Chase, page 20
She was five or six. No older. Her clothes, jeans and a yellow top, were torn and, David noticed to his horror and revulsion, stained with blood. As she lifted her head slightly he could see that there were several wounds on her face and he could see blood running from her mouth. Her hair was tied back, pulled off her face and he could see, even from such a distance, that she was crying. Her face was twisted into an expression of suffering and dismay as the two men on either side dragged her from the building.
Some of those gathered around the pit glanced in her direction but most merely kept their gaze on the flames.
High above him, the clouds once more closed around the moon, sending darkness spreading across the land. Only the glow from the fire illuminated what was happening and that was sadly inadequate compared to the celestial brightness the moon had offered. David muttered angrily under his breath, frustrated that he couldn’t see what was unfolding across the river with greater clarity.
He glanced downstream, wondering if there was another area that might give him a better vantage point.
Across the river there were a number of low bushes that would offer him cover from those he was watching. It looked relatively simple to reach that new vantage point by using the series of islands across the waterway.
Are you absolutely insane?
He hesitated for a moment, peering again towards the church and the fire. And the child.
Another child.
David slipped from between the trees and hurried down the gentle slope towards the first of the islands, although he realized they were little more than mounds of earth that were poking through the surface of the water. Would they, he wondered, be able to take his weight.
He put one foot on the first of them and pressed down on it. It seemed solid enough. David stepped across on to the second one, feeling a cold breeze blow over him from the river. He moved across swiftly and sure-footedly, finally reaching the far bank with ease. He scrambled up towards the bushes and, as the moonlight rolled across the land once more, he raised the binoculars to his face and peered in the direction of the church and those standing outside it.
He couldn’t see the child.
David swept the binoculars back and forth, searching around the flaming pit, studying the faces of those he was watching as closely as he could but of the child and the two men who had been holding her there was no sign. Some of the other onlookers had also moved away from the side of the hole, doubtless driven back by what looked like considerable heat. The flames were writhing and dancing in the breeze, sometimes dipping low and close to those gathered around them. David let out a breath and continued to look for the child.
As the moon emerged from behind the cloaking cloud he saw her.
‘Oh Jesus,’ he murmured.
She was being held aloft by a man who had emerged from the gloom. A large man who was dressed in dark clothes and who was staring ahead blankly as if he was in some kind of trance. He held the girl before him easily, his thick arms slightly bent to accommodate her negligible weight. The girl was motionless there, afraid to move.
David moved forward slightly, careful to keep behind the thick hedges that masked the approaches to the river from those close to the church. He adjusted the focus on the binoculars again, keeping them trained on the girl and the man who held her, wondering why there seemed to be something strangely familiar about the man. How could there be?
David frowned and raised himself up slightly anxious to see through some particularly thick branches poking up from the bushes.
I know that face, he told himself, even though that seemed like an impossibility. How could he know this man? Where could he possibly have seen him before? It was impossible. And yet.
He gasped. He did recognise the thick moustache and the thin features. It was the highway patrol man they’d seen back at the truck stop earlier. The man whose car they’d taken the girl from back down the road. Even out of his uniform he was a distinctive and recognisable individual, and David was unfailingly convinced that was who he was gazing at.
And that man was holding the child who’d been brought from the church closer and closer to the edge of the flaming pit.
David felt his heart hammering against his ribs.
‘No,’ he murmured.
The child was squirming in his powerful arms now, desperate to escape, to be away from the leaping flames.
David tried to swallow but his throat was too dry.
He trained the binoculars on the girls face and realized that she was screaming now.
The patrol man was saying something too, his words shouted from the expression on his face and the way he was gesticulating with his free hand. He held the girl in one powerful hand now, both of them close to the edge of the pit and those watching moved closer.
‘No,’ David whispered again, shaking his head. ‘Let her go.’
He stood up.
‘Don’t hurt her,’ he said, a little more loudly.
The patrol man made a wild gesture with his free hand.
With the other one, he lifted the girl by her throat, held her suspended there in mid-air for a moment then hurled her into the flames.
FIFTY-ONE
David felt his stomach contract. His entire body suddenly felt as if it had been dipped in freezing water.
‘Oh my God,’ he murmured, standing bolt upright, transfixed by what he’d seen.
As the moon was revealed, the clouds drifting aside like curtains before some emerging deity, white light flooded the landscape illuminating everything. He ducked back down into the bushes but his movement was too slow.
He could see at least two of the group gathered around the pit pointing in his direction.
For a second he froze. Unable or unwilling to accept that they could possibly have seen him. They were over two hundred yards away. How could they have seen him? But, even without the benefit of the binoculars he could see that more of them were jabbing fingers in his direction. Two men were actually moving across the dry ground towards where he was hiding.
David scrambled to his feet and sprinted towards the riverbank, glancing behind him in the process.
The two men had been joined by another. All three were heading in his direction now.
David dashed down the incline towards the river, grateful that the moon was still covering the land with its light. He didn’t relish running across terrain like this in pitch blackness. He jumped down to the waters edge, overbalancing and almost pitching forward into the swiftly flowing water, cursing under his breath when one of his feet splashed into the river but he ran on, stumbling over the first of the small islands and through the water to the next, peering anxiously behind him once again.
He could hear raised voices now.
They were getting closer.
Again he looked behind him and saw several figures silhouetted against the top of the ridge.
David ran on, trying to reach the sanctuary of the trees he’d hidden in before crossing the river. If he could reach those, they might not be able to see him from the far bank. They might not come after him.
Thoughts tumbled through his mind. Visions he wanted to shake but couldn’t. The patrol man. The girl in the yellow t-shirt. The fire. And, most unwelcome of all, the image of the girl being thrown into the flames. What the hell was going on? Who were these people? Why was the patrol man involved again?
David ran on, the muscles in his calves now beginning to throb. He wasn’t used to prolonged exertion like this and his plight seemed to be making movement even more difficult. It was as if his joints had frozen as surely as his blood had when he realized he’d been spotted.
What would they do if they caught up with him, he wondered. If they had watched unmoved while a child was hurled into fire then his fate would be similarly untroubling to them he told himself as he stumbled on.
He shot another glance over his shoulder, now only ten or fifteen yards from the possible cover of the trees.
Two of the men were already heading down the bank opposite, leaping down to the waters edge just as David had done. The first of them landed heavily, fell backwards and shouted angrily. His companion was more sure-footed and hurtled across the islands in the water, pursuit the only thing on his mind it seemed. David knew that the trees would offer him no hiding place or shelter. His only hope now was to get back to the RV.
He sucked in a breath, realizing that the vehicle was parked more than two hundred yards away across open ground.
And he was sure the man was gaining on him.
The second figure also was hurrying across the river, splashing through it in places, sinking up to his knees on more than one occasion. As David ran, a third man dropped down, rushed across from the far bank and began chasing him. The breath was already catching in his throat as he ran, his feet pounding the dry ground.
He was still a hundred yards from the RV.
All three men were now on the same bank as David, two of them slowing their pace slightly. It was the leading man that concerned him. He was less than thirty yards away from David and he was gaining with every stride, his face twisted in an expression of rage. David tried to coax more speed from his already aching muscles. He felt pain at the back of his thigh and thought for a moment that he’d pulled a hamstring but he forced himself on, knowing that the leading pursuer was now uncomfortably close. He could hear words being shouted too, whether they came from the leading man or from those behind him he had no idea and he didn’t intend turning to find out. Instead, he forced himself on towards the RV.
Fifty yards.
He could hear a low rumbling sound and wondered if it was the roaring of his own blood in his ears.
David hurdled a deep rut in the ground, thinking how lethal it would have been had the land still been bathed in blackness. Only the moon had enabled him to see and to avoid it. The man pursuing him wasn’t so lucky. He tripped and went sprawling, grunting loudly as he hit the ground. David ran on.
Thirty yards.
Grateful for the slight respite, David hurtled onwards towards the RV, a tightness beginning to spread across his chest. He could still hear a low rumbling but still could not identify its source. Both his thighs were tightening up now and he knew he couldn’t run for much longer but the man behind him was on his feet again and, despite the fact that he was moving a little slower than he had been before his fall, he was closing in once again. The other two men were following at a much more restrained pace but their progress was just as inexorable.
Twenty yards.
One of the men shouted something but David couldn’t hear what it was. He was within reach of the RV now. He gritted his teeth against the pain that seemed to be enveloping his entire body. It felt as if his muscles were on fire. Every single one of them ablaze because of their prolonged exertion.
David gasped and headed for the door of the RV.
Behind him, the leading pursuer was almost upon him.
You’re not going to make it.
He reached for the handle of the door, finally realizing what the low rumble was that he’d heard. It was the RV’s engine.
As David grabbed for the door, the RV pulled away from him.
FIFTY-TWO
The vehicle moved forward, its back wheels spinning momentarily as they tried to gain purchase on the dry ground. Dust and parched earth sprayed upwards behind the RV which finally shot forward ten yards, leaving David clutching at empty air.
He ran after the vehicle, aware that his pursuer was gaining on him.
He actually heard the sound of the man’s laboured breathing and turned, expecting to see that he was upon him. David prepared for the impact as the man grabbed for him.
It never came.
The RV suddenly shot backwards, jammed into reverse by Amy.
It slammed into David’s pursuer and sent him flying, the impact lifting him off his feet, hurling him several feet through the air before he landed with a thud on his back, his arms and legs splayed.
David took one quick look at the man, saw the blood oozing from his slightly parted lips and grabbed again at the handle of the RV. This time he made it, wrenching it open and hauling himself inside.
‘Come on,’ Amy shouted, hunched over the steering wheel of the vehicle. In the passenger seat, the girl looked at David impassively.
David slammed the door behind him and tumbled into the RV which moved off
quickly, skidding across the ground as Amy pumped the accelerator.
‘Get us out of here,’ David called.
‘That’s what I’m doing,’ Amy said. ‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know,’ David said, trying to regain his breath. ‘There’s something going on across the river. A child was killed.’
‘What?’ Amy gasped.
‘I saw a child killed,’ David went on. ‘A young girl.’ He looked at the child in the passenger seat. ‘Same age as her.’
‘Are you sure?’ Amy pressed.
‘I wish I wasn’t,’ David sighed.
Amy pointed at two figures that had suddenly appeared ahead of them.
They looked as if they were trying to block the track, to slow the pace of the RV.
Amy put her foot down, watching as the two men leapt aside, hurling themselves away from the onrushing RV. David ran to the back of the RV and peered out of the wide rear window. Through it he could see more figures dashing across the dry ground towards the RV. He counted at least half a dozen, their faces contorted with rage. Some were still running after the RV, attempting to catch up with it. One or two had given up and were merely gazing in the direction of the vehicle.
He glanced towards the river and the ridge beyond, the vision of the young girl they’d had with them being hurled into the flames still strong in his mind.
The scream startled him and he spun around.
The girl in the passenger seat had let out the high-pitched sound and David stumbled back to the cab of the vehicle.
As he did, he heard several loud thuds as something slammed into the chassis of the RV.
Stones had hit it and more followed.
Amy gasped fearfully.
Another stone, much bigger, hit the windscreen.
The glass spider-webbed in one corner but, thankfully, didn’t shatter.
‘They’re trying to stop us reaching the road,’ David said, breathlessly.
Another rock slammed into the nearside headlight, splintering the housing. Pieces of broken plastic and glass skittered across the hard ground. Amy gripped the steering wheel more tightly.
The headlights of the RV had picked out the highway up ahead and Amy tried to coax more speed from the vehicle. There was a sharp turn coming up, the track snaking between two outcrops of trees and David realized that Amy was going to have to slow down to negotiate the turn safely. He shot an anxious glance in the wing mirror and saw that two of their pursuers were still running behind the RV. The manoeuvre Amy was going to be forced to execute might slow them down enough for the pursuers to catch them.
He crossed quickly to the RV door and ensured that it was locked. He did the same with the windows.
As he turned back towards the cab of the vehicle he heard a loud thump and spun round to see that one of those chasing, a wiry, dark haired, man in his thirties, had managed to clamber his way up onto the back of the RV.
He was pressed against the rear windscreen glaring in.
‘Get him off,’ Amy shouted.
David froze for precious seconds then moved towards the rear of the RV where the man was still clinging on. He was holding a large lump of fallen tree branch which he brought down with incredible force.
The loud crash and the explosion of glass startled David who recoiled violently, realizing that the dark-haired man had managed to smash the back windscreen. Cold air swept into the RV and the man shouted something incomprehensible at David who moved to stop him crawling inside the moving vehicle.
From the passenger seat, the girl screamed.
David snatched a frying pan from the stove and, hefting it like a weapon, he advanced across broken glass towards the dark-haired man who had now managed to get the upper half of his body, including the lump of wood he gripped, inside the speeding RV.
‘Bastard,’ David snarled and swung the frying pan as hard as he could.
The blow caught the man across the forearm and he tried to grab the implement from David who merely swung it again, this time with greater accuracy. The rim of the pan slashed the man’s forehead open, blood spurting into the RV, some of it splashing David who struck again. This time there was a dull clang as the pan smacked savagely into the face of the dark-haired man. He lost his grip on the window frame of the RV, groaned and fell backwards, landing heavily on the dry earth below. David stood motionless for a moment, gazing out into the darkness, his eyes fixed on the fallen attacker, his own heart thudding so hard against his ribs he feared it would burst through.
The moment passed and he spun around, gazing through the windscreen as Amy drove on.
The headlights of the RV illuminated the narrow track they’d taken originally and David realized that they were close to the highway again.
‘Come on,’ he breathed as Amy too spotted the wide expanse of tarmac ahead.
She guided the RV onto the road and David squeezed her shoulder with one shaking hand.
The tyres got purchase on the road and the RV sped on.
David looked behind them but saw nothing.
Only darkness.
FIFTY-THREE
It was a long time before anyone spoke.
Amy remained in the driving seat, her foot pressed as hard to the accelerator as she dare, her eyes flicking constantly to the wing mirrors as she squinted through the darkness looking for lights behind them. Following them. Beside her, on the passenger seat, the girl huddled silently, not sure where to look or what to do as the RV hurtled along the night-shrouded highway.
In the rear of the vehicle, David gazed from the wide window, his eyes too alert for any signs of movement or lights that might indicate someone was following. He had no idea what time it was or how long they’d been driving. Time, like everything else, seemed to have lost its meaning in the last hour or so. What he’s seen made no sense and what had happened to them made even less.
