Chapter One

The sound came again, cutting through the night: a sharp, metallic tap that carried even up to the first floor of the house where Sam lay sleeping. Ella stood over him and listened for it again but all she heard was rain spattering against the window. There was a storm coming -- a fine start to the summer holidays -- but that wasn't the problem.

The problem was being alone in the house at ten o'clock at night looking after Sam. She wished now that Fin hadn't slipped out to see Billy but it was her own fault: She'd insisted he go, telling him Mom and Dad would never know as long as he was back before they returned from the pub.

But that could be ages. Billy's parents had gone with them, which meant Mom and Mrs. Meade would be yakking nonstop and Mr. Meade would be trying to talk Dad into buying a new car from his showroom or joining the Save-the-Lighthouse project. They wouldn't leave the pub before eleven and Fin would take his time, especially as she'd promised him she was all right.

But she wasn't all right. She was terrified.

The sound came again, downstairs. She crept to the door. At least she hadn't undressed for bed. She'd been thinking of it but she was still in the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers she'd slopped around in all day, and now she was glad of it. It made her feel less vulnerable -- though only a little.

She glanced at Sam. He looked so peaceful as he slept. She didn't remember sleeping like that when she was three and now, at thirteen, she hardly slept at all. She was scared of the dark, scared of the noises she heard in this ancient house, and now, after Mr. Fenner's lecture in assembly about the need to be vigilant with strangers, she was even scared someone was stalking her around the village, though she knew that must be ridiculous.

Tap!The sound came again. She knew she ought to go down and investigate. Fin would. He might be small for fifteen but he'd go straight down and look the thing in the face. She made herself walk to the head of the stairs. Below her the hall stretched away in eerie stillness. The lights were on but the house felt oppressive.

There's nothing wrong,she told herself, and started to walk down the stairs.It's just a storm coming.But it was no use. Polvellan was a house that had always frightened her even though she'd lived here all her life. It wasn't just that it was such an old building. There was something else, something she didn't understand; she felt uneasy here even when the others were around.

Tap!The sound snapped in the night again. She opened her mouth to call out and ask if anyone was there, then closed it again. If somebody was in the house, the last thing she should do was give herself away. She thought of Sam and wondered whether to go back and guard him.

No, check the downstairs rooms first. Make yourself do it. Then go back to Sam.

She tiptoed down to the foot of the stairs and looked about her. On the wall nearby was the photograph of Dad at the opening of his Newquay superstore. Next to it were the sketches he had made of the Pengrig lighthouse ten years ago before the cliff falls made it an endangered building. She ran her eye nervously over them, then scanned the hall as far as the front door.

Tap!She gave a start and looked to the left. The noise had come from the sitting room. There was no doubt about it. She stared at the door; it was ajar and the lights inside the room were switched off. She reached for the telephone.Call Billy. Get him to send Fin home.

But she drew her hand back. She had to master this. She had to check the noise out for herself. It was bound to be something simple. She walked to the sitting room door and gave it a push. It brushed over the carpet a few inches and stopped. She stared through the gap, then took a deep breath, pushed the door a little farther, and craned her head around.

The old room looked dusky but reassuringly familiar. Behind the drawn curtains she could hear the rain lashing against the window; but at least there was no one here. She pushed the door fully open and switched on the light. The features of the room sprang into focus: the piano, the fireplace, the armchairs, the sofa, the music stand with her flute beside it. She walked into the room.

Tap!She jumped. It was the window. Someone must be out there, hidden by the curtains. She hurried to the phone, picked it up and started to dial 911, then put it down. This was stupid. The tap wasn't regular. It might not be a person at all; it might be something trivial. What would Dad say if she called the police out for nothing? She strode to the window, pulled back the curtain, and burst out laughing.

It was nothing after all. A chain from one of the hanging flower baskets had broken loose and gusts were throwing it up at the window so that every so often the metal ring at the end struck the glass.Tap!There it was again. She chuckled and reached out to close the curtain, then froze in horror.

Reflected in the glass was a figure standing behind her in the doorway.

She whirled around. It was a man, a huge man built like a bear. He wore a black oilskin top and black waterproof trousers, all gleaming wet, and blue sailing shoes. The hood was up and fastened tight around the face, which was half obscured by a scarf over the mouth and nose. She took a step back.

"Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me."

The eyes stared darkly at her.

"What do you want?" she said.

"You," came the answer.

The voice sounded young but she had no time to think. He took a step toward her. She turned and dashed toward the bookcase. There was only one thing she could do but she had to do it now. He leapt after her but she reached the bookcase first, released the catch to the hidden door and slipped through. As she pulled the door after her, she saw his hands clutching for the gap.

She slammed the door shut and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. She couldn't stay here. He'd find the catch any moment and, besides, she had to reach Sam and get him out of the house. She hurried down the passage, feeling her way along the wall. It was too dark to see clearly but she knew her way from the old days when Fin used to dare her to go in. He loved having a house with a secret passageway; she hated it but it might help now.

She was halfway through already. It only went as far as the kitchen and she would have to brave the house again soon but it might buy time. She looked for the taper of light along the floor that marked the secret door in the kitchen wall.

There it was, just ahead. She felt around the paneling and found the catch. Behind her came a crash, a sound of stumbling. He'd found his way into the passage. She let herself into the kitchen and closed the door behind her. With any luck he wouldn't find his way out this end and have to go back to the sitting room. That might give her a few more seconds.

She ran through the hall as lightly as she could and up to Sam's room. He was still sleeping. She put a hand over his mouth and shook him. He stirred and looked up at her.

"Sam," she whispered. "Get up, quick!"

"Ella?"

"Sam, quick! We've got to get out of the house. And you're not to speak. Not a word. Okay? Come on."

She pulled at his arm but he resisted, still engrossed in sleep.

"Sam, please."

Somehow she pulled him out of bed.

"Teddy," he said, looking around.

"I've got him." She grabbed Teddy from the bed. "Come on. And not a word. Not a single word."

She took him by the hand and led him toward the door but it was no good. Already she could hear sounds at the foot of the stairs. She pulled Sam back to the bed and knelt down.

"Sam, listen," she whispered. "I want you to do something for me. Something that'll make me very proud of you. I want you to hide in your secret place and not come out till you hear Mommy or Daddy or Fin. Promise?"

"What for?"

"It's a game. A really important game. I know you can do it for me. Please, Sam. Please do it for me. Go and hide in your secret place."

Something in her face must have persuaded him because he turned without another word, opened the wall cupboard, and crawled into the back, then pulled the big box of toys across so that it hid everything except his face. She passed Teddy through to him.

"Good boy," she whispered. "And if anyone opens the cupboard door, I want you to keep your head down so they can't see you. It'll be such a good game. When you hear Mommy or Daddy or Fin, then you can come out."

"Ella?" His eyes were wide, unblinking. "Are you going away?"

She leaned into the cupboard and kissed him. "Just for a bit but I'll be back soon. Now be a good boy and don't make a sound."

He said nothing but she felt his eyes on her face as she closed the cupboard. She stood up, stole over to the door, and put her ear to it. No sound except the wind and the rain. She wondered whether she should try to hide somewhere herself.

No. If this monster searched the rooms for her, he might find Sam instead. She had to lead him away from the house. He wanted her anyway. She shuddered at the thought of what that might mean.

She heard footsteps creeping along the landing. They stopped. She slid to the side of the door so that she would be behind it if it opened. There was a long silence. The door opened a fraction. She sensed a huge form behind it; she sensed eyes peering, ears straining. She held herself rigid. The door opened wider and the figure entered the room. The face was still hidden by the hood and scarf. He took a step forward and stood by the bed, staring toward the cupboard.

She jumped out and pushed him hard in the back. He fell over the bed, but quickly recovered and turned. She raced through to the landing and tore down the stairs. Behind her came the pounding of footsteps. She reached the hall and charged toward the front door in the white heat of terror.

A hand seized her shoulder. She squirmed free and darted back down the hall. Again the footsteps thundered after her. She reached the kitchen, threw herself at the back door and wrenched it open. The hand caught her T-shirt and tugged her back. She wriggled free a second time and stumbled into the garden.

She was screaming now, screaming at the top of her voice. She plunged over the grass, struggling blindly toward the gate. If she could just get to the Meades' house...

But it was no good. He was already racing around the drive to cut her off. He reached the gate well ahead of her and turned to face her. She stopped in the middle of the lawn, the rain driving into her face, and saw him close upon her again.

Desperately she looked around her, searching the garden for sanctuary, but all she saw was tawny shapes moving like reeds in the darkness. She turned and fled toward the stable, knowing nowhere else to go. The building rose before her but she ran around as far as she could before the hedge stopped her. From inside the stable came the sound of Biscuit snorting.

The figure appeared at the side of the building. He wasn't running now. He didn't need to run. They both knew she couldn't escape. She stood there, her back to the hedge, her face, hair, clothes drenched. The figure moved toward her.

"What do you want with me?" she said. Her voice was snuffed away in the wind. She shrieked: "What do you want with me?" He didn't answer and simply moved closer. She stared in dread, in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. This didn't happen to people like her. It happened to other people.

But it was happening. Now. She had to escape. He mustn't catch her, touch her, hurt her. She feinted to the right and raced to the left, straining to get past him. He caught her by the waist and picked her up like a doll.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed. "Leave me -- "

He dropped her to the ground, rolled her onto her front and thrust a knee in her back. She felt her hands whisked behind her and bound, a gag slipped over her mouth, then she was jerked to her feet and pulled, half stumbling, up the slope.

She moaned and retched, struggling to escape, but it was no good. Her arm was locked in a grip so savage she felt it would crush her. She had to do something. Anything. She let her knees buckle and flopped to the ground.

"Get up!" he said. She didn't move. She couldn't move. She was too terrified to move. He pushed her face into the grass and she felt the knee in her back again, and this time his whole weight. "Do that again," he said, "and I'll break your spine."

He yanked her to her feet, tugged her to the front door of the house and pushed something through the mail slot; then he turned and pulled her toward the gate. She followed meekly. She was no longer resisting. She was simply crying. Crying as the rain drove into her face, crying as the gate opened before her.

Crying as he took her away.

Copyright © 2001 by Tim Bowler

Chapter Two

Fin stopped outside the house, breathing hard after running up the hill from Billy's and soaked through from the rain. He was later than he'd intended to be but the Meades hadn't come back, so Mom and Dad should still be out. He stared at the gate.

That was strange. He'd made a point of closing it after him and no one in the house would leave it banging in the wind like this. Someone must have come by. He hurried through, closed the gate after him, and ran up to the front door, digging in his pockets for the key.

Typical. He'd forgotten it -- again. He'd have to ring the bell. He reached out, then changed his mind. No point in waking Sam. With any luck Ella would still be up and in her room. He ran around the side of the house and stared up at her window. The light was on.

"El! Let me in!"

No answer. He heard a thud to the right. The back door was open, banging like the gate. He raced over and stopped on the threshold, peering in. The kitchen light was on and everything looked normal, but he sensed something was wrong. He stepped cautiously in.

"El?"

All was silent in the old house. He hurried through to the hall. "El? Sammy?" He was shouting now as fear overtook him. "Where are you?" Silence. He reached the foot of the stairs and stopped. On the mat inside the front door was a slip of paper with writing on it. He picked it up and the words came at him like blades.

TELL A SOUL AND SHE'S DEAD.

WE'LL BE IN TOUCH.

"No!" he said. He leapt up the stairs and into Ella's bedroom. It was empty. He tried Sam's room. Empty. Mom and Dad's room. Empty. "El? Sammy?" He charged back to the landing and raced through the house, checking all the rooms. They were not there. He slumped to the floor in the hall. What had he done? He'd gone out and left them and this had happened. He looked at the note again.Tell a soul and she's dead.No mention of Sam, yet there was no sign of him. He had a thought, thrust the note into his pocket, and bounded up the stairs to Sam's room.

"Sammy? You hiding?"

He didn't wait for an answer but simply pulled open the cupboard door and thrust the box of toys to the side. Sam was not there. He felt tears breaking out. This was all his fault. If he'd been here, he could have done something and now...

He ran down to the hall and picked up the phone. He had to get in touch with Mom and Dad. They'd probably be having coffee with Mr. and Mrs. Meade. He dialed the number and waited. "Hello?" said Billy's voice.

"It's me."

"Fin?"

"Yeah. Are Mom and Dad there?"

"No, no one's back yet. There's only me and Angie here."

"Oh."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Fin remembered the note. He mustn't give anything away, especially to a chatterbox like Billy. "I just wanted to..." He thought for a moment. "I just wanted to ask you and Angie not to let on I've been over this evening."

"You asked me that earlier. I told you, it's no problem."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. Listen, I'll see you. Okay?"

"Okay."

He put the phone down and checked his watch. Eleven o'clock. The pub would be closing but they might still be there. He found the number and dialed it.

"Coppa Dolla?" came the answer.

"Mr. Langworthy?"

"Speaking. Who's that?"

"Fin Parnell."

"Oh, Fin. Thought I recognized the voice. How are you?"

"Er, fine."

"Stormy old night, eh?"

"Yeah. Are Mom and Dad there?"

"No, they just left with Stuart and Sarah Meade. Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"No." He tried to calm himself. "No, everything's fine. It was just...well, it wasn't anything important."

He put the phone down, walked up to Ella's room and stood by the window. Below him the garden looked dark and forbidding. His eye fell on the stable. He ought to check that just in case. Biscuit was always jumpy when there were storms and if Ella had gone out to reassure him, Sam just might have gone, too. He ran downstairs and out of the back door into the garden. The rain had eased but the wind was still gusty and the night sky restless. He stopped outside the stable and called out.

"El? Sammy? You in there?"

No answer, save a whinnying sound. He entered the stable and Biscuit shuffled over.

"Have you seen them, boy?" He stroked the horse distractedly, his eyes searching everywhere, but there was no one here. Biscuit flicked his head back, then moved forward, nuzzling. "Where are they, boy?" Fin held him close. "Where are they? Please, where are they?" He felt despair closing upon him like a phantom -- black, formless, terrifying -- and he wanted to run, scream, strike out at it. He heard the sound of an engine in the lane and raced out. Mom and Dad's car was by the gate into the drive, the beam from the headlights thrown over the lawn. He gave a start.

Caught in the light just a few yards up the slope were marks in the soggy grass. He sprinted forward and knelt down. Beneath him was a confusion of footprints and farther up a flattened area, as though a body had rolled on the ground. He looked toward the lane and shouted. "Mom! Dad!"

Dad was opening the gate for Mom to drive the car in but he turned at once. "Fin? That you?"

"Yes!"

"Where are you?"

"By the stable!"

"You all right?" Dad came running over. "What's up?"

"Ella," he spluttered. "She's been kidnapped. And Sam's missing, too."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know."

"But you were here. You must have seen -- "

"I wasn't here." Fin looked down. "I...I went down the road to Billy's."

"You what?"

He didn't answer, didn't look up, couldn't look up.

"You bloody fool," said Dad. "You bloody fool."

Mom arrived breathlessly. "Peter, what's happened?"

"Ask Fin," said Dad.

Fin felt Mom's arm around his shoulder. "Darling, what's happened?"

"It's my fault," he said, struggling to control himself. "It's my fault."

"Shhh! Easy now. Whatever it is, we'll sort it out together. Come on. We'll talk about it indoors."

"But these marks -- " He pulled away from her and pointed to the ground. "You need to see them. They're clues. They're -- "

"Later," she said. "We'll talk first. Come on." She put her arm around him again. "Inside."

She steered him back to the house, sat him down at the kitchen table and pulled up a chair for herself. Dad stood over them, scowling.

"Now, then," said Mom. "What's happened?"

"Ella's been kidnapped and Sam's missing."

"What?" She jumped to her feet. "Are you serious?"

He pulled out the note, tears swelling in his eyes again, and gave it to her. She read it at a glance.

"Oh, my God!" She thrust the note into Dad's hand and started pacing the floor. "How did this happen?" She seized Fin by the arm. "You must have seen something?"

"I didn't." He was sobbing now. "I didn't...see...anything."

"He was at Billy's," said Dad.

"What?" said Mom.

"It's true," said Fin. He put his hands over his face. "I went to Billy's. I know I shouldn't have. I got back and found the note on the mat. There was no one here. I...I looked in every room. I even checked Sammy's cupboard." He swallowed hard. "It's all my fault -- "

"You're damn right it's your fault!" said Dad. "What the hell did you go to Billy's for?"

"He's got a new computer. He wanted to show it to me. I was only going to stay a few minutes. El said she was okay on her own."

"But she's not okay on her own! You know she hates being alone in the house."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry."

"How could you, Fin?" said Mom. "How could you leave her?"

"She told me she was all right. She insisted."

"That was just talk!" Mom shook him. "You should have known that! You should have thought!" She let go of him and looked at Dad. "We've got to call the police."

"We can't. That could cost Ella her life. You've read the note. If they see the police rolling up, they'll kill her. They've said they're going to get in touch. We've got to keep our heads till then."

"But we can't just sit here!"

"Calm down, Susan."

"Calm down?" She glared at him. "Sam and Ella are missing and you tell me to calm down?"

"I'm just saying..." He took a slow breath. "I'm just saying we can't go to the police. Not yet anyway. It's too risky."

"But we can't just do nothing." She slumped into a chair, biting the ends of her fingers. Dad put a hand on her shoulder.

"The note only saysshe, so Sam could be somewhere else. We can't call the police out but there's nothing to stop us looking for ourselves."

Mom jumped up at once. "Right, come on."

"No," he said. "Not you."

"But -- "

"Wait." He held her still. "Someone's got to stay here in case the kidnappers call." She looked at him, her hands shaking. He stroked her arm. "Try to calm down," he said. "We'll only make things worse if we lose our heads."

"What do I say to them if they call?"

"Find out what they want. Try to get to speak to Ella. Just...I don't know...just do what you think's right." He fired a glance at Fin. "You'd better come with me. See if you can do some good. And bring your flashlight."

Fin wiped his eyes and stood up. Mom caught him by the hand.

"Fin?"

He looked away, unable to face her.

"Fin, give me a hug."

He turned back and they held each other for a moment, then she kissed him on the cheek. "Go on. Get out of here. Peter, leave your mobile on."

"Okay." Dad nodded to Fin. "Let's go."

Fin sat in the car, numb with guilt, not trusting himself to speak. Dad backed them into the lane and they headed off down the hill, the squalls buffeting the car all the way.

"We'll check the village first," he muttered. "If we don't see anything, I'll have a look in the fields around the house and you can try the coastal path and the cliffs. Though I hope to God neither of them have gone that way."

The Meades' house appeared on the right, the upstairs lights all on. Fin thought of Billy, no doubt still hunched over his computer, and turned away, unable to look. They raced as far as the village square and Dad pulled over.

"See anything?"

Fin stared through the gloom at the shop, the church, the school. There was no one to be seen. The lights were still on in The Coppa Dolla but there were no cars outside. He shook his head. Dad turned onto the Newquay road.

"We'll try this way for a bit. Keep your eyes peeled."

They drove on, scanning the hedgerows as they flashed past, but there was no sign of anyone. Dad stopped at Ivor Brown's forge and backed into the entrance.

"No point going any farther. We'll try the fields and the coastal path. If they're not there, we'll take a look down in the cove."

They drove back to the village square and headed for Polvellan. Fin forced himself to speak.

"Dad? Shall we go in and see if Mom's got any news?"

"She'd have called." The answer came curtly back. Fin looked away, fighting his emotions again. He knew this was all his fault. Mom and Dad were right. He should never have left Ella by herself. They all knew she was scared of the old house. He pictured her face as he'd last seen it. She'd seemed so confident and happy, so eager for him to go. He should have seen she was just trying to be brave; and now she was gone, and Sam was missing, too. If they were dead, he'd never forgive himself, and Mom and Dad would never forgive him either.

Dad drove past Polvellan to the end of the lane, pulled over, and switched off the engine. Grassy fields stretched away on either side, wet and glistening in the somber air. Fin stared at the forked track in front of them -- left to the cove, right to the coastal path along the cliffs -- and waited for instructions. Dad reached for the car flashlight.

"I'll try the fields. You check the coastal path. But listen -- " His voice softened for the first time. "Be careful. I don't want you going missing

"as well."

"Okay."

"Meet back here in half an hour. I'll leave the passenger door unlocked."

They climbed out of the car and switched on the flashlights. The wind was gustier than ever now that they were close to the cliffs and the rain was starting again. Dad clambered over the gate into the field on the left and vanished into the darkness. Fin set off toward the cliffs.

It felt spooky here. He'd never been this way at night before. He often came during the daytime, especially to wander down to the Pengrig headland and see the endangered lighthouse. It was only a ten-minute walk from home and there were never too many people around, so it was a great place for thinking. He loved the view of the sea and, unlike more exposed parts of the coastline, the cut of the land offered enough protection for dense bracken to grow all the way down to the coastal path. The cliff falls of the last few years had only added to the attraction of the place. But now, as he made his way through the storm toward the end of the track, he felt small and vulnerable and alone. He walked to the end of the rise and saw the land dip away.

There was the sea, bright with whitecaps; there were the cliffs; there was the coastal path; and there, running beside the bracken into the driving rain, was a small figure.

Copyright © 2001 by Tim Bowler

---

Excerpted from Storm Catchers by Tim Bowler
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.