Earthquake Terror Read Online Free Page A

small dog but the moment Jonathan saw the big golden retriever, who was then one year old, he knew which dog he wanted.
    Mrs. Palmer had said, “He’s too big to be a house dog.”
    Mr. Palmer said, “I think he’s half moose.”
    Jonathan laughed and said, “That’s what I’ll name him. Moose.”
    His parents tried unsuccessfully to interest Jonathan in one of the other, smaller dogs, before they gave in and brought Moose home.
    Despite his size, Moose was a house dog from the start, and he slept beside Jonathan’s bed every night. They played fetch, and their own version of tag, and Jonathan took Moose for long walks in the county park. In the summer, they swam whenever they had a chance.
    When Abby had her accident and Jonathan’s parents focused so much of their attention on her, Moose was Jonathan’s comfort and companion.
    Now, in the devastation of the earthquake, Jonathan again found comfort in the dog’s presence. He let go of Moose and looked around. “Wow!” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “That was some earthquake.”
    “Is it over?” Abby’s voice was thin and high.
    “I think so.”
    He grasped Abby’s hand and pulled her out from under the tree. She sat up, apparently uninjured, and began picking leaves out of her hair.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “My knee is cut.” She touched one knee and her voice rose. “It’s bleeding,” she said, her lip trembling. “You pushed me under the tree too hard.”
    Jonathan examined her knee. It was a minor cut. He knew that if he made a fuss over it, Abby would cry. He had seen it happen before; if his mother showed concern about a small injury, Abby practically got hysterical, but if Mom acted like it was no big deal, Abby relaxed, too. It was as if she didn’t know whether she hurt or not until she saw how her parents reacted.
    “It’s all right,” he said. “If that tiny little scrape is all you got, you are lucky, and so am I. We could have been killed.”
    “We could?” Abby’s eyes grew round.
    Quickly Jonathan said, “But we weren’t, and the earthquake is over now.”
    “Where’s my walker?” she asked. “What happened to my walker?”
    Jonathan stood up. His legs felt wobbly, the way they always did when he got off his skateboard after skating for a long time.
    “I’ll get it,” he said, but when he looked around, he did not see Abby’s walker. He didn’t even see the trail where she had been standing when the walker was jolted out of her hands. Toppled trees crisscrossed the earth like spilled toothpicks.
    Not all of the trees had fallen, but even those that remained standing had lost limbs. The ground was littered with branches of all kinds.
    “I want my walker.” Abby was near tears again, looking frantically in all directions. “Where is my walker?”
    “It’s under one of the fallen trees,” he said. “I’ll find it.”
    Jonathan began to lift the downed branches, looking under them. In some places, branches were layered three or four deep. Many were too large and heavy to lift; all he could do was dig through the leaves and try to see what was underneath.
    “Do you see it?” Abby asked.
    “Not yet. But it has to be close by. We were standing right here when the earthquake started.”
    “No, we weren’t. We were over there.” Abby pointed about twenty feet from where Jonathan was searching.
    He hesitated. She might be right. He couldn’t swear which direction they had rolled on the ground, or how farhe had crawled, trying to find protection under the fallen tree. And it was impossible to tell where the trail had been. The woods looked the same in every direction: devastated.
    He climbed over a pile of branches, making his way toward where Abby pointed. As he continued his search, his mind raced, wondering exactly how much damage the earthquake had done. What about Mom and Dad? Had they made it into town already or were they still in the car when the quake came? What if the road was blocked