Wrong Time, Wrong Place (5 page)

Oh God, Nick
.

It was all gone. Everything. The most shocking thing was how quickly it had all happened. It couldn’t have been more much than an hour since they’d been walking along the ridge towards home, with just the wild scenery for company. Now the lives of the three people she’d shared the day with were over. The man she’d been married to for seven years had been snatched away from her in the blink of an eye by another man he’d never met before, and never done a thing to. There hadn’t even been
a chance for her to hold him in her arms and say goodbye.

Ash felt the tears sting her cheeks. That murdering bastard. If only he knew what he’d done. But he didn’t. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. And it was certain that he, and whoever else he was with, wanted to do exactly the same thing to her too.

The barking was getting closer again, and by the sound of it the dogs were moving fast. They’d probably be heading for the abandoned bra, but Ash couldn’t rely on that fact. She needed to keep moving and hope that she came across a house, or farm, or anywhere she could summon help. It wasn’t much of a plan, but the alternative was climbing a tree, and that wasn’t going to work either.

Still panting from all the running she’d done already, she set off again, picking up speed, trying to work out whether she should get rid of her T-shirt next, or one of her socks.

The barking was still coming towards her, and it was getting closer.

She accelerated, going as fast as she could. The forest was beginning to open out now with more space between the trees and fewer bushes to hide behind. The treetops had thinned out too, making it lighter and easier for Ash to be
spotted. She looked up, silently cursing the moon, then looked back down, watching out for traps.

One of the dogs howled, no more than fifty metres behind her. Fifty metres and closing.

Ash was flying now. She didn’t think she’d ever run this fast, not even when she was a thirteen-year-old girl and the champion sprinter in her year at school, capable of doing a hundred metres in just over twelve and a half seconds. Her long, gangly legs used to ‘eat up the track like spaghetti’, as her mum would say. But that didn’t matter now because she was never going to be able to go fast enough. The dogs were going to catch her. In a few minutes’ time it was all going to be over. Every experience she had ever had, every emotion she’d ever felt, was going to disappear for ever, wiped clean. It would be like she’d never existed.

The hole appeared without warning, and her foot went straight into it. She tripped and landed painfully on the hard ground.

Suddenly she was rolling down an incline, hitting stones and exposed tree roots before landing with an icy splash in water.

She was in a fast-moving stream about ten metres across. Rolling further into it, she
allowed herself to be taken by the current, keeping all but the top half of her head underwater as she half-crawled and half-swam downstream. The water was freezing but she didn’t care. This was her chance of escape.

Behind her, Ash heard the dogs stop, barking wildly. She dipped her head below the surface, holding her breath, pushing herself into the middle where the water was three or four feet deep and she could swim properly. A minute passed and she came up, gasping for air.

The stream was running faster now, and she could hear a roaring, growing steadily louder, coming from further ahead. That was when she realised with a jolt of panic that she’d read in a brochure at the lodge that close by was a waterfall more than twenty metres high.

She must be heading straight for it.

Cursing, she fought her way across to the opposite side of the stream from the dogs, but she was soon out of her depth, and fully clothed and wearing shoes. It was suddenly a terrible struggle. The roar was getting louder, and she was being swept along faster. Currents of water were whirling and flowing around her, and the cold was beginning to have a real effect.

For a moment she thought about giving up. Just letting the water take her to where it would.
If that meant death, then so be it. At least that way the effort was over.

But Ash was a fighter. She always had been. When she put her mind to something she didn’t give up.

An exposed rock appeared in front of her, and she grabbed hold of it. She took a couple of desperate, panting breaths before using the rock as a lever to push herself over to another rock closer to the bank. A huge sense of relief filled her as she felt solid ground beneath her feet. She waded out, glancing backwards. She could still hear the dogs but they sounded quite a long way back now, and because they were on the other side of the stream, she hoped they’d no longer have her scent.

Close to exhaustion now, and shivering with the cold, Ash crawled under a thick holly bush a few yards from the water’s edge, trying to get as far under it as possible. Finally, she lay still and let her breathing slow.

In those moments, she once again thought about death, about how a person’s world could change in the blink of an eye, or the deep slash of a knife. One minute she was a happily married woman living a problem-free life. The next her husband was lying dead in their holiday home, and she was alone and terrified
in the woods while at least one killer hunted her down for a reason she simply couldn’t understand. Why could they possibly want to kill her? She didn’t even have any idea who they were.

Ash lay there for what felt like a long time. A minute? Two? Five? It was difficult to tell, and she didn’t dare look at her watch. However long it was, she heard no further sound from her pursuers or the dogs. Had they given up and gone? Or were they still out there waiting for her to make her move? God, she was so very, very cold. She couldn’t lie like this for ever. At some point she would have to find shelter. Otherwise she risked dying from exposure.

A twig snapped a few yards away, and Ash froze.

9

SILENCE FOLLOWED. ONE
second. Two seconds. Three. Ash stopped breathing and fought to keep her shivering under control, because it was rustling the leaves under her. Every nerve ending in her body felt like it was on fire.

She heard a footstep nearby. Then another. Coming closer.

Oh God, no
.

She didn’t want to die. The thought of a knife being plunged into her and slowly bleeding to death almost made her cry out in utter terror. But she forced herself to calm down, hold her breath and stay still. Without the dogs to help him there was a possibility he might miss her. No part of her body was exposed. He might not see her.

Please God, if you exist, help me now. Don’t let him see me. Please
.

The man was right above her now. She could feel his presence. His boots crunched on the forest floor as he crept round the bush.

Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t breathe
.

Slowly Ash forced her eyes open, and that was when she saw the bottom half of his legs. He was standing right there, his muddied boots only two feet from her head, pointing her way.

Jesus, he knows I’m here
.

The whole thing felt like some horrible game of hide and seek. Ash could feel her lungs coming close to bursting. She had to breathe soon.

Then he was moving off again, down towards the edge of the stream. As he did so, more of him came into view. It was the same man from the lodge. The one who’d stabbed Nick. She was sure of it. He was still holding the bloodied knife he’d used down by his side.

Bastard
.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ash could see a piece of jagged flint the size of a fist near to her right hand. Suddenly she felt an intense rage the like of which she’d never experienced before. Ash considered herself a nice girl who didn’t believe in the death penalty, but at that moment all she wanted to do was kill this bastard who’d come here and ruined her life. She allowed herself a long, silent breath before reaching out for the piece of flint and gripping it tightly.

The man in black crouched down and looked up and down the stream.

Then slowly he began to turn, and Ash realised that at the height he was at, he was going to see her.

Fear rushed back. It mixed with rage and desperation. All these different emotions tore around her body like the whirlpools in the stream. She had to make a decision. Fast.

He turned round completely. He was wearing night vision goggles and he was staring straight at her.

For a split second, he didn’t move.

But Ash did.

With a speed born of pure heart-pounding adrenalin, she leaped out of the bush, rose to her full height and let out a howl of anger as she threw the stone straight at his head.

It was her one chance of survival, and it worked. The stone hit him full in the face, knocking him backwards.

He kept his balance, and he still had the knife, but he was hurt. He clutched at his face with his free hand and grunted with pain.

Now that she’d drawn blood, the rage seemed to re-energise Ash. She flew forward, picked up the stone and, before her attacker had time to defend himself, smashed it into the side of his head with such force that he went down to his knees.

He swung his knife at her in a wild arc but he was way too slow and unsteady. Ash dodged out of the way and danced round the back of him, sensing victory as she struck him in the base of the skull with another big howl.

This time the knife dropped from his hand and he let out a painful groan as he fell forward.

Ash was on him like a shot, jumping on his back and forcing him into the dirt. She brought the stone down again and again on his head, using both hands for effect, ignoring the terrible sound of bone crunching and the blood and brain matter oozing out of his skull. She was lost in the absolute thrill of revenge.

Then, without warning, it was like a switch had been turned off. Ash stopped hitting him, let the stone fall from her hands, and began to sob. He’d stopped moving, and the top of his head was a white-flecked pulp of meat and shattered bone. The man who’d killed her husband was dead, and Ash was the one who’d killed him.

Filled with a black curiosity, needing to know what a murderer like him looked like, she reached down with a shaking hand and pulled off the goggles.

He was younger than her, probably no more than late twenties with pale, unlined features
and plump cheeks with a heavy spray of freckles. His eyes were closed, and it looked like he was asleep. And that was the thing. He looked so bloody normal. There was no menace about him, no sign of the darkness that must have been in his heart. As she stared, a thick line of blood ran down his forehead and pooled in his eye.

‘Oh God,’ whispered Ash. ‘What have I done?’

Which was the moment when she heard an angry bark. She looked up and saw a second black-clad figure on the other side of the stream, running down towards her and pulling a rifle from his shoulder. The dogs, sleek-looking Dobermanns, were on either side of him.

‘Get her, boys!’ he roared.

The baying dogs charged into the stream while the man went down on one knee, taking a firing stance.

Calling up her last reserves of energy, Ash turned and bolted, hurtling through bushes, keeping low, trying to zigzag so she wouldn’t present him with a decent target. She knew she’d never outrun the dogs, but she had no choice but to try.

A shot rang out with a loud crack, and a bullet
whistled through the branches so close to Ash that she could almost feel its heat.

Her legs ached. Her whole body felt like it was seizing up. Fit or not, there was no way she could last much longer.

Keep going. Your life depends on it. If you stop, you die
.

A branch hit her in the face, cutting the skin just beneath her eye. She almost fell but somehow righted herself, hearing the dogs getting closer once again.

Then suddenly the ground disappeared in front of her and Ash was forced to make an emergency stop. She only just avoided falling over the edge of a high cliff that dropped down to a river flowing hard a long, long way below. Thirty metres to her left, the waterfall cascaded down to meet it. The water sparkled in the moonlight that flickered through the trees.

Ash turned as the dogs came bolting out of the trees straight at her, teeth bared, tongues lolling. She’d always been petrified of heights. She refused to travel in cable cars, and didn’t even like going up a stepladder at home. But people can overcome even their worst fears when confronted by two attack dogs, and the prospect of certain death.

As the first dog leaped for her she turned and
jumped out into the unknown, eyes squeezed shut and legs flapping wildly. She was half-expecting the sensation of teeth sinking into her flesh, but nothing came. Instead she simply fell through space for what seemed like hours, her whole life flashing before her – visions of childhood parties, desert islands, romantic nights with Nick.

She hit the water with a huge crash, and felt herself being taken further and further downstream. Ash fought all the time to keep her head above water and avoid the warm embrace of unconsciousness.

The last thing she remembered was the current driving her into the shallows where she could feel the ground beneath her feet.

Then, finally, everything went black.

10

SLOWLY, EVER SO
slowly, Ash’s eyes opened.

For a few seconds she had no idea where she was, just this vague feeling that she’d had a dark and brutal dream in which her beloved Nick had been murdered. Then, as she raised her head from where it had been face down in foul-smelling mud, and felt her whole body aching, she remembered what had happened, and her heart sank.

Rubbing mud from her eyes, she carefully glanced round. Sunlight dappled through the trees, and she was forced to squint against it. By the sun’s low angle she guessed it was fairly early in the morning.

She rolled round on to her back with a groan and saw that water was lapping at her hiking shoes. She was lying next to a fast-flowing river, with a cliff stretching up on the other side. The river must have carried her along for God knows how far before depositing her here in a flat clearing.