Fault Lines

by D. J. McCune

  He could hear jeering outside as someone kicked open the door into the boys’ toilets. There were lots of footsteps and cubicle doors slammed before some bright spark called out, ‘He’s gone into the girls’!’ The laughter bought him another few seconds.

  But the buttons on the new shirt were still tight. It was taking too long. Instead he pulled the bottom of his shirt out of his trouser waistband – and something dark and shiny slithered out, falling straight into the toilet bowl. Adam was just about to seize the keystone when he had one flash of inspiration. He stepped up onto the toilet seat and opened the high window. It would look like he had climbed onto the cistern and dropped outside.

  Adam gritted his teeth and reached into the water, just as the door to the toilets was kicked open. ‘At least you picked the right toilets, you little shit. Shall we cut your balls off and then you can come in here all the time, with all the other girls?’ The Beast’s friends laughed but Adam didn’t care. He clenched his fist around the keystone and took a single step forward, willing himself into the Hinterland. The cubicle door slammed towards him and he flinched – but it passed harmlessly through the place where he had been standing a second before. Adam backed away through the toilet as the Beast grinned into the cubicle – only for his face to fall as he found it empty.

  His friends had already searched the other stalls. Weasel came up behind Bulber and pointed up at the window. ‘How did he climb out so fast? Little prick.’

  Michael Bulber didn’t answer for a moment. From the safety of the Hinterland Adam watched him, knowing that Bulber was remembering another time when Adam had made a miraculous escape right beneath his nose. The Beast wasn’t going to admit that to his friends of course. He was glaring up at the window, as if he were trying to imagine Adam’s escape through it. Maybe he was trying to convince himself. At last he scowled. ‘Yeah, he got lucky. He won’t get lucky next time. Chicken shit.’

  Adam didn’t wait around to hear any more. He walked through the wall, emerging on a grassy strip between the school and the car park. He had never been so glad to be swooping for home.

  Chapter 4

  few minutes later Adam was outside the back door of his house, clutching a small suitcase and a suit in a long bag. His mother had been pacing about the kitchen like a caged tiger when he got home, curtly informing him that everyone else had been ready for hours and arriving any later would be an insult to their hosts. Adam had managed to apologise through gritted teeth, although he longed to pour out his tale of woe. Not that Elise would have any sympathy of course. She would be happy about anything that could put Adam off school.

  Now they were all standing around Nathanial, who was checking that the dogs had their keystones on. Sam and Morty were Irish wolfhounds, gifted to the Mortsons by Uncle Paddy. Usually they were working dogs as well as family pets – herding souls in the Hinterland – but for this weekend they were on holiday, just like the rest of the family.

  Chloe was standing silently beside the largest suitcase Adam had ever seen. She was chewing on her lip and staring into space. Adam knew it was probably better staying quiet but some devilish part of him couldn’t resist winding her up. ‘We’re only going for two nights, you know. You’re not going to live there.’

  ‘Yet. Not going to live there yet.’ Luc grinned. ‘At least it’s only September. That time we went to visit in January and they made us go for a walk on the beach … I thought I was going to die.’

  ‘Don’t be such a wimp,’ Auntie Jo said. ‘It’s a beautiful place. Clears the gunk from your lungs. I’ll be going for a run on the beach tomorrow. And if you’ve enough energy to wind people up, you’ve enough energy to come with me.’

  Luc rolled his eyes. ‘You know, I liked you better back when you only loved whiskey and zombies.’

  Elise came out of the back door holding an armful of clothing. ‘Take your coats.’

  Aron blinked. ‘But these are winter coats!’

  Elise’s lips tightened further than should have been humanly possible. ‘The weather is unseasonable in Ireland.’

  ‘Right, I think that’s us.’ Nathanial patted Sam’s ears and the huge dog rested his head adoringly against his master’s hip. ‘So Patrick has placed our Keystone in the garden. We’ll have no problems getting there. Everyone ready?’

  Adam gulped and nodded. Swooping had a way of making him feel like he’d been turned inside out. The family stepped into the Hinterland.

  ‘Let us arrive at the same moment,’ Elise said, always conscious of putting on a good show – even if no one would see them in the Hinterland. ‘Un, deux, trois!’

  Adam closed his eyes and clutched his keystone, letting it do what it had to do. There was a rush of sensations – being squeezed until his breath disappeared; falling into a bottomless pit; being plunged into icy water – and finally a flare of pins and needles prickling across every bit of his skin. When he opened his eyes London was gone, replaced by a different view and a different house. Adam turned his back on the building and instead looked at what lay beyond: the sea.

  Portstruaine was a village on the very northernmost tip of Ireland. Uncle Paddy’s house was on the very tip of Portstruaine and standing in the sloping garden revealed the Atlantic in all its angry glory. The water was grey and endless, broken only by roaring white surges that swept up to the coastal path snaking along beneath the bottom of the garden. The wind was howling; Adam could feel it, even here in the Hinterland. Somehow it always crossed the veil between the physical world and the place of souls.

  ‘We’ll go to the side of the house. Remember, people walk along the coastal path so moving in and out of the Hinterland needs to be kept out of sight,’ Nathanial said.

  Luc was staring down at the water with barely concealed horror. ‘You’d have to be a maniac to walk along there with that coming towards you.’ He pointed at an enormous wave bearing towards the shore, then crashing and foaming on the rocks beside the path.

  Auntie Jo grinned. ‘Living in London is making you soft. A few days with your cousins will harden you up. They’re made of sterner stuff.’

  One advantage of being in the Hinterland was that the luggage was light. They trooped up the lawn past the front of the house, grey and pebble-dashed with large windows for appreciating the view. It was built on a low cliff with views of the ocean in three directions. To the right lay the cliff path; and half a mile away to the left lay a long, golden beach, the village just visible beyond.

  As they reached the side of the house a stable-style door opened and ‘Uncle’ Paddy came out. ‘I’m feeling something moving in the Hinterland.’

  Nathanial nodded at them all and they stepped back into the physical world. ‘Hello, Patrick. Thanks for having us.’

  ‘Any time! Sure you’re long overdue a holiday!’ Uncle Paddy grinned around and waved them into the house. ‘We’ll do the greetings inside. Get in out of the cold. Hello you pair!’ He petted Sam and Morty’s heads, took Chloe’s luggage and ushered them all towards the door. Nathanial took Elise’s case and Aron made an awkward movement towards Auntie Jo, who smirked and said, ‘I can manage, thanks.’

  Adam slipped through the door into a long, warm kitchen. Luggage was dropped on the kitchen table and various chairs. ‘The boys can take your bags upstairs in a minute,’ Uncle Paddy said, rubbing his hands together.

  Auntie Jo looked round. ‘It’s still summer, you know. Did nobody tell the weather here?’

  ‘The weather here makes its own rules.’ They turned and saw Aunt Orla smiling at them from a doorway, drying her hands on a tea towel. ‘Don’t worry, it’s just a storm. It’ll pass and by tomorrow you’ll think you’re in heaven.’ She turned back and bellowed into the hall. ‘Would yis ever hurry up? Our guests are here!’

  There was a flurry of movement and the thunder of footsteps on the stairs. A moment later six people burst into the kitchen – a small boy, four girls ranging in age from tiny to teenage and finally Ciaron, their real reason for bein
g here. He was smiling but his eyes locked on Chloe and his cheeks flushed. Chloe’s flushed in sympathy.

  ‘It’s been far too long since we had you all here.’ Aunt Orla beamed at them. ‘The boys are that tall! It’s as well we’ve plenty of food in.’

  Finally there was the inevitable round of hugs, handshakes and kisses. The air buzzed with laughter and voices and Adam felt himself relax. He loved coming to Ireland. His mother was so formal when they had visitors but Aunt Orla was laid-back to the point of being horizontal. As a hostess, she provided a bed, a good fire, a hearty meal and as much tea and whiskey as you could drink. Other than that, you were free to get on with things and entertain yourself. He grinned at his ‘cousins’ and felt a fleeting pang, wishing that Melissa was there. She would love it. But Melissa would never get to be there. It was a fantasy.

  He’d managed to burst his own bubble and deflate.

  Uncle Paddy was looking round the kitchen and frowning. ‘Where’s Caitlyn?’

  Ciaron shrugged. ‘She said she was going to feed the dogs.’ Uncle Paddy bred Irish wolfhounds. Some were sold as pets and breeding dogs but the best were reserved as working dogs for the Luman world. He always said he didn’t want any show winners bringing people to his door.

  Uncle Paddy’s frown deepened. ‘She should have been here.’

  ‘Leave her alone, Patrick,’ Orla said easily. ‘She’ll be in better form when she’s been outside for a while.’

  Auntie Jo grinned. ‘Is Caitlyn still a wild thing?’

  Ciaron grinned. ‘Mum used to say she was a changeling and that the fairies had left her.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of spirit in a girl,’ Aunt Orla said.

  ‘Never did me any harm,’ Auntie Jo said while Elise nodded and made a poor effort to agree.

  ‘Do you want the dogs over in the barn, Patrick?’ Nathanial winced as he watched Sam and Morty frolicking round the kitchen, loving the noise and bustle and hunting for food.

  ‘I’ll take them,’ Adam said quickly. He liked seeing all the other wolfhounds.

  ‘Do you remember where the barn is?’ At Adam’s nod Uncle Paddy smiled. ‘Good man. You can put them in the pen at the far end, beside the other Luman dogs. Caitlyn’ll show you.’ His smile faded. ‘And tell her to get herself back over here when she’s finished.’

  Adam nodded again and clicked his tongue at the dogs. They followed him as he flung open the door, braced himself and stepped back outside. The ‘barn’ was at the end of a small field. Away from the shelter of the house the force of the wind took Adam by surprise. Yesterday in London he’d been lying in the park in a T-shirt but here it was a different world. What had Aunt Orla said? The weather here makes its own rules. He turned and squinted back at the Atlantic, watching it rage against the rocks, eyes tearing in the wind. It was like living beside a moody weather god.

  The dogs barked as the gale hit them, then bounded joyfully across the grass. Adam bent against the wind and jogged over to the double doors. They were closed but not bolted and he could see the gleam of light inside. As he opened them a thunder of barking rose up from the pens and seconds later Adam heard a ferocious growl. A huge wolfhound was standing in front of him, so big it made Sam and Morty look like whippets. It was easily the size of a pony. It stood eyeing him and the growl faded but it didn’t make any friendly signs.

  ‘Caitlyn?’ Adam called. He wasn’t scared – the wolfhound was a Luman dog and it would never attack a Luman. Even so, it was disconcerting facing something big enough to eat you.

  ‘Och, get out of it, Storm.’ The dog turned towards the voice, transforming into a welcome party as a black-haired girl appeared from one side. ‘How are you, Adam?’

  ‘Caitlyn?’ Adam was stammering which was ridiculous because he’d known Caitlyn forever – only in the six months since he’d last seen her something had happened. She’d turned into a rock star.

  She raised an eyebrow over a piercing green eye. ‘Who do you think it is? I suppose Da sent you to get me.’

  ‘Well, I brought the dogs over.’ In the face of another raised eyebrow Adam felt his cheeks flush. ‘But they’re out in the field.’

  Caitlyn walked past him and peered out of the door. ‘Running mad, more like.’ She put two fingers to her lips and gave a long whistle, the pitch rising and falling. The dogs stopped as though a lightning bolt had hit them, then bounded towards the barn. They leapt up at Caitlyn but she pushed them down and gave a sharp command in Gaelic. ‘Suígí!’ The dogs sat immediately and gazed up at her adoringly. At last she petted them. ‘You two are spoiled, so you are.’

  ‘They’re not!’ Adam protested – then saw a mental image of Sam and Morty sprawled on the floor in the den in front of the fire. ‘Well, maybe they are a bit. But it hasn’t done them any harm.’

  Caitlyn shrugged. ‘They’ll be all right unless they have to do a lot of jobs. That’s when you’ll notice it. Not wanting to get out of their beds in the night.’

  There was an awkward pause while Adam tried to think what to say. ‘So how are you?’

  ‘I’m grand. And you?’

  ‘Yeah, good.’ Adam hesitated. ‘You seem … different. Since the ball.’ The last time he’d seen Caitlyn had been at Aron’s Marking ball back in March. Back then she’d been like all the other Luman girls – beautifully dressed and draped in jewellery. Something had happened, changing her; giving her this air of wildness. Maybe it was just being here. Adam could feel it, that untamed energy in the air. It made him want to sing. It made him want to jump off a cliff and fly.

  Caitlyn’s lip curled. ‘Yeah, the ball. It was all right but I just looked around and realised I was like one of the pups. Waiting to be picked to go to a good home. And I realised I don’t want to be picked. I want to do the picking but only when I’m good and ready. I suppose I got tired of being a good wee Luman girl.’

  Adam nodded. ‘I can understand that.’

  ‘Oh, you can, can you?’ Caitlyn smiled, softening her words, looking more like the old Caitlyn. ‘And since when are you such an expert on girls?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘I’m not really.’

  ‘Tell us something we don’t know,’ a familiar voice drawled behind Adam. He groaned inwardly and turned to find Luc giving Caitlyn one of his trademark thousand-watt smiles. ‘How are you, “cous”?’

  Caitlyn seemed totally unimpressed. ‘Oh look, it’s God’s gift, come to join us mere mortals here on earth.’

  ‘Kind of you to say so. Your father sent me to get you. He seemed to think Adam might have trouble getting you back to the house.’

  Adam scowled. ‘We were just talking.’

  ‘Yeah, we were,’ Caitlyn said. ‘But, you know, three’s a crowd and all that. I better go and face the music. Sam and Morty are in the pen down at the end. It’s good to see you, Adam.’ She smiled at him and walked out of the barn.

  ‘What about me?’ Luc protested.

  In response, Caitlyn tossed a few words of Gaelic over her shoulder. Storm, the giant wolfhound, stalked over to Luc and jumped up, putting his paws on Luc’s shoulders and knocking him to the ground. Luc stared up wide-eyed from the stone floor as the huge dog bent his head and licked Luc’s face from chin to forehead. Caitlyn clicked her tongue and the wolfhound bounded off after her. They could hear her laughing even over the roar of the storm.

  Luc wiped his face disgustedly. ‘What the fuck was that? Some kind of werewolf? It’s the size of a horse!’

  Adam grinned and took the dogs to their pen.

  It was a nice evening in spite of the awful weather. Auntie Orla had made a huge stew and cauliflower cheese. They all ate together, squeezed around the large kitchen table. The din was incredible as seven Mortsons and nine McVeys talked and laughed. A very flushed Chloe was sitting beside an equally flushed Ciaron. They alternated between joining in with the general hubbub and talking quietly to one another.

  After dinner they headed up to the drawing room. Enormous windows r
an from the ceiling to floor, looking out across the gardens onto the sea. Uncle Paddy lit the fire as dusk fell and Auntie Orla drew the curtains against the thrashing sea. ‘Don’t worry. The forecast is good for tomorrow. This’ll blow itself out overnight. You won’t know the place in the morning.’

  Privately Adam had his doubts that the forecasters knew anything about the mad weather here but he was happy to just go with the flow. He sat back and listened to his cousins chatting and laughing. Only Caitlyn stayed quiet. Adam didn’t know what Uncle Paddy had said on her return to the house but whatever it was it hadn’t improved her mood. She had been silent and sulky all through dinner and now she seemed happy lurking in a corner of the room behind a magazine. It was only at bedtime that she slipped over beside Adam. ‘I’m going to walk the dogs on the beach tomorrow. I’ll be up early. If you want to come, meet me at the back door at seven.’

  Adam nodded. He wondered if it would be a quiet night. Uncle Paddy and Ciaron had taken it in turns to do the handful of jobs that had come in – mainly fallen trees and tiles landing on unsuspecting drivers and pedestrians. Nathanial had volunteered to help but Uncle Paddy had gallantly declined his offer. ‘Take a night off, will you man!’

  Adam was crammed into a tiny room with his brothers and two sets of bunk beds. He didn’t even bother protesting but took the bottom bunk while his brothers climbed into the top bunks. Aron was asleep in seconds while Luc lay playing a game on his phone, pausing now and again to message people.

  It was weird sharing a room when he was used to having his own space. Still, Adam thought, it would be good practice for Japan – assuming he was allowed to go. Please, please let me go, he thought fervently. Once they were back home he would start begging in earnest. What would it be like, sharing with his friends? Dan would demand the top bunk and lie dropping peanut shells on whoever had the misfortune to be below. Spike and Archie would both be on their laptops, although probably looking at very different things …