Odd Weather

Extreme weather events are happening across the globe. Communities damaged by fireballs, boiling rain that cooks people alive, villages and their inhabitants frozen in ice. In N2K headquarters, Crocker’s team are called upon to discover what’s happening, and why.

Other countries are blaming Britain for these disasters and time is not on Britain’s side. Can they track down the man who is triggering these events or is it already too late? And what’s the relevance of the mysterious mask that was smuggled back from Africa after a disasterous local weather event? It’s all going to take some sorting out.

ODD WEATHER

Life in Norfolk could be grand in the summer when the weather was good like this. Most of the rain Ronan had seen at this time of year had been delivered in a mist or mizzle. The same stuff that the Scots called ‘dreich’ and the Irish called ‘soft rain’. Nothing more than a heavy mist – like walking through a cloud. Perfect for healthy grass and flowers.

But as his thoughts blended with his daydream, Ronan was blown backwards with no warning by a blast of scalding steam. His chair folded in on itself and he found himself curled in a foetal position at the back of the porch. He opened his eyes but couldn’t take in what he saw. A solid sheet of water cascaded from the heavens, blocking completely his view of the residential caravan park. It was like being under a waterfall, but the water was thick and blistering – hotter than the hottest sauna. Water like burning coals that scorched and seared everything it touched. And a lot of it was bouncing off his path and into his open-fronted porch, burning his face and arms wherever it landed.

Ronan forced himself into a standing position and struggled to get to his front door. It opened to his touch and, within seconds, he had slammed it shut and locked out the rain. He ran to the window and stared out at what he couldn’t believe. Already, the water was inches deep on his driveway, which was as far as he could see. He could feel the heat through the double-glazing. He’d spent an adventure holiday in New Guinea when he was a young man. Humidity had been so high that nothing could be kept dry. It turned out to be the most miserable ten days he had ever experienced. But this was worse. A lot worse. Already the inside temperature had risen to a most uncomfortable level and the air was thick with water vapour.

And then, moments later, the downpour stopped as quickly as it had started. Ronan stood and stared with mouth open as the steam began to clear and the Anchor Park became visible little by little. Everywhere was as still as a stone. Gone were all the picket fences. Gone were the bright abundance of flowers and shrubs. Gone were the manicured laws. And gone were Mr and Mrs Emery who he had waved to earlier.