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Authors: Simon Kernick

Stay Alive (7 page)

BOOK: Stay Alive
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To reach the footpath at the beginning of the forest, she needed to pass both cars and, as she approached them, she experienced a feeling of unease. Something didn’t feel quite right, and for a moment she considered simply turning round, heading back home, and triple-locking the door behind her. Even though this was the main road to Tayleigh, the nearest town, very little traffic passed along this way. It made her suddenly feel very vulnerable.

But Amanda didn’t turn round. Instead, she told herself to stop being so paranoid. There was no way The Disciple knew she was here and, whoever it was in the four-by-four, he wasn’t going to do anything with a police officer breathing down his neck.

As she drew level with the cars, the police officer turned round and smiled at her. He had a chubby baby face that didn’t quite sit right on his broad muscular shoulders, and there was something about his smile she didn’t like. It looked almost like a leer.

Working hard to hide the tension she was feeling, Amanda smiled back and continued walking, keeping her head down and deliberately avoiding looking over at the four-by-four’s driver, wanting to get off this road as soon as possible. The moment she was out of sight, she’d run down to the river. Her ankle was still a little tender from where she’d jumped out of Mrs Naseby’s window, trying to escape the man who’d murdered her husband, but she was still quick enough on her feet to put some real distance between her and the four-by-four.

‘Don’t move an inch.’

The voice – hard, aggressive and foreign – came from the bushes off to the side of her. Turning, Amanda saw a man emerge from the bushes, barely five feet away. He was small and wiry with olive skin and jet-black hair, and he held a gun out in front of him, pointing it directly at her ribs. Bar the incident three weeks earlier, Amanda had very little experience of criminals, but she could tell immediately that this man was the type who’d pull the trigger without hesitation, and from this distance he wouldn’t miss.

‘Turn away from me, and walk across the road to the cars,’ he continued, his voice far too calm, as if he accosted people like this every day. ‘Hurry.’

Amanda did as she was told, the shock of what was happening, and the knowledge she was trapped, stopping her from making a run for it. At the same time, the big police officer turned away from the driver’s window, his smile replaced by a cold, dead-eyed expression. Grabbing her violently by the arm, he pulled her towards him, at the same time producing a set of wrist restraints from his pocket.

‘Do as you’re told and you won’t get hurt,’ he said in a thick Scottish accent, yanking Amanda’s arm behind her back as he manoeuvred her towards the back of the four-by-four.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, conscious of the quiver in her voice. ‘This must be some mistake.’

‘There’s no mistake, Mrs Rowan,’ said the driver, who was getting out of the car now. He was in his late thirties, and spoke with a London accent, and he would have been strikingly good-looking if it weren’t for the two long thin scars running almost dead straight across his face and neck, one of which ended in a tangle of uneven tissue at his nose. But it was the syringe in his gloved hand that grabbed Amanda’s attention. They were going to drug her with something and abduct her, and the terrifying reality was that she had absolutely no idea why.

‘We just want a quiet chat, that’s all,’ said the driver, who had the air of a man in charge. He walked over to her, holding up the needle, while the big policeman expertly flicked the first of the restraints round her wrist before pulling her other arm behind her back. The third man – the one with the gun – walked over to the four-by-four’s boot and pulled it open.

Which was the moment Amanda heard another car coming round the corner towards them.

The others heard it too and turned in its direction.

Amanda knew instantly that she had just one chance to break free and that, if she didn’t take it, she was as good as dead, because whoever these men were, they meant her serious harm.

Feeling the policeman’s grip loosen ever so slightly, she yanked herself free in one single, sudden movement, catching him completely by surprise. Fuelled by adrenalin and panic, she kicked out at the driver, her walking boot connecting with his upper thigh and unbalancing him. He lunged at her with the syringe, but she was already pulling away, dropping into a crouch to make herself as difficult a target as possible.

She wasn’t quick enough. The policeman grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and yanked her back towards him with such force that he cut off her breath. But this time Amanda wasn’t coming quietly. She kicked and struggled, screaming, desperately fending off the needle as the driver tried to stab her with it, hearing the car screech to a halt only a few yards away.

The driver’s door flew open and Andy – her liaison officer – jumped out, his face a mask of indignation. ‘What the hell’s going on here?’ he yelled.

‘This lady’s under arrest,’ the policeman shouted back, pulling her round so they were both facing him.

Andy produced his warrant card, and held it up high, coming towards them calmly and confidently ‘And I’m a police officer as well. Highlands CID. What the hell have you arrested her for?’

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw the guy with the gun move away from the car and shouted a desperate warning. ‘Andy, watch out! He’s got a gun!’

Almost in slow motion, Andy turned towards the car, the confidence seeping out of his expression as he saw the gunman striding confidently towards him from the other side of the road, gun arm outstretched as he took aim. For the first time Amanda saw that the gun had a long, cigar-shaped silencer on the end, like something out of a movie.

Andy lifted a hand in surrender, his voice rising higher as he spoke. ‘Please, I’m a police officer . . .’

The gunman smiled. Then, when he was only five feet away, he pulled the trigger.

A fine cloud of blood sprayed out of the side of Andy’s head, and his eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was counting in a game of hide and seek. For an interminably long moment, he tottered unsteadily on his feet, then collapsed to the ground.

The whole drama, from Andy getting out of the car, to having his life snuffed out, had taken barely five seconds, but it had given Amanda enough time to work out her next move, and in the sudden silence that often comes after a single act of terrible violence, she reached behind her with her free hand and grabbed the police officer by his balls through the material of his trousers, twisting them round with an intensity born of desperation.

It worked. He let go of her immediately, crying out in pain, and Amanda tore free from his grasp, sprinting past the front of the four-by-four, trying to keep the driver and the cop between her and the gunman.

A shot rang out, whistling somewhere past her head as, crouching low, Amanda swung a hard left into the welcoming embrace of the forest, sprinting for her life.

‘No!’ she heard the scar-faced driver scream. ‘She’s got to be taken alive! Get after her!’

And as she tore through the thick undergrowth, hearing the sounds of pursuit all too close behind her, knowing she had to keep her balance or she was dead, two questions ripped through her fear.

What have I done? And why do these people want me?

Ten

JESS HAD TO
admit she’d enjoyed the trip so far, although her arms were beginning to ache now.

The river was beautiful. It meandered gently through thick patches of woodland and rolling green fields, with majestic mountains rising up in the distance behind, and with just the occasional isolated house appearing amidst the silent, natural beauty. Because that was the amazing thing about this place. The silence. Jess had never experienced anything like it before, coming from London where there was always some kind of street noise, even in the dead of night. Here, you could hear literally nothing, bar the call of the occasional bird and the soothing flow of the river, for ages at a time. So far, they hadn’t seen another soul. There’d been a couple of minor rapids earlier and, though she’d never admit it to anyone, Jess had been nervous going through them, imagining the canoe capsizing and her having to swim for shore. Or, even worse, Casey and Tim’s canoe capsizing, and Casey being lost beneath the water. But of course, everything had been fine, and now the two canoes cut through the flat, still water, side by side, while Jess marvelled at how isolated it was out here.

She turned to Casey, who was taking a rest from paddling the other canoe, and letting their Uncle Tim do the work. ‘Having fun?’ she asked her sister.

‘I love it,’ grinned Casey, her whole face lighting up. ‘How about you, Jess? Are you having fun?’

‘Course I am. I’m spending time with you, aren’t I?’ She winked at her sister.

‘I liked the rapids earlier the most,’ continued Casey. ‘They were like the flume ride at Thorpe Park, only better.’

‘That’s because they’re real,’ said Tim. ‘We’ve got another one coming soon. That’s the last one, then it’s just an easy run into Tayleigh, and hopefully a quick pint at The Farmer’s.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Jean. ‘We’re being picked up by the canoe owner. I’m sure he won’t want to hang about while you have a beer.’

‘He might if I buy him one,’ said Tim, who liked a drink.

‘No,’ said Jean, with a finality that brooked no further argument. But there was a lightness to her tone that told anyone listening that she was just bantering with her husband, and loved him really.

Jess had a boyfriend, Joe. They’d been together four months and had had numerous ups and downs. Jess thought she loved him, although she wasn’t sure, and when she heard the easy way Jean and Tim talked to each other, it made her vaguely jealous.

‘I don’t want this to end,’ said Casey, looking round at the scenery, her eyes lighting up.

‘We can come back any time you like,’ said Jean.

‘Tomorrow?’

Jean laughed. ‘Maybe not tomorrow, but I’m sure we can come next weekend if the weather’s good. Right Tim?’

‘Course we can,’ he answered, turning round in his seat and smiling back at Casey.

Jess felt happy then, for the first time in a while. Things finally seemed to be working out. Casey had left all her friends behind in London, and Jess had been so worried that she wouldn’t settle in up here, but she should have known better. People warmed to Casey. She could settle in anywhere, which meant Jess could now concentrate on getting her own life together, finishing college, and hopefully going off to uni.

‘Tim, can we pull into shore up here? I need the toilet,’ said Jean, who’d had to stop for toilet breaks twice already today. ‘Sorry girls, I’m a slave to my bladder,’ she added, giving Jess a little bit more detail than she actually needed.

‘There’s a spot just up here, look,’ said Tim, pointing to a small sandy strip a few yards across, just upstream on the right.

As they rowed the two canoes over, bringing the noses to a halt in the sand, Jess heard a popping sound coming from somewhere up in the trees ahead. She frowned, wondering what it was, but nobody else seemed to hear it and Jean clearly had more important things to worry about as she scrambled out the back of the canoe and disappeared behind a nearby tree.

‘Does anyone else need to go?’ asked Tim. ‘We’re still a good hour from Tayleigh.’

Casey said she was okay, but Jess was feeling a bit of a twinge and didn’t fancy getting uncomfortable later. ‘I do,’ she said, getting up unsteadily in the canoe and jumping off the end onto the sand, careful not to get her Converses wet. Stretching, she walked up the bank, looking for a tree as far away from Jean as possible.

Which was when she heard the sound of someone coming fast through the trees and turned to see a woman in dark clothing running down the hill towards her, barely twenty yards away, a look of utter panic on her face.

For a moment, Jess couldn’t believe what she was seeing. But the woman kept coming, getting closer and closer, if anything her pace quickening as she caught sight of Jess.

Five yards separated them now.

‘Run!’ the woman snapped, making no attempt to stop, her voice like the staccato crack of a branch. ‘Now!’

Jess wasn’t used to taking orders from someone she’d never met before, especially one who’d appeared out of nowhere, but as the woman ran past her in the direction of the boats, Jess caught sight of two more figures coming through the trees further up the hill, and it looked like one of them was carrying—

Jesus. It was a gun.

Jess had always been a fast runner. At school, she’d excelled in the sprints, and had always been quick off the mark. She was quick off the mark now. Turning in one rapid movement, she sprinted for the boats, already a good few yards behind the mystery woman.

Jean, meanwhile, appeared from behind the tree she’d been using, still pulling up her baggy shorts, a surprised expression on her face.

‘We need to go!’ Jess yelled at her. ‘There are men with guns in the woods!’

‘Oh my God!’ cried Jean, but she didn’t need telling twice, running for the canoe at a good pace for a big woman.

The mystery woman reached Jess and Jean’s canoe first and, as Tim and Casey looked on aghast, she pushed it back into the water, then jumped in, grabbed one of the oars and began paddling wildly. Jean jumped in after her, grabbing another paddle, while Jess, realizing that Tim and Casey were making no effort to paddle backwards into the water, grabbed the nose of their canoe and shoved it into the river as hard as she could.

‘What’s going on?’ Casey cried out, clearly terrified.

‘We’ve got to get out of here, okay,’ Jess answered, trying and failing to stay calm, wanting to pick Casey up and hug her tight, but continuing to push the canoe, which was still hardly moving at all. ‘Paddle, Tim, for God’s sake!’ she yelled.

‘What the hell’s happening?’ he demanded.

‘Just do it.’ With a last big heave, Jess jumped in the boat, pushing Casey down between the seats so she was out of sight and grabbing her oar.

‘Jess, what are you doing?’ she sobbed.

Jess didn’t answer. She was paddling backwards like crazy and looking towards the bank where the two men she’d seen earlier had now appeared on the sand, no more than twenty yards away. One of them, a small guy dressed in black, definitely had a gun in his hand, but the other – a much bigger guy – looked as if he was wearing a police uniform, and didn’t appear to be armed.

BOOK: Stay Alive
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