by Mark Robson
The Mitchells’ boat was a beauty. It was slightly bigger than her dad’s and it boasted a proper cabin below the deck, complete with a bed, a tiny fridge and some storage space. The name emblazoned along the stern read Aloan Again. She smiled. It was very in keeping with Mitch’s sense of humour.
‘Hop on in,’ he said, extending a hand to help her down.
Niamh did as she was told and watched intently as Mitch went round the boat, checking the engines, the cupboards, the fenders and the stowage bins. He worked methodically, appearing to check that every last thing was where it should be. It must be his military training, she thought. Dad never checked half the things that Mitch is looking at.
Her chance came sooner than she expected. Mitch started the twin engines, switched on the radio, did a couple of further checks and then leapt up onto the bank, leaving the boat running at idle.
‘Back in a sec,’ he said. ‘Just goin’ to get our lunch from Moira and we’ll head on out.’
‘No problem!’ Niamh replied, heart pounding hard again. Could she do this? Was there enough time?
She stood up and watched Mitch cross the patio to the door. As he entered, she leapt up on the bank and ran to the front mooring rope. It was looped loosely over the concrete mooring post. She unhooked it, threw the rope onto the front of the boat and ran to the one at the stern. This one was similarly secured.
‘Hey! What are you doin’, Niamh?’ Mitch called from the doorway. ‘Don’t release the ropes, honey!’
Even at idle, the boat was pulling against the final mooring rope. Niamh hauled on the rope, pulling the boat back to gain the slack she needed and then, carrying the end of the rope with her, she leapt down into the boat.
‘NIAMH!’
Mitch’s voice had turned angry now as he realised that she knew exactly what she was doing. She grabbed the wheel with her right hand and the throttle with her left. A single glance was enough to realise that Mitch was sprinting towards her, face like thunder. There was no decision left to make. She was committed.
‘NO, NIAMH, DON’T!’
He was too late. Niamh pushed the throttle straight to half open and turned the wheel to the right. The boat responded instantly, surging away from the mooring with a guttural roar of power. Having pulled far enough from the bank to ensure there was no way Mitch could jump aboard, Niamh cut the throttle to idle again and looked over her shoulder to where he had skidded to a halt at the water’s edge.
‘Sorry, Mr Mitchell,’ she called. ‘I need to borrow your boat for a while. I haven’t got time to stop and explain, but I’ll bring it back as soon as I can, I promise.’
‘Don’t be a fool, Niamh,’ he shouted back, clearly trying hard to control his anger. ‘This is stealin’. Think what you’re doin’. You don’t want to be gettin’ lost like your brother. Don’t make me call the Sheriff’s Office. Get back over here and we’ll go out lookin’ for the boys together like I promised.’
‘It’s not that easy, sir,’ she replied. ‘There have been . . . complications. Sorry, but I’ve got to go now. Please don’t think too badly of me.’
Turning away, she pushed the throttle forward as far as she dared. The engine roared, the prow rising as the boat surged forward. There was no time to worry about speed limits. She wanted to get as far from Summerland Key as she could before the police returned. Niamh had never driven a boat before, though she had seen her father and brother do it on lots of occasions. It did not seem hard.
Moira added her voice to Mitch’s, but Niamh closed her mind to both of them and concentrated instead on the waterway ahead. She could see the end of the canal and the open water beyond. She had never really paid much attention to what the boys had been doing when she had gone out with them on her dad’s boat. Where should she look first? Where could she go that the police would not find her?
As she sped from the canal into the shallow open water beyond, the realisation of what she had done began to sink in. A cold shiver ran down her spine. She had stolen a boat – and not just some little rowing boat, but an expensive cabin cruiser! There was no escaping the scale of it. Stealing something like this was a serious crime.
Niamh was awash with feelings of guilt, yet she was also inexplicably excited. She had stolen the Mitchells’ boat! The more times she said it to herself, the less real it seemed. She tried to imagine what Beth would say when she heard.
‘I haven’t stolen the boat,’ she corrected herself aloud. ‘I’ve just borrowed it. I’ll take it back just as soon as I find the boys.’
She closed her eyes and tried to picture her brother. It was not as easy as it had been before he and Callum had disappeared. Although she still felt the gaping hole inside her where a part of her brother had apparently resided, the vague wisp of him still haunted the darkness. It was not much, but Niamh felt sure Sam was still alive. Could she use that wisp like a compass to find him? She didn’t see how, but given time she might be able to figure it out.
Time. It was all about having enough time. How much did she have? It was hard to tell. The search effort for the boys would be increased this morning. Now it would be extended to include her. Had she done the right thing by running? If she had gone with the police, she could have explained how going out on the boat had been the boys’ idea and nothing to do with her father. Maybe they would have released him and they could have continued the search together. But her dad had said he’d been out flying in the seaplane with Geoff that morning, so he would be able to provide a credible alibi and clear his name easily without her help. Had running made things worse? Perhaps she should turn back now and apologise to Mitch . . .
Explaining. Apologising. The police. All would eat precious time. No. Her mind was made up. She would follow her instinct and try to use the faint link she could feel with her brother. She might be Sam’s only hope. Opening the throttle even more, Niamh turned the boat in a gentle arc until she was driving directly out to sea.
There was no time for regrets now. Her focus had to be on finding the boys. If she could do that, then everything could return to normal. They were out there somewhere. She was certain of that much. Narrowing her eyes against the spray, Niamh set her mind to the task ahead.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘Damn it!’ Sam exclaimed, as he clambered over the remains of his father’s boat. ‘What the hell are we going to do now?’
‘Well, I’m not going to try to swim out into the ocean, that’s for sure,’ Callum said, throwing another nervous glance at the approaching tide.
‘I think it’s safe to say that’s not an option,’ Sam agreed, thinking hard. He scratched at his chin for a moment. ‘Dad will have everyone looking for us by now, but unless they stumble through into this world the same way we did, then there’s no way they’re going to find us. I think it’s going to be down to us to get back.’
‘Leah and Brad said that the raptors were technologically advanced,’ Callum recalled. ‘Maybe they’ve got their own type of boats as well. It’s got to be worth asking.’
‘You’re right,’ Sam said, brightening slightly. ‘And if they won’t take us out in one, or let us go alone, then we’ll just have to work out a way of stealing one.’
Callum nodded and looked up at him with a serious expression. ‘Yeah, we’ll find a way home somehow. We have to. My dad’s booked me a quad-biking day for just after we’re due back in England. I’m not going to miss that!’
Sam smiled. His friend was irrepressible. ‘Perish the thought!’ he said. ‘Come on. I think we’d better head back. Oh, by the way I did find one thing. Here, catch!’ He tossed his one find down to his friend. It was the conch shell Callum had bought for his mother.
‘Thanks! Not sure what I’m going to do with this now.’
‘Keep it,’ Sam said. ‘You can give it to your mum before you go quad biking.’
Sam jumped back down from the stern and let out a heavy sigh.
‘Don’t worry, mate,’ Callum said, patting Sam on the shoulder. ‘
If there’s a way back, we’ll find it. Brad and Leah will help. Come on. Let’s go and tell them what we found. Maybe they’ll be able to tell us where we can find another boat, or at least who has stripped this one so thoroughly and why.’
Sam nodded, but didn’t answer.
The two boys trudged through the soft sand as they made their way around the headland. Sam was aware of Callum’s vigilance at watching the sea for signs of the eel-like monsters. He appeared paranoid that they were lurking in the surf and watching for a chance to strike again. Sam stared at the sand in front of his feet, lost in thought. Everything about this place felt wrong.
Questions whirled through his mind. Why had they crossed between worlds and how? Was it possible to go back or were they stuck here forever? Brad and Leah seemed content to live under the protection of Nipper and his friends, but why? Why weren’t they trying to get home? They said others lived here too, but where? How big was this so-called ‘Reserve’ and what was the world like beyond its borders?
A sudden trumpeting cry cut through his thoughts and he froze. Both boys turned as one to focus on the nearby trees. Whatever was making the noise sounded close. There was a brief pause and then something began to move. Sam was immediately reminded of the previous evening. Thump, thump, thump. The earth-shaking footsteps were accompanied by the sounds of cracking wood and the swish of branches being brushed aside and released. Whatever it was, the creature was coming towards them.
Sam’s ankle was still sore from twisting it during his flight from the sea creature earlier. He did not fancy running on it again, but he gritted his teeth in readiness. Thump, thump, thump. It was getting closer. Suddenly, a familiar roar sounded from among the nearby trees, causing Sam’s heart to leap in his chest. It was Nipper or one of his kind. The approaching creature’s gargantuan footsteps faltered. It trumpeted again. This time the sound was one of confusion.
‘Look! There!’ Callum said, pointing.
Sam looked and could just make out the head of the enormous creature between the trees. It looked bigger than a fully-grown elephant but it had the same grey-coloured skin. Rather than a trunk, however, the elongated face sported a single large horn protruding from the top of its nose. A crescent of five further horns sprouted from what looked to be a wide collar of bone that reinforced the creature’s skull.
‘It looks like a fancy sort of triceratops,’ Sam whispered. ‘But it’s huge! Bigger than any animal I’ve ever seen. Look. There are raptors moving through the trees too.’
Although they were much closer, the raptors were far harder to see among the trees and undergrowth.
‘They look almost human!’ Callum exclaimed softly as he got a better look at one. ‘Are they hunting it?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘But they don’t have any weapons,’ he protested.
‘They are weapons,’ Sam said softly. ‘Look at the fear and confusion in that monster’s eyes. It knows they’re there. It knows to be afraid. They’re spreading out. Look at them go!’
Sam and Callum watched with horrified fascination as three raptors sprang into motion, executing a simultaneous attack from multiple directions. The larger creature reared, trumpeting in alarm as it sensed them closing in. It tried to pivot on its back feet and turn, but its legs and horns tangled in the branches of the trees around it. Before it could use its weight to tear itself free, the raptors struck.
Sam felt a cold chill run through him as he witnessed the devastating tactics of the comparatively tiny raptors. Two struck the creature’s hind legs, using their razor-sharp centre claws to slice through its thick skin and sever its hamstrings. The third zipped underneath the beast and leapt up high into the air to plunge the point of its right centre claw into the grey belly. Using momentum and muscle in a single mighty heave, this third raptor tore an enormous hole in the beast’s belly.
‘Holy crap!’ Callum breathed. ‘Did you see how high that thing jumped?’
The mortally injured beast let out a piteous scream of pain and crumpled, crashing to earth amid the crack-crunch-snap of breaking branches. By the time it hit the ground the raptors were long gone.
Sam became aware that his jaw had dropped. ‘Now that’s what you call hit-and-run tactics!’ he muttered.
A raptor appeared, exploding out from between the trees and racing up towards the two boys. Callum flinched, but there was no time to run. The raptor moved far too quickly. Although Sam could not be certain, he sensed this was the same raptor that had rescued him the previous evening. Brad had called it Nipper. Would it understand that name if Sam used it?
The raptor stopped a few short paces away from the two boys.
‘Ack,’ it said, the vowel sounding forced. It pointed along the beach in the direction of Brad and Leah’s house. ‘Ack!’ it said again.
‘Back?’ Sam asked. ‘Is that what you’re trying to say? We’re going back now.’
Nipper nodded. ‘Ssss! Ack.’ It turned and bounded away into the trees again.
‘Fast!’ Callum breathed. ‘So fast!’
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t want to try to outrun one of those guys,’ Sam agreed. ‘Come on. I think that was Nipper. We’d better do as he suggested.’
Callum needed no further encouragement. The two boys struck out along the beach again. Sam’s legs felt like jelly and the pain in his ankle continued to increase as they went. He found climbing over the rocks at the far end of the beach more difficult than he had on the outbound walk, but he took his time and made it over without incident. Leah was at the top of the beach on the other side. She was carrying a basket. As they approached her, they could see she had been collecting fruit.
‘What happened, Sam?’ she asked. ‘You’re limping.’
‘Just a twisted ankle,’ he replied. ‘Nothing bad.’
‘It did nearly get him eaten though!’ Callum added quickly.
Leah’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Eaten? Unlikely. The raptors have cleared the forests around here of most dangerous animals.’
‘I believe you,’ he said, warming to his story. ‘We saw three of them kill a huge creature in the trees not half an hour ago, but the thing that tried to eat us wasn’t in the trees. It came from the water. You could have warned us! Did you know there’re monsters in the surf, Leah? They look sort of like eels, but much, much bigger. One of ’em decided it fancied more than fish for lunch and chased us up the beach.’
‘Really? Sounds like the creatures we call sea serpents – of course, who knows what they actually are. How many did you see?’
‘Four or five, but only one came out of the water.’
‘Interesting. As far as I know, they’ve not been seen around here for a couple of years now. I’ll make sure to spread the word that everyone should stay out of the water for a couple of days in case they’re hanging around.’
‘You swim here!’ Callum exclaimed. ‘Are you crazy?’
‘Yes, I swim,’ Leah said, giving a shrug of indifference. ‘Quite a few of us do. Why not? There are many animals that could hurt you in the waters off Florida, Callum. Did that stop you swimming there?’
‘No, but that’s different,’ he replied.
‘Really? How so? If I spent my time here worrying about every last thing that could hurt me, I’d never leave the house. What sort of life would that be?’ She paused for a moment. ‘Changing the subject,’ she continued. ‘We should get back to the house. There is someone there who I think you’ll both be interested to meet. Especially you, Sam.’
Sam’s heart skipped a beat. Could they have found his mother? He refrained from asking Leah outright. Something in her voice told him she was looking forward to introducing him in person to the mystery visitor.
The trio entered the narrow path through the trees with Leah leading the way. When they emerged in the clearing and saw the house again, Sam felt relieved to be back. After the excitement on the beach, he wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest his ankle.
‘Brad! The b
oys are back,’ Leah called as she approached the door. Before they reached the threshold, the door opened and Brad looked out, a broad grin on his face.
‘Successful trip, boys?’ he asked.
‘Not really,’ Sam replied. ‘We were nearly eaten by sea serpents before we’d gone more than about half a mile and when we did manage to escape up the beach and find the boat, it had been totally stripped down to the fibreglass hull. Everything had gone . . . and I mean everything! Engines, instrumentation, dashboard, throttle assembly, every last bit of trim, metal, wood . . . everything. If the name had not been painted on the hull, I’d never have believed it was the same boat.’
‘Ah! Yes, perhaps I should have warned you that was likely,’ Brad said, wincing and looking distinctly guilty.
‘You knew!’ Callum accused. ‘You knew and you let us go anyway?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I knew it was likely that the raptors would have stripped the boat, but I thought it was probably better for you to see it for yourselves. What’s this about sea serpents though? I promise I didn’t expect you to be in any danger.’
‘They were shoaling fish into the shallows and then eating them,’ Sam explained. ‘You might want to check on your fisherman friend, just in case.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Callum interrupted. ‘Why would the raptors strip the boat? Have they got their own boats that they want the stuff for?’
‘Well, the raptor scientists like to study everything from our world in minute detail,’ Brad explained. ‘They’re particularly interested in our technology, even the low-tech stuff. But as for the raptors having boats – no, at least not exactly. Raptors hate the water. They’re not swimmers. They do travel the oceans, but the vessels they use are more like nuclear-powered islands than boats.’
‘Not much chance of stealing one of those then,’ Sam muttered, glancing at Callum. ‘How the heck would you drive an island?’
Callum looked confused.
‘Scientists?’ he asked, a note of amazement in his voice. ‘Are we talking about the same creatures?’
