168mph … 167mph … 166mph … 167mph …

The crew groans.

Wilkins grits his teeth. Wasn’t enough … not nearly enough. He lets out a frustrated breath. ‘Conn, radio. Contact ESMA headquarters. Alert them the weather net has failed to cap the storm.’

South Beach, Florida
Friday Afternoon

The surf laps gently along a deserted stretch of beach. The sun beats down upon a coconut tree, a gust of tropical air causing one of its fruit to fall. Sandpipers dip, then soar away, racing inland.

Immanuel Gabriel opens his eyes.

He is strapped within the bucket seat of the Amphibian, which has beached itself on shore. Releasing the shoulder harness, he turns around to face Lauren, who is strapped in the seat behind him. ‘Lauren? Lauren, wake up.’

She opens her eyes, spitting a strand of hair from her mouth. ‘Oww, my head … what happened?’

‘We got zapped by a taser. I managed to activate the autopilot before it hit us. Looks like we made it to Miami.’

He climbs slowly out of the cockpit, then helps her from her seat.

She hugs him, laying her head wearily against his chest. ‘Why were you at NASA?’

‘God, don’t ask. It was sort of, I don’t know … call it a family obligation. I’ll tell you about it later. What were you doing there?’

She pulls herself from his embrace. ‘I’m in real trouble. Someone killed Professor Gabeheart, and now they’re after me!’

‘Whoa, slow down. Who’s after you?’

‘Government thugs. Something’s happening in Yellowstone. We have to go public—’

ATTENTION.

They look up, startled.

It is a PAWS (Public Aerial Warning System), a flying vehicle operated by the Earth Systems Management Agency to assist in evacuating populated areas prior to storms.

THIS AREA HAS BEEN CLOSED BY ORDER OF THE ESMA. EVACUATE THE AREA AND REPORT TO A STORM SHELTER IMMEDIATELY OR FACE PROSECUTION.

‘Super-Cane Kenneth—I completely forgot.’

‘Come on.’ Sam climbs back in the Amphibian and tries the power switch.

Nothing.

‘Fubitchshitting piece of junk.’

DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE?

‘No, no, we’re waiting to re-charge.’ Lauren activates the battery re-charger, then drags him out of the boat. The two hurry off the beach.

PAWS keeps pace, hovering twenty feet above.

She whispers frantically in his ear. ‘They’re watching both of our apartments.’

‘Who’s watching?’

‘Them! The guys who killed Gabeheart.’ She digs her nails into his arm. ‘One of them came for me in the lab. I hid under the computer decking. I heard him say they were watching my dorm. If they find me, I’m dead.’

They exit the beach, crossing Collins Avenue. South Beach is deserted. There is no traffic, not a single car or street vendor present.

‘Kind of spooky.’

‘Sam!’

‘Okay, okay—’ He looks around, then pulls her beneath a floating walkway. ‘All right, start from the beginning.’

Lauren tells him everything, showing him her scarred hand.