Earthquake

Recovery

I spared a few precious seconds to roll my eyes at her before picking my way back down to my mum.  She had managed to sit up and was looking less pale, much to my relief, but I barely had time to tell her Rebecca was safe before I heard a gruesome screech. 

Whipping my head round, I fixed my gaze on the back of the carriage were the door to the next compartment stood semi open. After listening to another terrible cry I sprinted as fast as I could towards the exit, upon reaching the door I silently praised my naturally skinny frame as I managed to squeeze through the gap. However, as soon as I had shoved myself through I let out a shriek of terror and grabbed desperately behind me in order to keep my balance. Luckily, my hand caught the edge of the door and I clung to it with all my might whilst staring at the view before me.

When the shocks had started the train had been travelling on a giant concrete bridge which spanned a deep valley overflowing with trees. The force of, what I then decided could only have been an earthquake, had shattered a small section of the bridge causing blocks of concrete to rain on the landscape below. This had left the carriage behind us leaning precariously over the edge and I shuddered at the thought of the catastrophe so narrowly avoided. A small whimper brought me back to my senses and I looked below me. A little boy was dangling off the end of the train, his black hair tustled by the wind as he tried desperately to grasp the side whilst still screaming at the top of his voice. I assumed he and his parent, though there was no other person in sight, must have been making their way between carriages as the vibrations started. He would have fallen if it weren't for the fact his sleeve had got caught on a sharp point of metal torn apart when the carriages separated and he hung in an extremely awkward position.  Not daring to spare another moment as his thin jacket looked ready to rip, I wedged my leg into the door and crouched down. Placing one hand on the very brink of the carriage floor, I leaned down and grabbed the boy's arm.

Startled, he looked up, the fear in his eyes seemed to fade the slightest bit as he immediately trusted me, as an older person,  to rescue him. Speaking in my limited tourist Japanese, I told him to hold on tight before slowly dragging him up onto the platform. Despite our significant difference in weight I still found it hard to pull him to safety and my jaw popped as I gritted my teeth and strained my arms to lift his torso over the edge. Finally he was perched on the precipice with me and proceeded to grab me like I was the only solid thing in the world and refused to let go for some time. Eventually I motioned that we should go inside and he gave a meek nod. 

As we crawled back into the carriage, I noticed a small town could be seen in the distance, at the end of the valley, but way too far away to bring help anytime soon. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief that somebody was probably on their way.

Once inside, I realised there was a more ordered feel to the mess in front of me. The people still able to move had situated themselves in a group at the end furthest from the drop and were attending to any injuries with the emergency first aid kit that had been strapped to the wall. I noticed with relief that mum was providing professional advice and seemed to be doing fine. As for Rebecca, I almost laughed with surprise that she had kept to my orders and stayed in the same place. She was surrounded by children who seemed to have avoided any injury and had looked to her as the least stressed of all the adults for entertainment. She was reluctantly telling them an impromptu story about purple caterpillars. Honestly, I found the fact she could keep her cool like that amazing, especially as she had never really liked kids, let alone six of them whilst she had a concussion. 

I glanced down at the little boy still clutching my hand and realised he was looking hopefully at the cluster of adults. Before I made my way over I stopped to ask him his name, again in my halting Japanese. 

"You don't need to talk in Japanese," He said, surprising me with his confidence after the ordeal he had just suffered. "I'm bilingual," He said to my shocked expression, "My mum's from London. I'm Andrew." He paused for a second as if assessing me,  "But you can call me Andy if you want?"  

"Erm, I'm Darcey." I stuttered, still totally surprised at his change in attitude, and language for that matter. 

"I hope my mum's over there. Can we go find her?" 

"Sure," I replied before leading the way down the train.