by Mark Robson
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.
His throat felt so dry that it was all but shut, so he didn’t protest when Leah dragged him away from his machine and along the path to the house to get a drink. She asked again about Brad and Sam on the way, but Callum dodged the question again by pointing at his throat and coughing. After drinking several cups of fruit juice in quick succession and taking a few bites out of a KFC fruit, it was his turn to become insistent. He did not want to risk leaving the flying machine in the open for a moment longer than necessary. Taking the rest of the fruit with him, he returned to watch the aircraft while Leah bustled away to find some help. She did not take long.
‘Here we are, Callum,’ she called as she approached with two of her neighbours. ‘Andy and Rhoda have kindly agreed to lend us a hand.’
After quick introductions and several complimentary comments about his aircraft, the four of them lifted and dragged the machine the short distance to the treeline. They turned it round and backed the fan section into the trees, but the wings were too wide to fit.
‘Thanks, guys,’ Leah said, shaking the hands of her neighbours gratefully. ‘We’ll just have to leave it part-exposed for now. Callum, we’ll get up early tomorrow and see what we can do to secure and cover up the rest of it.’
‘Thanks, Leah,’ he replied. ‘But there’s no need. I’m going to be flying it out of here early in the morning.’
‘You are? But the storm – you could get caught up in it.’
‘I know. That’s the idea, Leah,’ he explained. ‘I’m going to fly out into the heart of it and try to get home.’
Leah’s eyes went wide and her hands flew to cover her mouth.
‘Oh no, Callum! I can’t let you do that! It’s madness! You’ll get yourself killed for sure. Surely Brad didn’t approve of this?’
‘No, he didn’t,’ Callum said sadly. ‘Leah, I hate to be the one to bring such terrible news, but Brad isn’t coming back. He was killed on the way to the City of the Imperium. There was nothing we could do to help him. I’m so sorry.’
Leah’s face froze in a mask of hopelessness that made Callum’s heart feel like someone had stuck a knife through it.
‘And Sam, Nipper and Grunt?’ she asked, her tone heartbroken.
‘Are all alive, though they’re in a lot of trouble with the Imperium,’ Callum told her.
‘Well, that’s somethin’,’ she said, dashing tears from her cheeks and trying to look brave. ‘You mustn’t go, Callum. You’ll die too. I couldn’t stand it.’
‘I hope not,’ he said calmly. ‘I know it will be dangerous, but everyone I’ve spoken to agrees that crossings only occur over water in the eye of a storm, so that’s where I’m going. Someone has to be the first to cross back to where we belong. I’m determined that person will be me.’
There were an awkward couple of minutes as Leah tried again to talk him out of it, but she quickly realised that he was not going to change his mind.
‘Will it take more than one person?’ Andy asked.
‘Not rigged like this,’ Callum replied. ‘And at the risk of sounding selfish, I don’t have the time or skill to re-rig it to take two. But I promise you that if I make it through to Earth, I’ll try to arrange for someone to come back for you all.’
Andy nodded. ‘You’ll need a bit of muscle to get this thing back down to the firm sand in the morning, Callum,’ he said. ‘I’ll come and give you a hand.’
‘That would be brilliant, thanks,’ Callum replied gratefully. ‘Shortly after first light if you don’t mind. I’d rather get airborne before the wind gets up. I’ve not flown much in strong winds and the tricky bits about flying are always the taking off and the landing. Once I’m in the air, I should be fine.’
‘No problem. We’ll see you tomorrow then. It sounds like you’re going to need to be well rested, so get a good night’s sleep, Callum.’
* * *
Leah looked terrible the next morning, but she insisted on coming down to the beach with Callum to see him off. Callum suspected that she had not slept at all. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and her cheeks were blotchy from extended bouts of crying. She claimed that she had known Brad would not be coming back. How, she would not say, but she had thanked Callum for being brave enough to give her the bad news. The rest of his story had hardly been filled with joy: finding Sam’s mother only for her to fall victim to the Imperium shortly afterward, Nipper’s injuries, Sam’s decision to stay and follow in his mother’s footsteps and even David’s crash all added to the tale of woe, though he doubted much of it touched her. The loss of Brad was too immediate and all-consuming.
Callum felt guilty for piling all of these tragedies on her only to fly off and potentially add to her worries and grief. His success or failure would produce the same result for Leah. One way or the other, this was likely to be a final goodbye.
The breeze was already picking up and grey clouds raced overhead as they emerged from the path on to the beach. Andy and Rhoda were already there waiting.
‘Rather you than me,’ Andy commented, looking up at the dark sky.
‘Thanks!’ Callum replied sarcastically.
‘I’m just being honest. Yesterday I was jealous, but today . . . well. . .’
‘I know, Andy. It’s just I can’t decide how many of the butterflies in my stomach are nervous and how many are excited. I guess that’ll teach me not to eat so many caterpillars.’
&nbs
p; Andy and Rhoda both chuckled, but Leah’s face remained glum.
‘I know I’m probably mad for trying this, but it’s something I’ve got to do,’ Callum added, squinting first at the sky and then out to sea. ‘Somewhere out there is a way home. I’m going to go and hammer on the door until it gives in and lets me through.’
The shushing whisper of the sea had grown to an angry roar overnight. As far as the eye could see, the grey water was streaked with thick lines of creamy foam as roller after roller boomed and gushed towards the shore.
‘How will you find the eye of the storm?’ Leah asked in a hushed voice. ‘Once you’re over the water and the weather closes in, you won’t have anything to navigate by.’
‘If you stand with your back to the wind in the northern hemisphere, low pressure is always to your left,’ Callum quoted. ‘It’s a rule I learned at my gliding club back home. The eye of a hurricane occurs at the point of lowest pressure. So long as I keep flying with the wind blowing from left to right and allow for drift, I should fly straight at the middle of the storm. Should . . . that’s the theory anyway.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Andy said, taking a firm grip on the leading edge of the lower wing and nodding to the others to pull together. ‘You’re a brave lad. We’ll be praying for your success. You deserve to get home.’
‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’
Together they pulled, hauling the machine step by step until the surface became firm enough that the wheels began to turn freely. What the sand and salt water would do to the axles Callum did not want to imagine. However, so long as they worked for long enough to get him airborne, any damage he did to them was irrelevant. They turned the machine until it was facing into the wind and as they did, it felt strangely light, as if it was keen to get into the air.
Worried that a sudden gust might flip the machine on its back, Callum pulled out the steps, gave Leah one last quick hug and scrambled into the harness. Even with his added weight, the machine rocked and flexed with every fluctuation in the wind.
‘Thanks, Andy. Thanks, Rhoda,’ he called, reaching forward and shaking hands with each of them in turn before pulling the steps up on to the rail under his body and easing his goggles down over his glasses. ‘Goodbye, Leah. Take care. And if you see Sam, tell him to hurry up and follow me home.’
‘Take care, Callum. And good luck,’ she replied. ‘Here, don’t forget these.’
Grabbing a strut, she leaned in and tucked a leather flask of drink to the right of his chest and two whole fruits to the left.
‘Thanks, Leah – for everything.’
‘Good luck,’ Andy and Rhoda chorused.
Waiting just long enough for them to get clear of the wing tips, Callum flicked on both electromagnetic converters and felt the hum building through the harness as they began to feed electricity into powering the fan. Excitement surged through him as the machine began to creep forward. The wind was already tugging at his hair and clothing, and he was barely moving yet.
‘This is it, Callum,’ he breathed. ‘Do or die time.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The aircraft leaned slightly to the left as it began to roll forwards. Although this was disconcerting, Callum knew it was due to the mismatched wheels that David had fitted after his misadventure with the raptor and the tree. The sand surface was much flatter and smoother than the ground he had taken off from the previous day, making the lopsidedness more noticeable. During yesterday’s take-off, he had been bouncing around so much that he had been too preoccupied with keeping straight to notice the slight imbalance.
Today’s strong breeze was already providing considerable airspeed before he began moving, so although the lean was mildly disturbing, he did not have to worry about it for long. It seemed he had barely started moving before the wheels left the sand and the beach was dropping away below him.
Although the take-off run was more comfortable than the previous day’s, the same could not be said for the rest of the flight. Where yesterday the air had been smooth and warm, today the temperature was considerably lower, and from the moment Callum left the ground, he was bucked and bounced by turbulence. Close to the ground the airspeed indicator fluctuated wildly, giving him several heart-stopping moments as his airspeed dropped out of the bottom of the green zone only to race back up a split second later.
Callum shivered, already glad of Brad’s old waterproof mac as he levelled off at approximately one thousand feet above the beach. Leah had insisted he have it, as she felt sure that Brad would have wanted him to go into the storm prepared for the weather. His fingers were clamped tightly round the control bar as he rode out the lumps and bumps, and he had to keep telling himself to relax as he was already aware of the tension building across his shoulders and back.
To his surprise, when he turned the aircraft out over the sea, he discovered he had barely travelled any distance over the ground. As he had climbed, so the wind strength had increased until he was barely crawling forward at all. He waggled the wings as a parting gesture to the three waving figures on the beach below and then shifted his focus to the weather ahead.
It did not take long to realise that once he was over the water, it was all but impossible to assess how accurately he was tracking towards the middle of the storm. Flying directly across the wind would mean he would be constantly blown to the right and would cover a much greater ground track to his goal. To fly the shortest ground track, he needed to offset his heading into the wind to allow for the drift. This meant he would track forwards more slowly towards his goal, but fly a much more direct route and he would always have a good idea which way to fly to make landfall if he needed to.
Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that this safe method was not going to be an option. The wind was picking up so rapidly that even with his airspeed showing on the indicator at the top of the green sector, if he pointed directly into the wind, his aircraft would actually be blown backwards. His only option for reaching the eye was to accept the drift and keep flying with the wind blowing him left to right.
I’m like a tiny toy heading for the plughole in a bath, he thought. I’m going to spin round the hole until I get sucked into the centre, but what direction I’ll be heading when I get there is anyone’s guess.
The first grumble of thunder gave an ominous warning of what was waiting for Callum ahead. He had not seen the flash, but he knew from his experience on the boat with Sam that it would not be long now before the sky around him would light up with spectacular streaks of fire in a virtually constant display of pyrotechnics. What would happen if lightning struck his aircraft? He didn’t know. He had heard of aeroplanes being struck and continuing to fly to their destination, so it couldn’t be that bad . . . could it?
At the gliding club they had always avoided flying anywhere in the vicinity of thunderstorms, not because of the risk of lightning strikes, but because of the powerful up- and downdraughts associated with the storm clouds that caused extreme turbulence. The air currents around thunderstorms had been known to fluctuate so violently that they could tear aircraft apart in an instant. Gliders, with their long wingspans and lightweight construction, designed to soar on the lightest of updraughts, were particularly vulnerable. Callum looked around at the flimsy wings and lightweight struts and wires. He doubted this machine any better suited to fly into a storm than a glider. A cold knot of fear twisted inside him. Imagining bravely flying into a hurricane was one thing. The reality of it was something else.
Turning back was no longer an option. He had lost sight of land some time ago and there were no guarantees that turning the aircraft round and putting the wind on his right would take him back to land. He was committed.
‘Come on, you numpty!’ he urged himself as he eyed the ever-darkening sky ahead. ‘Fly smart. Try to steer between the thunderstorm cells. Stay airborne and stay alive.’
His teeth chattered as he spoke, though this was as much from fear as it was the cold. A moment later, the aircraft d
ropped like a stone, only to be flung back skyward as it met the first of many pockets of severe turbulence. Callum gasped. He had never experienced anything like it before. This was no small burbling bump. For a moment, he had the mental image of being a football in the hands of a goalie delivering a clearing kick. First the sudden drop and then the powerful boot from underneath that sent him sailing high through the air. One of the pieces of fruit Leah had tucked by his side came loose, shooting up to hit the fabric of the upper wing before punching down through the lower wing like a bullet. It ripped through one of the repair patches, leaving a loose corner fluttering.
He swore as he tried to regain control of the machine and settle it into a semblance of steady flight. Glancing left and right at the wings, he was almost surprised to see they were still there and intact after the brutal surge. The only damage seemed to be the fruit-sized hole in the fabric below him. ‘Sorry, but this is going to be a rough ride,’ he said, addressing his machine as if it could hear him. ‘Just hold together for me, will you? Please?’
He tucked the remaining fruit under his left hip, took a swig from the bottle and tucked that under his right. The cloud base began to drop and the first smattering of raindrops rattled across the wings and pattered against his mac and goggles.
‘Here goes nothing.’
Diving down until he was no more than a couple of hundred metres above the foaming waves, he scanned ahead for any sign of a passable route. There was nothing obvious. A flashing bolt of lightning speared down at the sea from a particularly dark area to his left. Seconds later, a crackling peel of thunder reached him, setting all the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. To his relief, the wind was carrying him away from that area, but the comfort that brought proved short-lived, as moments later, a similar flash and crash split the sky to his right.