Ben had told Scott there was no such thing as the Bermuda Triangle, that in all the years he’d sailed those waters, he’d never come across anything he couldn’t explain. He’d said that if a ship went down, there was always a good reason, and it had nothing to do with some arbitrary spot on the charts that some people thought was cursed, or whatever.

But Ben, for all his knowledge and experience, had been wrong, because there WAS something out there, something that snatched ships, and even planes, out of the here and now into somewhere outside of the normal run of time. That was how they were here, now, on this island that shouldn’t, couldn’t exist. It wasn’t on any of the charts, that was for sure, and it was far too big not to have been noticed. There was a mountain visible in the distance, and animals that not only didn’t belong in the Caribbean, but that didn’t belong on the same continent as each other.

Was whatever had brought them here the source of the legends about the supposed Bermuda Triangle? It seemed so, there didn’t appear to be any other, more logical, explanation.

Paul wished he had some kind of answer that would reassure his son, that he could tell Scott that they’d be fine, and that they’d soon be home again, where they belonged, but that wasn’t a promise he could make; not when they knew so little about where they were and how they’d gotten there.

All they had were each other and the few items of equipment they’d managed to salvage from the wreckage of their boat. That and the silent Arawak native, who likewise shouldn’t exist, and carried a device unlike anything Paul had ever seen. A device that could heal...


The End