Late

• Sarah Warburton, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2021

Deep aquamarine sprawled across the horizon. A seagull’s piercing cry sliced through the muggy, evening air. I waded into the water, cool swells soothing my muscles. Bright yellow corals flashed against the green expanse. Diving down, grey fish darted beyond my reach and gritty, white sand grazed my feet. I swam back towards the surface, air exploding from my lungs as my head broke the waves. A storm was brewing in the southwest, reminding me of my duties. Leaping out of the surf, I sprinted back towards the camp. Dry grass crunched underfoot. The rain would certainly be welcomed this summer. Shaking the water from my body, I slipped into the cave. Thunder rumbled and a rising breeze brought the smell of rain.
“Rontu! Where have you been?”
“Not now, Siora,” I sighed.
“Pita will know about this,” Siora growled darkly.
Thunder roared outside the cave as the storm engulfed the beach. Lightning tore across the sky, splitting the world in half. Lilian was huddled up against the rocky wall, afraid.
“Where is Pita, Rontu?” Lilian whimpered.
Siora scowled disapprovingly.
“Out hunting. Now sleep, little Lilian. Pita will be home tomorrow.”
Lilian’s head drooped as she curled up against my body. Lulled by the drumming rain, I too fell asleep.
Roused by a loud crack of thunder, I woke to water lapping at my feet. Realising the danger, I dashed to Leader’s cave.
“The camp is flooding!” I yelled. Leader’s lean form began to stir.
“Rontu!” he growled. “Return to your cave at once.”
Only then did he see the water rising through the cave system.
“Wolves,” he howled. “Arise!”
Leader began the evacuation. Some dens, including mine, were now blocked by debris, the wolves occupying them trapped. Faint whimpers emanated from their depths. I thought back to Pita, then to Lilian and Siora trapped in our den, but on high ground. Who to help? Mind whirring, I made a decision. My sisters are safe for now. Pita, not so much.
Bracing myself, I braved the driving rain and ran into the forest. Water had risen everywhere, making movement hard. A rocky ridge loomed ahead, shrouded in fog. I paddled towards it, being the highest ground. My paws scraped across the rock as I grappled for purchase on the slippery surface. I climbed up, pausing only to catch my breath. Caves pockmarked the ridge. Could Pita be in one of these? I crawled into the nearest cave and padded into the darkness. Even with my keen sight, I was enveloped in inky blackness. Sounding a soft bark, I sensed a cave-in ahead. Then, echoing through the cave, came a whimper that wasn’t mine. “Pita?” I howled in desperation. Pawing frantically through the rubble, I could scent Pita. After what seemed like an age, I felt his soft pelt under my muzzle. I yelped in excitement. But Pita didn’t move. Hurriedly, I felt for his breathing. Nothing. Pita’s body was still warm. I was too late.