“I don’t understand it,” muttered Ryan, walking beside George. “He just turned and left with that…that…
thing and basically said that it was his only friend. I mean, seriously!”
“Well, he does have a point,” replied Keith, running up behind them. “We have been excluding him in pretty much everything we do.”
“Yeah, okay, true,” replied Ryan sullenly.
* * *
On the last day that they were in Scotland, there was a horrible thunderstorm, complete with pouring rain, flashing lightning, roaring thunder, and heavy winds. The lads all stayed inside that last evening, sitting around a fireplace, talking about everything that had happened. Only Paul was absent—he had gone to his room as soon as he returned and had not come out since.
After a particularly explosive boom of thunder, they heard a soft click come from the hall. Turning around, they were all surprised to see Paul walk out in a thick raincoat, pants, and a hat in his hand.
“Where are you going?” asked George, leaping to his feet. “It’s horrible outside, and near midnight!”
Paul merely glanced in his direction before donning boots and walking out of the house, ignoring the protests of his friends.
They were all on their feet, staring at the closed door where Paul had just walked out of.
“We have to go after him!” cried Damien. “We can’t just let him go out in that storm!”
“He’s probably going to see Storm again,” said Ryan bitterly. “Seriously, why? It’s just a weird sea monster.”
“Ryan, I can understand where you’re coming from, but we didn’t really give him much of a choice with the way we were ignoring him those first few weeks.” This came from the sensible voice—George. “But Damien’s right; we have to go find Paul before he does something in this weather.”
* * *
The water was raging, the high waves crashing against the tall cliffs.
Paul ran along the rocks near the shore, stopping at the dock. This was the last time he was going to be able to be with Storm, and with this weather, he was worried that something might happen to him. Of course, he knew that that was just an excuse—he wanted to ride the magnificent creature one last time.
He did not even need to call the water horse—he was already there, swimming towards him, nudging his pockets in search of apples. Finding one, he practically tore out the lining trying to get it out.
“Easy there, fella,” murmured Paul softly, sliding onto the smooth back. He could hear the others coming up, hollering his name, but he ignored them, instead urging the huge creature to race forward and under into the black waters.
Paul had never been on Storm in the middle of the night, and especially not during a storm. It was wonderful! They sped through the water, dodging fish and swimming among the shipwrecks. After about five minutes they surfaced for air, leaping into the air while jumping over a rowboat that had torn away from the docks.
Coming down, however, Paul saw that the rowboat was not empty. His eyes widening in fear, he realized that he and Storm were going to flip it over when they were back in the water simply with the wave created.
Two pairs of blue eyes stared back at him in horror.
Ryan and Damien were in that boat.
* * *