by Dan Latus
Ten minutes later he stopped running. For a moment, he stooped and doubled over to catch his breath and to listen. Then he was off again, heading south now. He hadn’t heard anything behind him for a while, and he was beginning to dare to hope he’d lost them.
Now he had to press on to Gimmer Hall. He had to get to Sam and Kyle before anyone else, or hypothermia, did.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was a poor afternoon, threatening to turn into a bad night. Cloud was low on the hills and rain was blowing in from the west on a stiffening wind. She wondered if they could manage, but knew they would have to manage. There really wasn’t any choice.
She knew what Yugov had done to her father, and to his colleagues and friends. Now he had come for her, and for her son. She was under no illusions. The past ten years had made her soft and delusional. But evil had not left the world. Now had come the day of reckoning.
‘Mummy!’ Kyle wailed. ‘I’m cold and my tummy hurts.’
‘I know, darling. But we must keep going. Trust me. Some bad men have come looking for us. We must get out of their way, and wait for Daddy.’
‘Bad men? I didn’t see them.’
‘They were there, in a big black car. I saw them.’
She said no more. She didn’t want to terrify him altogether. They ploughed on, climbing the steep, muddy slope in poor light, with wind and rain in their faces.
Kyle was soon suffering but she couldn’t give into his entreaties. She couldn’t carry him, either. He was too heavy. So she had to require him to keep walking.
How far was it? Ten kilometres? Something like that. Not a vast distance. They could do that, walk that far. However bad it got, they would manage. They must.
She wondered why Yugov had turned up here now, after all these years. How did he know they were here, and why come now? What did he want? Had he come for the money, the money that John had brought from Slovakia?
She shook her head. It seemed unlikely. After all this time? How did he even know they had it? And, again, how did he know where to come? No. It must be another reason.
Then something else dawned on her. Was it possible? She shook her head again. How could he know what her father had told her? It simply wasn’t possible. Surely not? But he might … Forget it, she told herself angrily. It doesn’t matter. He’s here. That’s all that counts.
And it was. She knew that. Yugov was here, and she had to evade him. If she couldn’t, she would find out soon enough what he wanted. They all would.
Rain began to fall more heavily, and with it came a strong, gusting wind. If the hillside had been bad enough, the moor itself was atrocious. They battled on in the teeth of a gathering storm but she began to realize it was a losing battle they were fighting. They weren’t going to make it. It was too far in these conditions. To make matters worse, daylight was almost gone now. Their future seemed to be fading with it.
It was then that she realized she hadn’t heard Kyle for a few minutes. She stopped and leant down to kiss his face and tell him they had to go on a little further.
It was no use. His eyes were closed. His face was wet and cold. He couldn’t hear her. He was spent. Desperately, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. It was no use. He was asleep on his feet, and very cold. She knew they had to find shelter. They had to find it now, before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Three
At last! He stumbled up to the stone wall that surrounded Gimmer Hall. Getting here had taken the best part of four hours, counting the diversions he had had to make. The wall was in a state of collapse along its entire length, but it was still an imposing piece of masonry. He picked his way over it in one of the lower sections, taking care on the greasy stones. It was no time to risk spraining an ankle, or worse.
‘Sam!’ he called as he approached the ruined building. ‘It’s me. Are you there, Sam? Sam, Kyle?’
He waited, the tension almost unbearable, but all he heard was the sound of rainwater dripping somewhere. With a grimace, he took out a small torch from his rucksack. He didn’t switch it on yet. Instead, he called softly again. Still no answer.
Using his hand to shade the torch and create a thin beam of light, he made his way through what had once been a doorway and clambered inside. The torch revealed an open space cluttered with heaps of rubble. The internal walls of the house had long since disappeared, and he could see the entire interior of the building. There was no-one here now, and he could see no signs of anyone having been here recently.
So they hadn’t come here, after all. His head dropped and he sagged against a wall, worn out by the emptiness he had found, along with everything that had happened in the past few hours. He switched the torch off and stood motionless, trying to cope with the disappointment, and with the knowledge that his frantic journey had wasted time and effort. They weren’t here.
The thinking process began to kick in again after a couple of minutes. He straightened up, mentally and physically. They were somewhere else, obviously. The Russians, or whatever the hell they were, still hadn’t got them. That was the good news. Not exactly news, perhaps, but definitely good. Something to cling to.
They were still out there somewhere. Where, though? Where else might Sam have gone? He had no idea. Couldn’t even begin to guess. Gimmer Hall had been his banker.
He soon concluded that he ought to get back home fast. Maybe they would turn up there, after all. It was stupid of him to have imagined they would trek all this way, in the night, and in this weather. They couldn’t have done it. It had been bad enough for him. For them, it would have been impossible.
He glanced at his watch. Gone four now. In another three hours there would be some daylight. He could be back home by then. He’d better go – and be ready for whatever he found there. Maybe a deal could be done with these people. It seemed unlikely, but he had to think positively. While there was breath in his body, he would fight and trade and scheme. It was his family he was searching for, and trying to protect. He would do what it took to keep them safe.
The return journey was hard going. No-one was chasing him now. So there was no adrenaline pulsing through his body to hide the pain and protect against fear, and to force more effort from weary limbs. There was nothing to help make light of the journey. He just had to endure the dull plodge through a wet, muddy landscape in the dark, with all the fear and dread that on the way out he hadn’t had time to think about. He was tired, too, and cold. His body ached from careening around the moor for several hours in the dark and the rain, and it was hard to stave off the growing fatigue.
Just press on, he urged himself. Straighten up! Get back there and fight. You’ve been in bad places, and bad times before. Nothing new about it.
Fight what, though? Fight who? Russian or Ukrainian gangsters? That was probably what they were. One or the other. He didn’t know now, but would find out for sure eventually.
It was time to call in some help. If he didn’t find Sam and Kyle at home, which he didn’t expect, he would do that. To hell with the consequences. He couldn’t fight this on his own.
By six it was still black night, but as the hour neared seven, light began to edge its way across the moor to reveal an eerie landscape. The rain had ceased at last, the relentless, driving rain with a westerly wind behind it. Now the land was cloaked in isolated banks of hill fog and a fine drizzle that soaked any small part of him that had somehow managed to stay dry.
A myriad spider webs glistened across the surface of the heather, where tiny droplets of moisture from the drizzle and mist were caught in their clutches. He stumbled over a pair of grouse sheltering in the undergrowth. They took off belatedly, reluctantly, croaking raucously as with heavy beating of their wings, they attempted lift-off for the first time that morning. I know just how you feel, he thought ruefully. None of us is up to much after a night like that. He tried not to speculate on how his wife and son would be.
His legs were made of rubber. His back ached more than it would h
ave done if he had unloaded a lorry load of bricks by hand. But with the growing light, fresh reserves of energy began to stir, fed by renewed determination and fear. There was so much he needed to do.
He stopped dead, hearing a strange sound, one that was out of place. He stopped walking, stood still and concentrated hard. Nothing. He couldn’t hear it now.
What the hell was it? An odd noise to hear out here. Something almost human about it. A voice, perhaps? No, not that. More likely a trick of the atmospheric conditions and his own fatigue.
He turned and looked around. Nothing. There was nothing to be seen, or to be heard now, either. He shrugged. His ears playing tricks on him. If it wasn’t his eyes, it was his ears. He was in a sad state.
He knew where he was, though. Familiar territory. He hadn’t far to go. Close by was a narrow path he might well have used last night if he’d been able to see it. Even the half-light of the pre-dawn was a wonderful thing when you were used to having your head stuck in a black velvet bag.
There! Again. That sound that had stopped him in his tracks.
He froze for a moment. Then he looked around and made for a particularly thick clump of high heather. He reached down to part the heather.
Oh God, no!
Two bodies: one big, one small.
It was them. He reached for them desperately.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sam’s eyes opened and she looked up at him. She stared, dazed and uncomprehending. He reached down to feel her face. Cold. She was cold, but she was awake.
‘Come on, sweetheart!’ he said urgently. ‘Let’s get you moving.’
He stooped to kiss her face, and then turned his attention to Kyle. The boy seemed to be sleeping. His pulse was strong, though. Thank God!
‘John?’ Sam muttered. ‘You found us.’
‘Of course I did! You knew I would, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. It’s been so cold, John. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘You did well, very well. Stopping here, in shelter, was the best thing you could have done.’
He slipped the rucksack off his back and opened it up. He pulled out gloves and a woollen hat, and handed them to her. ‘Come on, now! Get these on. And here’s a chocolate bar. Eat it.’
Kyle was stirring, too, now. He fitted a hat on the boy. Then he picked him up, and hugged and kissed him, murmuring to him all the while. When Kyle’s eyes opened, he smiled at him and kissed him again.
‘Daddy?’ Kyle said plaintively.
‘It is! I’ve come to find you. Come on, son! Here’s some chocolate for you.’
‘Cold,’ Kyle whispered. ‘I’m cold.’
‘I know you are. But don’t worry. We’ll get moving, and warm you up again.’
The boy was shivering, shaking, which wasn’t such a bad thing. Better, at least, than if the shivering phase had stopped. Sam was shivering, too. They were both very cold and exhausted. It was worrying. What to do for the best?
Getting them both home from here would take a couple of hours, at least. Too long, and probably too far for him to carry Kyle anyway.
He thought fast as he pulled out gloves and more chocolate from his rucksack. Another possibility came to mind. Only half the distance. He could get them there. But he was going to have to get Sam back on her feet first. No point being soft about it. He couldn’t carry them both.
‘Come on, Sam!’ he said brusquely, sternly. ‘On your feet. We’ve got to get moving.’
It was hard going, even though the rain and wind had abated now. The ground was sodden, with black pools of filthy bog water interspersed amongst the knee-high heather. Progress was slow. They splashed on, saturated, worn down by fatigue and cold. No matter how tired and sore they were, he knew they had to keep moving while they still could.
Fortunately, Sam wanted to talk now she was half-awake. That helped.
‘I didn’t know what to do,’ she said. ‘I panicked when I saw Yugov.’
‘Yugov?’ John repeated, aghast. ‘Is it him?’
She nodded. ‘All I knew was that I had to collect Kyle from school, and get out of their way.’
‘I understand. You did well. But save it for now,’ he told her, Kyle heavy in his arms. ‘Wait until we’re somewhere warm and safe. Then we’ll talk.’
‘Where are we going, John? This isn’t the way home, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t. You’re right. We’re heading over to the next valley. It’s nearer, and there’s a place there we can use.’
‘Kyle …’ she began.
‘Kyle’s fine! Aren’t you, young man?’
He smiled down at the boy, and was relieved to see a glimmer come back from him. They were both better than they had any right to be, he thought. They were shivering and exhausted – hypothermia was still a real risk – but Sam had done a good job in sheltering Kyle and keeping them both alive.
As for why she had run in the first place, further explanation could wait. Yugov, though! A nightmare come true. He couldn’t believe it. But Sam wouldn’t be making that up. She wouldn’t be mistaken either.
‘All right, love?’ he asked, turning to her with an encouraging smile.
She gave him a wan smile back. ‘All right,’ she whispered.
‘Another twenty minutes,’ he said. ‘That’s all. Can you keep going that long?’
‘Do you doubt it?’ she responded more briskly, rising to the challenge.
He laughed. His family. He was proud of them.
With arms aching and growing numb from carrying Kyle, he led the way off the moor and down the hillside into the next little valley. He was heading for a building that was enclosed on three sides by a shelter belt of Scots pine.
Sam stumbled and fell into him from behind.
‘Steady!’ he said, gently holding on to her for a moment. ‘Nearly there now,’ he added softly.
She was exhausted. He could see that. They all were, but Sam most of all. And he couldn’t carry her as well as Kyle.
‘Is that where we’re we going?’ she asked wearily. ‘That building? What is it?’
It looked like an old stone farmhouse, which was what it had been until the Ministry of Defence had claimed it, as part of their estate, and put it into occasional use as accommodation for troops on training exercises and manoeuvres.
‘We’re right on the edge of the Otterburn Ranges here,’ he said. ‘That’s one of the MOD buildings.’
‘What’s it for?’
‘Soldiers – the British Army – when they have exercises. We’ll stop there and rest. Get warmed up, as well,’ he added with a grin.
She didn’t bother responding. Her head went down and she got back to putting one foot in front of the other.
Fifteen minutes later, they approached the farmhouse that was no longer the centre of a working farm. There were other houses like it in nearby valleys, MOD properties now, all of them. In some cases, the farms were operated in the traditional way by tenant farmers. In others, like this one, the land was worked still, or grazed rather, by neighbouring farms, but the houses and out-buildings had not been lived in by farm folk for a long time.
John stood still on the faint path through the heather he had picked up and studied what he could see of the buildings ahead of him. No lights. Pretty dark still, especially down in the valley, but no lights showing. No smoke in the air that he could detect, either. No vehicles standing outside. No sound of a generator. Nothing. Almost certainly empty, as these places were a lot of the time.
He glanced up at the sky. Under a thick cloud, a heavy drizzle had started up again. All three of them were sodden and ice-cold already, and this wouldn’t help. But he forced himself to think objectively before they moved on, and did something he might have cause to regret later. What were the options?
He soon came to the conclusion that they didn’t really have an option worth thinking about. To survive, and recover, they had to break into the farmhouse. There was nothing else they could do.
‘John?�
� Sam said tentatively. ‘Is it safe?’
He nodded. ‘I think so. Come on!’ he added briskly. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
Entry proved easy. Out in the wilds, even the MOD seemed pretty relaxed about security. A padlock and a sign warning against entry by unauthorized persons seemed to cover it.
John got in through a window with a loose pane of glass that he carefully removed. Then Sam handed Kyle to him, and climbed through herself. He propped the loose glass back in place.
‘Dark,’ Sam said, sniffing suspiciously.
‘There can be no lights without the generator going, and we’re not going to risk that,’ he told her. ‘At least it’s dry in here.’
They were in the main room on the ground floor. It served as a kitchen and general activity area. There was a Calor gas stove for cooking, a wood-burning stove for heating, and a dozen dining chairs set around a big table. Not much else. Not much else would be needed, John thought. Just somewhere to sleep, which would be upstairs, probably bunk-house style. A quick inspection confirmed that.
Not surprisingly, the house was in pretty good shape, he decided. The MOD knew how to look after its property. A lot of men could be accommodated here at the drop of a hat, and in more comfort – not to mention safety – than they would experience in the likes of Afghanistan and Iraq.
A bunch of keys hanging over the kitchen sink allowed him to unlock the front door. After that, he checked the main outhouse, a converted barn, and found it much the same as the house. He noted the bunk beds and cooking stove, the storage lockers and tool chests, the tables and bench seats. You couldn’t fault the MOD, he thought with satisfaction.
‘I’m not going to risk lighting a fire,’ he told Sam when he returned, thinking of the men who had pursued him so relentlessly. ‘The smell of the smoke might give us away. But we can heat some water for hot drinks. While I connect a gas canister, can you look around to see if there’s anything else we can use?’
It was a simple matter to get the gas stove working. By the time he’d done that, and put on a kettle of water, Sam was back with some sleeping bags she had found upstairs.
