Stormdragons

Chapter 1

Pete Copsey shook his head in disbelief. In all his years at sea he had never known a storm like it. A few minutes ago the sky had been blue and the sea calm. Now rain fell like pellets from thunderous clouds, gale-force winds tore at the sails, and the sea was a heaving mass of wave and foam.

Pete had been a good sailor once. He knew this storm spelt danger. He tied off the steering wheel, lifted the lid of a deck locker and took out an orange lifejacket. The wind tried to snatch it away from him. He held on tight. The lifejacket jerked this way and that in his hand. Eventually, he managed to pull it over his head and clip the strap around his waist.

His hands shook. He'd been sober for four weeks and three days. But he was afraid now and fear brought back his thirst. He promised himself a drink or two when he got home - if he got home.

The storm raged around him. The sailing boat was plunging and rearing like a horse determined to unseat its rider or die in the attempt. Streams of water seethed across the deck. Pete cupped his hands around his mouth.

'Toby,' he shouted. There was no reply. He shouted again, at the top of his voice.

'Toby, for goodness' sake man. All hell's broken loose up here.'

Hearing no answer, Pete grew anxious. The door to the cabin was swinging wildly on its hinges, opening and slamming with enough force to remove a man's fingers. Toby Pascoe, the owner and skipper of The Lazy Susan, was the only other person on board. The thought that he might be injured or unconscious filled Pete with panic and dismay.

'Toby,' he shouted for the third time.

Again there was no reply.

Pete was very reluctant to leave the stern. He had seen too many men lose their balance on a wet deck in a high wind. The last thing he needed now was to split his head on a doorway or break his arm in a fall. So he resumed his grip on the steering wheel and carried on shouting.

Moments later Toby emerged from the cabin, a waterproof bag slung over his shoulder. He waved to Pete and began to make his way carefully towards him, holding onto the side rail. The wind fought him every step of the way. The rain soaked him. Water, ankle-deep, hissed across his boots.

As Toby approached, a sheepish grin spread across his bearded face.

'Sorry, Pete, my fault,' he shouted. 'But I think I've put it right.'

Now Pete was totally confused. How could the storm be Toby's fault? And how could he put it right?

Toby grabbed a lifejacket from the locker and joined Pete at the wheel.

'Bet this reminds you of good times, eh, Pete?' he shouted.

'Sure, if you count being cold, wet and scared as good times,' Pete shouted back.

Toby laughed.

'Don't worry. It'll blow over in a minute or two. We'll ride it out easily enough,' he said confidently.

Pete nodded. Toby was a superb sailor. If anyone could keep them afloat in this freak hurricane, it was Toby Pascoe.

But despite Toby's reassuring words, the wind seemed to be growing stronger. Every strut, cleat and bolt on the boat was humming with the strain. The sail was stretched to breaking point. It groaned along the length of the boom, desperate to rip itself free.

Toby lifted the waterproof bag from his shoulder.

'Here, hold this while I put the lifejacket on. Then we'll lower the sail,' he said.

He handed Pete the bag.

'Don't drop it, Pete. There's something very special in there, magical even.'

Pete released one hand from the wheel and took hold of the bag.

'It's not brought us luck, whatever it is,' he muttered.

Toby patted him on the shoulder.

'I'll show it to you when we get ashore. You'll be fascinated. But it'll have to stay our secret. I think someone's been trying to steal it from me.'

Toby turned his attention to the lifejacket.

'I'm getting too fat for these,' he said with a laugh.

As Toby wrestled with the lifejacket, the two men heard a noise like a thunderclap. A huge shadow passed over the boat. Then another. Pete looked up.

'Great, merciful heavens!' he croaked.

Even in his deepest, most drunken nightmares, Pete had never seen creatures like the ones now circling above his head. They were massive, hideous, terrifying. He stood transfixed, gazing up in awe and terror. At that moment the next wave struck. Eleven tons of water crashed against the side of the hull. The boat shuddered.

Pete was thrown off balance. He lost his grip on the steering wheel. Frantically, his hands reached out to grab something solid. They grasped nothing but air. He toppled overboard into the heaving sea.

The water was freezing cold. It drove the air from his lungs. For what seemed an eternity Pete's world consisted of nothing but darkness and bubbles. Then the lifejacket got to work and brought him to the surface. Gasping and wretched, terrified of what he had seen and might see again, he opened his eyes and blinked them clear of water.

To his great relief the creatures were nowhere to be seen. But nor was The Lazy Susan. Pete looked left and right. No sail. No upturned hull. Nothing. The whole boat, and Toby with it, had vanished, as if plucked from the face of the earth.