Black Tide Read online

  “Toby! Save me! I can’t swim!” shouted Tash from the cockpit. Toby assessed the widening gap between the two boats and realised that the motor boat was moving too fast for him to jump across.

  Oh no! Not in the water again!

  He arched his back and dived into the dark swirling waters of the harbour. If he didn’t reach the motor boat before it got to the harbour entrance, it would be smashed to bits, and Tash would be thrown into the icy water, and she couldn’t swim, and all the raiders would descend upon them.

  The cold hit his chest like a brick, and he felt the air being torn from his lungs. Choking, he took a deep breath and struck out for the boat. If he didn’t get there fast the cold would suck the very life from him.

  “TOBY! HERE!” Tash was leaning over the side, holding out a lifebuoy. He grabbed for it and felt her strong arms pulling it through the water and up to the boat. She grasped his jacket and hauled him over the side.

  “You’re safe now,” she cried.

  Shaking with the cold, Toby looked back to the shore. Two men were running towards the harbour with powerful searchlights, and AK47 rifles raised to their shoulders.

  “Raiders! Let’s get out of here!” Toby searched frantically for the keys to start the motor.

  “You looking for these?” Tash held them out to him.

  “Thanks!” he shouted back, pushing one into the ignition and bashing a black button on the controls. Luck was with him: immediately, the engine jumped into life, shaking the boat with its deep guttural rumble. He pushed the throttle gently forward, gripping the steering wheel, aware that this boat was completely different from Lady. One notch too far on the throttle would put them through the harbour wall.

  Steady. Now, don’t lose it – take it smoothly. This boat has a powerful engine. Like the difference between driving Dad’s old Land Rover and driving a Ferrari.

  As the boat swiftly accelerated, the harbour wall loomed. Toby spun the steering wheel hard to his right, swinging the prow out of danger, and throwing a massive wave up in the boat’s wake. The tower of water hit the harbour wall, knocking the two raiders clean off their feet.

  “YEAH! HIGH FIVE TO YOU, TOBES!” shrieked Tash, who had been thrown sideways onto the floor of the cockpit. “Amazing!”

  How did I do that? No idea! Well, I’ll pretend that I meant it!

  Just then a bullet whistled past his left ear and ricocheted off the shiny chrome rail of the cockpit.

  “GET DOWN, TASH! They’re firing at us!”

  “Put your foot down, Tobes!”

  “Here goes!” Toby tried to half squat to make a smaller target for the raiders, and he hit the throttle hard. He felt the powerful surge of the engine as the boat leapt forward, ploughing a wide path through the mouth of the harbour and out into the sea.

  The two of them stayed squatting down in the cockpit until the boat was well clear of the harbour. Toby was shaking so hard with the icy coldness of his wet clothes that his teeth were chattering. Still, he couldn’t resist a look behind him at the Lucky Lady. She was sitting alone, caught in the powerful searchlights that the raiders were sweeping across the dark waters. He felt a mixture of emotions: happy to have escaped and to be at last on the way to rescue his dad and Sylvie, and sad to say goodbye to his old boat.

  Goodbye Lady, I’m sorry to leave you behind but I’ve no choice. There’s no going back now. I just hope this boat looks after us as well as you did. I wonder if I’ll ever see you again?

  9. A New Boat

  The raiders’ searchlights splashed against the beach and the harbour walls, throwing strange patterns onto the foaming waves. Clouds scudded across the sky and revealed the full moon, bathing the scene in silvery light. Toby heard angry shouts as the raiders discovered the slashed sides on their inflatable.

  Ha! They won’t be chasing us in that!

  “Here, I found this,” Tash handed him a tartan blanket. He draped it around his shaking shoulders, rubbing his arms with one hand as he steered with the other.

  “Th-thanks,” he stuttered, through chattering teeth.

  “Look!” she pointed to the fort, which was lit from inside with an orange glow.

  “What the…” Toby eased off the throttle to slow the boat and get a better look. He felt they were reasonably safe from the clutches of the raiders now and anyway the Captain and his men had worse problems than he and Tash stealing their boat. “The place is on fire! Someone’s blown up the ammo store by the looks of it.”

  Surely it couldn’t be the dogs? Not even Cerberus is that clever?

  As Toby and Tash stood on the deck and watched, the whole of Fort George shook with an explosion ripping through its insides. An enormous ball of fire shot into the air above the high walls and burst into a series of mushroom clouds that the wind threw across the beach and over the sea. Toby and Tash gasped with shock as the vibrations of lesser detonations rumbled through the ground. Even the sea seemed to tremble.

  “NO!” cried Tash. “The caves! All Father’s work! All gone… buried… there’ll be nothing left.”

  Toby took her small brown hand in his and squeezed it.

  “You’d never have been able to go back anyway, Tash,” he told her. “The dogs will make good use of the fort – otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered taking it. I tell you, Cerberus has a plan.”

  “I don’t like this Cerberus,” Tash cried, her voice shaking. “I shall come back!” She sat down, her wolf mask slumped over her face.

  Toby wanted to tell her everything was going to be all right now, but he knew from experience that in this new world, nothing was predictable.

  “I’m really sorry about your cave,” he said, “I understand. It was your home for a while. At least now we know where to start looking for your father and mother and my dad and Sylvie. Just think, in a couple of days we could all be reunited. Wouldn’t that be great?” Toby tried to sound more positive than he felt.

  “We don’t know that my parents are in Fort William, and if they’re at this New Caledonia, we don’t know where that is. So I don’t know why you’re so cheerful,” she replied, grumpily.

  Toby turned and stared at the glowing skyline that threw Fort George into dark relief. There was shouting and screaming coming from inside the fort and Toby thought he could hear the dogs barking gruffly. Then, as the smell of burning cordite, molten metal and blackened wood drifted over them, he heard the noise of engines.

  “What?” The tunnel entrance, which led to the massive wooden door where he had first been caught at the fort, suddenly filled with light and the rumbling sound of vehicles being revved up. As they watched quietly, bathed in moonlight and the fiery red of the flames, they saw a convoy of lorries, Land Rovers and battered white vans race out of the tunnel and up the track. Their headlights danced crazily over the grass as they bucketed over the rough ground in their panic to get away from Fort George.

  “The dogs have driven the men from the fort!” cried Toby.

  He could see the dark shadows of the big dogs loping alongside the lorries and vans, as if taunting the men.

  The raiders tried to fire at the dogs through the van windows but the animals flicked in and out of the shadows, their great open jaws slavering with white saliva, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Toby almost smiled; he couldn’t feel sorry for the raiders but they had underestimated the power of Cerberus. They wouldn’t do that again.

  “I need to get out of these wet clothes before I catch pneumonia, and I need to find a map,” he said to Tash. “There must be maps somewhere on this boat. I’m going to have a look. Hold this steady for a mo’.” He motioned for her to take the steering wheel, and then went to explore. He pulled up the hatch next to the driver’s seat and lowered himself down steep steps to the cabin.

  Wow! This is posh! And clean. You’d never think a gang of raiders had been using it.

  Toby remembered his dad’s efforts to get him to keep the Lucky Lady tidy, but there had always been so m
uch to do: looking after Sylvie when she had been so dreadfully poorly; cleaning out her rabbit, Henry’s, hutch; feeding and cleaning out the chickens…

  You couldn’t keep chickens in here. They’d make a right mess.

  The boat had obviously belonged to someone very rich before the red fever, as everything in it was beautifully tailored to fit the small interior. It was lined with honey-coloured wood, polished to a warm gleam, and all the chrome rails and handles twinkled in the moonlight that shone through the portholes. Someone had loved this boat and looked after it.

  Toby’s dad had once taken him to a posh marina full of boats like this. They had been visiting Toby’s Aunt Helen on the south coast of England. His dad had bored him silly taking him round docks and harbours, eyeing the beautiful motor cruisers there with envy.

  I wish I’d paid more attention now. I’ve no idea about motor boats. Can’t be much different to Lady, surely?

  Glancing round, Toby spotted a map desk in the corner. Above it was a shelf neatly stacked with maps and books, and built into the wall was some radio equipment.

  There’s no radio network, so that’s not much use now, but there’s lots of maps. Maybe they’ve got the right one already out?

  A map was spread across the desk, weighted down with a small hand pistol on one side and a pair of handcuffs on the other.

  Toby groped around to find the switch for the small lamp; he knew that expensive power boats often had electrics that ran off a generator connected to the engines. He clicked it on and stared at the map’s squiggles and lines. He found Fort George easily enough and then traced his finger up the Moray Firth until he came to Inverness. That, he knew, was the start of the Caledonian Canal that led down Loch Ness, right across Scotland to Fort William.

  Fort William! Yes! It’s not that far, especially in this boat. This’ll go like the clappers. It’s ok, Dad, I’ll be there to rescue you soon. Poor Sylvie – I hope she’s not too frightened…

  Trying not to notice the wet puddles he had dripped onto the shiny floor of the cabin, Toby went to look for some dry clothes.

  “Look at these,” he shouted up the steps to Tash, having discovered a whole chest of beautiful sailing clothes: a pile of new polo shirts in green, blue and yellow; a stack of soft warm fleeces with cotton cuffs; several pairs of brightly patterned Bermuda-style shorts; and two pairs of white trousers with plaited leather belts.

  “Crikes! Who wears white trousers? They’d get filthy,” he yelled.

  Soon he appeared beside her in a pink polo shirt under a navy fleece, and a pair of navy fleece tracky bottoms. The clothes were all man-sized and drowned Toby’s slight frame. He rolled up the sleeves and trouser legs, then pulled on a smart waterproof jacket lined with pink cotton, and yanked a warm, navy bobble hat on his head.

  “Look at you, Tobes,” said Tash. “Ha! You do look funny! Like you’ve nicked your dad’s wardrobe.”

  “You call me ‘Tobes’,” Toby said. “That’s what my little sister, Sylvie, always calls me.”

  “You must miss her.”

  “Yeah, I really do. She can be a bit annoying at times, but she’s really sweet, and she reminds me of my mum. Anyway, how about some grub?” Toby quickly changed the subject. He didn’t want to have to explain his mum’s horrible accident.

  “Grub? What’s grub?”

  “Grub is food. I’m starving. There’s a really swanky galley kitchen down below.”

  “Well, I’m happy not to drive. This is a bit bigger than our rubber dinghy! I’ll go and find something to eat,” said Tash, climbing down the steps.

  Toby decided that he would cross the Firth and approach Inverness from the Black Isle side. From the map it looked as though the road running north from Fort George stayed close to the shoreline and he didn’t want the raiders catching sight of their boat. It was not long till dawn and then the boat would be easily seen.

  Better remember how sensitive the steering is. It’s nothing like Lady.

  The smart motor boat was built for speed and, though the living was luxurious and comfy, the cockpit was just three sides of glass and chrome, partly open to the weather. As Toby slid the throttle forward, he felt the cold wind sucking at the skin on his face, making it tingle with the salt spray. He swung the boat diagonally across the stretch of water, being careful to keep with the flow of the waves. The snowcapped mountains to the north-east of the Black Isle reminded Toby of the chocolate log his mum used to make for Christmas every year. She would let him and Sylvie stick little reindeer and a plastic Santa on it then dust it all over with icing sugar to make it look like a Christmas scene.

  I don’t even know when Christmas is – I might have missed it for all I know.

  Toby had loved Christmas with his family in their cosy cottage in Collieston. They had so many traditions, such as carol singing round the tree on the village green, hanging up their stockings at the end of the bed, and —

  Oh! For goodness sake, STOP! There’s no point in going over these things. Just think about something useful like how to get into the canal once we’ve reached Inverness.

  Toby knew that there was a big bridge to go under and then he would have to cross back over to the left-hand bank to search for the Caledonian Canal entrance. He just hoped that the raiders in their trucks and vans wouldn’t take a detour north and end up going over the Kessock Bridge the same time he and Tash were sailing under it.

  Tash appeared with a tray full of nibbles: packets of crisps, apples, peanut butter bars and some chocolate spread on crackers.

  “Great! That looks tasty,” enthused Toby, snatching up a juicy apple and taking a big bite.

  “Cupboards are full of amazing stuff. Lots of tins and packets AND fresh food.”

  “Hmm,” Toby mumbled through a mouthful of apple. “I wonder where they’ve got all that from. I haven’t seen an apple in ages.”

  “It looks to me as if they’ve just stocked up. Everything’s full. Look, even the fuel tank,” Tash pointed to the fuel gauge on the control panel.

  “Yeah, that was lucky for us. This is brilliant,” cried Toby. “I had no supplies left on the Lucky Lady, and no fuel either. This will get us to Fort William much faster than Lady could. And by the way, she’s called the Charlotte Rose.”

  “Pretty name for a pretty boat,” mused Tash.

  They were making good progress up the estuary heading towards Inverness, though Toby kept the speed slow so as to not use too much fuel. The boat’s two powerful engines would guzzle diesel and he didn’t know where they would be able to re-fuel next. It took him a few miles to get used to the boat’s sensitive handling, and he was just starting to relax, when:

  BANG!

  “What was that?” shouted Tash from down below.

  “I don’t know,” yelled back Toby, who had felt the steering wheel twist in his hands as something hard hit the prow of the boat. “Can you come and steer and I’ll have a look?”

  Tash appeared from the hatchway and took the wheel while Toby edged his way along the narrow walkway to the front of the boat. He hung onto the chrome rail round the edge of the deck, which felt slippery beneath his feet. He knelt down and looked over to see what it was they had struck.

  “I can’t see! I need to get a closer look,” he shouted over his shoulder, peering into the inky black of the deep waters. He shuffled closer to the edge.

  “BE CAREFUL!” shouted Tash from the cockpit. Just then a large wave crashed heavily against their starboard side, throwing the boat to the left, and Toby into the water.

  “Arrrrrrggh!” he screamed, desperately flailing with his arms to catch hold of something as he fell, but there was nothing to save him. He landed in the fast-moving water with a heavy splash, his open mouth filling with cold salty sea. His ears filled up, too, and the strong pull of the tide picked him up and carried him away from the boat. He tried to strike out with his arms to swim but the waves battered and sucked at him, taking his breath and his strength away. He kicked with his
legs but it was hopeless; he was being swept at great speed towards the centre of the estuary. As his head bobbed up and he gasped for air, the boat’s headlights threw shadows onto something large and solid ahead. He was being carried towards a giant concrete pillar that supported the huge metal towers of the Kessock Bridge.

  Keep your mouth closed. Keep kicking out towards the shore. Must keep trying… Mustn’t let Dad and Sylvie down… must…

  The force of the tide was spinning him round and round, till he felt dizzy and was gagging with swallowing so much water. Even if he didn’t get smashed into the bridge, he couldn’t last much longer in the freezing waves that lashed over his head and into his eyes, nose and throat. Toby felt his life slipping away as the cold numbed his brain and body.

  Sorry Dad… I’m so sorry to let you down again…

  10. Locks and Lochs

  Toby felt something push hard at his back. Had he struck the concrete pillar already? Whatever it was bashed at him again, but it didn’t feel like concrete. It reminded him of his dog, Monty, who used to push at him with his nose to get him out of bed in the morning. There it was again, only this time there were two nudges, one at his back and one at his side. Nudge, nudge, nudge, now another had started. He could feel himself being propelled through the dark water by something hard yet gentle, like the nose of a dog but bigger and…

  Dolphins! It was dolphins! He caught a glimpse of a silver-blue streamlined body streaking powerfully beside him. Then there was another and another. Three dolphins were pushing him carefully out of the tidal flow and towards the far bank under the bridge. He struck forwards with his arms to swim as the current slowed and he regained the use of his limbs.

  The three sleek creatures swam alongside him, guiding him as they plunged through the frothy white water, their beaks half open and a set of sharp teeth ridging their gums.