Eye of the Storm (29 page)

Niamh looked into his eyes and the hurt she saw there stabbed like a dagger to her heart.

‘Yes, Dad,’ she said, tears welling in her eyes. ‘I thought about it often, but I didn’t feel I had a choice. When the police came to take you away, I realised that I was
the only one left with a real need to find the boys. Everyone else would just be going through the motions of a search. You made that point to me several times when I asked you about
Mum.’

‘And that made it OK to commit a serious crime and possibly alienate one of our family friends? You’re very lucky that Mitch didn’t press charges.’

‘I’m sorry. No, Dad,’ she said, unable to maintain eye contact. ‘Of course it didn’t make it OK. But I didn’t feel as if I had much choice. I
know
Sam’s alive. You know how close we are, Dad. I really believe we could find him if you weren’t stuck in here, but there’s not much hope of doing it unless we can get back to
Florida.’

She looked up at him again and his eyes bored into hers as he considered her words.

‘Apology accepted,’ he said eventually, his expression softening. ‘But please don’t do anything like that again, Niamh. I don’t think my poor heart will take much
more. Now, can you fill in some blanks for me? Tell me what happened after you ran.’

Niamh went through an abridged account of her adventures in the Florida Keys and Matt’s eyes were not the only ones that were wide as she described her tangles with the police and how she
evaded them for as long as she did. She omitted to say anything about her growing fondness for Tony, but she knew her father well enough to know that he would read between the lines. Ben stared at
her in amazement throughout and Archie listened intently, soaking up each word.

‘Dad, you know how I’ve always said that there are times when I can feel when Sam is in trouble or pain?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ever since the boys disappeared, I’ve been getting images in my mind that can only have come from Sam, Dad. He’s been in a lot of danger, but he’s definitely still
alive. I really think some of your Devil’s Triangle theories could be the key to finding him.’

‘You’re sure?’ he asked, his eyes alight as he considered her story. ‘I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel. For years I’ve told myself over and over
that Claire might still be alive somewhere, but it’s been hard to hold on to that hope. Your link with your brother could prove to be the key to solving the mystery that has baffled the world
for years. So you’ve been going through my notes. Have you reached any conclusions?’

At the mention of her mother, the horrifying image of her impaled on the spike flashed into her mind again and Niamh was glad that her father’s eyes were distant at that moment as she felt
sure that something of her reaction to that picture would surely show on her face. Should she conceal the image from him? Would he want to know? Could she tell him even if she wanted to? She
decided to avoid the subject for now. He had enough to contend with.

‘Dad, I really think you’re on to something with the electromagnetic research you were doing.’

‘Really?’ he said excitedly. ‘For a long time I thought that was a red herring, but in recent years, I’ve become progressively more interested in it. What drew you to
that?’

‘It’s more of a feeling than anything else,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Intuition. For some reason I can’t explain, there is something about it that makes me feel that
you’re getting close to the truth. There’s something else as well. A common theme that kept cropping up among the incidents where people didn’t disappear was ‘‘the sea
looking different’’. You wrote a comment in your notes that intrigued me: what if it really was a different sea? Do you think there could be a link between an electromagnetic field and
the sea looking different? I didn’t find anything more in your notes.’

‘Well, there’re lots of reasons why the sea might look different. . .’ Matt said thoughtfully. ‘I can’t remember what I was thinking when I wrote that note now. It
must be an old one. I don’t think electromagnetism could affect the appearance of the sea—’

‘What about the Hutchison Effect?’ Niamh interrupted. ‘He appeared to move non-metallic materials with electromagnetic fields. Would water not be similarly affected?’

I suppose it’s possible,’ he admitted.

‘Of course there is another possibility,’ Niamh offered.

‘Which is?’

‘Your note might have been spot on. They could have been looking at an entirely different sea,’ she said.

‘A portal!’ Archie exclaimed. ‘Like the sort of things they found in
Star Trek
?’

‘I wouldn’t know about
Star Trek,
Archie, but yes, I suppose so,’ she said. ‘Sort of like looking through a window into another world.’

‘A window to another world. . .’ Matt repeated, his voice low and breathy. ‘Could it be? Or a different dimension? A different universe? No! Surely not. That’s just too
far-fetched.’

‘Is it?’ Niamh asked. ‘It would explain many of the most baffling mysteries. What was it that Sherlock Holmes said about solving puzzles? When you have eliminated all other
possibilities, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’

‘Sherlock Holmes wasn’t a real detective, Niamh. He was a fictional character.’

‘I know, but the principle seems sound to me.’

‘Assuming for a moment that your hypothesis was correct, it would mean that the boys . . . and even Claire . . . might still be alive and, well, in another world.’

At the fresh mention of her mother, Niamh looked away again, but not quickly enough. Matt’s gaze zeroed in on her and his eyes narrowed as he tried to interpret her expression.

‘There’s something important you’re not telling me, isn’t there? Come on, Niamh. No secrets. We need to help each other here.’

‘Dad, wherever Sam is . . . I think he found Mum there.’

Matthew’s eyes lit up, but then narrowed as he studied her face. ‘I want to leap about and yell “I knew it!”, but there’s still something you’re not telling
me, isn’t there? Something bad. I can see it in your eyes, Niamh. Out with it. Come on. Don’t bottle it up. Trust me, it’s for the best.’

Tears welled afresh in her eyes as she tried to form the words in her mouth. How could she tell him? She knew how much Claire still meant to him, even after all this time.

‘Is it about Sam? Or your mum?’

‘It’s Mum,’ she murmured, her voice feeling so tight that she could suddenly barely speak. ‘It’s why I had to come and see you, Dad. It happened yesterday. I saw
her through Sam’s eyes. Dad, it was terrible! I saw her dying and I felt Sam’s shock and anger as I viewed it through his eyes. I can’t get the image out of my mind. It’s
horrible.’

All the colour drained from Matt’s face.

‘I’m so sorry, Dad,’ she said, words suddenly spilling from her mouth in an accelerating torrent. ‘All these years you were right to keep looking. I know it now.
I’m sorry if me and Sam doubted you. There’s something going on in the Devil’s Triangle – something weird. I wish I’d tried to help more before it came to this.
I’m so sorry.’

Matthew Cutler took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Tears welled in his eyes as he met her gaze.

‘No apologies, Niamh,’ he said, shaking his head and dashing the tears away with the back of his hand. ‘You and Sam have always been very patient with my obsession with finding
your mum. But until I can prove she’s dead, I can’t give up on Claire. I’ve come too far. And I’ve not had a chance to begin searching in earnest for Sam and Callum. All I
can hope for now is that your vision is just a bad dream.’

‘It’s OK, Dad,’ Niamh replied, tears running freely down her cheeks. ‘I understand. I’m sorry, but I had to tell you.’

‘Of course you did, darling,’ he soothed. ‘Listen. We’ll find them. OK? Somehow, someday, we’ll find them all.’ He paused, thinking. ‘Actually,
I’ve been thinking for a couple of years now that I should see if I can get something, an instrument or gadget of some kind, that will detect, measure and track electromagnetic disturbances.
I don’t even know if such a thing exists. But maybe something like that could help.’

‘If it does exist, we’ll find it, Uncle,’ Archie volunteered. ‘And if it doesn’t, then we’ll just have to find someone who can build us something to do the
job.’

‘Everyone find a comfortable vantage spot with a good field of fire,’ Nathan growled, his deep voice thick with frustration and anger. ‘Don’t fire until
you’re sure of your target. Make every shot count. When they attack, they’ll come like a swarm of angry hornets. Try to stay calm and pick them off, starting with the closest first.
Let’s make them regret coming here.’

Sam moved out of the cave entrance and settled himself behind a large rock. Last stand or not, Sam felt surprisingly unafraid. Instead, a white-hot furnace of anticipation roared inside him.
Using the rock as a rest to steady his aim, he fixed his focus on a point some distance down the winding path and waited.

The gloomy light of dusk was fading fast. Would the raptors wait for complete darkness, or would they attack straight away? They were little more than dark shadows already. Picking them out well
enough to make each shot count in the full dark of night would be nearly impossible. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, Sam attempted to calm the throbbing beat of his inner
fury.

Callum appeared to his right and squatted down behind the rock next to his. ‘Nathan sounds pretty hacked off,’ he observed.

‘Nathan always sounds hacked off,’ Sam replied without humour. ‘But I suppose he has good cause now. I imagine I would be pretty annoyed if I’d just led an army of
raptors to my secret hideout. It was a pretty stupid thing to do.’

‘I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose.’

‘I know, but that doesn’t stop it from being stupid,’ Sam said, maintaining his focus through the sights of his rifle. ‘Hello! What’s this? It looks like
they’ve stopped.’

Callum stood up to get a clearer view. Sam was reluctant to lose his focus and do likewise, but after a moment, his curiosity won him over.

‘It looks like a single raptor is climbing up,’ Callum noted. ‘What do you think he wants?’

‘Our surrender probably,’ Sam replied coldly. Trying to remember everything his mother had taught him, he concentrated on aiming the rifle at the raptor’s centre of mass.
Almost as if the raptor heard what he had said, or sensed fingers tightening on triggers, it suddenly stopped and called out to them in a loud voice.

‘Hold your fire, everyone,’ Nathan ordered. ‘Put your safety catches on. Newton, you’re with me. I want to check this out. It could still be a trap.’

‘What’s going on?’ Sam asked in a loud voice.

‘The raptor claims to be Einstein,’ Sherri answered, as Nathan and Newton jumped up and moved down the path to intercept the lone figure. ‘It certainly sounds like him, but
it’s hard to be sure at this distance.’

‘So what are all those other raptors doing here?’

‘Patience, Sam,’ Sherri replied. ‘I don’t know any more than you do on that front. Let’s wait and see, shall we?’

When Nathan returned, he brought some familiar figures with him. Alongside Newton came Einstein and behind them Grunt supported a sorry-looking Nipper. His wounds had been smothered with a
pungent ointment that had stopped the bleeding. He walked slowly and with a heaviness that was so out of character that Sam barely recognised him.

On seeing Sam, Nipper stopped and regarded him with a steady stare.

‘Ssssamm. Ssssorry,’ Nipper apologised and bowed his head.

‘You don’t need to apologise, Nipper,’ Sam replied, tears trickling down his cheeks in steady rivulets. ‘You did all you could. You risked your life trying to save my
mother. I will never forget that.’

Nipper looked up and met Sam’s gaze with his steady black eyes. For a moment he was silent and then the injured raptor turned to Sherri and spoke to her in his own language.

‘Nipper says he would not be alive now if it was not for you, Sam,’ she translated. ‘He says you owe him nothing. Any debt you had was cancelled when you taught him the human
fighting techniques he used to stay alive. He says he was proud to name Claire as a member of his family, just as he is proud to name you.’

‘And I am proud to be named,’ Sam replied, inclining his head in a gesture of respect.

It was clear that Nipper understood. Sherri addressed Nipper again, but it was Grunt who answered. Sam was curious to know what they were saying because whatever Grunt had answered clearly
excited the diminutive woman.

‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What did Grunt say?’

‘It seems the Council of the Imperium made a big miscalculation this afternoon,’ she explained, her words spilling out in a bubbling torrent. ‘Their decision to ignore
tradition and continue with the execution of Alex and Claire this afternoon after Nipper’s victory over their champion has angered large numbers of raptors. Nipper is now considered a wronged
hero, and Alex and Claire, despite being human, have been hailed as martyrs. All those raptors down there have sworn oaths to follow Nipper and to defy the Imperium. Better still, it could be that
they are the tip of the iceberg. This could be the start of a full-scale rebellion!’