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fumbled around his desk until his fingers touched the computer mouse; his eyes darted back and forth as he waited for the screen to warm up.
    â€˜Okay.’
    He lifted the webcam, holding it at the sphere’s edge. ‘Here goes.’ Slowly, he pushed the camera through the cloud, peering sideways to watch the screen.
    A loud screech and the camera was jolted from his grasp. Sparks charged up and down his spine. On shaky legs, he backed away and stood against the wall. Joe watched the cloud as it hung there, as unassuming as before.
    Except it had eaten his camera.
    The computer screen revealed nothing but static.
    He crept over, crouched before the monitor and pressed play.
    At first it was just darkness. Then – and he guessed the camera spun wildly at this moment – an eyeless creature, bony, teeth bared, swam through the blackness, claws extended. At first it moved with such speed it resembled a milky smudge. The thing observed the camera passively but then lunged, the mouth stretching impossibly wide. The last thing the camera saw was a row of long, sharp teeth.
    Then, static.
    He was sitting down. He didn’t remember sitting down. Trembling, he clicked the mouse again. The face resembled nothing he’d seen on earth or within the ocean depths; it wasn’t a horror-movie monster, nor comic-book creature feature. Eyeless cavities, a body of chalky bone. What seemed to be a massive ribcage. Long jaws, like the snout of a hound dog if all its flesh and blood were stripped away. Epic teeth.
    His chest ached from his relentless pounding heart. What was that thing? Where did it come from? Any minute now it might decide to take a chunk out of him.
    Time for it to go.
    When he turned back, the sphere was gone.
    * * *
    GRACE SAVOURED THE RICH , sweet smell of tea and jam- smothered toast.
    Her mother poured a cup of tea and pushed it towards her daughter with a bemused smile. ‘Sleep okay, honey?’ Grace warmed her hands against the cup. She felt groggy from oversleep. ‘Did it rain overnight, Mum?’
    â€˜No, not yet. But it’ll come soon. I can smell it.’
    A tousled head of dark curly hair moved past the window that overlooked the back garden.
    â€˜What’s Joe doing?’
    Delicately, Mum picked crumbs off her plate. ‘I told your brother to get started on the garden.’
    Grace watched the crumbs disappear. ‘When’s Dad back?’
    â€˜Around four.’ Mum sipped her tea.
    â€˜Have you told him about Joe getting in trouble?’
    â€˜No, not yet. We can talk properly when Dad gets home.’
    Grace gulped her tea, flinching as the hot liquid scalded her throat. She padded over to the sink and rinsed her cup.
    â€˜Not hungry?’
    â€˜Not really.’
    Her mother smiled and frowned at the same time. ‘You still won’t tell me what’s wrong?’
    Grace hesitated, her mind weighing it up. It would be good to spill her worries out. But . . . no. Joe had seen that boy, and he was in denial. Nobody would believe her. ‘I’m okay, Mum. Honest.’ With a forced smile, Grace made her way upstairs for a shower, feeling like a coward.
    * * *
    JOE CURSED AS another gust of wind barrelled through the leaves, scattering them over the grass again. ‘Damn it!’ Flailing uselessly, he tried to flatten the leaves only to be undermined by another gust. ‘Oh, come on now! This is getting stupid!’
    He peered upwards. Mum had gone to pick up Dad, Grace was probably in her room. Nobody could see him in the backyard. Now would be a good time.
    Again, his fingertips began to tingle.
    Curiosity overcame fear.
    And there were leaves to get rid of, anyway.
    â€˜Okay.’
    He threw another glance at the house, took a breath and focused on imagining the cloud.
    Perhaps he needed to say something, like a spell. He opened his mouth – but the air in front of him had already changed, darkening, like a mini