Eye of the Storm (32 page)

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Authors: Mark Robson

BOOK: Eye of the Storm
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Callum rocked the wings in acknowledgement as he flew over his friend. To his right, he could see the rebel encampment in the valley near the cave. Avoiding it, he banked away to the left and
set a south-easterly course that gave a good closing angle to the coast. Although he could no longer see David’s machine, he assumed that the inventor was following.

The power difference between the machines and the difficulties in flying together had become apparent when they had stolen the machines. When Callum proposed taking the machines to attempt a
crossing through the eye of a storm, David’s eyes had lit up at the prospect. He had taken little convincing to make the attempt, but had quickly confessed that formation flying had never
been a design consideration when he had built the machines. If it had, he would have given at least one of them the ability to vary the power output from the fan. As the newer machine was
considerably more powerful than its predecessor, staying in formation was always going to be difficult, but it was Callum who had devised a working solution.

Flying behind Callum, David converted his excess power into height, climbing well above the lead machine. After a while, he turned off his magnetic converters and settled his machine into a fast
glide, gradually descending until he was below Callum when he switched the converters back on and repeated the procedure. It was far from an ideal situation, as doing this required David to
maintain unbroken concentration throughout the flight. Awareness of his speed and relative position to Callum’s machine was essential if they were to avoid an inadvertent collision, but short
of making complicated modifications to one or both of the machines, it seemed the most logical solution.

Callum climbed his aircraft to about a thousand feet, noted the needle position on the altimeter and then concentrated on maintaining his height and heading. He knew this flight was going to
take a long time. The plan was to fly to the beach where they had first landed in the Reserve and launch into the next incoming storm from there. The train had taken over three hours to get to the
City of the Imperium from the Reserve and that had been travelling at least three times as fast as he was flying. At best, Callum estimated they might just make it there before dark. It took a
while for him to relax and the tension in his body quickly developed into pain. His back and shoulders were aching long before they reached the coastline and once they had begun hurting, there was
to be no relief.

Time seemed to drag as the torment of muscle cramps and aches plagued him. It was just after midday when the danger struck. Distracted as he was by the discomfort of his position and the boredom
of their apparent snail’s pace, it took some time for Callum to become aware of the three black dots circling in the sky ahead. By the time he did notice, it was already too late.

Having witnessed raptors hunting in the jungle and encountered at least two large predators of the deep, it made sense that something would hunt the skies with equal ruthlessness, yet the
thought had not crossed his mind until now. As a little boy, Callum had played with model pterodactyls and taken great joy in making them swoop down on unsuspecting toy soldiers who were then
carried off to nests high on the bookshelves overlooking the battlefield that was his bedroom floor. They had been one of his favourite random battle factors. Playing those games, he had never once
given thought to what it might be like to fall under the shadow of such huge wings.

The heart-stopping screech that carried on the air sent a wave of terror through Callum, as the first approaching black dot blossomed and resolved into a gigantic winged monster. All previous
discomfort was instantly forgotten. Through blind panic, he wrenched the control bar to the right, tipping abruptly on to a wing tip and slicing the aircraft into a dive. In a manoeuvre born out of
instinct, the creature climbed abruptly, screeching a second time as it passed overhead. Afterwards, Callum reasoned that the creature was probably as surprised as he was by their relative size,
which was most likely what saved him from having his machine ripped apart there and then.

Two other creatures soared over his machine, both screeching as they went. From the brief glimpse that Callum got of the flyers, they were not so much like leathery-skinned pterodactyls as they
were the legendary giant eagles known as rocs that he had read about in one of his books of myths and legends. However, although these creatures were feathered like a bird, they did not have hard
beaks. Instead they had mouths that were elongated and full of needle-sharp teeth. Also, rather than the expected two legs, they had four and a split fan tail of huge feathers.

There was more screeching behind him. Callum craned his neck to see if he could see what they were doing, but they were out of his field of vision. Terrified that they were now pursuing him, he
levelled the wings and pushed the aircraft into a shallow dive to build up as much speed and distance from them as possible.

The cries fell behind quickly. Another quick look over his shoulder revealed why. David’s machine was descending in a steep spiral dive towards the jungle with a large part of the upper
wing missing. He was out of control with little hope of recovery and the creatures were following him down.

‘No!’ Callum gasped, his heart racing as he twisted still further in the harness, trying to follow the path of the stricken machine. Before he realised it, his own aircraft was
turning and nosing down into a dive.

Concentrate!
he berated himself, rolling out of the turn and stabilising at a steady altitude.
There’s nothing you can do for David. The best thing you can do now is to stay
alive and worry about getting home in one piece.

For the second time in as many hours, his goggles began to mist up as tears filled his eyes. Poor David! He had wanted so much to follow in the footsteps of his grandmother and become a
pioneering pilot. How better to make his mark than to become the first pilot to intentionally fly between worlds? To fall victim so quickly to the perils of the air was a terrible tragedy. Worse,
it was most likely a fatal one. With hindsight, Callum realised he had not planned this trip with any sort of thoroughness. If he had, he might have thought to question what other sorts of dangers
might lurk ahead apart from those related to the storm they intended to brave.

Callum did not see David’s machine hit the tree canopy, but when he next looked back there was no sign of him or the flying creatures. Had they followed him down? If so, David’s fate
might be too horrible to contemplate. He tried to focus on the sky ahead. What mattered now was staying alive. He was alone and feeling more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life. There was
a long way to go and it seemed likely that the three flying creatures were not the only hostile threats he would face. He could meet more of them at any time, or different creatures. For all he
knew, there could be worse out there somewhere.

Keep your eyes open and your chin up, Callum,
he told himself firmly.
You know they’re out there now. Remember what Leah said about being too scared to set foot out of the door.
If she could swim in the sea with full knowledge of the monsters that lurked there, you can cross the sky. Stay alert and you should get enough warning to stay out of harm’s way. Well,
that’s the theory anyway.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Exhausted, thirsty and hungry, Callum nearly missed Brad and Leah’s house, tucked away against the low bluff. If he had not seen the rooftops of several other houses of
human design among the trees nearby, he might have flown straight past it.

‘At last,’ he breathed.

A deep sense of relief washed his body in a warm glow. There was no mistaking it – he had reached the Reserve. Several times during the past hour he had wondered if he had miscalculated
the time it would take to get here and flown past it without noticing. At one point he had considered backtracking up the coast, but had decided better of it and was pleased to see his instincts
proved correct. He had been on the point of looking for a suitable place to land anyway, as the sun was sinking towards the horizon and the shadows of dusk were lengthening fast.

Circling once to determine the wind direction, he extended downwind over the tongue of rock that he and Sam had climbed and along the bay to allow enough distance to fly a sensible approach
path. Turning back, he switched off the electromagnetic converters and began his final descent to land on the beach. Having followed the coast all afternoon, he knew the tide was on the way in, but
it was still only half-tide and there was plenty of hard sand left to land on.

As he descended, so the light got progressively worse until it felt almost like full darkness as he neared ground level. Either night fell very quickly here or this was another flying danger
that Callum had not fully considered. Could it have something to do with the curvature of the Earth and angles of sunlight? Possibly, but he could not spare the brainpower to consider it
further.

All Callum could do was apply the techniques he had learned to use by day and hope they worked the same way at night. Looking well ahead, he alternated his focus between the airspeed and the
horizon, trying to keep from stalling while using his peripheral vision to get a sense of how close he was to the ground. Given that by the time he touched down he could see very little, he was
quite pleased with his landing. A skipping bounce and he was down, decelerating rapidly to a walking pace.

The shushing noise of the surf helped calm his racing pulse as he flicked on a single magnetic converter and used the boost of power to keep some momentum. He steered the machine round in an arc
and drove it back along the beach to where he could now just make out a familiar figure emerging from the treeline. Controlling his forward speed by flicking the power on and off, Callum taxied
right up to the edge of the soft sand near the path to Leah’s house before turning off the power and trundling to a final stop.

Sliding the stepladder out from under the harness was a struggle, and climbing out of the machine even more so. Callum staggered as he tried to stand unaided. After being horizontal in the
harness for what must have been at least ten hours, his head spun with the sudden shift to being upright and he dropped to his knees to allow the dizzy spell to pass.

‘Hello?’ Leah called from the deep shadow under the trees. ‘Who’s that and where have you come from?’

‘It’s me – Callum,’ Callum replied, his voice sounding croaky as he forced the words from his dry throat.

‘Callum? Callum! What . . . ? How . . . ?’ Leah came running down the beach to meet him and helped him back to his feet. ‘Oh, you poor boy! You look exhausted. We need to get
you inside and get you something to eat and drink. Where are the others? Are they going to fly in as well? Is Brad all right?’

Callum was glad it was dark and that Leah was unlikely to be able to see the pained look on his face. He was not looking forward to breaking the news to her that Brad was dead.

‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘Leah, I’ll tell you all about them, but first I need to get my flying machine above the tideline and to secure it somehow.’

‘Oh Lord, yes!’ Leah said, looking around. ‘If the raptors saw you come down, they’ll be wantin’ to take it away for study. If you want to keep it, we need to hide
it if we can. Where did you get it from? No. Never mind that. Let me help you. Is it heavy? Will we be able to pull it up the beach together?’

‘We can try.’

Try they did, but the wheels quickly became bogged down in the soft sand and despite their best efforts, they could move it no further. Dropping to his knees again, Callum was forced to admit
defeat.

‘It can’t stay here, Leah,’ he croaked. ‘I’ve got to make sure it’s safe. I’m not going to let the tide or the raptors take it.’

‘No, of course not,’ she soothed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get some of the others to come and help. It should be all right here for a few minutes. The raptors are
unlikely to have been watching. They don’t expect much to happen outside of stormy weather. If you’d landed tomorrow evening, they’d have seen you for sure.’

‘Tomorrow?’ Callum asked. ‘What’s special about tomorrow?’

‘There’s a storm comin’ through of course,’ Leah said. ‘Weren’t you listenin’? They always watch the beaches and comb the shoreline durin’ and
after a storm.’

Callum’s heart began pounding with excitement. ‘A storm? You’re sure?’

‘As sure as I can be,’ Leah replied. ‘My old bones ain’t been wrong in a while. Joints ache like crazy before a blow and they’ve been playin’ up all day. I
reckon it’ll be a bad-un. Glad you’re here. Of course it’ll be even better if Brad gets back. Curlin’ up next to him always makes me feel safe. I hate bein’ alone when
it’s howlin’ outside, but how we’re gonna tie this thing down well enough to stop it from blowin’ away, I really don’t know.’

Callum didn’t have the heart, or the voice, to tell her that there was no chance of Brad coming back, nor would there be any need to secure the machine for the storm. It appeared his
timing couldn’t have been better. In the morning he would take off and brave the weather. He was realistic enough to know that this could be his one shot to get home.
Do or die time,
he thought, his cracked lips curling into a smile. He had always liked that phrase, though he had never thought it would apply to himself so literally.

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