Chapter Two

A little over a week later, Helena was on the plane that was taking her to America. James was away now, preparing to fight. Her father was fighting. Her mother was dead and their home was destroyed by the bombs. Most nights since, Helena cried herself to sleep, and in her dreams she saw her mother, dead. Her body mangled. Her funeral bought no closure. But she also saw her brother and her father return home in coffins. Her dreams at night were now nightmares.

The necklace still hung around her neck, and it was of great comfort. Her main luggage, for whatever reason, was already in America, sent forward on some sort of cargo plane. She had to buy new clothes for her trip—it was a good thing her family was well off. She couldn't even imagine what the poor were going through. They couldn't afford to be sent abroad.

She had lived with James in a countryside cottage before now, and it was a nice change from the busy streets of London and the dirty air. The country children were a little batty, though, but nice enough. And there were farm animals which Helena had only ever seen a couple of times before.

Helena looked around the plane, and saw only school children, some her age; most of them were younger. Everybody was wearing their uniforms as they were registered with their schools as part of the evacuation process. Helena absent-mindedly fiddled with her tie as she scanned for any familiar faces amongst the group. But she saw nobody else wearing the Headington School uniform. Actually, she saw no girls at all. She was only on this plane because her father used to be the headmaster of one of the schools. There was a certain group of boys that had caught Helena's eye, though. She studied the hambone frill, long black cloaks and black caps with silver badges pinned to them.

It was then that a red-headed boy caught her eye; he was staring at her, not unkindly though. He had bright blue eyes that met her equally bright green ones, staring at him through her black "peek-a-boo" bangs, a popular hairdo for young women. His badge wasn't silver, but gold. He seemed important; he had that aura about him.

Sighing and leaning back in her seat, the plane's engine roared to life. Helena had been on a plane before to go on family holidays to places like France—well, that won't be happening anymore, now that France had fallen to the Germans. Due to the War and the nature of the Nazis, Helena was really losing her faith in mankind—we're all savages.

As the plane rose into the air, and some excited first-timers squealed in excitement, Helena relaxed momentarily as they soared higher and higher, and eventually over the sea. She'll have to handle her new life, just like everybody else. Stop with the crying, the nightmares and get through it. Helena remembered when they had found out they were at war, like it was yesterday...the neighbourhood had gathered in the Town Hall, all crowded around a little radio which told them their fate. Neville Chamberlain, the old Prime Minister, had said ...and consequently this country is at war with Germany. An uproar had followed this, and quite rightly so. Women held their men tightly; the men who would give their lives, as the men before them did during the First War. Helena's own father had stepped down as headmaster and joined the army almost in an instant. And now James was 18, he had followed him. Because of the conscription law.

She gripped her hand rest as she thought of her future—of her new life. America was not part of the War. Yet, anyway. Perhaps life will be better. Her relatives will surely be nice enough, and she had her father's old school to thank that she could get to see them in the first place.

But then suddenly—well, it all happened very fast. First, alarms blared throughout the cabin, lights flashed and Helena couldn't breathe. And then the weather outside poured in and Helena, who still had her seatbelt on, felt a force trying to throw her upwards and out of the plane.

It was all happening too fast and Helena couldn't gather her thoughts or fathom what was going on as the plane swerved this way and that; the noises the rest of the passengers were making were even worse. But then the plane hit land and Helena was thrown from her seat. She scrambled from the plane, clambering over the wing and landing on what seemed like grass—but it was dark and she couldn't tell.

People were screaming. Helena was too, though she wasn't aware of it. Other children were scattered around her, running, crying. She heard the storm whip the plane from its landing strip and drag it away. Some kids were trapped inside it. She didn't know where they had landed, where the remains of the plane had gone, what everybody else was doing.

But the rain was beating down hard, the wind slapped her face and the trees swayed dangerously.

And so Helena ran. To find cover until darkness turned into light.

Helena blinked as the sun sneaked over the horizon. Its rays were blinding to her but oh so comforting. She had never been so glad to see light—even more so than after a bombing back home in London. She looked up and saw she was sitting under a huge palm tree with enormous green leaves that sheltered her from the storm of the previous night.

Rubbing her eyes, Helena sighed heavily. She was so tired from getting no sleep all night; she also felt sick, and lonely. So lonely. Where was everybody else? Looking around, she took in her surroundings—there were lots of vines and creepers, huge trees that grew fruit, and a huge canopy above her where some of the smaller trees had stopped growing.

Well, I'm alive. Thank you, God.

Helena suffered from only minor cuts and bruises, some she still sported from last week when her house was blown up. But she was fine. This news lighting Helena's heart, she pushed herself from the rough ground, stood and wiped the dirt off of herself. Her school uniform was almost ruined already.

The weather had taken a dramatic turn since last night. It was now hot. Boiling hot. The air was muggy and heavy around Helena, and she wiped the sweat from her brow. She felt her skin burn from the rays that reached her through the gaps in the tall trees. Scowling, Helena removed her chunky black school shoes and her socks, which were white yesterday. Now they were brown from lying in the dirt all night. She pulled her tie down, undid the top buttons on her blouse and removed her cardigan. Well, this was a little improper, but who cares. She had just crash landed on some hot country, society could forgive her.

Birds cried harshly. She saw a flash of colours sing the Dawn Chorus. Exotic birds! The insects whispered around her too. Where on Earth had they crashed?

But then a noise raised her spirits; a horn. It created a fiasco of noises from the wildlife but Helena didn't care.

She was saved. Right?