by Mark Robson
Earlier today, local law enforcement authorities in Key West confirmed that Mr Cutler has been taken into custody at the request of the British authorities. He is to be returned to England later today for questioning about the disappearances. Suspicions have been aroused about the circumstances of the incident due to the remarkable similarities to those surrounding the disappearance of Mr Cutler’s wife, American-born Claire Cutler, in 2001. No formal charges have been made, but the Sheriff’s Office say they have not ruled out the possibility that the search may yet turn into a multiple homicide investigation. A search is also ongoing for Mr Cutler’s fourteen-year-old daughter, Niamh Cutler, who was seen running from the family residence in Summerland Key yesterday morning. People are asked to report any information they have concerning the whereabouts of Sam Cutler, Callum Barnes or Niamh Cutler to their local Sheriff’s Office.
Scientists today announced more bad news for local fishermen as they released the latest survey figures . . .’
Niamh took a deep breath and let it out again in one long, slow release. Poor Dad, she thought. He would be worried sick. She had to try to let him know she was OK. If she could get a message to him that she was alive and well, and that Sam was still alive somewhere, it would take a weight off his mind. With this resolution in mind, she turned to the old lady behind her and gave her a big smile.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I’ve just realised I left my mobile phone behind and I need to make a really important call. You don’t happen to have one I could use for a moment, do you? The call will only take a moment and I have a little money. I can pay.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was impossible! They were too high. Surely nothing could survive a leap from this height without sustaining serious injury? But Nipper didn’t hesitate. He launched out through the opening and, like Callum before him, Sam yelled out in terror. The ground rushed to meet them all too quickly. As they fell, the raptor manoeuvred Sam across his chest, as a mother would cradle a baby.
In all the books that Sam had read, it was usual for a person’s life to flash before their eyes in the moment before their death. Strangely, all Sam could think of was his sister, Niamh. It was almost as if she was with him, falling through the air alongside . . . no, inside him. It was a weird feeling. The string of bizarre events that had led to the search for his long-lost mother had been amazing, but there seemed little else left to do now than tense all his muscles and hope the end did not hurt too much.
To Sam’s amazement, the impact with the pavement was not the bone-cracking, blood-spattering affair he expected. Nipper’s huge thigh muscles absorbed the shock of landing with apparent ease, but even with the cushioning effect of the raptor’s arms under Sam’s shoulders and thighs to soften the deceleration, the whiplash effect of their abrupt arrival was severe. The pain was instant and sharp, but Sam retained consciousness and his sense of reprieve at having survived the jump outweighed any physical discomfort.
The warm feeling of relief lasted barely an instant. No sooner had Nipper landed than he was up and running again, tucking Sam back under his arm as a child might carry a doll. Lightning bolts of pain shot up and down Sam’s neck and back. For a moment, he wondered if his neck was broken, but he found he still had control over his head and he could move his hands and feet, so it seemed unlikely. Grunt was a few paces ahead carrying Callum. Sam could see that his friend had his hands clamped over his eyes. Given where Grunt was heading, Sam wished he was in a position to do the same. Unfortunately, his arms were clamped to his sides by Nipper’s powerful biceps.
The two raptors ran like the wind towards the terrifying mass of traffic that raced with chaotic precision around the main hub of the Imperium. Sam saw Grunt leap an instant before he felt the bunching of Nipper’s muscles.
‘Noooo!’
The word emerged from between Sam’s lips as barely more than a whimper as Nipper sprang. If Sam had thought the jump from the building was terrifying, this was worse. The two raptors launched high into the air straight into the crazy mess of speeding traffic. The sudden acceleration as Nipper landed on top of one of the vehicles was almost as abrupt as the deceleration on landing from the long fall a few seconds earlier. Sam could feel the raptor’s muscles straining as it fought to maintain its fragile purchase on the roof of the high-speed cabin car. The screeching of Nipper’s claws on the polished metal surface as he tried to keep his balance sent shivers down Sam’s spine. The sound was more piercing than fingernails running down a blackboard. Nipper leapt again and they landed on another roof heading in the same direction.
The mad transportation system of the Imperium had been terrifying enough inside one of the monocars, but that fear was as nothing compared with how it felt to be carried from roof to roof across the seething mass of vehicles. How Nipper timed his jumps, Sam would never know. The raptor seemed to know instinctively which cars were changing lanes and accurately predicted where his chosen target car would be with every leap. In a terrifying sequence of death-defying leaps, Sam was carried away from the heart of the Imperium.
He could no longer see Callum and Grunt. But Sam could only hope they were elsewhere on the superhighway, clinging to the roof of another car. The alternative did not bear thinking about. A thump made Sam look left. A large raptor had landed on the roof of a nearby car and was preparing to leap again. To Sam’s horror, he realised it wasn’t Grunt.
From the moment they had leapt out of the hole that Nipper and Grunt had kicked in the side of the Imperium building, the idea of their being followed had not entered Sam’s mind. He was struggling enough to cope with the danger and fear of the crazy things Nipper was doing. Pursuit seemed beyond impossible, yet the reality was literally staring him in the face.
‘Nipper! Look out!’ Sam yelled as the incoming raptor sprang into the air towards them.
Apparently, his warning was redundant. Rather than leap away, Nipper twisted and met the incoming attacker with a kick that sent his assailant over the side of the car. There was a short screech of claws on metal and a car travelling in the opposite direction hit the raptor with a sickening thump. It was gone.
Sam was so tense with fear that he could taste the bitterness of it on his tongue. Nipper coiled and sprang again and Sam could only brace himself as cars flashed past beneath him before another car appeared, as if by magic, for them to land on.
‘Oh, God! There’s more of them coming.’
Sam could see several now. Seeing them leaping from car to car was both breathtaking and horrifying. These were no raptor scientists in their pristine white coats. These raptors were every bit as big and as fast as Nipper and Grunt. Where are they coming from and how have they followed so quickly, he wondered.
The monocar that Nipper and Sam were piggybacking did an abrupt turn to the right, spearing off along a branch rail that took them away from the madness of the central hub. Looking over his shoulder, Sam watched as two further cars, both toting unorthodox passengers on the roof, swung right to follow them.
‘Grrrrrrr!’
The growl from Nipper said it all. Sam had no idea how, but it appeared that the following raptors were somehow controlling the direction of the cars. They were being shepherded and now that they were away from the hub, it was impossible to make a quick switch and throw them off track again. Sam looked left and right as the car zipped along a narrow alleyway between two buildings. Where were they going?
Another alley merged from the left and to Sam’s amazement, a car carrying Grunt and Callum sped out to join the rail just in front of them. More cars followed, some with raptors clinging to the roof. Looking back, Sam watched with dismay as one of the trailing raptors made an incredible leap forward to a closer car. It did not land cleanly and spent a second or two scrabbling for balance, but it did not fall. He could see others preparing to follow suit. There was no way that Nipper could make a similar jump carrying him. The gap to the car ahead was far too great.
Nipper called out a series of pen
etrating clicks, followed by a long, loud growl. Grunt acknowledged from the car ahead with the sound for which he had been named. Sam had no idea what they had agreed, but he could feel Nipper’s muscles bunching again, so he braced himself for another leap. Surely he was not planning to try to jump forward to join Grunt on his car?
At an unspoken signal, both raptors simultaneously threw themselves sideways from their respective cars. Even hitting the ground at a sprint was not enough for the rapotrs to keep their feet under them. They tumbled, rolling so quickly that Sam was too disorientated to tell how Nipper shielded him from the impact. His head was still spinning when he realised the raptor had somehow rolled upright and was running again with Grunt matching him stride for stride.
The two raptors were racing along at an insane speed, but still it was not fast enough. The trailing raptors, having jumped to follow, were unencumbered and gaining ground all the time. Nipper angled left and headed for an alleyway between two buildings. He appeared to be heading for the outer wall of the city, but no sooner had he turned into the alley than Sam’s heart sank. It was a dead end. They were trapped. The two raptors slowed as they reached the end wall. There was no time to break any panels. Their pursuers were too close behind. Nipper came to a halt and carefully placed Sam down on the ground before turning to face the pursuing raptors.
The light in the alleyway was slightly dimmer than it had been out in the wider spaces between the buildings where the rail cars ran, but it was bright enough for Sam to see that these raptors all had a darker shade of scales than Nipper and Grunt. There were five of them blocking the way back out into the open. Seeing that their prey was trapped they slowed and formed a line, advancing side by side, a walking wall of muscle and teeth. Behind them, another raptor entered the alleyway and paused at the entrance.
At first, Sam was not sure, but when the wall of raptors stopped and parted to let the leader through, he saw the scars and knew instantly that it had to be the same one.
‘It’s the scarred raptor from the train,’ Sam gasped, looking at Callum. ‘Look at the line of marks on his legs. I think he’s the one who killed Brad.’
The incoming raptor bared his teeth in a wide grin and nodded.
‘He understood you,’ Callum muttered. ‘Careful what you say.’
Nipper suddenly hissed and the scarred raptor stopped his advance. Two paces behind him his five followers also stopped. Scar and Nipper faced one another for a moment and both bared their teeth. It was hard to tell whether this was a display of defiance, aggression or contempt.
Scar spoke first, firing out a staccato sequence of clicks that echoed in the enclosed alley. Nipper responded in kind. Despite not understanding anything of the language, Nipper’s posture and deep-throated growling response were not hard to interpret. He was not going to back down.
‘If I was a betting kind of guy, I’d say that the big old raptor over there just asked Nipper to do something and Nipper told him to go to hell,’ Callum whispered.
‘No bet here,’ Sam replied. ‘That’s how I read it too.’
There were another couple of exchanges, but the tone and posturing remained the same throughout. Suddenly, Scar roared, causing Sam and Callum to jump. Nipper and Grunt visibly tensed, but neither of them backed down one iota.
‘They can’t fight all six of them,’ Callum muttered. ‘They’ll be slaughtered.’
‘You saw what Nipper did to the scientists,’ Sam said, trying to sound optimistic.
‘Yeah, but those were highbrow scientist types. These look like a bunch of skinhead thugs by comparison.’
Sam had to admit he was right.
It appeared Scar had made his final point. He turned and walked back through his line of followers, who instantly closed ranks and stepped forward as one. Nipper growled so deeply that Sam could feel the sound vibrating through his chest. Grunt added his voice and the two leaned forward, bunching their muscles in preparation for the inevitable attack.
It was not to come.
To the boys’ amazement, Nipper and Grunt suddenly spun and crouched over them, shielding the boys’ bodies just as a shocking sequence of minor explosions went off all around them. The rattle of shattered plastic panels raining against the opposing walls was followed instantly by the unmistakable sound of gunfire. Sam tried to wriggle into a position to see what was happening, but Nipper held him down and gave him a warning growl.
‘Take them down!’ yelled a woman’s voice. ‘Don’t let them get away!’
More gunfire.
‘The leader. Take out the leader!’
Further shots. A pause.
‘Hell and damnation!’ she cursed. ‘That’s twice he’s given us the slip! No, don’t go after him. There’ll be more of them here any minute now. We need to make ourselves scarce. Come on, guys. Get the kids and let’s get the hell outta here before we have a real fight on our hands.’
‘Yes, ma’am!’
Nipper got up and before Sam had a chance to move, a man grabbed him by the hands and dragged him to his feet. The man looked at him and grinned. He looked like a modern-day pirate. His dark beard and moustache were flecked with grey, and his teeth were yellowed and crooked.
‘There’s no mistaking it,’ he announced. ‘This has to be your boy, Claire. He looks just like you.’
Sam’s heart threatened to stop altogether. Claire? His mother? Here? He looked around and there she was, unmistakably older than the woman in the photos that Dad held so dear, but definitely the same person.
‘Mum?’ he said.
‘Sam!’
Sam wanted to say more. A million questions crowded in his mind, but he suddenly found he could scarcely breathe as his mother swept him into a crushing hug. The unmistakable outlines of several weapons pressed hard against his body, including what felt like a pistol in her right hand. This was not quite the reunion he had imagined, but he didn’t care. Against all odds he had found his mum. Nothing else mattered at that moment.
‘Are Matt and Niamh with you or did you cross alone?’ she asked urgently.
‘No,’ he answered. ‘Just me and my friend, Callum.’
‘Claire, I hate to break up the party, but we need to get out of here,’ the bearded man announced, scanning the alley with worried eyes.
‘Sorry, Sam, but Nathan’s right,’ his mother said softly, giving him an extra hard squeeze before letting him go. ‘Bring your friend and follow me. Stay close. I don’t want to lose you again. As soon as we’re in safe territory, I want you to tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out. Oh, and I’ve got nine years of hugs to catch up on,’ she said, giving him a warm smile. Even as she spoke, she was simultaneously flashing hand signals at the men and raptors around her with her left hand. From the pistol in her right hand, a thin coil of grey smoke was curling from the barrel. ‘For now we’ve gotta concentrate on getting away from here or we’ll all end up dead.’
‘Sure, Mum,’ Sam said, holding his voice firm; it felt so bizarre to say that word after so many years. He looked at her alert posture and the other gun holstered at her right hip. Her hair was tied back in a functional ponytail. She looked fit and dangerous. It was fair to say that she was about as different as she could be from the person he had been expecting to meet.
‘Hey, Sam!’ Callum whispered. ‘You never told me that your mum was a Sarah Connor clone. You know – Sarah Connor from the Terminator films.’
Sam looked him in the eye as he replied. ‘Believe me,’ he whispered back. ‘I had no idea what she was like. No idea at all.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
‘Hello? Who’s this?’ Niamh asked, keeping her voice low and leaning forward to prevent the lady behind from listening in.
There was a slight pause.
‘Hi there, Niamh. This is Niamh, isn’t it? I’m afraid your father can’t answer the phone right now, but he’s very concerned about you. We all are. Can you tell us where you are?’
Niamh knew instantly that she was ta
lking to a policeman. She had seen enough films to know that the police had the technology to track incoming calls. They were probably tracing the signal so she needed to keep the call short.
‘Just tell my dad that I’m fine and that Sam is alive. I’m going to bring him back,’ she murmured quickly.
‘That’s great news, Niamh,’ the voice assured her smoothly. ‘I’ll be sure to pass on the message. Have you heard from Sam? Do you know where he is?’
How much to say? The policeman would not take her seriously if she told him she had a telepathic bond with her brother. Anything along those lines would make her sound crazy. He’s stalling you, she told herself. Keeping you on the line to get a lock. Get off the phone now.
‘In a manner of speaking,’ she said softly. ‘He’s gone north.’
She punched the disconnect button. North – why had she told them that? Something inside her had felt an irresistible need to justify her inner knowledge that Sam was still alive. The whole of North America was north of the Keys, but Niamh couldn’t help feeling annoyed with herself. Had she been quick enough to avoid them tracking her? The phone call had only lasted a few seconds – less than thirty for sure. She didn’t know how she could check the length of the call on this sort of handset. She turned to the old lady from whom she had borrowed the mobile and handed it back.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Here’s a couple of dollars.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that, honey,’ the lady said, closing Niamh’s fingers round her money. ‘You were only a few seconds. Did you get through OK? The signal comes and goes a bit around here sometimes.’
‘It was perfect, thanks.’
Niamh gave the lady another smile before turning around again to avoid being drawn into an extended exchange. They were approaching Marathon Key now. It was one of the more densely populated islands and Niamh spent several minutes looking out of the window at the houses and the shops. There were a few people walking around, but most had more sense than to take a stroll in the intense heat of mid-afternoon. She saw another Munroe County patrol car parked up in front of one of the real-estate offices. There was no sign of the officers though.
