Free The Lightning Catcher by Anne Cameron Page A

even halfway across the tunnel, they were walking into a very stiff breeze. After another two minutes, the wind had somehow reached near gale force and it was almost impossible to stand upright. Angus battled his way into the fierce gusts, his head bent, his shoulders hunched. Several other lightning cubs were in much bigger trouble. Georgina Fox’s coat had been blown inside out like a parachute, and she was now tumbling in the wrong direction. Dougal’s earmuffs, already far too big for his head, were acting like a pair of fluffy wings and threatening to lift him off the ground completely.
    Angus inched his way forward, one laborious step at a time. But finally, after what felt like several hours, he clambered through a round door at the other end of the tunnel and found himself standing in a small chamber, facing yet another door.
    â€œEverybody make it?” the lightning catcher asked as the last of the windblown group finally appeared in the chamber. “Good, on to the next section, then. Follow me.”
    â€œHow many sections do you reckon there are?” Dougal asked, looking worried.
    The next section of the weather tunnel reminded Angus of a large greenhouse, and a blast of stifling heat hit him as soon as he stepped through the door, along with the heady smell of fresh compost. The tunnel was stuffed from floor to ceiling with large tropical palm trees, ferns, and exotic-looking flowers that were dripping pollen all over the floor. It was like being transported to the middle of a rain forest. A second later, torrential rain began falling from the ceiling.
    â€œKeep moving, everybody!” Catcher Mint shouted happily above the deluge. “It’s just a drop or two of water, nothing to worry about.”
    Within seconds, however, small warm rivers were running down the insides of Angus’s rubber boots. The floor became a swirling torrent that tugged at his feet and tried to sweep him away. Nigel Ridgely and Violet Quinn, who had both taken off their hats as soon as they’d entered the hot tunnel, now looked like a pair of drowned rats.
    The downpour stopped just as suddenly as it had started, and from somewhere overhead a baking hot sun began beating down on them instead. Angus undid the top buttons on his coat to stop himself from suffocating in the sudden heat, but the end of the tunnel was now, thankfully, in sight.
    He was just about to climb through the round door that led to the next chamber when the girl with the horse-chestnut-colored hair shot in front of him and pushed him hastily to one side.
    â€œWatch out!” she warned as a large, hairy coconut fell from an overhanging palm tree, narrowly missing them both. It smashed open on the ground, exactly where Angus had been standing just seconds before.
    â€œWow . . . thanks!” he gasped. “I owe you one for that. Er . . . sorry, but I don’t even know your name—”
    â€œIt’s Indigo. Indigo Midnight,” the girl said quietly from beneath her rain hat. She gave him a brief, embarrassed smile, but before Angus could say anything else, she’d climbed through the round door and disappeared into the next chamber.
    Angus stepped gingerly over the smashed coconut, trying not to imagine what would have happened to his head if it had made contact with the hard, hairy nut. Indigo had just saved him from a serious concussion, or worse.
    The lightning cubs climbed through the next round door and entered a desolate, boggy moor, complete with wet grass, thick mud, and dense, swirling fog that tasted like the bottom of a swamp. Progress was painfully slow as they tripped, stumbled, and squelched their way over the soggy ground. And Angus couldn’t help wondering what treacherous conditions they would have to face next. Would they be thrown into the middle of a vicious thunderstorm? Would they be required to catch a lightning bolt in a tin cup, in order to test the strength of the rubber