Chapter Seventeen

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Sandbeach Caravan Park.

Having grown up here, Sam Bicknall knew the park intimately. Over the years he'd helped his father transform it from a derelict coastal salt marsh field to what it was today. As he drove the aged tractor flat out along the tarmac access road he racked his brains to think of a quicker way to reach the gently rising ground at the northern edge of the site and escape the tsunami that was gaining on him along with the Fennings cowering behind in the trailer. But no matter what alternative routes he considered they all ended up at one choke point; the sole narrow wooden bridge spanning the drainage ditch which bisected the park. If that was blocked, or another vehicle unaware of their peril was crossing in the other direction, they'd had it.

Sam cursed Laurie's decision taken years ago when planning the site to have the access roads meander through the park in a series of gentle curves redolent of branching seaweed; right now he wanted every little advantage he could get to distance the wave, but the languid drives were the only way through the closely packed ranks of pastel cream, dove grey, and mint green mobile homes.

Sam risked a backwards glance; the swell had rapidly transformed itself from a dark ripple on the horizon to a froth spumed breaker, rearing up as the water at its front was slowed by the friction exerted by the shallowing beach and pushed up by the powerful seismic pulse behind it. As the light caught the spray it sparkled a bright silver; incongruously Bicknall thought it was such a beautifully deadly sight but even as he did so the tsunami seemed to lunge forward onto the shore. Relentlessly the churning wall of water crashed onward; Sam glimpsed it obliterating the first beachside caravans before he looked back at the road.

Just in time he saw the car inconsiderately turning at speed from a side spur onto the central spine. Somehow Bicknall was able to swerve right onto the verge and just avoid being clipped by the reckless driver who roared away ahead of him.

Bloody typical! he thought. I don't recognise the car so it must be a short-term stayer; probably lent the keys by a friend who is a part-time resident, or it might be a member who only turned up now and then.

Sam knew the sort only too well: They didn't share the park's sense of community which people like George and Renie did; only coming for a few weekends a year, and only then to vigorously contest their site fees or service invoices, and you try to get them to actually spend money on a butane gas cylinder for their 'van... No, they wanted everything on credit, probably so they could defer paying for it as long as possible, the tight bastards!

They were the type who did well from their businesses, legitimate or otherwise, yet considered because they did so it gave them the right to treat the park staff like dirt. The sort of wankers who balked at paying the fee for me or any of the other onsite handymen to maintain their laminated chipboard wheeled shed in a field because they couldn't be arsed to. No doubt the savings they made from this sort of chancing went towards another belated repayment on their all show and chrome but no go, bison bodied hulk of a faux-by-faux tearing out of sight around the corner...

Bicknall's bile fuelled train of invective was interrupted by a kid - probably no more than ten years old - dashing across his path. The boy was out of his way and vanished between the caravans before Sam had time to react: The child only one of a few people who had seen the onrushing danger and were now running for their lives.

Sam looked behind again; the wave was gaining on them, seemingly undiminished in power, now the same height as the park homes it effortlessly plucked from their concrete hard standings, brick surrounds, and tie down chains; rolling them over until they began to disintegrate under the hammering. God help anyone caught in that roiling, tumbling tumult; they wouldn't stand a chance!

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