by Mark Robson
‘Amazing!’ he said.
‘Cool ride, eh?’ Callum enthused, appearing to Sam’s left. ‘Did you do what Brad said and watch channel three?’
‘Yep. It was like a three-hour-long 3D Disney ride!’ Sam looked past him to where Nipper and Grunt were emerging from their alcoves. ‘Talking of Brad, where is he?’ he added.
‘In his alcove, I assume,’ Callum replied, surprised. He took a few steps forward and looked into the older man’s alcove. It was empty. ‘No. He’s not here,’ he reported.
Nipper sniffed the air and growled. The boys did not need to understand raptor language to sense the ominous nature of that sound.
‘Sssssam, C’umm, sta,’ he hissed, pointing at the floor in front of them. A rapid exchange of clicking and growling between Grunt and Nipper concluded with Nipper disappearing along the central aisle towards the back of the train. Grunt moved in close to the boys and parked himself between them and the central aisle.
‘Something’s up,’ Sam muttered.
‘Yeah, I got that too,’ Callum mumbled back. ‘I hope Brad’s OK.’
About a minute later, Nipper returned. There was another rapid exchange between the two raptors. It seemed to involve more growling than the usual predominance of clicks. Grunt moved aside and Nipper looked at the two boys with his big yellow eyes.
‘B’ad dud,’ he said.
Sam looked across at Callum. His face hung slack and the colour was draining from his complexion. He looked back at Nipper.
‘No! I must have heard that wrong.’ Sam gasped. ‘Did you just say Brad’s dead?’
Nipper nodded. It was hard to read the raptor’s expression, but Sam could see the anger in his stance. Did the creature feel any regret or sadness? He couldn’t tell.
‘How?’ Callum asked, his tone flat and lifeless. ‘Why?’
Nipper made slashing motions with his claws. Sam and Callum winced simultaneously. No words were needed to help the boys with an interpretation.
‘It was a raptor?’ Sam asked.
Nipper nodded again. ‘Bad sssorrrrt,’ he said, growling the ‘r’ sound. ‘Come.’
At first, the boys thought Nipper was going to lead them to Brad’s body, but he stopped next to the exit doors. Other raptors were emerging from their alcoves and converging on the same area. Nipper directed the boys into a corner near the doors and then he and Grunt hemmed them there, facing out at the other raptors and growling protectively.
‘Poor Leah!’ Callum muttered. ‘Shouldn’t we do something about Brad’s body?’
‘I don’t think that’s an option,’ Sam replied, peering nervously round the raptors. ‘Nipper and Grunt look pretty focused on protecting us. I think we’d better just worry about getting out of here alive.’
‘But we can’t just leave him, can we? What if he’s not really dead? He might just be badly . . .’
‘Dud!’ Nipper interrupted emphatically.
Sam did not reply. Brad had been so enthusiastic about bringing them to the Imperium to search for Sam’s mother. He had known how dangerous the journey would be, Sam was sure of it. Leah had known too. Although she had not said as much in front of them, Sam had seen the way she had looked at Brad before they left. Had she known it would be the last time she would see him?
Tears began to track down his cheeks as he stared at Nipper’s back. He felt so guilty. This was his fault. If they hadn’t come looking for his mum, it would never have happened. They had not been gone half a day and one of their only friends in this world was dead. It did not seem real. Sam looked across at Callum. He had put his friend in danger too. Saying something was dangerous and experiencing the deadly outcome were two entirely different things. It was bad enough knowing he was responsible for Brad’s death. How would he feel if Callum became the next victim?
He noted the tears in Callum’s eyes. He could find no more words to share at this moment.
Most of the other raptors ignored the two boys and their bodyguards. They waited patiently for the train to stop and the doors to open. It was at the moment the doors slid open that Sam noticed a particularly large raptor steal a glance in their direction. It was only for the briefest moment, but afterwards Sam felt sure he had not imagined it.
He played the moment over and over in his mind. The enormous creature’s eyes had slid across to their corner and Sam had shivered as he contemplated the cold malice that lurked behind the raptor’s gaze. He watched as the doors opened and all the other raptors disembarked. The one that had caught Sam’s eye was nearly the last to leave. He looked it up and down, noting the scars on its upper body and a line of puncture scars across its thighs. When it left, it prowled away with a loping gait and did not look back.
Nipper and Grunt kept them in the corner until the doors were totally clear before leading them off the train.
‘Come,’ Nipper ordered again.
The boys followed. What choice did they have? It was good that Nipper could speak a few recognisable words of English, but without their translator Sam suddenly felt more lost than ever.
‘Did you see that big raptor?’ Sam asked Callum in a low voice.
‘Which one? They’re all big.’
‘Not to worry,’ Sam said. ‘I’m probably imagining things.’
Inside, he knew he wasn’t.
The station in the city was larger than either of the two Sam had seen on their way there, but despite its size, it did not seem as busy as the others. The enormous holographic news screen seemed to be a standard feature. A difference in this station was the presence of several smaller monorail structures with lines of single cars that looked as if they would hold about six raptors at a time. As these filled and moved off out from the station along several different rails, others arrived to take their place. Seeing the vehicles coming and going reminded Sam of a taxi rank and it was to one of these that Nipper led them.
They joined a short queue that melted away in front of them with impressive efficiency. Then it was their turn. Nipper opened the side door to one of the monocars and ushered the boys inside. Grunt turned and barred entry to other raptors before climbing in last and closing the door behind them. As soon as the door was closed, a holographic image of the city was projected into the centre of the cabin and Nipper reached into the middle of it to touch a tiny icon with the tip of his claw. The holograph vanished and they were off.
The acceleration of the car as it pulled away was a shock. Sam rocked back in his seat and thumped the back of his head into the solid backrest so hard that he saw stars.
‘Oww!’ Callum echoed as his head made a similarly resounding impact. As the car raced out of the station along its monorail at terrifying speed, they emerged into motoring madness. ‘Holy crap!’ he swore, his whirl of emotions at the loss of Brad momentarily forgotten and fear taking their place. ‘It’s like a grand prix, but with half of the drivers going the wrong way!’
Rails converged, merged and split in a mind-twisting, spaghetti-like mass of lines, and their monocar automatically accelerated and decelerated, apparently jostling for position among the masses of other speeding cars in a mad dash for their destination.
‘Makes the M25 look like a peaceful country road at midnight by comparison,’ Sam gasped, wincing as they cut across the path of an oncoming vehicle. There did not appear to be any rhyme, reason or rules as to which way the cars were going.
‘Oh, God! It’s our turn to die!’ Callum moaned, putting his hands over his glasses and then peeping between his fingers.
The two raptors began making rapid clicking noises.
‘Are you laughing at us?’ Sam accused, anger flaring inside him like an exploding star.
Nipper nodded, flashing his teeth at Sam in a gesture that he interpreted as amusement.
‘Someone needs to introduce the designers of this crazy system to the idea of health and safety,’ Callum grumbled, gasping again as another car flashed past so close that the cab was rocked by its passage. ‘You could have a hear
t attack in one of these things.’
If Sam had been able to let go of his handholds for so much as a second, he would have thrown something at the raptors. He was so angry that even Callum’s attempt at humour glanced off him. Later, Sam realised that his mind had instinctively converted his panic into anger, perhaps in some kind of defence mechanism. Whatever the reason, his rage was irrational and dangerous; the raptors could kill him or Callum in an instant. Luckily, the journey was short.
Soon the car speared off on a branch rail that took them straight towards the sidewall of the great transport corridor. When it sped through another of the heart-stopping doors that didn’t open until the last second, Sam came close to vomiting.
The car came to an abrupt halt seconds later and he found he was physically shaking as Nipper opened the door and stepped outside, turning to gesture for the boys to follow.
‘Quick!’ Callum urged, grabbing Sam by the hand and pulling him out through the open door. ‘Before it decides to mash us into a pulp against a wall or another car.’
Sam’s legs felt weak as he staggered from the car. Nipper and Grunt again clicked with amusement. Sam wanted to hit them with something – anything – hard. Barely fifteen minutes had passed since the discovery of Brad’s body and the two raptors were laughing as if he had never existed. Keeping his fury under check was not easy. Had they felt nothing for him? When Sam had first seen the creatures talk to Brad, there had appeared to be mutual respect between them. Could raptors feel the pain of losing someone, or were they so insensitive to death that they could ignore it as an everyday event?
‘Cold-hearted, overgrown geckos!’ Sam muttered through gritted teeth.
‘What?’ Callum asked.
‘Nothing.’
The two boys followed the raptors up some steps and through another of the scary sliding doors. Inside was what appeared to be a reception area with a large central desk. A raptor in a white coat was standing behind it. He clicked a welcome to Nipper and Grunt, while eyeing the two boys with a cold gaze. Sam could see the raptor’s nostrils twitching as he and Callum approached. It looked as though the creature was testing their scent. After a moment, the raptor looked directly at Sam and his eyes narrowed.
‘He’s looking at you,’ Callum observed in a low voice.
‘Yeah,’ Sam said, a sudden chill cutting through the heat of his anger and shooting down his spine. ‘And I don’t like the way he’s doing it.’
White Jacket suddenly broke eye contact with Sam, turned his head to the right and let out an ear-splitting roar. To Sam’s surprise, both Nipper and Grunt began clicking and growling at once. It looked as if they were both gabbling at White Jacket simultaneously, but why?
‘Call me a pessimist, but I’d say that doesn’t look good,’ Sam muttered.
‘You a mind-reader now?’
From corridors to either side of the reception desk a stream of raptors appeared, all wearing white coats. Within seconds, they were surrounded.
‘What is this place?’ Sam asked aloud as a raptor grabbed his arm in a grip of iron. ‘Nipper! What’s going on?’
Nipper turned and looked at him. Although it was hard to read expressions on the raptor’s face, Sam was convinced he could see a look of hopeless resignation in Nipper’s eyes.
‘Sssssam . . . sssssorrrrreeee.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
‘Don’t be silly, Tess!’ Tony scoffed. ‘Why would I go an’ do somethin’ stupid like that? Get real! She’s a fugitive, for goodness’ sake!’
‘You tellin’ me she ain’t here then?’
Although her muscles were screaming at her in silent protest, Niamh couldn’t lie on the bed. She could just about hear what was being said, but if they lowered their voices even slightly she would start missing things and she had to know what was happening. Forcing herself back onto her feet, Niamh crept back to the door of Carrie’s room and, turning the handle with painful care, she cracked it open. The door opened the wrong way for her to be able to peep down the corridor towards the living area, but she held her breath to listen.
‘Ain’t no one here but me an’ Carrie right now,’ Tony was saying. ‘Ain’t that right, sis?’
Carrie strolled across the living area towards them.
‘What’s that, Tony?’ she asked ‘Hi, Tessa. Nice top,’ she added, eyeing the bright, low-cut top appreciatively.
‘Just us in at the moment,’ he repeated.
‘Yeah,’ Carrie drawled. ‘Mom’s gone to Key West shoppin’, an’ Dad’s at work. Why? Did you need to talk to ’em, Tessa?’
Tessa looked at Carrie with narrowed eyes as she searched for any hint of a lie, but Carrie was not giving anything away. She met Tessa’s gaze and then slowly drew her brows together into a frown as the girl stared her out.
‘What’s with the look?’ she asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘She thinks I’ve brought Niamh here,’ Tony explained.
‘What?’ Carrie asked, feigning shock. ‘Didn’t you see the Citizen this mornin’? Tony showed me the story earlier. Yeah, she seemed nice enough yesterday. An’ I thought she was just messin’ with us when she said about her dad and stealin’ the boat ’n’ everythin’, but the paper confirms she was actually tellin’ the truth. God, I feel such a fool!’
‘Who do you think told Tony about it?’ Tessa asked smugly.
‘Really?’ Carrie asked, giving a convincing performance of being surprised.
‘Yeah,’ Tony confirmed. ‘Forgot to mention that, sorry.’
‘Well, after I saw Tony this mornin’, I called the cops an’ told ’em where she is,’ Tessa bragged. ‘She won’t be on Monkey Island for much longer.’
Carrie sucked in a sharp intake of breath. ‘You didn’t give your name, did you? Or ours?’ she asked.
‘Nah!’ Tessa said, sticking her hands deep in her pockets. She looked so irritatingly smug that Carrie itched to smack her round the face. ‘I’m not stupid, Carrie. I rang and gave an anonymous tip-off. Didn’t want to admit to trespass. Still, we’d better not go fishin’ over there for a few days until the heat is off the place.’
‘Hmm! Sounds sensible,’ Tony agreed. ‘So what do you wanna do today instead?’
‘Dunno.’
‘I thought about catchin’ a bus into Key West and takin’ a wander down Duval Street. You wanna come?’
‘Sounds cool,’ Tessa agreed, looking up at him from under her long lashes. ‘Laughin’ at the tourists is better than nothin’. How about you, Carrie? Gonna join us?’
The offer sounded more of a challenge than an invitation, but Carrie ignored the tone and kept her response friendly.
‘Nah!’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Thanks, but I’ve got to make a start on my summer homework project today. Sandy Perretti’s comin’ round in a bit. We’ve arranged to kick each other into doin’ some work.’
‘Already?’ Tessa said, her voice conveying both disgust and horror. ‘But there’s weeks of holiday left yet.’
‘Yeah, but unlike you, I don’t leave stuff to the last second,’ Carrie said. ‘Average grades ain’t gonna be good enough for me to get into the college I want.’
‘Whatever you say, Carrie,’ Tessa said, shaking her head with apparent disdain. ‘Tony, let’s go.’
‘Sure thing, see you later, sis.’ Tony looked back at Carrie as he followed Tessa out of the front door. He gave her a small wink.
‘Later, Carrie,’ called Tessa.
Niamh sighed with relief as she heard the front door close. She stepped lightly back across to the bed and flopped onto it just as Carrie came back into the room.
‘You hear all that?’
‘Yes,’ Niamh confirmed. ‘Thanks again for covering for me.’
‘No problem. Tessa might be pretty, but she’s an idiot,’ Carrie said. ‘If her mum and dad weren’t such big pals with ours, Tony and I wouldn’t hang out with her at all.’
‘Really? I thought Tony and Tessa might be . . . you know . . . an
item.’
Carrie instantly burst out laughing. ‘In her dreams!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t worry. Tony’s got more sense than that, Niamh,’ she added, lowering her voice to prevent her brother overhearing. ‘He’s only taking her into town to protect you. Believe me, he’s got no interest in her. He’s very selective about who he goes out with. I could learn a thing or two from him, but I just keep making the same mistakes over and over. Typical blonde, you could say.’
‘Don’t talk yourself down, Carrie,’ Niamh said. ‘You’re better than that.’ She paused. ‘Carrie?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I can’t help wondering . . . why are you helping me like this? When I think of the trouble you could get into . . .’
‘Well, don’t,’ Carrie said. She lowered her voice to little more than a whisper and glanced back at the door. ‘Truth is, Tony was pretty taken with you yesterday. Unlike me, he’s always been a good judge of character. I look out for him, he looks out for me. We banter a lot, but we’re close – you understand? If he likes you, you’re OK by me. Now, would you prefer a shower or a bath?’
‘Bath, please,’ Niamh said, trying to hide her flushed reaction to Carrie’s bombshell. Tony liked her! He really liked her! It was like a dream come true. She couldn’t wait to text Beth and tell her about him. There would be about a million questions of course . . .
Three-quarters of an hour later, having soaked, washed and dressed in a fresh set of Carrie’s clothes, Niamh felt worlds better. Her hands were still sore and the blisters had filled out fit to burst, but the aching in her muscles had dulled to little more than a niggling irritation.
‘If only I could clear my mind so easily,’ she murmured under her breath as Carrie led her through to the kitchen where she had laid out breakfast.
What should she do now? The article in the Key West Citizen had said her dad was being flown back to England today to be handed over to the British authorities. There didn’t seem to be anything she could do about that. The Mitchells’ boat was effectively lost, but Niamh was sure the boys were on land somewhere, so it was not a great loss. Her transport situation seemed limited to hitching a lift in a kayak or using public transport, which was dangerous at best. Worse – now she had an added complication. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Carrie had said about Tony being ‘taken with her’.
