Free Runaway Twin by Peg Kehret Page A

to rob me. He looked at me for a second, then closed his eyes.
    â€œI’ll keep digging,” I said, “until you can crawl out of there.”
    He moaned.
    I tugged at the rubble that covered Randy’s shoulders and back. When his arms were free, I said, “Can you raise up on your elbows and pull yourself loose?”
    He struggled briefly, then started to cry. “My legs hurt,” he said. “My legs hurt really bad.”
    â€œI’ll dig them free,” I said.
    But I didn’t.
    I couldn’t. When I yanked a piece of ceiling off Randy’s legs, it revealed a cast-iron sink lying on top of him. The sink covered his legs from mid-thigh to mid-calf. His ankles protruded out the bottom at an unnatural angle. His legs were surely broken.
    If I lifted the sink off him, I could fashion splints from pieces of board and make him more comfortable while he waited for medical help.
    I tugged with all my strength, but I was not able to remove the heavy sink.
    â€œThere’s a sink on top of your legs,” I said, “and it’s too heavy for me to move it. I’m going for help. I’ll send someone back to get you out of here.”
    â€œDon’t leave me,” Randy whimpered. “I don’t want to stay here alone.”
    â€œWhere are Zooman and Hunker?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t know. We came home to their house to get some lunch and we heard hail on the roof. I was in the bathroom when I heard Zooman yell, ‘It’s a twister! Run to the shelter!’”
    Good, I thought. Maybe there are other survivors who are still in a storm shelter.
    â€œBy the time I got out of the bathroom, Zooman and Hunker were gone. When I called to them, they didn’t answer.” Randy spoke haltingly, as if it hurt to talk. “I stepped outside, but I didn’t see them, and then the wind blew so hard I fell down, and then something landed on top of me and I blacked out.” Sobs temporarily replaced words as he struggled for control. “When I woke up, I couldn’t move or see and my legs hurt. I lay here, and then I heard you calling, and I answered.”
    I patted Randy’s shoulder. How could the older boys have run to the shelter and left him behind?
    â€œI’ll get help for you,” I said. “You need to lie as still as you can while I’m gone. I promise I’ll find someone and send them here to get you out.”
    â€œCross your heart?” he asked.
    â€œCross my heart.”
    Tears trickled down his muddy cheeks. “We were mean to you,” he said.
    I wondered if he was afraid I wouldn’t really help him because of what had happened earlier. “Zooman and Hunker were mean,” I said. “I don’t think you wanted to take my money, but you were scared of them.”
    â€œI’m scared now, too.”
    â€œI’ll hurry,” I said. “I’ll send help as fast as I can.”
    I left Randy pinned under the sink. I wasn’t going to find a veterinarian here, or a doctor for Randy, or aid of any kind. I returned to the road and hurried back toward Snickers. I had spent a long time trying to free Randy, and my dog still needed help.
    My arms ached from lifting and digging to get to Randy, and my fingernail throbbed where the splinter was lodged under it. I wished I could take a warm shower and then crawl into my comfy bed at Rita’s house and have a nap.
    As I headed back to Snickers, I thought back to televised news accounts of natural disasters. The Red Cross usually sent workers. So did the government, although I remembered that the government aid was often slow to arrive. After Hurricane Katrina, animal-rescue groups had gone to New Orleans to aid with injured or lost pets. Maybe that would happen here and an animal-rescue group would help Snickers. Not today, though. It takes a day or two for rescue groups to arrive. I wasn’t sure Snickers could wait that long.
    I