Read Online Flash Flood by Chris Ryan - Free Book Online Page B

grown. Now she might be dead. And what about Bel … ?
    That made him pull himself together. His journey on the raft had ended with him here, safe on dry land. Surely what happened from now on couldn’t be as bad as that. Think clearly , he told himself. What’s the best thing to do now?
    He pulled the Burberry around him and did up the belt while he thought. Suddenly it came to him. Charing Cross. He’d arranged to meet Bel there at 3.30. Surely she would be doing everything in her power to make the appointment. And with no phones working, going to Charing Cross was the only way he could meet up with her again.
    He looked at his watch. The digital display was blank – of course, it had died in the water too. Another thought came to him, stopping him in his tracks like an axe blow. Had Bel managed to get safely away from Westminster? Why had he never wondered if she might be in danger? Would she be at Charing Cross waiting for him? Or was she … ?
    Immediately Ben felt a wave of anger. You’d better have got away, he thought. You’ve already rearranged our day. I’ve already had to kill time while you went to your meeting with some politician. He probablydidn’t want to talk to you anyway – they usually don’t. You’d better not leave me on my own in this wrecked city. Charing Cross, 3.30, you said. You’d better be there .
    Now that he had a plan he felt better. But it gave him more problems to solve. How should he get there? He didn’t know London that well. What if Charing Cross was underwater?
    No point in thinking like that. If he found that it was flooded, he’d work out something else to do. The most important thing was to try to get there.
    A map. He needed a map. He had no money to buy one so he would have to borrow one again. He went back to the car, but it seemed to be empty of anything useful. Then he peered in through the taxi’s open door, the swan watching his every move with black, alien eyes.
    He couldn’t see a map. Maybe taxi drivers didn’t need them because they knew the streets off by heart. He reached in to open the glove compartment, but his hand paused. It felt like stealing.
    It’s not stealing , he told himself. It’s survival. I’m only looking for a map, not money or valuablesor anything. And the taxi has been abandoned.
    There was no map in there anyway. He would have to try the van.
    As he walked round the front of the taxi, smashed brake and indicator lights crunched under his feet, making a wet mosaic of red and orange plastic.
    Ben was keeping an eye on the swan, which was still glaring at him. He moved slowly and spoke to it soothingly. ‘I only want to look for a map. I’m not going to hurt you.’ He turned away to open the van door.
    A honking sound behind him made him whirl round again. The swan was on its feet, half hopping, half charging towards him. Its wings were spread and its head was hooked backwards, like a cobra about to strike.
    Ben had heard of swans attacking people but he’d never quite believed it. And until now he’d never realized how big they were and how fierce they looked.
    The wings beat ferociously, making a noise like wind snatching at a heavy sail. Another fact he’d heard about swans popped into Ben’s head.Apparently a swan could break your leg with a blow of its wings. Rubbish, he’d thought. But he changed his mind when he heard the sound of those powerful wings.
    The swan’s neck uncoiled and its orange beak thrust forward like a dart. Ben backed away, fast.
    The bird hopped awkwardly towards him and he retreated further, ready to run. But after another thrust with its beak the swan settled down on the ground again.
    Ben stood, frozen. Was it safe to move again?
    Then he saw blood trickling into the oily puddle and remembered the swan’s awkward hopping gait. It was injured. That must be why it had attacked.
    He continued to back away, his hands low in a gesture of apology. ‘I’m sorry.’
    There was another abandoned car on