Read The Devil's Triangle Online

Authors: Mark Robson

The Devil's Triangle (30 page)

The police officer glanced at her and she felt sure the game was up. To her amazement though, his gaze seemed to slide straight off her and back to Carrie. The disguise was working. She had not really believed it would, but Carrie was right. The man had not given her a second glance. The grumbling bus rounded the patrol car and its tyres crackled to a halt on the dusty gravel in front of her. There was a hiss and the door opened. Niamh bounded up the steps.

‘Miami?’ she asked, showing the ticket Carrie had printed out for her.

‘Take a seat, miss,’ the driver said, giving her a nod.

Niamh turned back to Carrie. ‘Say goodbye to Tony for me,’ she said. ‘Thanks again for everything.’ The doors gave another hiss and folded outwards to shut with a satisfying
clunk
and she moved back along the rows of seats until she was about halfway back along the aisle. As she settled into the seat, there was a tap at the window. It was Carrie. She was grinning and waving. Carrie continued to wave as the bus pulled away.

It looked as though she’s enjoying my narrow escape
, Niamh thought as she waved and watched until Carrie was out of sight. Niamh would never forget how much Carrie and Tony had helped her. Without them, she would have been caught by the police for sure.

It took a while for Niamh to settle back into her seat and fully relax. She could still feel Sam in her mind. Why were his thoughts and emotions so clear all of a sudden? It felt as though her mind had suddenly been fine-tuned to the correct frequency. The fuzzy static that had clouded her link was almost completely gone. Wherever he was, there was danger all around him. Was it the strength of his current emotion making him feel closer? She didn’t think so. If anything, he felt physically further away than he had when she had been on the Mitchells’ boat. It was weird . . . unless . . . unless the equivalent of a door had somehow been opened between them.

Niamh tried to think through some of the theories that her dad had told her about. Wasn’t one of them based on a sort of portal? Was that it? Had Sam and Callum passed through a sort of gateway? If so, where had the gateway led? Some of the old names for the Bermuda Triangle hinted at another place – the Port of Lost Souls, the Limbo of the Lost. But wherever Sam was, it didn’t feel like any sort of limbo. The Devil’s Triangle – was it a trap? Was there actually some malevolent being that lured boats and aircraft into an elaborate web from which there was no escape?

A sudden revelation seemed to trap all the air in Niamh’s lungs. Sam was not just afraid for himself. Niamh might have expected him to be afraid for Callum as well, but that was not it. He was afraid for . . . Mum! It felt as though someone had tied a rope around her ribcage and was pulling it tighter and tighter. Why did it feel as if Sam was thinking so clearly about Mum? Was it possible that she was still alive after all this time?

With a determined effort, Niamh drew a steadying breath in through her nose, taking in more and more air until her chest felt fit to burst. Relaxing, she allowed the pressure to expel the air gently through her mouth and then she did it again. Several breaths later, she felt the pressure on her ribs begin to relax. If it was true, it would be amazing! She had to let Dad know what she had sensed . . . but how? For all she knew, he might already be halfway across the Atlantic being escorted home by the police.

Dare she ring his mobile? The police almost certainly had it, but at least she would be able to send her father a message. Niamh looked around the bus to see if there was anyone she’d be comfortable asking to borrow a phone from. There was an older teenage boy sitting a couple of seats forward and on the other side of the aisle. He would surely have a phone, but she wasn’t sure she would have the confidence to ask him. There was an old lady sitting in the seat directly behind her, four more old people sitting further forward and a young couple sitting right at the back of the bus. One glance at them and Niamh knew that she would be too embarrassed to interrupt their intimate conversation.

I can wait
, she told herself.
Maybe if I focus, I’ll learn more
.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, feeling for Sam’s emotions and listening for his thoughts. Instantly, a sense of danger set the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. It felt as if Sam was running, but he had nowhere safe to run to. Was this really Sam she was feeling? Niamh could not help but wonder if the feelings were simply reflections of how she felt about her own current situation.

For several minutes, she concentrated. He was travelling fast. She had the sense that he was inside, yet not inside. But that made no sense . . . Callum was with him. Yes. She could feel his presence. He was scared too. But there was someone else. Someone bigger. No. Not someone. Something. A confusing image filled her mind. Although it was unclear, the impression was of a creature that could have stepped out of
Doctor Who
, or
Star Wars
. Through the fuzzy static a face emerged, like nothing Niamh had ever seen before. At first it did not look particularly frightening, but then its mouth began to open and she saw the teeth.

Her focus was lost in an instant. Her heart was beating hard and fast. Her stomach was churning. Her eyes snapped open and the bright sunlight beaming through the windows of the bus set her to blinking away tears. Niamh had never had a waking nightmare before, but that must have been what the image was. The creature she had seen in her mind’s eye could not be real. It wasn’t possible, but she could not recall ever seeing anything quite like it before. So where had the image come from, if not from Sam?

With her blood hammering in her ears, it took a moment for her to register the news announcement on the bus’s radio. It was the word ‘coastguard’ that triggered her to mentally tune in to what the newsreader was saying.

‘. . . coastguard today announced they were calling off the active search for two boys who went missing on Wednesday morning. Aircraft from Fort Lauderdale and coastguard vessels from Naval Air Station Key West have been combing the waters around Summerland Key for any sign of Sam Cutler and Callum Barnes, both aged fourteen and from England. The boys were on vacation at Mr Matthew Cutler’s holiday home when they allegedly took Mr Cutler’s boat out fishing.

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
thum
p. 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.

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