Desolation Point (14 page)

“Mmhm.” Sarah’s answer was always the same, as was the sensation of the rough wood beneath her fingernails as she dug them into the arm of the chair.

Without further hesitation, Alex quickly wiped an antiseptic-soaked cloth across and around the wound, waited for the air to dry it, and then pressed a clean dressing into place.

“Nothing to it,” Sarah said shakily. She allowed herself to be helped up. Gripping onto the back of the chair, she waited for the pain to fade. The hut was dark and cool, the stove already extinguished. As she pulled the rest of her clothes on, she could hear rain falling steadily, and she would have given almost anything not to have to leave the tiny sanctuary they had found. When she fed her arms through the straps of Alex’s pack, it settled too low on her back and rubbed unbearably against the raw wound.

Noticing the problem, Alex adjusted the straps and the pain gradually eased.

“Any better?”

“It’s fine, thanks.”

A quiet beep sounded from the GPS when Alex switched it on. Without another word, they walked out into the rain.

Nathan Merrick was pacing, five steps back and forth. It was still early, but he and Bethany had set off just before dawn, the beam of their flashlights cutting through the trees as they tried to regain the ground they had lost. Late the previous night, poring over the map, he had cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Previously, he had been assuming that the girl would continue downward in an attempt to find help, because that had seemed to be the only sensible course of action for her to take, since there was no map in the bag she had stolen and the GPS was passcode protected. And yet…

He paused, turning around in dirt already scuffed and trampled beneath his restless passage.

And yet there, on his map, obvious once you knew where to look, was the small black square symbolizing the only possible source of shelter for miles around. It was only supposition, but he knew in his gut that the girl had gone there. Maybe she’d had a map tucked into her jacket. Maybe she just knew the park well. He wasn’t really interested as long as he found the little bitch. He stopped again and spat into the mud, trying to remember in which direction Beth had chosen to go when she had announced that she needed the toilet. He had started to walk across to a clump of bushes when she came hurrying out, tucking her shirt back into her pants and then clipping her radio onto her belt.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, her cheeks reddening despite the cool air.

“Took you fuckin’ long enough.” He spat again, mostly for the satisfaction of seeing her disapproval.

“I said I was sorry.” Her hands were moving nervously, patting her clothing down as if she were afraid she had misplaced something. She had been twitchy since setting off, and he was growing weary of adjusting his pace to accommodate her.

“That way.” Pointing straight ahead, he set off immediately, no longer caring whether she could keep up. He had far greater problems to worry about.

*

Blinking like a prisoner emerging from solitary confinement, Sarah shielded her eyes with her hand and raised her face to the sky.

“Bloody hell.”

Standing beside her, Alex followed her gaze upward. “Well, would you look at that.”

The rain had petered out an hour or so ago, but as they walked beneath the thick canopy of the forest neither of them had been able to see the patches of blue gradually forming in the sky. The small clearing they had just reached was bathed in sunshine. Tall grasses and ferns seemed to sparkle as light glinted off the beads of water evaporating from their surfaces, and thin wisps of steam rose from the ground as it warmed up. Sarah closed her eyes blissfully as she felt fingers of heat start to chase the chill from her skin and dry her sodden hair.

“Good a place as any for lunch, I reckon,” Alex said, pointing toward a group of stones large enough for them to sit on.

Sarah followed her across the clearing, enthusiastically shrugging out of her coat as she walked. She spread it to dry on one of the rocks. Her boots came off next, swiftly followed by her socks. She wrung them out and pulled a face as gray water oozed from them.

“I would give quite a lot right now for a clean pair of socks,” she declared, arranging them a strategic distance away from where she and Alex were about to eat.

“Yeah?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “What kind of offer might you have in mind?” She set her equally grim pair alongside Sarah’s.

Sarah blew her breath out between pursed lips as she contemplated the question. “Oh, I don’t know. Dinner somewhere fancy, all expenses paid. Nice hotel with Egyptian cotton sheets, spotless white fluffy robes, and tiny bottles of posh toiletries. Full English breakfast in bed, with mugs of tea big enough to drown in.” Her eyes had inadvertently closed as she spoke, and she opened them with a start when something soft brushed against her knuckles.

“You had me at ‘dinner somewhere fancy,’” Alex said with a smile. She pressed the clean pair of navy blue socks into Sarah’s hands. “But the rest sounded great too.”

Sarah laughed, a flush of heat spreading across her cheeks. “Hey, a deal’s a deal. I said Egyptian cotton and I meant Egyptian cotton. Where the hell did―” Holding the socks up, she saw how large they were and realized they were Merrick’s. “I hope he gets trench foot,” she muttered vehemently. She was just about to pull them on when she hesitated. “Oh, have you got a pair?” She offered one of the socks to Alex, who waved it away.

“I’m good. He had two sets. They were brand new as well. I snipped the labels off them back at the hut.” She solemnly held out another offering to Sarah. “In case we get really desperate.”

Sarah removed the plastic wrapper from the small bundle of cotton, her eyes widening as she opened out and then gaped at a pair of bright red and green striped boxer shorts.

“Nice,” she managed, before laughter made her double over. Tears brimming in her eyes, her side aching from the motion, she shook her head as Alex displayed a blue and yellow polka-dotted pair. “Bloody Nora, I think those are worse. I’m keeping these. Who knew master criminals had a sense of humor?” She carefully refolded the shorts and tucked them into her backpack. “I don’t know why I’m laughing,” she said, when she had finally managed to compose herself. “Everything I had was in that bag I lost. I already am pretty fucking desperate.”

*

They had only been walking for two hours after their lunch break, and Alex had slowed the pace considerably, but she could tell that Sarah was tiring. Sarah hadn’t said anything—Alex doubted that she ever would—but her breathing was rasping noisily as she walked, and she was clearly having difficulty keeping up. Alex stopped near a fallen log that would make a convenient seat, pulled the map out, and crouched low on the ground. She didn’t really need to try to work out their position on the map and she wasn’t sure that it was even possible, but it would give Sarah a chance to rest without making her self-conscious. After less than a minute, two boots appeared at the edge of the map. Alex squinted upward as Sarah’s shadow fell across it.

“I’m okay, Alex.” Sarah spoke with as much conviction as she could muster. In truth, she was struggling and had been for a while. Although the wound in her side seemed to be healing cleanly, the niggling pain had been a constant companion throughout the day and was eating away at what little energy she had left.

Alex made no comment, merely handing Sarah a bottle of water and two Advil and watched until she swallowed the pills.

“How far have we come?” Sarah passed the bottle back to Alex, who drank deeply before screwing the lid back on.

“At a guess, about seven miles.”

The route had been tortuous, forcing them to make countless detours around obstacles that the GPS either didn’t feature or didn’t seem to consider a problem. It had been grueling and frustrating in equal measure.

“Not far enough, then,” Sarah said, and held out a hand to help pull Alex to her feet.

*

“A bath. Sinfully deep and boiling hot, with bubbles up to my chin.”

Sarah gave a low moan of agreement. “Oh God, yes. All of that and a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate to eat while I’m soaking in it.”

They had been playing the “What will you do first upon reaching civilization?” game for the past half-hour and it had proved to be an entertaining distraction.

“I have no clue what Cadbury’s chocolate is,” Alex said, laughing quietly at Sarah’s exaggerated look of horror. Seconds later, her smile faded as she came to an abrupt halt. “Oh crap.”

In front of them, their narrow track was dominated by a flat slab of rock that stretched for three or four yards. Until now, the path they had been following had been narrow but reasonably uncomplicated, since the terrain gave them little option but to continue forward. To their right was a high, unscalable bank of crumbling rocks and dirt, while on the opposite side, the forest floor fell away down a steep embankment. The rock slab was angled slightly in the direction of the drop-off, water coursing across it to make its surface doubly treacherous.

“Sometimes,” Alex said, staring at the slab with undisguised loathing, “I don’t think life is very fair.”

“We can’t go back.” Sarah tried to sound decisive, but Alex caught the edge of fear in her words.

“No, we can’t.”

Back was several miles of the same thin track, with no option to deviate until they were almost at the clearing where they had eaten lunch. The light had been failing for the past hour, their breath fogging in front of them as the clearer sky made the temperature plummet. At least if they continued onward there was a chance of finding somewhere to make camp; they knew for certain there was nowhere suitable behind them.

Taking a firm grip of Sarah’s hand, Alex edged her boot onto the rock. The stone was greasy with wet lichen, and for the most part perfectly smooth, and she immediately felt her sole begin to slip. She stepped back and looked again, searching for flaws in the rock’s surface, for an irregularity that might provide her with a foothold.

The first fissure in the rock was only just perceptible, and it was a good stride’s length from where they stood. Using her flashlight, she pointed it out to Sarah, who nodded and then carefully adjusted the pack on Alex’s back.

“Just making sure you’re balanced,” she said in response to Alex’s puzzled look.

“Right. Thanks. Here goes nothing,” Alex murmured and stretched out with one leg to plant her boot along the rough edge of the small crack. She knew as soon as she took the step that the choice had been a good one and that it would be enough to anchor her safely.

“You see another one?” Sarah called out, unable to go anywhere until Alex had moved.

“Yeah, just about. It’s to my left. Bit closer to the edge than I’d like, but it looks bigger than this one.”

“Okay. I’ll be right behind you.”

From Alex’s position, she couldn’t see Sarah, but she heard her take a shaky breath. She wiped the sweat from her palms onto her pants, angled herself to face the next foothold, and then wriggled her boot toward it. She set her left boot in place, and then pushed off with her right.

“Shit!”

Sarah had just made the first step, which gave her a perfect view of Alex’s arms pinwheeling as she scrambled to regain her footing. Without thinking, Sarah launched herself toward a faint bulge in the rock, slightly above Alex but close enough to reach out to her. Feeling her feet slide, she instinctively dropped to her knees, catching hold of Alex’s hand as she did so. Her own motion dragged Alex down, and she winced at the thud of Alex’s knees landing on the rock, but Alex was no longer falling, and three hard tugs brought her back up to Sarah’s level. Still on their knees, they huddled together, panting to catch their breath, arms wrapped around each other. Sarah could feel Alex shaking uncontrollably as the adrenaline worked its way out of her system.

“You okay?” Sarah finally whispered.

“Yeah.” The word came out hushed as if she wasn’t quite convinced. “That was a bit fucking close.” She seemed to realize that she still had hold of Sarah’s hand in a death grip. She disentangled herself and rubbed Sarah’s hand gently in both of hers. “Sorry, I think I crushed you a little.”

“Sooner have crushed fingers than you end up at the bottom of that.” Gazing toward the edge, Sarah shuddered. Then she indicated their kneeling position. “This seems to help though. Maybe it’d be easier to crawl across.”

“Seems so obvious now.” Alex sounded faintly embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of that in the first place.

With the traction provided by their clothing and the additional security of being able to find handholds, they were soon clambering to their feet on the opposite side.

“Didn’t much like that,” Sarah said in a tone wry enough to acknowledge the extent of her understatement. “Are you all right?”

Alex was rubbing her sore knees, bending and flexing them to check for damage. “I’m good. I think my pride is slightly more battered than my knees.”

Sarah surprised herself by leaning into Alex and kissing her quickly on the cheek. “If it helps any,” she said with a hint of mischief in her voice, “you and your wounded pride can lead the way.”

*

Merrick tucked his Glock back into his belt and stepped into the hut. The door creaked shut behind him. Ignoring the smell of smoke and decades-old mildew, he slowly panned his flashlight around the place. His eyes narrowed as he tried to pick objects out of the gloom, but the dark stain in front of the stove stood out even against the filthy carpet. He crouched beside it and touched his fingers to it. They came away dry, but it was unmistakably a bloodstain. His duffel bag had been left neatly on a wooden chest, and in the far corner sat a tin bucket full of torn up cigarettes.

Grinding his teeth together, he ignored the flush of anger that made a pulse throb in his temples and consoled himself instead with the certainty that he was on the right track, that the girl had definitely been there. He placed his hand against the stove, felt the residual heat of its metal, and smiled grimly. He and Beth were probably less than a day behind her, and considering the bloodied dressings lying half-charred in the ashes at the base of the stove, they were in far better shape than she was.