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				HOLIDAY by Katie Oliver Chapter Four: A Long Night       Deep beneath the rubble of the old Tourist Information building, two children huddled together in a space created by a beam falling across an old Rimu table. They had been about to follow their mother out of the building when they had stopped to look at a display on the table. The earthquake had thrown then to the floor, and they had instinctively rolled under the table. When the shaking had stopped they found themselves alone, buried deep within the old building. Their mother who, moments before had been in front of them was gone. Sam, only five years old began to cry. His sister, two years older tried to comfort him. "It was just an earthquake, Sammy. They'll come with diggers and get us out soon." Sam wasn't comforted and cried on.This was the noise Alan heard, that made him turn and go back into the ruined building. He dropped down through the hole in the roof and found himself inside a large hall. This had obviously been the main room of the tourist office. In the random manner of earthquakes it had survived fairly intact. The sound of crying was coming from behind a heap of rubble in the corner. Dropping to his knees Alan crawled under a fallen beam, he found himself in a miniature corridor formed by a huge slab having fallen against a wall. There was just room for him to squeeze between the wall and the slab. "Don't worry, kids. I'm coming," he called out. The children heard him and Sam stopped crying. Alan inched his way closer. Just then his watch cracked into life. He heard his brother and father order him out, but there was no way he was going to abandon these kids. He could see them ahead now, huddled under a solid old table that had obviously saved their lives. He began to creep out from under the slab when the after shock came. He tried to hurry forward to the safety of the table, but he was too late. The rubble shifted and the slab fell. International Rescue worked on through the night with their usual efficiency. Fortunatly the apartment buildings had been almost empty, their owners mostly out at work. They rescued ten people and two bodies from the building, and then turned their attention to the cathredral. Before they started work there, Scott called a halt. "Everyone is to take ten minutes rest, and have something to eat and drink. We're no use to these people if we start making mistakes." John and Brains climbed out of their machines, and Scott reported their break to the police officer. Then the four tired men made their way to Thunderbird two. John put the kettle on and brewed coffee all round. Brains rummedged in a cupboard. "T..try these. They are a new kind of energy bar. They should help." Virgil sat in silence, his head in his hands, John lay on the top bunk gazing without seeing at the ceiling. Scott wanted to rush out and tear at the pile of rubble, beneath which his youngest brother lay. Perhaps injured, possibly dying for want of medical treatment. He pulled himself up sharply. This was no way to carry on. People needed them out there. He looked at his exhausted brothers. Virgil looked on his last legs. He had been digging by hand for several hours before the rest of them had arrived. "I'm just going to call in and then we're off again. The sooner we finish with the cathedral the sooner we can get back to the tourist office." He went into the cockpit of the Thunderbird and called base. "Go ahead Scott,' came the voice of his father and his image flashed onto the video screen. "We've just had a ten minute break, and then we are going to start on the Cathedral. There's still no news of Alan." Scott sounded tired and depressed, and his father heard it in his voice. "Hang on in there, Scott. Remember the motto. And Scott, tell Virgil he rests for an hour or I pull him out. Then Brains, John, and finally you. That way you get an hour off every four hours. This is an order." "Yes Sir. I'll tell him." Scott returned to the others. Virgil predictably began to argue but Scott overrode the protests. "And anyway," he finished, "its not following orders that got Alan into this mess. Don't make the same mistake." That clinched the argument and Virgil rolled into bed and was asleep before the others had left the craft. As Virgil was dropping off to sleep, Alan began to wake up. He couldn't work out where he was. There was a weight across his left arm and he couldn't move it at all. It was pitch back, and a child was crying quietly nearby. With a jolt he remembered it all. The earthquake, and his crawl to reach the trapped children. He raised his head and a voice nearby by said, "We thought you were dead." "I don't kill that easily," replied Alan. "I can't see you, is it night?" He hoped the answer would be yes. He knew he had had a blow to the head. He was afraid it had affected his vision. "Yes, it went dark ages ago. We fell asleep but when we woke up it was still dark. I'm thirsty." "So am I," came a second voice. "I think we all are, but don't worry, the rescuers will get us out soon." Surely Scott and John would be here now. They wouldn't give up until they found him, he was sure of that. The thought of his brothers reminded him of his watch, and he tried to move his arm. Pain shot through him. He had broken his arm before, when he was at school and recognised it immediately. He swore under his breath and then burst out laughing, despite his pain, as a little voice said, "Mummy says we're not to say that word. It's a bad word." "Quite right, it is, and I shouldn't have said it." He felt for his watch with his other hand but it was broken. Mentally he checked all the parts of his body. Legs, OK. A weight on them, but he could move them both. Body, pain in his side, otherwise all right. Arms. Well the least said about arms the better. Head. Very sore, but his brain seemed to be functioning. His main problem was that he was pinned by his left arm. He reached across with his right hand to feel what was on top of it. A large, stone block was lying half across his lower arm and wrist. The trouble was that although it moved he had not the strength in his broken arm to move it. "Hey, kids. Do you think you could crawl over here and pull at this block? Then I might be able to get free." The two children pulled at the block and Alan dragged at his left arm with his right. After several attempts he was able to wriggle forwards. Ignoring the pain in his arm he joined the children in their refuge under the table. "Now all we have to do it wait for morning," he said as cheerfully as he could. The children, reassured by an adult presence snuggled up to him and promptly fell asleep. Alan, his arm and head throbbing unmercifully, lent back against the wall. 'Hurry up, Scott,' he thought. On to Chapter Five: Morning.