a coin in a French drop, to fall into the quiet deep of the churning sea.

He was so tired and scared. But he thought of Mama and Papa and Lulu. He told himself they were safe. That they were waiting for him, praying for him like he was praying for them. And each time he felt himself slip from that tree, he held on tighter. He heard a voice whispering through his mind. You are strong. It wasn't Meraki's voice or Sarah's. It wasn't Mr. Early's or Grandpa's or even Mama's or Papa's. At first Charlie wasn't sure whose voice it was. And then it came to him: It was his own.