‘I’m not,’ said Cleo. ‘But worrying won’t make the ground stop shaking.’
For a while they sat in silence, listening to the faint hum of the generator and the low murmurs of voices from the tents.
The night smelled of salt and woodsmoke and somewhere near, a dog barked. It was a raw, lonely sound that echoed round the camp, then the earth gave a sudden, sharp shudder.
It was slight – just a quick, hard jolt – but it sent a ripple through the camp. People shouted and a baby wailed. The three women froze, their eyes meeting in shared terror, and Cleo could feel her pulse in her throat.
Then as quickly as it had come, it was gone.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, forcing her voice to stay calm. ‘I think it’s passed.’
Tash’s breathing was shallow. ‘God, I hate that feeling. It’s as if the world’s trying to throw you off. I feel as if the shaking’s going to toss me off the ground and up into the air. I’ll spin into outer space, never to be seen again.’
Maya pressed her palms to her eyes. ‘How do people in earthquake zones live like this, with the constant fear?’
‘I don’t think they do,’ Cleo said softly. ‘Not really. I reckon they somehow manage to put the earthquakes to the back of their mind, the same as people who live near active volcanoes. They have to just keep going, otherwise, they’d go mad.’
The aftershock left a strange hush behind it, a silence that felt almost too big for the night to contain. Then, around them, people began murmuring again and a sense of relief and contentment returned slowly, like the incoming tide.
Maya lowered her hands and stared at the darkening horizon.
‘I used to think fear was something you could overcome. You know, you could reason your way through it. But this is different.’
Tash nodded. ‘It’s the not knowing that’s so scary. You can’t prepare for the ground moving under you.’
‘No,’ Cleo agreed. ‘I guess you have to try to move with it, to bend instead of break. The same as in life, really.’
Just then, Achilles approached them with his guitar slung over his shoulder.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked. ‘That was quite a shock. You look like you’ve survived.’
Cleo brushed the hair from her face. ‘Barely. I hope that’s it now and there aren’t any more tremors.’
Achilles smiled at her, lingering just a little too long, and her pulse quickened.
‘There might still be more, but you’re a strong woman,’ he said. ‘You and your friends are all strong.’ He glanced briefly at Tash and Maya before returning to Cleo. ‘You’re a survivor.’
Cleo’s heart swelled and tears pricked in her eyes. Little did he know this was one of the nicest things anyone had said to her for ages.
‘Thank you,’ was all she managed in reply.
The short silence that followed was interrupted by Katerina, arriving with a pot of lentil soup, a ladle, and three bowls and spoons.
‘Eat,’ she commanded. ‘Heroes need strength.’
Cleo laughed. ‘Heroes? Hardly.’
Katerina gave a small smile. ‘Yes, heroes. The quiet kind.’
Cleo watched while the old woman set the pot on the ground and proceeded to fill three bowls with steaming liquid. The smell was delicious and Cleo’s stomach growled so loudly, everyone could hear.
Achilles laughed. ‘Someone’s hungry.’
‘I am,’ Cleo replied, carefully taking a bowl from Katerina’s outstretched hands and passing it to Tash. ‘I’m sure we all are.’
Achilles nodded and cleared his throat.
‘I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal,’ he said, giving Cleo one last look. ‘Bon appétit. See you tomorrow.’
