The urgent shout stabs into Rudd. He grabs at a metal roof support with one hand and, with the other blocking the rain from his eyes, searches for the cause of the alarm. But all he can see is rain, and the slippery shift of water licking down the stairs above him.

“What?” he shouts.

The reply comes, but it too is ripped to shreds by the wind, and cannot warn Rudd of the bulk he sees suddenly, turning and tipping past Tonderai and Innocence. Horrified he watches the shape seesaw down. Twisting closer. Gathering speed. Becoming a table. Four legs jabbed up into the dark.

Rudd braces for impact, breath thumping. But there is no collision. Instead the table stalls, close enough to touch. He stretches an arm towards it, but as he does it breaks loose again. It swings round, end first, its momentum missing him by a shadow. He watches it surge past, and block to a stop against a bedroom wall below, then he turns and pushes upwards, the pounding rain and adrenaline forcing him on, his legs suddenly strong. He reaches the verandah just behind the others, and follows them back through the broken doors, into the dry of the lodge. He is soaked and desperate for news of Fred and Bernard, but all that meets them are questions.

“Hey Rudd …”

“ … any sign?”

“Where are they?”

“What’s it like out there?”

“What’s the damage?”

The three do not reply. Instead they weave a path back through the impatient crowd to the reception area where Father Norman waits with towels. Rudd passes a few back to Tonderai and Innocence, then burys his face in the rough oblivion of the dry cloth. He stands for a few seconds, letting it soak the damp from him, then he rubs the towel up and over his hair.

“Nothing?” Jen asks.

“Nothing,” he replies.

“You checked their room?”

“The three of us did Jen. We searched all the rooms.”

“But where are they?”

“I don’t know. I promise we’re going to keep looking.”

He passes the towel back to Father Norman, and then sits down on the chair he had stood on earlier and begins to unlace his shoes.

“What’s it like out there?”

Rudd looks up to see Steve looming over him.

“Bad,” he replies, shaking the water out of one shoe, and then the other. “It’s the loose stuff you have to watch. We nearly got wiped out by a table.”

 “That’s cyclones for you.”

 “Hey Steve. How do you even know it’s a cyclone?” someone challenges.

“Yeah Steve … this is Zim we’re talking.”

Rudd jumps to his feet.

 “Steve’s right …” he shouts, voice taut.

“Hey speak up, Rudd. Can’t hear you back here.”

Rudd climbs up on to the chair, blinking as torch beams bear down on him. Slowly the voices fade away, leaving only wind rattle. Rudd clears his throat.

“Guys this is bad, and likely to get worse. This is a cyclone. It’s the edge of the one in Mozambique. The really bad news though – Fred and Bernard are still missing. We’re going to need help.”

“Did you see Aneke out there?” someone calls.

“Aneke?”

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Sheltered by the walkway Rudd switches his torch back on. Tonderai and Innocence do the same, and the three begin to check in and around the guest rooms, beginning with Fred and Bernard’s.

The door to their room, like that to most of the rooms, has been left unlocked for the come and go of families and campers sharing bathrooms, but the windows are shut and it is dry inside. They shout repeatedly, their torches shining into the corners, but nobody is there so they move on to check the other rooms. In one they find the garden doors have burst open, so they squelch across the carpet, and duck under the thumping flail of the wet curtain to check the patio, but there is only an upturned table without its chairs.

The last room they check is Rudd’s, now Simi’s. It is the only one they find locked. Rudd tries to shine his torch through the small window into his old room, but can see nothing.

“No sign!” he shouts, then turns back to Tonderai and Innocence. “Come on. We’d better get back up there.”

He forces his torch beam out into the dark in one last anxious sweep, but it is a hopeless gesture, bounced back at him by the rain which tips, thick as mercury, over the roof and gutters. He swears, and switches the torch off.

“Let’s go. We need to check up there.”

“Use the main stairs. It will be best,” Tonderai shouts, as he and Innocence switch off their torches and lead the way into the dark, their waterproofs slick and shining in front of Rudd.

Rudd is tensed tight with cold and dread. He is now so miserable that he barely feels the rain as it gusts in sideways, slapping his shirt and trousers to his skin like wet paint. Panic starts to throb through him, its beat getting faster and faster. He does not want to lose two indestructible veterans, two legends, on his watch. He dreads finding them dead due to his lack of truth, due to his failure to pass on information that might have saved them. Fraught with hopeless guilt he shouts their names again, but there is no reply, just the soaking roar of the rain.

By the foot of the stairway the water is deeper, seeping over the edge of his veldskoens and slopping around his toes. He looks up through the blur of rain, and sees water torrenting down the stairs towards him. Just visible to either side are the lowest of the old roof supports, standing stiffly to attention, as though guarding the cascade. On its right edge he makes out Tonderai and Innocence climbing slowly, close together, heads low. He follows them, working his way carefully through the debris swirling around his feet.

The higher he climbs the heavier the wind becomes. He anchors himself to the poles one stage at a time, before staggering on to the next. He is halfway up when he hears a shout.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

Rudd climbs on to the chair to get a better view. He swings his torch beam around the room, searching for Jacobus and Hansie, and finds them just off to his left.

“Jacobus, I’m going to take some staff to look for Fred and Bernard. Can you hold the fort here? Keep your guests inside if possible?”

“Sure.” Jacobus nods, his face broad and calm.

“Can’t we help search?” Hansie asks.

“Maybe later. We’ll do a first sweep. Not sure how bad it’s going to be out there. Hopefully the generator will come on soon.”

Rudd moves his torch beam on, glancing it across Simi and Marybelle, whose backs are towards him, their attention returned to the storm. Then he circles the light round to the kitchen where he picks out Tonderai and Innocence shining wet in their waterproofs. He raises an arm in greeting.

“How’s the generator?” he shouts.

They shake their heads. “Too much water. Flooded.”

No. Man! Just what we need.

“Any sign of Fred or Bernard?”

“No.”

“Okay. We need to search the rooms. They may be there. Please come.”

He jumps down from the chair into the swirl of voices, and starts to make his way to the doors, with Tonderai and Innocence behind him, and the wind slapping at their legs. They are at the far end of the room when Jen blocks their path. Her hair is tangled, and her face made ghostly by the torchlight reflecting off the white of her dress.

“What can I do?” she asks, anxiously.

“Please, just keep everyone here. We’ll be as quick as we can.”

“What about the lights?” Katania demands.

“Not working,” replies Tonderai. “Too much rain.”

“At least we’re used to the dark,” someone calls.

“Eggsactly … Harare every night.”  

Rudd tries again to press on, but now a hand on his shoulder holds him back. He swings around.

 “Tim!”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Ah, no. Didn’t see you just now. Probably not. Better if you’re here with this lot. If we need you we’ll come and get you.”

“Okay. Hope you find them.”

Broken glass crunches under Rudd’s veldskoens as he opens the doors, and steps out through their damaged frames into the gale, his torch fluttering feebly. Tonderai and Innocence join him, closing the doors as far as they can behind them. They switch off their torches, and with the rain sweeping over them in blinding gusts, manoeuvre through the chairs and tables to the edge of the verandah. There are no stars, and there is no light, just the dull gleam off the metal walkway poles, stabbing roofless, up into the night. The three splash down on to the drowned terrace. Ahead is the squash court, and beside them the trees, mad in black.

Rudd crooks an arm across his forehead, longing for the raincoat, hat and boots he left in the back of the truck. Tonderai and Innocence, are in front of him now, clambering through the branches of the tree that has fallen across the steps down to the bedrooms. Rudd catches up, and they jump down to the lower walkway. Here the wind is less, but the roof is not so high, and the rain is deafening.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023