by Holly Watt
The colours grew brighter, minute by minute.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Casey said, and Rory glanced around.
He’ll have a gun, she thought. Rory would carry a gun, always.
And then, all at once, the sun was up, and impossible to look at. The dawn mist faded in the light, and they felt the first flicker of heat.
‘Right.’ Rory stood up. ‘Back to Euzma for breakfast.’
‘I’m just going to show Carrie one more painting.’ Ed’s voice cut across Rory’s. ‘We’ll catch you up.’
There was a pause, just for a moment.
‘There’s no rush.’ Rory moved back to his rock. ‘I’ll wait.’
On the threshold, Casey hesitated. The cave gaped ahead of them. Behind them, in the burn of the day, Rory was settling down.
‘Come on, Carrie,’ Ed’s hand tightened on hers, painfully.
‘I don’t want to’ – a whisper.
‘Come on’ – a jerk.
They crossed the mouth of the cave, Casey tripping on a rock, clumsy. Almost carelessly, they wandered across the cave, pointing out the paintings, here and there.
At the back of the cave, Ed paused.
‘There,’ he pointed.
Round a corner, she saw the inky patches in the dark.
‘Tunnels?’ Casey whispered. ‘Where do they go?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I climbed some of the way down one, when I left you that time before. But I don’t know.’
There were three tunnels reaching away, clumsy fingers into the rock. The chill folded around them like a witch’s cape.
‘We have to try,’ Casey decided. ‘There’s no way past Rory.’
She flicked on the tiny torch on her phone, and stepped forwards. The three tunnels waited, impassive.
‘Let’s try the biggest,’ Ed whispered.
Even in the largest, the roof of the tunnel dropped down sharply as it left the main cave. Casey felt her head brush against the rock. Ed had to crouch slightly.
‘I’ll go first,’ Casey insisted.
She edged forwards, phone in one hand, reaching out with the other. Her hand grazed the side of the rocky tunnel, and she was aware of the millions of tons above her head. One tiny shift, and this little tunnel would disappear as if it had never been, the earth barely moving in the sun.
And no one would know.
She inched forward, the torch lighting a fragment of path. One step, and another, so painfully slow. Almost a surprise that it could be so hard.
You go into the dark, to find the monsters.
She tripped over a rock, and felt it bite like an animal. Behind her, Ed slipped, and she heard rock on bone, and a curse.
Inch by inch, step by step, and the little torch picked out only a few more feet of tunnel.
‘Carrie?’ She jumped as Rory’s voice echoed down from above. ‘Where are you?’
‘Just exploring,’ her laugh echoed back up the tunnel. ‘It’s so interesting.’
She was moving forward again. The roof lowered with every step, and finally she had to drop to the floor and crawl. Behind her, Ed was on his knees too, and she sensed the despair in his movements.
‘Come on, Ed.’
She crept forward. It was awkward holding the torch while crawling, and so slow. She felt gravel under her hand, then a sudden softness that made her force down a scream.
‘Are you OK?’ Ed was just behind her.
‘It’s nothing’ She pushed away the fear. ‘Nothing.’
They inched forward again, turning another corner. Casey had lost any sense of time and space. It was very cold now. They might be a mile from the cave, and they might be fifty yards.
The roof of the tunnel bit down quite suddenly, and she swore and dropped the torch. When she scrabbled for it, and pointed it forward, the torch picked out only rock.
The tunnel had shrunk to nothing. There was a crack, a hand width only, but that was all. Frantic, Casey raked the light here and there. There must be something . . . Must be . . .
But the rock closed in all around. Smooth black rocks, indifferent as strangers, all the nightmares at once.
‘What is it, Casey?’ Ed’s voice came from a long way away.
‘Nothing.’ Her throat was dry. ‘Nothing. There isn’t a way out, not this way.’
The torch flickered for a second, and she felt the blackness close in. She thought of the birds, the shriek up through the sky, and felt the scream building in her chest.
‘We can go back.’ Ed’s voice cut through. ‘We have to go back. Try another passage.’
It was a struggle to turn in the tightness of the tunnel. She scraped knees and elbows. The rock pressed down and down and down.
And the moment they turned, she was lost. Theseus, forgotten. Had there been only one tunnel? Or was this whole mountain honeycombed with paths, all leading to nothing?
They edged back upon bloody knees.
Casey breathed faster and faster, dust filling her mouth.
‘We’ll be all right,’ she said into the dark. ‘We’re going to get out.’
Ed didn’t reply.
But at last, the tunnel roof rose away from them, and finally they could stand. They scrambled along, almost in relief.
Ed slammed off the torch, pushing her hard back against the rock.
‘Why . . .’ But his hand was over her mouth.
Then she saw it: the finger of light reaching into the tunnel. But it wasn’t the daylight, shining down. This finger wriggled and twisted and reached.
A torch.
Rory.
‘Carrie,’ the voice curled down, almost seductive. ‘Ed. Where are you, whoever you are?’
They froze, backs cold against rock.
Pretty little air hostess, face smashed to pulp.
‘I’ll find you, you know,’ the voice came again. ‘I’ll find you. You can’t get away.’
The torch was flickering, here and there. And any minute it would find them. And then . . . And then . . .
Casey felt for Ed’s hand in the dark.
Rory must be up where the three tunnels split off, thought Casey. Uncertain over which one to pick.
He wouldn’t be able to call the others, not down in the cave. He would have to retreat, to call in reinforcements.
Unless he had called them before. Before he came down. Because that meant he only had to wait . . . Cutting off all escape . . .
It seemed like Rory stood there for ever, the torch reaching down like a claw. Casey pressed her head back against the rock, and wished she knew how to pray. The minutes ticked past.
If Rory hadn’t had the torch . . . If they’d stumbled straight into him in the dark . . . Waiting like a cobra in the black.
You go into the dark, to find the monsters.
But finally, the finger of light flickered out, and they heard his footsteps clamber away.
‘Come on.’
They crept forwards. Because any moment, Rory could stop and turn, and listen for their stumbling steps. But there was no choice. They had to edge on through the darkness of tunnel. Finally, they reached the point where three tunnels split off.
‘Which way?’ asked Ed.
One chance. They could all be dead ends. All empty passages, tapering to nothing. And then nothing but that fatal choice: back to Rory, or lying down to die. Abandon hope, and wait for the tunnel to become a coffin.
I am Malak.
‘This one.’ Casey pointed for no reason. Spin of the coin, flip of the dice. ‘It has to be this one.’
Same rocks, same boulders, same choking dust.
Please, Casey bargained in her head. Please.
But the roof began to slope down again.
To stop the panic, she calculated how long it would take for Rory to call the others, to send the alarm shooting round Euzma. Would he wait at the mouth of the cave? Or would he run to destroy their car, leaving them with no escape?
‘Shit,’ said Ed.
; And all at once, she saw that her phone was beginning to fade, the tiny beam of light dying in the dark.
They hurried, steps stumbling. But the torch dimmed every step.
‘I left mine in the car.’ Ed’s voice was apologetic.
‘You weren’t to know.’
Come on, she willed the tiny torch. We can’t die down here in the dark. Not here. But bit by bit, the cave was closing in around them. One moment, the tiny flicker was there, and the next it was gone. A terrible blackness filled Casey’s eyes.
‘Come on’ – she heard her voice, from somewhere – ‘We have to keep going.’
She felt for Ed’s hand, and reached for the tunnel wall.
Inch by inch by inch.
Treasure hunt, hide and seek. A murder in the dark.
Inch by inch by inch.
A step further, and her foot went into nothing, and she screamed as she pitched forward, hand torn away from Ed.
But it was only a few feet, and she hit the ground hard as she landed.
‘Casey!’
‘I’m all right,’ she promised, pulling herself up. ‘Keep going.’
They limped on.
The darkness was alive now, rocks like enemies. She held a hand across her face, in a pathetic attempt to protect her eyes. Every step was slower.
Treasure hunt, hide and seek. A murder in the dark.
She froze.
There was a flicker of light snapping their perfect darkness.
‘It’s Rory,’ Ed whispered.
‘But he can’t have had time,’ Casey began, and remembered her scream, as she fell into space. He must have called the others, and then come back down the tunnel. Rory, the hunter, who would never give in. He had heard her, and given chase. And with his torch, he could move so much faster.
‘Hurry!’ said Ed pointlessly.
They scrambled forward, but the light grew brighter. Rory was gaining on them.
She scrabbled.
Never give up.
Casey gasped.
Far ahead, there was a needle of daylight.
Now it was a race. Casey felt herself crunch into a boulder, and barely noticed.
Behind them, Rory was rushing too.
Casey and Ed dashed to the breach in the rock. It was a narrow gap, out into the sun.
‘Go on!’ Ed pushed her.
Rory’s footsteps were getting closer. They could hear him breathing. It must be only the fear of ricochets that stopped him going for his gun. She felt like a skinful of blood that might burst any second.
‘Casey, you fucking idiot. Get on with it.’
She pushed herself through the gap on her elbows. For a split second, she imagined Rory’s hands on her legs, pulling her back. That visceral terror of being grabbed from behind. And then she was through, leaping to her feet.
‘Ed!’ she screamed.
For an agonising second, his shoulders caught in the gap, and then he was beside her.
The daylight shocked her, the light blinding. She looked around, squinting. They had emerged from one of the deep cracks above the blue-splashed rock. Far below, the two pickups sat oddly peaceful, side by side. There was no sign of Josh and Leo, not yet.
‘Run!’ shouted Ed. ‘Run to the car.’
He pushed her hard and she took off like a hare, down the hillside towards the car.
As she ran, she felt in her pocket for Dash’s penknife.
There was a crash as Ed forced a rock into the gap, and then he was beside her.
‘It won’t hold him for long,’ he said. ‘I shouted into the gap that if he tried to climb out, I would kill him, but . . .’
They were almost at the car. Ed made for the Hilux.
‘Wait . . .’
Casey was stabbing at a wheel of the red pickup with the penknife. Three stabs, and she was round to the next wheel.
‘It’ll slow him down,’ she gasped, scrambling into the Hilux.
Ed looked sideways at her with a smile.
‘Let’s head along the small road,’ panted Casey. ‘Josh said it linked up, somewhere nearly at Ghat, and we don’t want to collide with the cavalry coming up to the caves.’
Ed was turning the car, spinning it round the wounded pickup.
‘He’s coming.’ Ed glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘He’s coming.’
‘Hurry,’ Casey shouted. ‘Hurry!’
Ed accelerated, the Hilux powering away as Rory sprinted towards them.
41
The Hilux kicked up a trail of dust as it roared down the path, up and down the little rises. It was a rough path, and all around was sand – sand that the car could sink into and never escape.
Casey fretted, turning to look over her shoulder.
‘Don’t forget the minefields,’ she said. ‘Josh said they never marked them out here.’
She checked the rucksack. The diaries were still there, with their passports.
‘We should have gone earlier in the night,’ she muttered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘We could never have stayed on the road in the dark,’ said Ed. ‘And God knows who else is out on that road at night.’
‘If Rory managed to wake the others, they won’t be far behind,’ said Casey. ‘Minutes, maybe.’
‘You never planned the escape, did you?’ Ed murmured, almost to himself. ‘The escape was never important, not to you.’
They accelerated along, too tense to talk, the Hilux doing its best. Casey reached for Ed’s phone, sending a message to Miranda.
She couldn’t bear to look back, couldn’t bear to see the black pickup appear like a shadow, hunting her down.
Ahead of them, the little road snaked away to the west. There were hills ahead, the track winding upwards. Ed was gripping the wheel, coaxing every inch of speed out of the Hilux. He took the racing line through a curve and Casey flinched.
‘The mines. Don’t forget the mines.’
The sun was up in the sky now, bright and brutal, the heat of the day starting to burn.
The Hilux bounced as it hit a pothole, tyres spinning in the air before the thud, and Ed cursed. She put his hand over his, just for a second.
Just as Casey thought they might get away, might escape, Ed looked in the rear-view mirror.
‘Fuck.’
Casey spun round. The black pickup was storming along like a nightmare, a few rises back. Small now, but it was faster, that car, so much faster than them.
‘Oh God,’ said Casey. ‘Oh God.’
Behind the black pickup, the Tuareg bodyguards were following in their battered truck.
The Hilux was climbing now, the little road rising up yet another hill. To their right, the road fell away, almost a cliff, a sharp fall, studded with chunks of rock. The bluff curved away to the right, and the road followed along the ridge, until the Hilux was heading almost due north. But inch by inch, the pickup was gaining on them, bouncing effortlessly over the rough dirt track. The Hilux jarred, slowing at every crater in the road. As Ed tried to avoid the worst of the holes, the pickup seemed to leap forward.
‘Hurry,’ said Casey, pointlessly. ‘Hurry.’
The Hilux smashed into a rut, and skewed sideways.
Ed flicked a glance at her. ‘What do you think I am doing, exactly?’
It was only about forty miles to the border now, to where the lazy guard at Tinkarine was dreaming in the sun. Impossibly far. They would never make it.
This was how Aisha Gaddafi escaped, Casey thought, west to safety, with hell on her heels. She had made it.
The Hilux raced over the ground, bouncing, battling, engine screaming with the effort. The road kept climbing, the precipice falling away ever more sharply to the right.
‘Come on,’ Ed begged, foot to the floor. ‘Come on.’
There was a huge bang. A rock shattered a few feet ahead of the Hilux.
‘Fuck,’ said Ed. ‘Fuck, they’ve got the M24.’
Another huge bang. Then another, and the windscreen shattered.
Casey’s phone went. Miranda.
‘Miranda,’ Casey screamed. ‘Where are you?’
‘To your right,’ Miranda’s voice was ice calm. ‘We’ve got the sun behind us.’
Casey looked round, the sun blinding her. ‘I can’t see. I can’t see . . .’
‘I know,’ said Miranda. ‘Don’t try to see us, because it’ll be too bright. But we’re up here, Casey. We came in with the sun behind us. I promise I’m here.’
No one would ever be able to hear the clatter of the helicopter from that distance over the scream of the car engines.
Another huge bang. She could see them now, so close, too close. Josh was driving, Rory and Leo holding the guns, ruthless professionals, going for the kill.
‘Oh God,’ Casey said again.
‘Casey.’ Miranda’s voice cut through her panic. ‘You’ve got to find a way of getting ahead of them. We can’t come in with the helicopter unless we’ve got time to land, grab you and go. The helicopter will be too much of a sitting duck.’
‘I know,’ said Casey. ‘Don’t come in unless it’s safe. There’s no point if . . .’
One of the wing mirrors disintegrated, shattering into a million pieces.
‘Casey!’ She could hear the agony in Miranda’s voice. ‘Oh Christ, Casey.’
Another huge bang, and Ed screamed.
‘Ed!’ Casey cried. ‘Ed.’
He had dropped the wheel, curled over, right hand reaching for his left arm.
The Hilux slowed.
Without thinking, Casey grabbed the wheel, spun right. The Hilux bounced off the road, paused for a split second and plunged over the edge of the bluff.
It was almost a sheer drop, splintering scree strewn with huge jagged rocks. The front end of the Hilux teetered and nosedived, a fairground ride jumping off the track. There was no point in trying to steer the car, but Casey desperately tried, dragging the wheel back and forth. The massive chunks of rock hurtled past, blurred, each one a threat of disaster.
‘Casey.’ She could hear Ed in the distance, but it was lost under the swirl of terror as the car smashed down the precipice. She felt as if she was being shaken to pieces. Her head hit the roof of the car, as it cracked down.
I am Malak.
And then somehow, the Hilux was slowing. Somehow it hadn’t tipped over, crashed, disintegrated. They were reaching the bottom of the bluff, and slowing down again, straightening out.
