Eye of the Storm (5 page)

Sam turned and winked at him. ‘Mum couldn’t do it,’ he replied. ‘She’s terrified of heights and I think that after my tae kwon do demonstration last night, she
realised I am as well able to look after myself as anyone else here. Apparently, Nathan’s got a dodgy knee and Alex is renowned for being clumsy. Sherri will need someone to help her lift out
the panel and the raptors don’t have the dexterity. That left you or me.’

‘But I’m the better climber,’ Callum protested.

‘Shhh!’ Claire hissed, turning the red glow of her filtered torch back along the tunnel towards the two boys and glaring at them. She pulled an imaginary zip across her lips.

Sam nodded, mouthing the word ‘sorry’. As soon as Claire turned away again, he grinned ruefully at Callum and shrugged. He couldn’t tell if his friend could make out the
gesture in the darkness, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

The streets never got truly dark in the City of the Imperium, but at four in the morning, it was as dark as it was going to get. The gigantic glow lamps that hung in the air far above the
streets were routinely dimmed in the small hours to save power, leaving the pathways between buildings gloomy and thick with eerie shadows.

As he clambered out of the underground passage and into the ominous silence of the street, Sam marvelled once again at the vast structures around him. This was a city of improbable angles, with
seemingly endless geodesic structures, all built within a gargantuan outer shell. In some ways it reminded Sam of how he had always imagined Atlantis. He found it quite easy to picture this city
sitting on the seabed, hundreds of metres below the surface of the water.

Nipper, Grunt and two smaller raptors that Claire called Einstein and Newton were accompanying Claire, Sherri and the two boys. Because the two boys understood nothing of the raptor language,
Claire had consulted with the rebel raptors and had given each of them a respectable name for the boys to use, before nicknames that she deemed unsuitable began to appear. As most of the raptors
had been scientists before joining the rebels, she had named each of them after a famous human scientist. Sam had struggled not to laugh when she had introduced them as: Einstein, Newton, Edison,
Crick and Watson. Callum, however, thought they were great names, and it had not taken long at all for the boys to associate them with the appropriate raptors.

The group had stayed underground for as long as possible as they travelled across the city, zigzagging through the underground labyrinth of tunnels like sewer rats until they were as close to
the Imperium laboratories as they could get. The building they were aiming for was apparently the raptor equivalent of a secondary school. Newton had assured them there would be no one in the
building at this time of night and, true to his word, getting inside did not prove difficult.

Sam and Callum crouched deep in the shadows as Einstein and Newton set to work on bypassing the magnetic locks on the doors and disabling the security systems. Nipper and Grunt positioned
themselves on either side of the boys, each laden with heavy equipment. Despite the obvious weight of their burdens, neither showed any sign of fatigue. Claire and Sherri watched the street in both
directions for any sign of trouble, but nothing moved.

There was a sudden
click
followed by a
swish
and the front doors to the building opened. They had done it. They were in. Without pause, Newton and Einstein slipped inside. Sam
scrambled silently to his feet and raced to follow with the others hard on his heels. The other raptors sped past him and disappeared into the building. Seconds later, they were all inside.

‘Good work, team!’ Claire whispered. ‘It looks like we made a clean entry. Now let’s get up to the roof. This is where the fun starts.’

‘Thanks so much for the lift. I really appreciate it,’ Niamh said.

‘You’re welcome. You sure you don’t want me to see you inside?’

‘No need,’ she assured him, hoping he wouldn’t insist. ‘It’s very kind of you, but I’ll just head inside and get myself cleaned up. Thanks again.’

‘Sure thing.’

Niamh stepped out on to the pavement outside the white wooden fence that surrounded the Lighthouse Court Hotel. She gave Bill a wave, hoping he would drive off, but he didn’t. It appeared
he was going to wait and see her enter safely
. Just my luck to meet a gentleman when I don’t need one,
she thought. The entrance to the hotel’s front garden was through a high
rectangular wooden frame that looked almost as if it should have a door set into it. The hotel itself was set back from the road, so at least she didn’t have to enter the reception lobby
straight off the pavement.

Once inside the fence, Niamh set off round the side of the building that housed the hotel reception. Hiding out among the bushes, she waited a few minutes and listened. She thought she heard
Bill’s pick-up pull away, but she waited a little longer, just to be sure.

As soon as she was certain that he had gone, Niamh nipped back out through the front gate and across the road to walk along the pavement outside the Ernest Hemingway Museum. The two-metre high
red brick wall that surrounded the writer’s house seemed almost out of place among the wooden fences and wooden-built houses that dominated Key West. She passed by the museum gate and
continued to the next junction.

A scruffy-looking artist, with his easel and a display of his work set out on the pavement, looked up and nodded as she passed. She returned the nod, instinctively picking up her pace a little
as she walked by. He looked comfortable in his knee-length shorts and sandals; far more comfortable than Niamh felt in the heat of the afternoon. Despite only having left the air-conditioned
environment of Bill’s truck a few minutes ago, she could already feel the first beads of sweat trickling down the middle of her back.

On the far side of the street the bottom metre of a square-cut telegraph pole had been painted white, and the street names were painted vertically downwards in black paint over the top.

‘Whitehead and Olivia,’ she muttered aloud. She looked right along the narrow pavement on Olivia Street. Cars lined this side of the road and trees from Hemingway’s garden
overhung the pavement. It was not wide enough to park cars on both sides. She didn’t know this area well, and for a moment she considered continuing along Whitehead Street until she found a
larger street with more people; wandering around the backstreets of Key West could be dangerous. But the longer she delayed, the less chance she had of catching up with Tony and getting to
somewhere the police were unlikely to find her. The shop next to Flamingo’s Café where she had seen him about six or seven minutes earlier was only about two blocks from here, but
there was no telling where he would be by now.

Don’t be a wuss!
she ordered herself.
You can’t do this alone. You need Tony’s help and you’ll never get Sam and Callum back unless you take some risks. Get
moving. Now!

Crossing the road, she turned right and began to trot towards Duval Street, her eyes darting around constantly for any sign of movement. Seconds later, she emerged from the narrow road into the
bustle of the busy tourist area and turned left. As her fear of meeting strangers on the quiet backstreet subsided, some of Niamh’s tension eased and she slowed back to a fast walk.

Now she was in the heart of Key West and, while it would not be at its liveliest until late evening, even in the heat of the late afternoon it was busy with people window-shopping. The pavements
here were wide. On either side of the street very few of the buildings seemed to be the same shape or size. However, one design facet that did seem popular was the white, ranch-style gallery
balconies above many of the shop fronts.

She scanned ahead for Tony and Tessa, barely needing to weave round people at all as she strode forward, but there was no sign of them. Niamh was still about a block and a half from where she
had last seen them from the car. It would only take a couple of minutes to get there, but she didn’t want to charge headlong into them. If possible, she needed to keep Tessa from seeing her.
Niamh had few doubts that Tessa would betray her to the police again in an instant if given the chance.

Ahead she could see the next junction. As she searched both sides of the street, something caught her attention that set her heart racing. At the next set of lights, just behind a white pick-up,
was a police car.

Niamh did not hesitate. She turned left and entered through the door of the nearest shop. As she stepped inside, she realised it was an art gallery. Several tourists were browsing the long,
narrow shop. Stepping straight past the nearest person, she positioned herself so that she could see back through the front windows.

‘Can I help you?’

It took a moment for Niamh to realise that the woman was talking to her.

‘No, thanks,’ she replied, moving around so she could keep eye contact while watching the road with her peripheral vision. ‘Just browsing. It’s my dad’s birthday in
a few days. I’m just looking for ideas.’

The police car cruised past and Niamh could not help switching her focus and following it with her eyes as it went by. The car was in view just long enough for her to see that there were two
officers inside. Was it just a regular patrol? Given the crawling speed they were doing as they passed, she felt sure they were looking for something, or someone – most probably her. Their HQ
would have radioed out that she was missing again by now.

I’ve got to find a way to disguise myself – and fast,
she thought.

She
had
to find Tony and get away from the centre of Key West; it was her best chance of evading the police. Darting out of the front door of the shop, Niamh turned left. Tony could be
anywhere by now. As she walked, she felt a prickling sensation down her back. Something was not quite right. On instinct she glanced over her shoulder and a cold shock of horror ran through her.
The patrol car had pulled to a halt a little way down the street. Its hazard lights were flashing and one of the officers was already out of the car and walking in her direction along the pavement
on the other side of the road. He wasn’t moving with any sense of urgency, so it seemed unlikely that he had spotted her.

Her body tensed, desperate to run, but the quiet voice of reason inside her mind said
Don’t. Running will draw his attention.

Barely able to breathe for the tension inside, she gritted her teeth against the pain and strode along the pavement, trying to disguise her limp. Determined not to look back a second time, she
concentrated on searching ahead for Tony and Tessa.

‘Please be easy to spot,’ she muttered. ‘Please.’

She looked across at the vertical street-name sign as she approached the next junction – Petronia. It was a narrow one-way street. She paused briefly to look to her right and then crossed
the road at a brief trot before slowing again when she reached the other side. Her ankle was throbbing, fit to explode.

‘Don’t look back,’ she breathed. ‘Just keep going.’

There he was! Tony was ahead. He was standing outside a clothing store on the far side of the street, leaning against one of the old-fashioned lamp posts that looked like they had been there a
hundred years or more. Tessa was looking in the window of the shop, her attention drawn by something on display. Niamh glanced at the sign above the door.
Evan & Elle,
she read. After a
moment, her brain registered the humour in the shop title and her eyes went back to it. She read it a second time and smiled. Given the state of her nerves, it felt good to smile.
I’ll bet
it was a Londoner who named that shop,
she thought.

Angling between some bikes that had been chained to stands and what looked like a newspaper dispenser, she stepped up to the kerb, looking both ways before making a quick dash across the road
through a useful gap in the traffic. During her scan for traffic, she noted that the policeman had fallen back a little way, but he was still moving along the road in her direction. She had to keep
moving.

Niamh walked right up to Tony and placed a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t seen her coming and jumped at her touch. As he registered who she was, his eyes widened with shock, but
Niamh’s warning look stopped him from speaking.

‘Outside Sloppy Joe’s – fifteen minutes. Alone,’ she ordered softly, barely slowing as she continued past him.

She itched to look back to see what he would do next. Although she barely knew Tony, she felt certain he wouldn’t disappoint her. Somehow he would meet her as she’d asked. In the
meantime, she would have to keep from being picked up by the police again.

Sloppy Joe’s was a fair walk. Was it five blocks or six? She should have given Tony more time. It was probably going to take her the full fifteen minutes just to walk there, but it was too
late to worry about that now. She couldn’t go back. Why on earth had she picked it? A famous tourist location, and a bar no less – they wouldn’t even be able to go inside and
talk! There were loads of places closer. Being a local, Tony would have known them all, but for some reason Sloppy Joe’s was the first name that had sprung to mind.