BOOOM! by Alan MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

thundering booms from Old Grumbly didn’t help much. Moments later they caught sight of Iggy. He was coming down the river, paddling some sort of wooden craft with a stick twice his size. It was a raft made of a dozen logs lashed together.
    â€˜You got to be joking!’ groaned Hubba.
    Iggy jumped into the water and began pulling the raft towards the bank.
    â€˜Get them on! Quick!’ he urged. The current was moving fast and it took all his strength to prevent the raft from being carried away.
    â€˜It’ll sink! You’ll drown us all!’ shouted Umily.
    â€˜No, it’s safe! Get on!’ Iggy yelled back.
    Clinging to a bit of wood wasn’t Umily’s idea of safe, but then neither was running from waves of fire. The Urks were huddled on the bank, too terrified to move.
    â€˜Come on!’ cried Iggy impatiently. ‘Chief, you tell them.’
    Hammerhead made up his mind. He was too out of breath to run any further so he might as well take his chances with drowning. He waded into the water, yelling at the Urks to follow. Another boom from Old Grumbly persuaded them he might be right. They plunged in, splashing towards the raft. There wasn’t enough room for everyone, but they crowded on anyhow, piling on top of each other while the raft dipped lower in the water. Many of the men had to cling to the sides, hoping for the best. Iggy looked for the last time at the valley and the angry volcano, then pushed off with his stick. In seconds the raft was borne away on the strong current at alarming speed. The Urks howled and clung to each other in fright as the raft tipped, spun and scraped against rocks. Chief Hammerhead was curled in a ball with his eyes shut, praying that the gods would take him quickly. Past Giant’s Rock the crowded raft swept downstream and turned the corner, leaving the Valley of Urk far behind.

Chapter 11
    The High Life
    M orning came and the raft was drifting slowly in a quiet stretch of the river. Iggy groaned. His body ached all over. He had no idea how many miles they’d travelled or how they’d survived being tossed and spun around like a twig in a whirlpool. By some miracle they were all alive, though it was true that most of them looked sick as dogs. He struggled out from the tangled heap of bodies and looked around. The Valley of Urk was nowhere to be seen. The only trace of it was a column of grey smoke in the far north, coming from Old Grumbly.
    Iggy guided the raft towards the bank with his stick. The other Urks were rousing themselves with weary groans, grumbling at those on top of them. In twos and threes they slipped off the raft and waded to the bank, where they stood blinking in the weak sunshine.
    â€˜Where on Urk are we?’ asked Hubba.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ said Iggy. ‘But wherever it is, at least the world hasn’t ended.’
    â€˜How do you know?’
    â€˜Look around you. This isn’t so bad. We could stay here.’
    Hammerhead was wringing dirty water from his furs.
    â€˜We’re Urks,’ he grunted. ‘We live in the Valley of Urk. We’ll go back as soon as I can work out where we are.’
    â€˜Look!’ Hubba’s cry made them all turn. He was pointing along the river to where the bank jutted out, creating a shallow pool. It was clogged with debris from the volcano that had been swept downstream during the night. There were burnt lumps of wood, dirty bones, broken branches and even an animal skull that had once sat on the head of a Noneck warrior. But that wasn’t what had caught Hubba’s attention. A tree trunk floated in the shallows and slumped on top, half in the water, was a person. Hubba and Iggy waded into the river and dragged the soggy creature to the bank. When they laid him down, he spluttered, coughed and opened his eyes.
    â€˜Snark!’ said Iggy, recognising the big ugly nose.
    â€˜Run! Run!’ croaked Snark, gripping his arm and trying to