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Authors: Mark Robson

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BOOK: The Devil's Triangle
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Seconds later, they were racing along the sand again, presumably with the other two creatures following. Despite the mind-numbing fear that seemed to be preventing Sam from making any sense of his situation, he had noticed a couple of interesting things while they had stopped. Firstly, one of the other two creatures following them was now wearing the yellow survival pack from the boat slung round its neck. Secondly, Sam had gained his first look at the creatures from behind and unless his eyes were playing tricks on him, they seemed to have a bony ridge down their spines from the back of their heads to the middle of their backs. Below this was a short, fat stump that appeared to be either the beginnings of, or the vestigial remains of, a tail.

Mrs Davies, his biology teacher, would no doubt go into raptures over them, he thought. Assuming they were contained in a zoo of course. Were these creatures alien? If not, how had they remained undiscovered? They didn’t look like any of the monsters he had seen people supposedly searching for on the
Discovery Channel
. And what had been in the trees? Whatever it was had sounded huge and even scarier than their current captors. Could he and Callum have inadvertently stumbled into a top-secret experimental area? Perhaps the creatures were the result of a bizarre genetic experiment. That made a twisted sort of sense. Scientists were constantly messing with genetics these days. But anybody could see they were dangerous, so why were these creatures being allowed to run loose?

Sam found himself thinking about the film
Jurassic Park
. These creatures looked nothing like the dinosaurs in the film, but the thing that had gone crashing through the trees back there had been massive. Hearing it had reminded him of some of the tyrannosaur scenes. In the film it was the most dangerous dinosaurs that had broken through the park boundaries and overrun the Visitor Centre. Was this place a sort of twisted Jurassic Park?

‘Wouldn’t that be just my luck?’ he growled.


Whaaat?

The moan was barely audible above the wind.

‘Cal! Callum? Are you OK?’

His friend lolled under the creature’s other arm like a bundle of wet laundry as they raced along the beach.

‘Cal? Can you hear me?’

Nothing. Callum looked in a bad way, but Sam felt a warm flood of relief at the thought that his friend was still alive. Escaping with Callum in his current state would take a miracle, but Sam knew he must not begin to think it impossible. Remaining hopeful was essential if he was to keep his mind working. They had survived the storm on the ocean, hadn’t they? What were the odds of that? Long at best, he decided. Overcoming long odds needed a combination of luck and tenacity. He had done it once. He could do it again.

Think positive
, he told himself.
Don’t give up
.

A tongue of rocks projected down the beach and into the sea ahead. Sam expected his captor to slow as they approached, but the creature’s running rhythm barely stuttered as they powered up and over the rocky outcrop. It leapt from rock to rock with goat-like sure-footedness and with a final gigantic leap, they flew down to land on the soft sand of the beach on the far side. Despite the force of the impact, the creature’s massive legs appeared to absorb the shock of landing with ease and it continued running without any sign of effort.

‘Bloody hell!’ Sam swore under his breath. What would it take to slow this thing down?

Rather than running straight on down the beach, they turned left and raced up through the softer sand towards the jungle. Sam knew from experience how hard it was to run through soft sand, but the extra effort did not appear to have any effect on the lizard-man other than a slight shortening of its stride.

It was quieter here, the rocky outcrop providing a natural barrier against the storm winds. As they approached the trees, Sam could see that the foliage was barely moving. Instinctively closing his eyes, tucking his head down and tensing his shoulders in expectation of the same whipping impacts he had experienced when he had first been carried from the jungle, Sam did not see the path coming. It was not visible until they entered it, cutting into the trees at an oblique angle.

The sound of the creature’s footfalls changed as they entered the trees. Sam suddenly felt a weird sensation of enclosure. After a few moments, he tentatively lifted his head and cracked his eyes open. He did so just in time to witness the end of the short path and see their destination, which proved to be a whole new surprise. He had expected a cave, or a nest, or a further group of creatures with hungry grins. Instead, he found himself blinking with amazement as they entered a small clearing and approached a large wooden house with a pitched roof. It seemed to be of human design, tucked in the lee of the low rocky outcrop.

They stopped a few paces short of the front door and the creature let out one of its fearsome roars. Sam felt as though his heart might burst free from his chest as his imagination ran wild. Was he about to be saved or did a new horror lurk within?

A voice called out inside the building – a human voice. What was more, the voice held no note of fear.

‘Leah! We’ve got company.’

There was a short pause and the door of the building opened. A man stepped out on to the threshold. He didn’t look particularly old, but his thick mop of hair was white-grey and he had a trimmed beard and moustache of the same colour. Sam had never been so pleased to see anybody in his life.

With an abruptness that took him totally by surprise, Sam was dropped to the ground. Callum landed with a thud next to him. The lizard-man made some clicking noises. They were much slower than when the creatures had chattered at each other earlier. To Sam’s amazement, the man in the doorway responded with some throat-bending clicks of his own. There was a further exchange and then the man bowed and waved as the creatures turned and raced away back towards the beach.

Sam found he couldn’t move. His relief was so intense that all strength deserted him and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

‘Are you OK, boy?’ the man asked, kneeling at Sam’s side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘I’ll be fine in a minute,’ Sam sniffed. ‘I’m not hurt, but I think my friend Callum might be hypothermic’

‘Well, don’t worry. We’ll get Callum inside and warm him up. With any luck, he’ll be right as rain in no time. Are there any others with you?’

‘No,’ Sam replied. ‘It was just us on our boat. We did see a light earlier, but that seemed to be coming from the land.’ He paused and then continued in a rush. ‘Excuse me, sir, but who are you? And what were those things that brought me here? And
where
is here?’

The man looked him in the eye and gave a wry smile.

‘Have you ever see the film
The Wizard of Oz
, lad?’ he asked in return.

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Well, let’s just say, “You’re not in Kansas any more!”’

 
CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Yes, that’s right. They’re
still
missing.’ Matthew Cutler’s face said it all as he spoke into the phone: frustration, pain and anger.

Niamh finally understood the haunted look in his eyes. She had seen it many times before, normally whenever anyone mentioned her mum, Claire, but she had never truly understood it until now. She had felt strangely hollow since Sam’s disappearance, but at least she could sense he was still alive. How must it be for her dad? He had never had such assurance with Mum, nor would he have it now with Sam. It was no wonder he looked the way he did.

Niamh had few memories of her mother and those she did have were vague. Blonde hair. Warmth. Feelings of love and security. She had looked at pictures many times of course. Whenever she looked at them, she felt sadness and a sense of loss – not the loss of something tangible, but for something she’d never really had. All the other girls at school had grown up with mothers to care for them and love them and talk girly stuff with them. What would that have been like? Niamh could only imagine. She felt cheated and sometimes confused. Dad had been great at caring for her, but Niamh had often felt jealous when she saw the way her friends acted around their mothers. She could not help feeling that she had missed out on the most special relationship of her childhood.

More recently, looking at the pictures had also created confusion as to which were true memories and which were false, created from the paper and digital images. When she had last looked at the photos, Niamh had finally realised just how beautiful her mother had been. Looking in the mirror, Niamh had appreciated that she had inherited some of her mother’s features. It seemed the older she got, the more the likeness grew ever more apparent.

Niamh had noticed an odd look appear in her dad’s eyes when he was looking at her sometimes. It had made her feel strangely uncomfortable, and she knew that in those moments it was not her he was seeing.

‘As I told you earlier, they left about ten this morning,’ Matthew said, impatience rising in his tone. He rarely displayed anger openly, but Niamh could see her dad was building towards an explosion.

‘Calm,’ she mouthed, making a slow downward gesture with the palms of her hands. ‘Deep breath.’ She inhaled deeply through her nose, inflating her chest to its full capacity. Matthew gave a wry smile and an almost imperceptible nod. The venom melted from his voice.

‘Yes, I can give you the details of the boat again . . .’

Niamh moved away into the kitchen. The pizzas they had ordered should be arriving any time and she couldn’t stand eating it straight from the box with her fingers the way the boys normally did. Pulling a large wooden breadboard from the cupboard under the microwave, Niamh set to work laying the dining table.

First she set out the place mats, coasters, knives and forks before putting two plates in a bowl of hot water to warm. After all the trauma and excitement, it felt good to do something so routine, even if it did feel wrong to only set two place settings. As she carefully poured out two tall glasses of fruit juice, Niamh realised that she was still a bit shaky.

With all that had happened today, she could not imagine for one second how she was ever going to sleep again. ‘What if’ questions rattled round and round inside her head with little hope of any answers. What if the boys were gone forever? What if the coastguards found wreckage, but no bodies? What if the weather was stormy again tomorrow? What if, what if, what if!

There was a knock at the door. Niamh moved instantly to answer it. A pizza delivery boy was standing inside the porch with two boxes balanced on the fingertips of his left hand. His dark hair was plastered to his head and his shirt was soaking wet. Behind him the rain sheeted down in torrents. It was dark enough to be mistaken for evening outside, yet it was barely past four in the afternoon. Where were the boys? Even the thought of being out on the sea in this weather made Niamh shudder. At the moment she could not sense what was happening to Sam, but his presence had not disappeared altogether. She felt confident he was still alive.

‘Twenty-three ninety, please,’ the boy said, giving Niamh a warm smile. He gave a sideways flick of his head. ‘Another fine day in paradise.’

As if to ratify his sarcasm, there was a flash of lightning followed almost instantly by a loud crash of thunder. He visibly flinched, but quickly grinned again in an effort to look as if he was dismissive of the storm.

‘Just a sec,’ she answered, leaving the door ajar and running silently through to the living area where her dad was still on the phone. She waved to get his attention and signalled that she needed some money. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, throwing it across to her and continuing his conversation with the coastguard.

Niamh caught the wallet, opened it and riffled through the notes. As she walked back to the door she drew out a twenty, a five and three one-dollar bills.

‘There you go,’ she said, passing the money over and taking the boxes. She could feel the heat of the pizza through the cardboard and the smell of it was heavenly.

‘Thanks,’ he replied, noting the tip. ‘Enjoy your food.’

‘Thank you. We will.’

She closed the door and took the boxes to the table.

‘. . . and if there’s any news . . . any news at all, you’ll ring me. Good. I appreciate that, thanks.’ Matthew hung up.

‘Perfect timing, Dad,’ Niamh said. ‘Come and get some while it’s hot.’

‘I just want to ring the Sheriff’s Office . . .’ he began, picking up the handset again.

‘Please, have some food first,’ she begged. ‘It’ll get cold. Don’t make me eat alone. The Sheriff’s Office will still be there in ten minutes. You know how I can normally feel when Sam’s in trouble? Well, I’m not getting any sense of danger at the moment. He’s OK. I’ve no idea where he is, but I think we can spare a few minutes to eat. Come and sit down.’

Matthew hesitated a moment, then he put the phone down and joined her at the table. Despite feeling hungry, Niamh found that for all her brave words, now the food was in front of her she could hardly eat anything. The aroma from the pizza was wonderful, but from the first bite she found herself struggling to swallow. Hawaiian pizza was her favourite, and this one was a beauty. The thin base was perfectly cooked, and the blend of the meat with the sweet pineapple was just right, but her stomach rebelled. It churned continually with tangled emotions.

BOOK: The Devil's Triangle
8.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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