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