The Devil's Triangle

by Mark Robson

  What did that mean anyway? Did he fancy her or did he just think she was nice in a platonic way? It shouldn’t make any difference, but it did. And this really wasn’t the time to have boy issues!

  Maybe she could she stay here and work out her next steps? But what would Carrie’s parents do if they realised who she was? One way or another the local law enforcement agencies would find their way here eventually. Niamh would be a fool to think the FWC officer, or one of his colleagues, would not piece things together and follow her this far – especially with Tessa around. But how long had she got before they came knocking at the door?

  ‘So what’s the next step?’ Carrie asked, apparently reading her mind.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Niamh admitted. ‘I’ve been acting on instinct so far, but I’m feeling pretty lost right now. Knowing Tony likes me isn’t helping me concentrate either.’

  Carrie smiled. ‘So you like him then?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I do,’ Niamh admitted shyly. ‘But I’ve been going to an all-girls’ school for the last three years, so I don’t really know what to do around boys.’

  ‘You’ve not had any boyfriends?’ Carrie asked, her eyes narrowing as she studied Niamh’s face for any trace of a lie. ‘You seem so confident and outgoing.’

  ‘In some ways, maybe. But aside from my brother, I don’t get to mix with boys very often.’

  ‘Well, you seemed to do pretty well around Tony yesterday,’ Carrie observed. ‘You certainly got his attention. Look, in case I’m wrong about you, I should tell you that Tony’s a good brother and I don’t want you to go messin’ with his feelin’s, OK?’

  ‘I would never do that,’ Niamh replied quickly. ‘But, to be honest, I don’t know what to think about Tony. He seems nice and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate both of you helping me like this. If it helps, I promise I won’t do anything to deliberately hurt him, but I can’t hang around here to spend time with him either.’

  Carrie looked at her for a moment and then nodded. ‘Good enough for me.’

  ‘Putting boy issues aside for a moment . . .’

  ‘As should be done as much as possible,’ Carrie interrupted.

  Niamh smiled. ‘I have no idea what to do next.’

  Carrie thought for a moment. ‘Well, my grandma always used to say that you should focus on the big picture. I can almost hear her voice telling me to do just that. So, what’s your end goal, Niamh?’

  ‘To find Sam and Callum and clear Dad’s name,’ Niamh replied, trying not to think about wanting to get to know Tony better; she had just too much other stuff to contend with. ‘But I don’t really know where to start. My heart tells me that my brother is still alive. I’ve always had a sort of invisible connection to him. And even though it feels different now – sort of thin and distant – the link is still there.’

  ‘Finding your brother and his friend does seem to be the obvious starting point,’ Carrie agreed. ‘So where have you looked so far?’

  ‘Dad flew us up and down the Atlantic side of the Keys when they first disappeared,’ Niamh said. ‘We covered a lot of the obvious search area, but

  ‘But what?’

  Niamh looked Carrie in the eyes. ‘But thinking about it now, I didn’t feel anything when we were up in the air searching for them.’

  ‘What makes you think you would?’

  ‘Like I said, I’ve always had a sort of sixth sense where Sam is concerned,’ Niamh admitted. ‘Playing hide and seek as kids was always a farce. We could never hide effectively from one another. All I needed to do was close my eyes and nine times out of ten I could turn and walk directly to where he was. Now it’s as if something’s scrambling that sixth sense. Every now and then I feel faint flashes of intense emotion from him, but even then it’s so distant that I find myself wondering if my imagination is playing tricks on me.’

  ‘OK, let’s assume for a minute that you’re not imagining things,’ Carrie suggested. ‘If Sam’s not in the Keys any more, where do you think he could be?’

  ‘That’s the problem,’ Niamh said. ‘My imagination begins running riot as soon as I start trying to follow that question through. Mostly I keep getting pulled back to Dad’s ideas about the Bermuda Triangle. When Mum disappeared here nine years ago, he explored all sorts of possibilities.’

  ‘There was something in the newspaper article about your mum going missing. That must have been terrible!’

  ‘Well, Sam and I were only five at the time, so we don’t really remember much about her, but I still miss her,’ Niamh agreed. ‘Dad has never given up trying to find out what happened to her though. We’ve grown up with his obsession about the Devil’s . . . sorry, the Bermuda Triangle, so it’s hard to think outside the sort of theories he’s already explored. Were thge boys kidnapped? Drugged? Abducted by aliens? Taken to Atlantis? For all I know they could be dead and what I’m experiencing is some sort of ghostly mental echo effect from Sam.’ Niamh gave a heavy sigh. ‘Let’s face it, the boys could be anywhere.’

  ‘If that’s how you feel, then why didn’t you just go with the cops when they turned up?’

  Niamh shrugged. ‘I panicked,’ she said. ‘I thought I was the boys’ best hope of being found. Maybe I was wrong.’

  ‘No! Another thing my grandma used to tell me was to trust my gut instinct,’ Carrie said firmly. ‘I would say, go with it.’

  Niamh took a deep breath and told Carrie about her experience in the pool. The emptiness that she had felt at the time did not seem so intense now. Familiarity with the space where something of her brother had dwelt inside her mind was already making the void feel more normal. The realisation of this made a hot flush of anger rise inside her. She had no desire for the emptiness to feel normal. She wanted her brother back.

  ‘The most definite sense of him that I’ve had since then was when I was out on the boat before I decided to go to Monkey Island,’ Niamh explained. ‘I got the distinct impression that Sam was in danger and running away from something, or towards something. I’m not really sure which.’

  ‘Well, if he was runnin’, then he’s not out on the water any more,’ Carrie pointed out. ‘That’s somethin’.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I should be thankful,’ Niamh said thoughtfully. ‘At least I don’t have to try to steal another boat.’

  Carrie laughed, her clear voice ringing around the kitchen area. ‘What?’ she began, waggling a disapproving finger. ‘You mean you don’t regularly go around stealin’ $100,000 boats for fun on a daily basis? Oh, Niamh! You disappoint me.’

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Niamh replied, grinning in spite of the hollow feeling she had inside after reliving the experience of Sam’s disappearance. ‘Much as I hate to shatter my cool criminal image, I’m afraid that’s just not who I am.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I know,’ Carrie assured her. ‘You wouldn’t be here if it was. So you still haven’t answered the big question. What next? Do you want to stay here for a while? I can come up with a story for my mom and dad, if you like.’

  Niamh was tempted, but her instinct had other ideas. If she was going to stay ahead of the police and progress her search for the boys, she was going to have to keep moving.

  ‘Thanks, Carrie. I’d love to, but I can’t,’ she said sadly. ‘I need to keep looking. My intuition is telling me to head back along the Keys towards the mainland. If Sam was at Key West, I’m fairly certain I’d know it. I think I’d better catch a bus and head to Miami. Maybe I’ll be able to sense if I’m getting closer to him by the time I get there.’

  Carrie nodded thoughtfully. Her sparkling blue eyes narrowed. ‘Tony’ll be disappointed,’ she observed with a knowing smile.

  Niamh could feel the colour blossoming hot across her cheeks. ‘Yes, well, my apologies to Tony,’ she said. ‘I’d love to get to know him better and I’ll try to come back after all this is over, but if I can’t, then I’m sure he’ll get over me . . . it . . . whatever.’

  ‘I think that’s what he likes about you.’


  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Your modesty – you’re not like the girls who live around here.’

  Niamh shrugged. ‘I’m just realistic,’ she explained. ‘Girls like me don’t get to go out with guys like Tony.’

  ‘Yeah, right! I suppose you’re all too busy committin’ grand theft and livin’ life on the run,’ Carrie said. ‘Come on. I think there’s one last thing I can do to help you before we get the bus times to Miami.’

  Carrie got to her feet and stepped around the breakfast bar. She held out her hand to Niamh, who cautiously took it and allowed herself to be led back to Carrie’s bedroom.

  ‘Wait here,’ Carrie directed. She left and returned a few seconds later with a hair-colouring kit. ‘It’s Mom’s,’ she explained. ‘I get my blonde hair from Dad. My mom’s hair is much darker, but she tops up the colour every now and then to cover up her grey hairs. Let’s dye your hair and change your style a bit. It should hide you from those who’re not lookin’ too hard.’

  ‘But won’t your mum miss it?’ Niamh asked.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Carrie insisted. ‘I’ll replace it later. She’ll never know.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure . . .’

  ‘Trust me. By the time you leave, you won’t recognise yourself.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘What’s going on?’ Sam yelled, hammering at the door with his fist again. ‘Why are you holding us prisoner? I only came here to find my mother! Is that such a crime?’

  ‘Give it a rest, Sam,’ Callum pleaded. ‘They’re not listening. Or if they are, they’re not interested.’

  ‘OK, Cal,’ Sam replied. He rubbed at the side of his right hand, which was red from pounding the door repeatedly on and off for several hours. ‘But I’m not done yet. I’m sure Nipper didn’t bring us all this way just to get us locked up. He and his friends could have done that when we first beached the boat. I don’t think he expected this any more than we did.’

  Sam crossed the empty cell and sat down next to his friend. He felt as empty as the space they were currently trapped in. All of his hopes and dreams had drained away, leaving only anger and frustration to fill the yawning chasm inside him.

  ‘It’s OK, mate. I understand,’ Callum said, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘It’s not your fault. Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here.’

  Sam gave him a weak smile. Callum’s words sounded brave, but they rang with the same hollowness that pervaded everything else in this place. The door was programmed with a DNA sensor like the one at the station. This room appeared to be a cell specifically designed to hold humans.

  Sam looked around the empty space, studying every line of the wall structure for a hint of weakness. There were none. This structure, like everything else the raptors had built, had been constructed meticulously from very solid materials. The interlocking geodesic panels that formed the walls and ceiling were held in place by solid metal frames. Every joint was fitted to perfection, every panel – flawless. It was hard to say what material the panels had been made from. Running a finger across the surface of the one behind his back, Sam guessed they were a form of moulded dense plastic, though it was impossible to tell how thick they were. He pushed back hard against the panel, but it did not appear to flex at all. Giving up on the panels, he started to trace the joint lines of every panel around the room in sequence.

  ‘Hey, what’s that?’ he asked suddenly, getting to his feet again and pointing up at a tiny black bubble in the corner of a ceiling panel towards the back of the room. ‘It looks like one of those fisheye security cameras they sometimes use in department stores back home, but much, much smaller.’ He waved at it and then prowled around underneath thinking.

  ‘Do you think we might get a response if we covered it up?’ Callum asked.

  ‘Possibly,’ Sam replied. ‘But how are we going to do that?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. Give me a boost up and I’ll take a closer look.’

  Sam interlocked his fingers and squared his back. Callum was not heavy and as he stepped up onto Sam’s waiting hands, Sam lifted him up with ease. Callum leaned against the wall for balance and then walked his hands up until he reached the ceiling. Sam tried to look up, but with Callum leaning over his head, it was hard to see what the smaller boy was doing. Suddenly, there was a flash and both boys were hurled to the floor.

  Sam recovered first.

  ‘Cal? Are you all right?’

  ‘Owwww!’ Callum groaned, cradling his right hand with his left. ‘Still in one piece, I think. My fingers are a bit frazzled though. Don’t think I’ll be fiddling with that thing again in a hurry.’

  ‘What happened? What is it?’

  ‘It could be a camera, but it’s hard to tell,’ Callum explained. ‘It seems to be protected by some sort of electric field. As soon as my hand got close, it zapped me. It was like when I nearly electrocuted myself messing about in the physics lab back in year seven.’

  ‘Ha! I’d forgotten about that,’ Sam said, his lips twisting into a wry grin. ‘Didn’t Mr Perry nearly lose his job over your little electricity and water experiment?’

  ‘Poor guy underestimated the destructive power of the littlest kid in class,’ Callum said, now wriggling his fingers and rubbing at the flesh on his forearm. ‘What can I say? I’m just your regular bright spark.’

  ‘Oh, yeah!’ Sam drawled, ‘You’re a real live wire, you are! Some might even call you shocking. Now, if we could just find our way ohm . . .’

  ‘Find our way ohm!’ Callum chuckled. ‘That’s bad, Sam! Really bad. Ow! Don’t make me laugh so much. It hurts more when I laugh.’

  Afterwards, Sam could not have said what was so funny. It certainly wasn’t the quality of the jokes, but for the next minute or two the boys rolled around on the floor, helpless with laughter. Perhaps it was a release of stress that triggered it, but every time one of them tried to stop, he would look at the other and they would both begin again.

  The hissing noise of the door opening sobered them in an instant. Wiping the tears from his cheeks, Sam sat up and looked around. A man stood in the doorway. He was tall and slim with a receding grey hairline and glasses perched on the end of a beak-like nose. A white coat, similar to those of the two raptors that flanked him, hung from his shoulders. Despite being an immaculate white, the man managed to make it look scruffy.

  ‘Boys,’ he began, the nasal whine of his voice instantly setting Sam’s teeth on edge. ‘I’m Professor Winters. I work here at the Imperium’s Scientific Research Facility. I’ve been sent to see that your ill-advised tampering did not harm you. I would also warn you against touching the monitoring device again. The shielding charge has been doubled.’

  ‘What the hell is going on here, professor? That thing nearly fried us, and you calmly announce you’ve made it worse!’ Sam replied, all traces of humour gone. ‘Why have we been locked in here? We’ve not done any harm. We only came here to look for my mother, Claire Cutler.’

  The man’s eyes showed no compassion as he replied. ‘Yes, I know. It is because of Claire Cutler that you’re being held. She is a dangerous heretic and a traitor to the Imperium. The High Council of the Imperium have been trying to put a stop to the activities of the band of rebels she leads for over two years now. They are hoping that when she learns you are here, she will surrender herself to the authorities in a bid to have you set free.’

  ‘My mother’s leading a rebel group?’ Sam asked, unable to hide his shock.

  ‘And if she doesn’t surrender?’ Callum added quickly, steering the professor towards a more pertinent answer.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ he admitted. ‘The raptor council are not renowned for their patience or their compassion. If I were you, I’d hope that your mother does as the Imperium directs.’

  ‘But she’s only a marine biologist,’ Sam sputtered. ‘What harm could she possibly . . .’

  ‘Only a marine biologist!’ Professor Winters interrupted, clearly horrified
by Sam’s choice of words. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, boy. Scientists of every kind are held in the highest regard here at the Imperium. If your mother possessed any common sense, she would be using her standing, knowledge and abilities to further the magnificent work that the raptor community have achieved. Instead, she is intent on stirring dissension and malcontent. There are a few like your mother who actively seek to destroy everything the High Council of the Imperium have worked for.’

  ‘Look, I can’t claim to know my mother,’ Sam said, his tone aggressive. ‘I was only five years old the last time I saw her. I barely remember her, OK? From what I’ve seen since we arrived, upsetting a raptor isn’t a good idea. Deliberately irritating the majority of the raptor race certainly isn’t at the top of my ‘to do’ list, that’s for sure. Why my mother would want to do that is beyond me, but Callum and me haven’t done anything wrong. Holding us is pointless.’

  The professor shook his head and turned to leave.

  ‘Wait!’ Callum pleaded. ‘Please! At least tell us what sort of things she’s been saying.’

  ‘You think I would repeat her lies?’ Winters sneered. ‘You will not hear such nonsense from my lips. If the High Council sees fit to let you speak with her before she is executed, maybe you will learn something of her foolish beliefs, but I doubt it. Her lies are pernicious. The raptors are right to censor them

  As the professor continued to rant, Callum nudged Sam gently in the ribs. Sam flicked a glance at his friend, who whispered one word at him – ‘Nipper.’ Sam’s heart instantly started to pound. He looked back at the man in the white coat and then let his focus drift past him to the two raptors behind. Was Callum imagining things? He found it hard to tell most raptors apart. Many of them looked remarkably similar, though they no doubt felt the same way about humans.