Recoil

by Andy McNab

  I frowned and very, very slowly placed a finger over my lips. Hers wasn’t the only movement I’d seen.

  There was something in my peripheral vision, near the river.

  Very carefully, I checked the AK’s safety lever was still fully down, then tried to minimize every single movement as I lowered myself behind the cover.

  There was a shout from the other side of the deadfall, followed by laughter. A few seconds later there was another, and this time it was closer.

  I was still kneeling behind the tree-trunk. My eyes darted around like they were on springs – as if I was going to see anything with a big lump of wood in front of me. What else could I do? For now, the AK wasn’t our biggest weapon; concealment was.

  I opened my mouth to cut internal noises; external noise was what I needed to absorb and process.

  A sharp burst of 7.62 shattered the silence, followed by an explosion of bird wings as hundreds flapped and screeched just beneath the canopy.

  There was another burst of laughter out there in the trees. Yin and Yang whimpered to themselves as they lay on their bellies, their faces in the leaf litter, fingers clenching the mud as if they were digging a nice big hideaway.

  I controlled my breathing through my mouth and slowly lifted my head. Using the foliage hanging from a branch as camouflage, I looked over the deadfall.

  I saw movement down by the river, lots of it: maybe ten, fifteen bodies, blurred by the trees, heading downstream. If we’d stayed near the track, we would have walked straight into them.

  They were mooching along in groups of two and three, all over the place, no hint of a proper formation, but all carrying. They had to be Kony’s men from the south.

  The shouts and banter got louder. One guy lit two cigarettes and handed one to his mate. The smoke hung in a small cloud under the canopy.

  I lowered my head again and, staying on my knees, got my mouth to Silky’s ear. ‘We wait. Keep still.’

  I leaned down to Yin and Yang and tapped gently to get them to turn their heads and open their eyes. I motioned them to keep still. I put my finger to my lips and gave them an exaggerated smile, trying to bring down their pulse-rate. They looked at me as if I was a madman.

  The first group of voices moved closer, then receded as they passed from our right to left, in the direction of the mine, and it wasn’t long before I smelled more cigarette smoke.

  So far so good. No voices too close; no rustling of the leaf litter just the other side of the deadfall.

  I breathed slowly and shallowly. Yin and Yang trembled, trying their hardest to hold it together. They screwed up their faces, eyes tight shut. Maybe they thought that if they couldn’t see they couldn’t be seen. Or maybe they were doing their best to block out what was happening because they couldn’t hack it.

  Silky was curled up on the ground. Her eyes were wide open, but not to take in what was happening. They burned into mine.

  Voices came from closer than the track – two, three guys muttering to each other. Following sign we had left?

  I gripped the weapon to my chest, left hand on the stock, gently pulling up safety to the first click before easing my index finger into the trigger guard.

  My head always switched off when these things happened. I didn’t know if it was the training, experience, or that I was just too thick to think anything but – I’m in the shit and I’m going to die soon, so everything else is a bonus.

  One voice had got so close he could have been talking to me.

  Less than two metres away and closing.

  In a second or two he’d be able to see over the deadfall.

  Fuck it.

  I jumped up, weapon in the shoulder, and brought it into the aim, both eyes open.

  As I bounced down again into a semi-squat to make use of the cover, I registered three bodies.

  I squeezed the trigger at the blurred faces in front of me. The burst dropped the first guy at point-blank.

  The other two were still shadows to my right as his blood splattered across my face.

  They flapped and tried to get their weapons off the shoulder.

  I swung mine up to drop them – and held fire.

  One was a kid.

  I pointed the weapon at the ground in front of them and blasted away a patch of leaf mould. The man ran and the kid froze, staring, shaking, his eyes huge with fear. He tried to lift his weapon. I cabbied off another burst at his feet and he got the message.

  Down on the track, the rest of their gang went ballistic. Shouts, screams, crazy fire.

  I swung round to Silky and the Chinese. ‘Run! Over the high ground! Run! Run!’

  A few minutes ago Yin and Yang had been in the final stages of exhaustion. Now their feet sprouted wings.

  I turned back and let the rest of the magazine rip towards the river, keeping their heads down that few seconds more so the others could make distance.

  I couldn’t help myself. I had to check the body the other side of the deadfall.

  Weapon still in the shoulder, I looked past the butt. His face had almost disappeared into a mush of bone and brain matter, but his undersized torso had the pot belly of a malnourished child.

  I fired another quick burst, then turned and chased Silky’s back, changing mags on the run.

  6

  Half the guys behind us probably didn’t even know what they were firing at. They’d heard shots and loosed off blindly with some of their own. Good. The more confusion the better. And if we could get over the high ground we’d be out of their line of fire.

  I caught up with the others and ran on ahead. I had to set the pace. I carried my weapon in my left hand, and held the other out behind me to grab hers. Yin and Yang could fend for themselves.

  I could no longer hear rounds or screams, or anything but my own breathing. My legs were no longer heavy; I was moving like an Olympic runner.

  The euphoria didn’t last long. There was a piercing scream immediately behind me.

  Man down.

  I turned to see Yin in the mud, his back arched, gulping for air. His legs flailed like he was trying to kick away an imaginary attack dog.

  Yang stooped over him, trembling. Tears streamed down his fat little face as he screamed at his mate in Chinese. I hadn’t a clue what he was saying: I couldn’t tell whether he was telling him to get the fuck up and start running, or whether he was rattling off an order for takeaway.

  Yin had taken two rounds, one in the shoulder, one in the back. There was a big exit wound in his chest. He was fighting it, his arms and head twitching, but his feet kicked less and less.

  By the time I got to him, he was gulping his last few breaths.

  I pulled at Yang’s arm. ‘We’ve got to go!’

  I could see shapes beyond him, people bobbing up and down, confused, shouting, firing.

  Rounds ripped through the foliage and stitched the ground near us. I had to kick him to get him moving. ‘Let’s go! Let’s go!’ I pulled him along as I started running, then let go and grabbed Silky again. He was a big boy: he could look after himself. She was a different story.

  7

  Silky stumbled and fell and her face hit the ground. Yang tore past us in blind panic. As I gripped her, blood leaked from her nostrils.

  We plunged on, trying to catch up with Yang, who wasn’t stopping for anyone. He was riding his own ghost train.

  We skidded on the wet mush, stumbling over rocks and fallen branches, flailing to regain our footing. I tripped and jarred both knees on the edge of a rock. It felt like they were on fire. Rounds pinged off the trees all around us and buried themselves deep in the wood.

  Silky pulled me up. My chest heaved as I gulped in oxygen.

  I heard long, wild, automatic bursts behind us. Angry shouts echoed through the trees.

  We got moving again. Fuck knows where Yang had got to. I didn’t bother checking. It was distance we needed, not the state of play.

  We crested the high ground and moved downhill, suddenly free of t
he nightmare behind. But, sure enough, there was another ahead.

  As we scrambled downwards, the rush of water became almost deafening. Silky was struggling.

  Then we both had to stop.

  Our path was blocked by a red and muddy torrent. Was this the same river that had curved round the high ground, past the mine? Fuck it. Where it came from didn’t matter. Getting across it did.

  I tried to find a safe place to cross. I might as well not have bothered. If I’d doubted the strength of the current I only had to look at the chunks of uprooted tree that were surging downstream. Wherever I chose, it was going to be a major drama.

  I looked along the riverbank for Yang, but there was no sign of him. We couldn’t wait.

  I yanked my vest from my trousers, then untied the bottoms of my OGs. The weight of trapped water in clothing can slow you down – then drown you.

  ‘Silky, pull your shirt out. Hurry.’

  She had collapsed into the foetal position, her arms wrapped round her legs. Blood dribbled from her nose on to her mud-covered cargoes. Just feet away the water crashed angrily against the rocks. She looked at the river, then at me. ‘No, Nick – we won’t make it.’

  I wasn’t listening. I’d seen her do laps of Lugano’s lido. As soon as the boys came over the high ground she’d be in this river, with or without me.

  I checked along the opposite bank, following the current to my left, trying to work out where we might end up. I could see downstream for about two hundred and fifty metres, then the river bent and disappeared into dead ground. The opposite bank was two or three feet above water level, with plenty of grab – foliage and tree roots exposed by the current as it carved away the red earth. I had to assume the worst: that there was a massive waterfall just after the bend, which meant we had two hundred and fifty metres in which to make our way across.

  She stood, her head buried in her hands. She knew as well as I did that this was the only way out of here.

  My chest harness came off and went into the river along with the AK and gollock. The weight would kill me and the gollock could cut me or get caught up on shit and drag me down. The sat nav went into my pocket; it was about to get the ultimate troop trial.

  I held out my hand and we waded in together. I wasn’t even thinking about any follow-up. There’d be fuck-all I could do about it anyway. Water sluiced over the top of rocks and there was no way of telling how deep it was.

  I fought the current until it was up to my waist and Silky’s chest. Then, with my next step, I was into fast-flowing water, tons of it, tearing at my legs, threatening to throw me off balance. I held her tight, whether to support myself or to help her, I didn’t know, but no sooner had I lifted my other leg than the weight of the current whipped it away from under me and we were swept downstream.

  Her hand was torn from mine.

  We each had to fight our own battle now.

  She stared at me, eyes wide with fear. Both of us kicked and thrashed to keep afloat and make some progress towards the opposite bank, but the surge was dragging me under.

  8

  I kicked back up to the surface, forcing myself to breathe in through my nose, only to choke as I took down yet more gritty water.

  I got a glimpse of her, kicking and trying to keep her head up, but only for a moment, then the water took me under again. As I came up, fighting for air, I heard her somewhere in front of me.

  ‘Nick! Nick!’

  I looked, but saw nothing in the torrent.

  I was dragged back down and inhaled more river, but this time, as I scrabbled my way to the surface, the current had carried me almost to the far bank. It wasn’t dying, though. The river curved to the left there, and I was on the outside of the bend, where the force of the water was at its fiercest. An eddy caught me and threw me against the bank. I flung out my hands, trying to grasp at anything I could.

  I forced my eyes open again but they stung too much. Thrashing around blindly, my left hand connected with something solid. I made a grab, but whatever it was gave way. The next thing I knew, my right arm had hooked into a root. The current swung me round and pressed me against the bank, and my feet touched the riverbed. I clung to the root and took a series of deep breaths. Downstream of me nothing moved except severed branches and debris caught in the flow.

  ‘Silky! Silky!’

  I struggled against the weight of water until I could reach out with my free hand and grab another root higher up the bank. I hauled myself up until only my legs were left in the water.

  Suddenly I was lying on the bank, chest heaving. As soon as some strength returned to my limbs, I rolled on to all fours, then staggered to my feet.

  I followed the bend in the river and more dead ground came into view with each step. Just a hundred metres on from the bend, a massive deadfall from my side of the bank had all but spanned the river.

  At the far end of it Silky was clinging to a branch on the downstream side, just metres from safety.

  I fought the urge to run straight to her. All she had to do was hang on. I moved back into the canopy, lying down about twenty metres short for one last look. The contact group might have patrolled this far or even used the tree to cross. It would be a natural point for them to check, in case we knew about it too.

  It was a new fall, not a dead one, hit by the lightning. The trunk had been split and a metre of it was still sticking out of the ground on my side, its core clean and bright against the scorch-marks of the strike. I would have to swim the first five or so metres.

  One last look, then I ran and dived into the water, hoping I’d make the five metres, or that the current would swing me into the trunk.

  Arms milling like a lunatic, I kept pushing forward as the water took me. I banged into the trunk at its fracture point and held on, fighting the flood as it tried to take my legs with it. Gulping for air, I heaved myself up and climbed on to the trunk. No time to rest. I crawled as quickly as I could towards the far bank.

  I grabbed a branch with both hands and pulled down with all my weight. I twisted and pulled, and finally it snapped away from the trunk. I didn’t bother stripping it.

  She didn’t say a word, just stared at me with huge, pleading eyes. This was not a good day out.

  I straddled the trunk and pulled off my OGs.

  ‘Take it with your teeth!’ I had to holler above the roar of the water as I used the branch to pass down the end of one OG leg, knotted to help her grip. I’d knotted the end of the other leg too. ‘Listen to me, OK?’

  She shook the water and hair from her face. Her eyes kept flicking towards the OG leg that was her lifeline.

  I kept hold of my end as I dangled the other above her head. There was no way she could let go of the deadfall, even with one hand, without being swept away. She had to grip the leg with her teeth first.

  I manoeuvred the material within reach and she clenched her teeth on it. I could see from her expression that she wasn’t going to let go.

  ‘Silky, look at me.’ She had to understand exactly what I wanted her to do. ‘When I say the word, I need you to let go of the tree and grab the knot with both hands. Got it?’

  She nodded.

  Wrapping the knot round my wrist, I braced myself.

  ‘Now, Silky. Now!’

  She let go of the tree and the current grabbed her. There was an almighty jolt, then what felt like a herd of huskies pulling on a leash. I held on to my end like a man possessed.

  ‘Kick, Silky. Kick.’

  The pendulum effect of the current swept her in towards the bank like a hooked fish. She grabbed a branch to stabilize herself; I dropped on to my chest and we linked arms. She didn’t need to be told what to do next. I heaved and rolled and she used my body as a climbing frame. A moment later she was lying beside me on solid ground, coughing and fighting for breath.

  I hauled myself to my feet and picked up the OGs. ‘Come on. We’ve got to get in cover.’

  She stood for a second, then collapsed. Her right ank
le was swollen and red.

  I bent down and managed to manoeuvre her on to my back, and her head lolled over my shoulder as I staggered uphill, into the trees. She moved her face close to mine. ‘Thank you, Nick.’

  She should have saved her breath. We were back on the wrong side of the river.

  9

  We moved into cover and I laid her down against a buttress tree. I leaned against it too, my lungs sucking in air greedily as I looked about and listened.

  There was no gunfire above the roar of the river, no shouting. Yin and Yang crossed my mind, but not for long.

  ‘Can you feel your toes? Give them a wiggle, see if you can feel them. Push them up against your boots.’

  ‘Nick, I’m a doctor, remember?’ She tried anyway, and winced. That was a good thing: if she could feel the pain, there was still circulation in her foot. Her ankle was blowing up like a football.

  The heat and humidity hit me with a vengeance. I thought out loud as I dipped into my pocket and pulled out the sat nav: ‘Let’s see if this thing’s waterproof or not.’ I didn’t know whether I was trying to make her feel at ease, or myself.

  The display was cracked and water had flooded in. It was fucked. I shoved it back in my pocket. I might be able to take it apart and dry it out, but not until we got back to the airstrip. But even if we took a chance on the tree-trunk and the last five metres of water, the airstrip was too far for me to travel with a body to carry and nothing but an old prismatic compass to show me east.

  Silky bent forward, inspecting her boot, as if she had X-ray vision.

  I reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. ‘Change of plan.’

  10

  I checked the kangaroo round my neck. It was just after midday and we still had about six hours of daylight.

  I’d have to carry her on my back, and I knew I’d soon be too fucked to talk. ‘Why come here, of all places, to get out of my way? Aren’t there enough nice rivers in Italy for you to play about in?’ I tried to make light of it, but I knew I wasn’t kidding anybody.