Victoria backed against the wall, trapped and helpless. The seaweed
surrounded her, wrapping itself around her body. She could hear nothing but
its thumping pulse and the distant roar of the sea. Somewhere, she knew, Jamie
and the Doctor were looking for her; but when they found her, it would be too
late. She couldn't move, couldn't resist, couldn't even breathe...
With a gasp, she woke. Her heart was still racing, and it took a little
while for her to remember where she was, and to separate what she'd dreamed
from what was real.
She felt a comfortingly warm hand on her shoulder.
"Are you all right?" Jamie's voice asked.
"Just a bad dream," Victoria said, trying to sound unconcerned. The images
and sounds of her nightmare still felt terrifyingly close.
"Aye, it was the same with me. This isn't a good night for dreams."
"Or it's something in this place." Victoria pulled herself clear of her
tangled bedding, and sat up. "I dreamed I was back on that gas platform. You
know, when I was kidnapped. Except you didn't come and save me, and there was
seaweed all around me..."
Jamie sat on the bed beside her, and put his arm round her shoulders.
"It must be the sound of the sea," he said. "Getting into your dreams."
"Maybe. But... Jamie, can you be quiet for a little, please?"
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"There," Victoria said suddenly. "That sound. In the pipes. It sounded just
like that noise the seaweed made."
"Och, it's nothing. Probably just the cistern filling up."
"I suppose it could be. Perhaps Gia--" Victoria broke off, as a thought
struck her. "Jamie, where *is* Gia? If she's here she isn't making any noise
at all."
"Well, it's like this. Samantha woke us up and said she could hear someone
talking downstairs. And she said we'd been locked in. So Gia went off with
her and the other lassies tae see what was afoot."
"What? Jamie! Why didn't you wake me up and tell me all this?"
"Sam wanted to. But I said ye needed your sleep."
"No more and no less than the others, surely?"
"Well, that's what I thought, anyway."
"And when was this?"
"I canna really say. I've been asleep in between."
"Oh, Jamie!"
"Ye've been spending too much time with Zoë," Jamie said. "Ye sounded jist
like her then." He affected a falsetto voice. "'Oh, Jamie!'"
Victoria couldn't help laughing.
"You'd better not let her hear you do that," she said. "Anyway, you know
she'd be furious if she was the one you'd left asleep."
"Ah, well, she can look after herself."
"And I can't? Jamie, I think you'd better stop talking before you say
something *really* silly."
"All right. Next time I'll wake you up every time Sam--"
He broke off. Somewhere below, a two-stroke engine roared into life. Jamie
and Victoria both hurried to the window, in time to see the receding
tail-light of a motorbike, seemingly on the far side of the bridge to the
mainland.
"I'm going down there," Victoria said firmly. "Perhaps you would like to
accompany me, Jamie?"
"Now, hang on. We're locked in..."
"Then we shall have to resort to the fire escape."
"What's got into you all of a sudden?"
"Really, Jamie. The others could be in all sorts of trouble. We need to
find out what's going on."

The fire escape was nothing more elaborate than a rusty iron ladder, bolted
to the exterior of the hotel. The climb down had not been an easy one, but
once Victoria had started, she couldn't face turning back. Before long, she
was standing with Jamie at the base of the wall. The darkness was lifting
slightly; Victoria couldn't see her watch, but the night must be giving way
to early morning.
Almost before they'd reached the ground, they'd heard the sound of feet on
shingle. Jamie, his instincts seemingly taking over, pulled Victoria into
the lee of a decorative column. Vague figures were heading from the hotel down
to the seashore -- five men, perhaps, all roughly the same height and build.
"I'll see if I can get closer," Jamie whispered.
"All right," Victoria whispered back. "I'll look in the hotel."
"Be careful then."
Jamie dropped to all fours and began creeping in the direction the men had
walked. Victoria stood for a few moments, and then made her way to the main
door, moving silently on stockinged feet.
The front door was not locked, nor even on the latch; it swung open at
Victoria's touch. On the far side, the hall was just as she had seen it
before, its gaslamps still lit. Having a tidy mind, Victoria closed the door
behind her.
While she looked around, wondering whether there was anything to
investigate, the distant sound of running water came to her ears. Given
their surroundings, she nearly wrote it off as something outside, but as she
listened more closely, it became clear that it wasn't. It was somewhere in
the hotel.
Still moving slowly and cautiously, she headed in the direction of the
sound.

Crouching on the shoreline, masked from view by one of the sheds, Jamie
watched as the men he'd been trailing carried some kind of black lightweight
boat into the sea and climbed aboard. As soon as the last man had boarded,
the boat began to glide slowly out to sea, with no more than a quiet hum of
electric motors.

Victoria paused at the corridor junction, waiting for her eyes and courage
to adapt to the darkness. Even to get this far, she'd had to feel her way
along the wall. The sound of flowing water still seemed as far away as ever.
Now and again there was an occasional clang from the plumbing, and that, too,
sounded as if it came from the same direction.
She took a deep breath and a step forward. It was nearly her last; her foot
came down on something that rolled away, throwing her off-balance, and she
ended up in a heap on the floor. It was the merest chance, she realised, that
she hadn't cracked her skull against the wall or floor.
Whatever it was she'd trodden on, it was still around here somewhere. After
a lot of groping in the dark, she found it. It was more or less cylindrical,
something over an inch in diameter, rubbery to the touch, with a switch
halfway along, and glass at one end. Surely a torch?
She turned the switch on, and sighed with relief as light and form returned
to her world. Now she could see the torch, it looked identical to the one
Samantha had been using earlier. Was it hers, and if so, what had happened to
her?
There was certainly no excuse for delay now. With renewed urgency, she
set off.

Jamie continued watching until the boat was out of sight and hearing, which
didn't take very long in the darkness. Then he waited for a few minutes, just
in case the boat returned. It didn't, but there was a vague suggestion of
something happening offshore; perhaps they had a ship waiting out there for
them.
He set out for the hotel, deep in thought.

Victoria pushed the door open and shone her torch down the stairs. Here was
the water, right enough -- and her missing companions.
"Hey," Samantha called, her eyes closed against the glare of the torch.
"Who's that?"
"Victoria."
"Great. Look, we're tied up. Can you get us out?"
"Of course."
Victoria set the torch down carefully on the top step, retrieved a penknife
from her own collection of useful items, and hurried down the stairs. The
water was deeper than it had looked, and as she plunged into it the coldness
made her gasp. In very little time, she'd cut through the ropes tying her
friends' hands. Their feet were more difficult, being underwater, but before
long everyone had reached the safety of the stairs.
"Thanks for that," Isobel said, as they emerged from the cellar door.
"Shouldn't we try to stop the water?" Victoria asked. "It's still rising."
"I think you'd need a plumber," Gia said. "One of the pipes came adrift.
Anyway, it won't overflow for a while yet."
"Zoë'll probably tell you how long before it does," Isobel added. "To the
minute."
"No I won't," Zoë said. "I'm t-too cold."
"Come on, then. Let's find somewhere warm to dry off."
"Good idea. It's probably affecting Sam badly, too. It's all to do with
s-surface area to m-mass ratios..."
"Dunno about that," Samantha said. "But it's a good job I'm not a brass
monkey right now."
"Whatever happened?" Victoria asked.
"Tell you as we go. Come on."
They hurried back they way they'd come, leaving a trail of wet footprints.




Chapter 5: Reading Between The Lines

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