The Devil's Triangle (26 page)

‘We call it an autograph tree,’ Carrie said, noticing Niamh’s interest. ‘Whatever you write on the leaves stays there for the entire life of the tree. Cool, eh?’

‘It’s a novel form of graffiti,’ Niamh agreed, giving her a weak smile. ‘I suppose the nearest equivalent back home is carving initials into the bark of a tree.’

‘Yeah, that happens here too,’ Carrie nodded. ‘But writing on these leaves doesn’t hurt the tree like carving into bark does and if you write something you later regret, you can just pull off the leaf. This one is a bit like a living journal for me.’

‘Really? In what way?’

‘She’s written all of her past boyfriends’ names on there,’ Tony interrupted, laughing. ‘She must have covered half the tree by now!’

‘Have not!’ Carrie said, sounding hurt. ‘Not quite,’ she added in a conspiratorial voice, giving Niamh a sly wink.

‘There’s a lot of names up there,’ Tony said with a shrug.

‘And can I help it that all the boys I’ve agreed to go out with have turned out to be dorks with one thing on their mind?’ Carrie asked. ‘I like to think of it as a visual reminder of what a bunch of losers the guys are around here. Most of them have lasted one date. Some didn’t even manage that. Losers, the lot of ’em.’

They reached Tony and Carrie’s home. It did not look as large as the Summerland Key house that Niamh’s father had bought, but it did look nice. Tony and Niamh put the canoe into the garage and ushered Niamh through a door at the back that opened into the main living area. Carrie took her by the hand and Niamh winced. The blonde girl turned Niamh’s hand over to see what had caused that reaction.

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ she said, looking at the line of red blistering skin across her palm and at the base of her thumb. ‘That’s gotta hurt.’

‘No more than most of the rest of my body,’ Niamh said. ‘I had no idea that paddling a kayak was such hard work.’

‘Well, let me get you a cold drink and then you can have a soak in a nice warm . . . Niamh, get down! Now!’

Niamh didn’t hesitate. She dropped to the floor, her heart suddenly hammering as the hissed warning sent a new wave of panic through her. What now? Had the Fisheries officer followed them here after all?

‘Tony! It’s Tessa. She’s coming up the drive,’ Carrie said urgently. ‘Shoot! What if she saw Niamh? What should we do?’

‘Damn it!’ Tony muttered. ‘OK, get Niamh through to your bedroom. Stay quiet, Niamh, OK? I’ll deal with Tessa.’

‘Stay low and follow me,’ Carrie ordered.

Niamh did as she was told, crawling as fast as she could. The carpet was mercifully thick and soft against her hands, but tears tracked down her cheeks once more as she tortured her aching muscles still further. Once out of the living room and into a short hallway, she got to her feet again and stumbled along it to where Carrie was holding open a door for her.

‘Feel free to lay on the bed,’ Carrie whispered. ‘Try to relax. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

Niamh crossed the room to the bed and slumped down onto it. Just as Carrie began to close the door, she heard Tessa’s raised voice.

‘She’s here, isn’t she?’ she accused. ‘You went and got her! Are you crazy, Tony? What do you think you’re doing?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Sam’s first sight of the City of the Imperium took his breath away. From the crest of the shallow ridge it appeared to be a vast single geodesic structure covering many square kilometres of land. Its weird geometric shapes and interlocking structures looked so alien that he could not help feeling that he had somehow fallen into a computer-generated image of the far future. From the very centre of the city soared a vast spike of a tower, like a javelin of the gods stabbing down from the sky.

‘Wow!’ he breathed. ‘Now that’s something you don’t see every day.’

There was a slight jolt as airbrakes deployed from the body of the train to begin the deceleration. They were still several kilometres from the edge of the city, but Sam had already seen how long it took to shed their momentum during their one brief stop at another station about an hour and a half earlier.

The journey had passed remarkably quickly. The exhilaration as the train had reached its amazing cruising speed had taken some time to dull, but gradually, he had adapted to the sensation of travelling at super high speed.

For more than an hour, the countryside had remained monotonously flat as they flashed up the full length of this alternate world’s Florida mainland. As the train sped ever northwards, gradual undulations in the terrain began to make the scenery more interesting. Everywhere Sam looked he found new things to marvel at. He found the great herds of enormous grazing herbivore dinosaurs to be particularly fascinating. It was only when he caught sight of the fourth or fifth such herd that he realised exactly what he was seeing. These animals were being farmed by the raptors. They were the equivalent of the cows and sheep in the human world. Raptor society and values were different to those of humans, but there were some fundamental elements that seemed to have developed along similar paths.

The train decelerated slowly as it approached the edge of the city. Rather like the door to the station, the monorail appeared to run straight through the outer city wall. It was not until they were very close and a crash seemed inevitable that an enormous section of the structure opened to admit them.

Sam could barely wait to see what wonders awaited within the city, but to his disappointment, the holographic camera view suddenly vanished as they passed through the outer wall. The clamshell doors to his alcove opened and he pushed himself upright. A glance back at the wall behind him revealed the apparently solid half-tube restored to its former smoothness.

‘Amazing!’ he said.

‘Cool ride, eh?’ Callum enthused, appearing to Sam’s left. ‘Did you do what Brad said and watch channel three?’

‘Yep. It was like a three-hour-long 3D
Disney
ride!’ Sam looked past him to where Nipper and Grunt were emerging from their alcoves. ‘Talking of Brad, where is he?’ he added.

‘In his alcove, I assume,’ Callum replied, surprised. He took a few steps forward and looked into the older man’s alcove. It was empty. ‘No. He’s not here,’ he reported.

Nipper sniffed the air and growled. The boys did not need to understand raptor language to sense the ominous nature of that sound.

‘Sssssam, C’umm, sta,’ he hissed, pointing at the floor in front of them. A rapid exchange of clicking and growling between Grunt and Nipper concluded with Nipper disappearing along the central aisle towards the back of the train. Grunt moved in close to the boys and parked himself between them and the central aisle.

‘Something’s up,’ Sam muttered.

‘Yeah, I got that too,’ Callum mumbled back. ‘I hope Brad’s OK.’

About a minute later, Nipper returned. There was another rapid exchange between the two raptors. It seemed to involve more growling than the usual predominance of clicks. Grunt moved aside and Nipper looked at the two boys with his big yellow eyes.

‘B’ad dud,’ he said.

Sam looked across at Callum. His face hung slack and the colour was draining from his complexion. He looked back at Nipper.

‘No! I must have heard that wrong.’ Sam gasped. ‘Did you just say Brad’s dead?’

Nipper nodded. It was hard to read the raptor’s expression, but Sam could see the anger in his stance. Did the creature feel any regret or sadness? He couldn’t tell.

‘How?’ Callum asked, his tone flat and lifeless. ‘Why?’

Nipper made slashing motions with his claws. Sam and Callum winced simultaneously. No words were needed to help the boys with an interpretation.

‘It was a raptor?’ Sam asked.

Nipper nodded again. ‘Bad sssorrrrt,’ he said, growling the ‘r’ sound. ‘Come.’

At first, the boys thought Nipper was going to lead them to Brad’s body, but he stopped next to the exit doors. Other raptors were emerging from their alcoves and converging on the same area. Nipper directed the boys into a corner near the doors and then he and Grunt hemmed them there, facing out at the other raptors and growling protectively.

‘Poor Leah!’ Callum muttered. ‘Shouldn’t we do something about Brad’s body?’

‘I don’t think that’s an option,’ Sam replied, peering nervously round the raptors. ‘Nipper and Grunt look pretty focused on protecting us. I think we’d better just worry about getting out of here alive.’

‘But we can’t just leave him, can we? What if he’s not really dead? He might just be badly . . .’

‘Dud!’ Nipper interrupted emphatically.

Sam did not reply. Brad had been so enthusiastic about bringing them to the Imperium to search for Sam’s mother. He had known how dangerous the journey would be, Sam was sure of it. Leah had known too. Although she had not said as much in front of them, Sam had seen the way she had looked at Brad before they left. Had she known it would be the last time she would see him?

Tears began to track down his cheeks as he stared at Nipper’s back. He felt so guilty. This was his fault. If they hadn’t come looking for his mum, it would never have happened. They had not been gone half a day and one of their only friends in this world was dead. It did not seem real. Sam looked across at Callum. He had put his friend in danger too. Saying something was dangerous and experiencing the deadly outcome were two entirely different things. It was bad enough knowing he was responsible for Brad’s death. How would he feel if Callum became the next victim?

He noted the tears in Callum’s eyes. He could find no more words to share at this moment.

Most of the other raptors ignored the two boys and their bodyguards. They waited patiently for the train to stop and the doors to open. It was at the moment the doors slid open that Sam noticed a particularly large raptor steal a glance in their direction. It was only for the briefest moment, but afterwards Sam felt sure he had not imagined it.

He played the moment over and over in his mind. The enormous creature’s eyes had slid across to their corner and Sam had shivered as he contemplated the cold malice that lurked behind the raptor’s gaze. He watched as the doors opened and all the other raptors disembarked. The one that had caught Sam’s eye was nearly the last to leave. He looked it up and down, noting the scars on its upper body and a line of puncture scars across its thighs. When it left, it prowled away with a loping gait and did not look back.

Nipper and Grunt kept them in the corner until the doors were totally clear before leading them off the train.

‘Come,’ Nipper ordered again.

The boys followed. What choice did they have? It was good that Nipper could speak a few recognisable words of English, but without their translator Sam suddenly felt more lost than ever.

‘Did you see that big raptor?’ Sam asked Callum in a low voice.

‘Which one? They’re all big.’

‘Not to worry,’ Sam said. ‘I’m probably imagining things.’

Inside, he knew he wasn’t.

The station in the city was larger than either of the two Sam had seen on their way there, but despite its size, it did not seem as busy as the others. The enormous holographic news screen seemed to be a standard feature. A difference in this station was the presence of several smaller monorail structures with lines of single cars that looked as if they would hold about six raptors at a time. As these filled and moved off out from the station along several different rails, others arrived to take their place. Seeing the vehicles coming and going reminded Sam of a taxi rank and it was to one of these that Nipper led them.

They joined a short queue that melted away in front of them with impressive efficiency. Then it was their turn. Nipper opened the side door to one of the monocars and ushered the boys inside. Grunt turned and barred entry to other raptors before climbing in last and closing the door behind them. As soon as the door was closed, a holographic image of the city was projected into the centre of the cabin and Nipper reached into the middle of it to touch a tiny icon with the tip of his claw. The holograph vanished and they were off.

The acceleration of the car as it pulled away was a shock. Sam rocked back in his seat and thumped the back of his head into the solid backrest so hard that he saw stars.

‘Oww!’ Callum echoed as his head made a similarly resounding impact. As the car raced out of the station along its monorail at terrifying speed, they emerged into motoring madness. ‘Holy crap!’ he swore, his whirl of emotions at the loss of Brad momentarily forgotten and fear taking their place. ‘It’s like a grand prix, but with half of the drivers going the wrong way!’

Rails converged, merged and split in a mind-twisting, spaghetti-like mass of lines, and their monocar automatically accelerated and decelerated, apparently jostling for position among the masses of other speeding cars in a mad dash for their destination.

‘Makes the M25 look like a peaceful country road at midnight by comparison,’ Sam gasped, wincing as they cut across the path of an oncoming vehicle. There did not appear to be any rhyme, reason or rules as to which way the cars were going.

‘Oh, God! It’s our turn to die!’ Callum moaned, putting his hands over his glasses and then peeping between his fingers.