Hooded Man (72 page)

From another AFV came the small nurse and Mary. The latter was carried by two soldiers, still pretty much out of it. The left leg of her jeans was ripped, the broken limb beneath straightened between two pieces of wood. Her face was a mess, right eye swelled and black from bruising, but the nurse had managed to clean her up somewhat. There were plasters covering the wounds on her cheek and forehead, the edges of stitches poking out from beneath. She lolled between the two men as they dragged her along, then dumped her on the ground in the middle of the spotlights. When the nurse shouted something at them, she got a backhanded slap for her trouble.

“I am addressing the deserters who fled like cowards from Nottingham Castle,” came the Tsar’s address through the loud-speaker attached to his vehicle. “We are holding three of your friends in the entrance to Sherwood, and will kill them one by one unless you surrender yourselves to us. You have one quarter-hour to comply and then the first is dead.”

Anyone on this side of the forest should have heard that; it had certainly been loud enough. Depending on where they were, it should also give them enough time to reach the car park, unless they were deep into the trees. If they couldn’t get there in time? Well, too bad. They’d execute the nurse.

Tanek scanned the edge of the mist for any movement. There was nothing. So they waited.

When they’d been there almost ten minutes, the Tsar repeated his demands. Tanek looked at his watch. They were running out of time.

“We need to get Mary back inside!” said the nurse. “She’s freezing out here.”

“No one is going anywhere,” Tanek told her, turning the crossbow on the woman.

She glowered, but stayed put.

Come on,
Tanek said to himself.
Where are you? Make your move.

Then someone stepped out of the mist. A figure wearing a hood, carrying a bow. On the ground, he saw Mary stir.

Tanek grinned to himself, not just because he could picture the Tsar’s face in the AFV – and imagine him having to swallow his words – but because he would now get the opportunity to kill Hood himself.

The Tsar’s voice came over the speaker. “So, you are still alive after all? Then I will have your head for what you did this morning!”

Shots rang out, and before Tanek could tell them that the Hooded Man was his kill, bullets from one of the soldiers guarding Mary and the nurse peppered Hood’s torso. He sank heavily to the ground. If he hadn’t been dead before, then he certainly was now. Tanek swore under his breath and, turning, shot the offending guard with his crossbow. “He was mine!”

As he was turning back to the scene, though, Tanek’s mouth fell open. Hood had climbed to his feet, bow and arrow readied. Adele stared in amazement too. What was he, indestructible? A ghost? He certainly looked the part, with the mist swirling around him.

They’d hardly had time to recover from this when another figure stepped out of the fog on their right, also wearing a hood and carrying the same weapons.

Seconds later, there was another on their left. It was almost as if the man had cloned himself.

Tanek frowned. One of these had to be the real Hood – he’d just kill them all! With his bare hands if necessary.

Before he could do anything, arrows were shot into the circle from somewhere beyond the trio. They took out the spotlights on the lead vehicle, then the others.

“Shoot!” Tanek ordered. But, glancing around, he saw that a good number of the soldiers were already on the floor, unconscious. They’d been silently put out of commission by someone else while their attention had been focused elsewhere.

Then he saw the culprit. Yet another hooded figure jumped from the top of an AFV, down into the small group guarding the hostages. He was dispatching soldiers with a sword, incapacitating them before they could get a shot off – slashing two across the face, then burying the point in another’s shoulder before Tanek could blink. Tanek collected himself, raised his crossbow and shot.

The man stepped sideways, letting the bolt bounce off the AFV. He took out a knife and threw it at Tanek, embedded it in his right arm. Tanek immediately lost his grip on the crossbow.

More lights were put out. Everything was taking on a crimson shade from the light of the baleful moon.

The remainder of the Tsar’s soldiers were climbing out of their vehicles, but were being picked off by the three Hoods who’d come out of the mist, moving forward and firing all the time. One was not using a bow and arrow, but a shotgun.

Meanwhile, the Hood with the sword was helping the nurse get Mary to her feet, the gentle way he was holding the injured woman speaking volumes.

“Robert,” said Adele.

Tanek indicated that the women should move off into the mist, where another figure had appeared; a fat, bald man. The mystery arrow firer, Tate.

Tanek pulled the knife out of his arm, wincing only slightly. He felt pain, just didn’t show it; he never did. As the Hood who’d thrown it – the original, of that he was certain – came towards him, he grabbed Adele and put the knife against her throat.

“Tell them to put down their weapons. Or I’ll put it to use.”

Hood paused. “Go ahead.”

Adele looked from Tanek to Hood. “How can you say that?”

“Because you’re his daughter! The Sheriff’s!” growled Robert. “Because you deserve the same as he got.”

“Take cover,” Tanek said to Adele, letting her go. There was no point pretending any more. The only two hostages worth anything were getting away. But perhaps he could do something about that. Turning the knife around, he threw it at the escaping women. He had been aiming for Hood’s pet, to put her out of her misery, but the nurse saw what was about to happen over her shoulder and positioned herself in the way. The blade slid easily into her back and she slumped forwards, falling on top of Mary.

Good enough,
thought Tanek.

All around them the Tsar’s men were falling, none able to get off more than a round or two. The replica Hoods had revealed themselves now, hunting coats flapping open to show bullet-proof vests beneath. The first was the boy Mark, the other a girl Tanek had never seen before. Next, the farmer who’d shot him over a year ago.

So many here who needed to be taught a lesson.

But first: Hood. He was coming towards him – was that a limp? – sword high, enraged at the attack on the nurse. Tanek braced himself to grab the man’s forearm when he made his first swing. As it turned out, he didn’t need to.

Hood’s blow was blocked by another sword. One of the twins had left her sister behind to guard the Tsar. Hood seemed taken aback, but not as much as when she kicked him squarely in the chest. He flopped against the AFV, then slid down it.

Maybe I won’t kill her so quickly after all,
thought Tanek, although he knew she hadn’t done it for him.
She can keep him busy while I see to other matters.

An arrow whizzed past him and he remembered there were still four of Hood’s people out there. Picking up his crossbow and switching it to the other hand, he fired at the girl. It didn’t matter if he killed her quickly; it was the other two he really wanted to savour.

The boy dived across and pushed her out of the way, taking the bolt in the thigh. At first Tanek was mad, but it was poetic justice. Payback for the bolt the boy had shot into his calf the last time they’d met.

“Oi!” came a call just off to his right. “Remember me?” It was the other one. The fucking farmer.

“Oh, yes,” said Tanek.

“Then you remember this, dontcha,” the farmer raised his shotgun and let off a blast.

Not this time, my friend.
Tanek ducked sideways to escape the shell’s bite. “And you will remember this,” he said, loosing a bolt at his enemy and nicking the man’s gun hand. He dropped his weapon.

Tanek was up and running towards him moments later, issuing a terrifying, bloodcurdling roar. He put his head down and rammed the farmer, lifting him up into the air and launching him backwards.

R
OBERT MOVED JUST
in time to avoid the blade, which clanked off the side of the AFV. Dammit, she was fast.

Here was he thinking that the difficult part had been creeping up and fixing the Tsar’s men while Mark, Sophie and Bill created their little diversion. Or getting Mary to safety... except she wasn’t yet, was she?

Mary.

Words couldn’t describe how he’d felt seeing her alive. He thought the dream was coming true (it might still, he reminded himself, all of them dead; Jack probably dead already). He wasn’t going to let that happen, even if he wasn’t quite back to full strength – and how he’d recovered so quickly was still something Robert didn’t want to question.

He recognised the woman fighting him from the dream. One of the Tsar’s bodyguards. But only one, which begged the question, where was the other? Would she attack when he least expected it?

Robert silenced the thoughts – he needed to concentrate, to keep dodging this twin’s swipes. Over her shoulder he saw Tanek shoot Mark and go after Bill. If he could get rid of the bodyguard, he might be able to help them.

This time he met her sword with his, sending shockwaves up his arm, across his chest and into his bad shoulder – strapped up under his coat and bullet-proof vest. He groaned, which seemed to spur the woman on. She beat at his sword, hacking it like a woodsman chopping at a tree. Each time the pain was tremendous.

Robert waited for her to do it again, then pushed forwards, hooking their hilts together and headbutting her. He tried to wrench the sword from her grasp while she was dazed, but it took her seconds to recover and she disentangled the swords with practised ease. He was woefully outclassed. Here was someone who’d spent years studying with this weapon, while Robert – although this came naturally to him – had only been using his a little over a year. Good enough to tackle machete-wielding cultists, but out of his depth with a true professional. He had to get that thing away from her before she –

Another swipe, this one slashing his combat trousers, almost cutting into his good leg. He was just about managing on it, but if she wounded that one as well...

Spinning round, she came at him again. No respite, no pause for breath. Robert found himself being forced backwards, losing ground. He couldn’t hold her off much longer.

Suddenly, she drooped. Something had struck her from behind; as she fell to the side, Robert saw Tate wielding his walking stick, the hard wood still wet with her blood.

“Now Robert!” For a moment he thought the Reverend was advocating murder, but Tate quickly clarified: “Disarm her, now!”

Robert brought down the hilt of his sword on her clenched fist, which opened like a sprung trap.

A thought struck him. If the Reverend was here, then who was watching Mary? Robert searched for her, zeroing in on the spot where Lucy had been murdered, brought down on top of Mary. Tate had at least managed to pull Mary out from under the dead woman, but now Robert saw Adele approaching her. And she had a gun; one of Mary’s Peacekeepers, in fact.

Shit! He began to go after De Falaise’s daughter, but before he could move, he felt a presence behind him – vaguely heard Tate’s “Look out!” The other twin was there, had come to save her sister. Was bringing down her blade on his blind spot.

About to cut into the side of his neck and deliver her master the Hooded Man’s head.

M
ARY
!

She heard the voice but it was dull, muffled.

Mary, you’re in big trouble again. Even worse than before! Mary, you have to wake up. Have to get up! She’s coming for you!

She would have asked her brother who, but Mary didn’t care. Her whole body was numb, from the cold or because of the last thing she really remembered: things, heavy things, falling on her.

Adele,
David told her,
the harpy who did that to you. She’s on her way over here with Dad’s pistol – your pistol! – and she’s going to finish the job. Mary! Mary, PLEASE!

She told him to leave her alone. The blackness was calling again, regardless of the fact she thought she’d seen a glimpse of Robert.

David wouldn’t leave her alone.

Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary.
On and on like a stuck record, telling her that she was in danger, telling her that she was going to die. (Funny, she thought she had already.) Telling her that Adele was coming.

Adele.

That’s right. The one who was all over Robert, who led Jack on. Who tricked you all, Moo-Moo. Lucy’s already dead, she died trying to save you.

Lucy? No...

Finally, an answer. Hallelujah! Now look, Adele’s coming, so you have to do something or Lucy will have died for nothing!

But I can’t move, David. I was blown up!

You can move, it’s just that you’re telling yourself you can’t. You’re giving up Moo-Moo, and if there’s one thing I never thought you were it’s a quitter.

It’s so hard. Too hard.

Bull. Get up Mary. Get up, or you’ll just prove Dad right. He always said that you could never do a man’s job, that you were weak.

Mary felt her hand twitch.

Do you think that’s what Robert thinks, as well? Does he think you’re weak, not up to being by his side?

Mary’s fingers began to curl.

He thinks you’re a –

“– useless wretch. Look at you. This will almost be a mercy killing.” Suddenly Mary was listening to Adele. The woman was close – close enough to fire at any moment – but she obviously wanted to vent first. “You were there, weren’t you? When my father’s life was cut short. You were partly responsible. You and that bastard who sleeps with dogs. Flea-ridden dogs like you!”

Mary’s fingers balled into a fist.

“But both will die. First you, and how fitting it should be by your own weapon. Then him. If there is anything left after the Tsar’s bodyguard has finished.”

“Robert...” Mary gargled.

“What was that? Are you trying to speak? Are you begging me for your life, Mary? Is that it?”

Mary said something unintelligible.