Blackout

by Chris Ryan

  The Taurus swerved viciously to the right, its suspension shuddering as the tyres collided with the rough surface of the scrubland. This is just a suburban cruiser, realised Josh. Not an SUV or a 4x4, and it wasn't designed for driving off-road. Every crevice, curve and rock is going to hit me straight in the spine.

  'The river,' shouted O'Brien from the back seat. 'Head for the river.'

  Josh searched the ground ahead. He was peering through the windscreen, trying to figure out where they were going, but it was impossible to make out anything apart from a

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  few murky shapes. They could be boulders, they could be plants. It was impossible to tell. The car was skidding across the dusty ground like a stone skimming across the surface of a lake, hardly touching its surface.

  The river? What the hell do they mean, the river?

  He checked the mirror. The patrol car had been thrown as they turned off the road. It had taken the driver a few seconds to react. But now powerful headlamps were beaming out across the open countryside, picking up the trail of the Taurus.

  He might be four, five hundred yards behind us, realised Josh. But he's still got us in his sights.

  'Left, left,' shouted O'Brien.

  Josh could feel himself being pressed against the door as the car swerved viciously to the left. Something collided with the car's side with a terrifying thump, crashing "into the metal. He could hear screeching and tearing as the Taurus's frame started to buckle. 'Harder left,' shouted O'Brien.

  Josh drew a breath. At his side, Morant flashed him a smile. 'Hold on to your seat, boy,' he snapped.

  'Why?'

  Morant laughed. 'Trust me, you don't want to know.'

  Josh gripped the black cloth seat of the car. He wondered whether he should put his safety belt on but decided against it. Whatever the health-and-safety monkeys said, seat belts killed as many people as they saved because they stopped you getting out of the car quickly*

  And I may well want to get out of this one in a real hurry.

  Josh looked ahead. All he could see was darkness. What Morant was driving by, he couldn't tell. Instinct, or an encyclopaedic knowledge of the terrain. Either way it was working. So far.

  Suddenly he could hear nothing. The sound of the tyres rubbing protestingly against the surface of the rough ground

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  disappeared. Christ, Josh said disbelievingly to himself. We're flying.

  The idiot's driven off the edge of a cliff.

  Prayer time.

  Next, there was a deafening crash as the car hit the ground. Every bolt in the Taurus shook loose, a huge cloud of steam rose up from the engine, and the lights started flashing on and off. Water was gushing all around them, spitting up against the windscreen and seeping through the door until the carpet at Josh's feet was a sodden mess.

  This is what he meant by the river.

  The engine coughed, then roared. Josh could see Morant stabbing at the brakes, but to little effect. Broken, Josh realised. The steering was erratic, and the suspension had broken in at least two places, making every turn and twist a strain on the car. One thing's certain. This machine's not passing its MOT.

  'Swing right,' shouted O'Brien.

  Morant was twisting on the wheel but the power steering was gone, and Josh could see that the wheels were submerged in two feet of fast-running water. The car was sliding as much as it was being driven. Morant tugged harder on the wheel, and the car started drifting right, skimming across stones and pebbles, then picking up speed as it started to drive along a narrow tributary that -- in the direction they were going -- led away from the river.

  Josh looked behind him. He could see nothing, only darkness.

  No sign of the patrol car. Maybe we lost them. The brakes still weren't working, so Morant killed the engine and let the car drift slowly to a halt. 'Shit, that was fun,' he said, climbing out of the car.

  Josh stood up, slamming the door behind him. About six inches of water were running beneath his feet. He bent down, scooped up a handful and started to drink. The liquid

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  slowly calmed his nerves, and he paused to examine his injuries. Blood was still dripping from his leg, and the cloth of his jeans was stained red on that side. There was some bruising to his calf and his chest where he'd been rammed against the door of the car and hit by the policeman. Otherwise I'm okay, he told himself. Not much worse than usual.

  'There's a dried-out creek, right to the left of here,' said O'Brien, pointing to a turn in the stream about a hundred yards ahead of where they were standing. 'Just follow that. It will take you back to Ferndale. From there you can make you way back to Marshall's house.'

  'Where are you going?' asked Josh.

  'Into the wilderness,' said O'Brien.'We have bases all over this county. They'll never find us because they don't know the ground anything like as well as we do.'

  'Well, thanks for the help.'

  Morant laughed roughly.'Hell, we don't need any encouragement to go up against the Feds. I'm just pissed we didn't finish off that guy in the gas station.'

  It takes all sorts, decided Josh as he started walking. Even out here.

  It was just past two in the morning. It was dark but from the sliver of moon in the sky he could just make out the dried-up bed of the stream that O'Brien had told him about. I can follow that trail, he told himself. It could be twenty miles back to Marshall's house, a four-or five-hour walk depending on how his leg h^ld out against the pain.

  There aren't any choices but to walk my way out of trouble, Josh reminded himself through gritted teeth. I don't want to be around here when the sun rises.

  Dawn was not far away now, Josh realised. He couldn't see any signs of light breaking over the horizon yet, nor could he see any streaks of orange piercing through the dark sky.

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  But he could smell it. There is a freshness to the air just before the sun rises, he thought. You can sense it in the dew hanging in the air, and in the stillness of the air just before the birds wake for the day.

  He had checked his trail a dozen times since he'd been walking, and felt certain that the Sheriff's car that had been chasing them last night had been lost.

  They will still be out there looking for me. But for now they've lost the scent.

  Josh began to recognise the outline of the land. The house was just a mile away. The creek had led Josh back to Ferndale, just as O'Brien had said it would.

  Josh paused. He scanned the empty landscape, looking for any signs of patrol cars, helicopters or any other kind of surveillance. There was nothing. Only a light breeze was blowing across the empty plain.

  The sheriff's office don't know about Kate and Marshall, he realised. They don't know that they are helping me.

  The house looked dead as Josh approached it. No lights, no sounds. He leaned on the frame of the door leading out from the kitchen. The flimsy lock gave way surprisingly quickly. Josh stood alone in the kitchen. He was out of breath and his tongue was parched dry from the walk. Beads of sweat were rolling down his back. He leaned over the sink, splashing his face with water. It felt good against his skin. He reached out for a slice of bread from the packet lying open on the side.

  Bread and water, Joslj reminded himself. The basics of keeping yourself alive.

  The light flashed on. Kate was standing in the doorway. A towel was wrapped tightly around her body, tied into a knot just above her breasts. It stopped just an inch below her hips. 'What the hell happened to you?'

  'National security,' said Josh. 'I got as far as finding my file. The Feds know who I am, but they haven't told the local

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  cops yet.' He looked hard at Kate. 'Who the hell am I?'

  'I don't know, Josh.'

  She walked closer towards him, her eyes flashing towards the dark crimson patch on his jeans. 'You're hurt.'

  Josh nodded. 'Bit of a scrap.'

  A look of anxiety crossed her face. 'You've been shot?'

&n
bsp; 'No,' said Josh. 'The old wound started bleeding.' He looked down into her eyes. 'It gave us away in the police station, leaking out all over the floor.'

  'Come here,' said Kate. 'I'll clean it up for you.'

  She led him towards her bedroom. Josh hadn't been to the back of the house before. The room was small, no more than ten feet by fifteen, with a single bed at one side of it. It was painted pale yellow: the only room in the house that looked as if it had seen a paintbrush at any time in the past decade.

  This can't be the place where she lives all the time, thought Josh as he glanced around.

  It's not a woman's room. There are no cushions delicately arranged. No attempt to match the sheets with the curtains. No cuddly toys or framed photographs. Just a bed, and a dressing table, and a suitcase that has only been half opened.

  'Take ofF your jeans,' said Kate.

  'Yes, doctor,' said Josh, flashing a grin at her.

  He unbuckled his belt and looked towards the bed. With a look, she ordered him to lie down. Josh lay back against the white sheet: he could smell Kate's perfume on the pillow where she had been sleeping just a^few minutes before. The mattress was hard and springy, and Josh could feel the bruises and cuts along his body suddenly start to ache and quiver with pain. His feet were blistered and tired from the long walk, and the sweat was clinging to every inch of his skin.

  Give me a can of Special Brew and I'll fit right in underneath any set of arches in London.

  The flannel felt wet and cool against the side of his leg.

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  Josh glanced up. Kate had already unpeeled the torn bandage, exposing the wound. The flesh was twisted and charred, the hole that the bullet had made in its surface still clearly visible. The blood had dribbled down his leg, drying into the hairs to make a thin, crimson crust. Kate poured some disinfectant onto her cloth, rubbing it into the skin. As she did so, the nerve endings rebelled in pain, jabs of agony rolling up through his body. Then the pain subsided throughout him, to be replaced by a tingling sensation as if a mild current of electricity had just passed through him.

  'That hurts, doesn't it?' said Kate.

  Josh wasn't sure if she was worried or amused. 'I can handle it,' he answered.

  She was leaning across him, applying more disinfectant to his leg. He could feel her red hair brushing across his chest, tickling him. With only the towel covering her body, her legs were naked and he could feel her skin brushing against his.

  He looked up, their gazes making contact.

  He paused, allowing his gaze to linger on her for a fraction longer, then reached up with his hand to run his fingers through her hair. It was soft, and immaculately combed. He could hear the small murmur of pleasure escape from her mouth as his hands started to caress her scalp.

  His head jerked upwards and he kissed her on the lips.

  For a fraction of a second, it was as if nothing had happened. Kate's lips were motionless next to his, and her breathing was calm. Then, like a car with the accelerator jammed down hard, she started to react. Her tongue flicked out to meet his, and her arms slid down across his chest. Her body was smothering him now, her hips grinding into his groin. Josh reached up, untying the simple knot that held her towel in place, releasing her breasts. He held them between his hands, flicking at her nipples with the tip of his tongue, then running his hands down her arched back.

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  'I think there's something in the medical guidelines about fucking the patients,' she said, a giggle playing in her voice.

  'What does it say?'

  Her tongue ran down the side of his chest.'Only if they're cute.'

  Josh rolled Kate over on her back. The sex that followed was tender, yet satisfying. She responded to each touch and caress, guiding him towards the zones of her body that would deliver the fastest pleasure: Josh was surprised by how quickly their bodies locked together, as if they had been preparing for this for weeks.

  Afterwards, she lay on his chest. Josh could feel her heart thumping against his skin. 'You don't live here, do you?' he said. 'Not all the time.'

  'For now, I'm here,' said Kate.

  Her voice was tired, uninterested.

  'This is not for you, Kate,' said Josh. 'It's a wilderness out here. Your husband's dead, you have to move on.'

  She smiled at him. 'Maybe that's what I've just done.'

  'Then move out.'

  Kate closed his lips with the fingers of her right hand. 'You're not well,' she said. 'You need to sleep.'

  At the side of the bed, Josh could see Kate holding a syringe between her fingers. Dawn was breaking through the window: a shaft of orange light was streaming into the room. The needle glistened. 'I don't need it,' said Josh. 'I'll be fine.'

  Before he could even finish the >entence, the needle had pierced the skin of his arm and the pale liquid inside the syringe had already shot into his bloodstream. Josh could feel himself starting to grow drowsier.

  'I'm your doctor,' said Kate softly. 'If I say you need it, then you need it.'

  Josh struggled to keep his eyes open, but sleep was catching up on him fast, forcing him down. As his eyes

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  shut, he could see something. A desert. A rock. A boy shouting, then another one speaking. At him.

  Luke. And Ben.

  He struggled to hold on to the image. But sleep had already overwhelmed him.

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  TEN

  Tuesday, June 9th. Morning.

  Even though his eyes were still closed, Josh could feel the first rays of dawn pressing against them. He squeezed his eyelids shut, maintaining the darkness for a few more moments. An image was playing through his head. A man in some kind of uniform, shouting something. A concrete room. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to empty his mind of every other sensation, pouring all his energy into focusing on the memory. The man was tearing a picture from a wall, shouting at Josh as he did so. But the words were impossible to make out, nor could Josh even be certain that it was him that was being shouted at.

  What the hell does that mean?

  A noise.

  Josh woke up with a start. He looked around anxiously. The room was unfamiliar. It was only when he smelled Kate's perfume on the crumpled sheets that he remembered where he was and what had happened. That scent? What was its name? A

  Josh yawned, stretched, and pulled himself up. The morning air was cool and fresh. At his side, Kate was still asleep: her red hair had fallen across her face. From the slow movement of her lips, he could tell that it would be a while before she woke. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against her forehead, planting a small kiss on her cool skin.

  If it weren't for you, I'd be dead, he reminded himself.

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  Walking through to the kitchen, he started boiling some water. There was no sign of Marshall in the house.

  Kate had dressed his neck wound last night, using some pure alcohol that Marshall had stored in the house: whether it was for drinking or medical emergencies, Josh couldn't be sure. Probably both. It stung like hell as she rubbed it into the thick scab running across the side of his neck. But by the time she covered it again with a smaller bandage it felt better: the skin didn't itch so much, and he could move his neck without pain running down into his spine.

  The leg is strong enough to walk on, if not run. And the neck is starting to heal, Josh thought.

  But still no more than the occasional flicker of a memory.

  Josh took another sip of his coffee, watching the sun rise over the horizon: the reddish landscape of the rocks and the earth blended into the dawn's rays to turn the world orange. Like I've landed on another planet, thought Josh.

  I wonder what kind of family I have? A wife? Children, maybe. I must have a mum and dad, everyone's got one of those. A home town. Places that I recognise, and people that I know. But am I ever going to see them again? And if I do, will I even know them?

  No mind games, Josh told himself. Pull yourself together, man. There's work
to be done.

  Josh poured an extra cup of coffee, and walked across to the bedroom. Kate had rolled over, her hand resting across her face, and he could jsee her breasts gently rising and falling as she breathed. He put his hand on her shoulder, giving it a shake.

  'Coffee in bed,' he said with a bright smile. 'And there's beans for breakfast.'

  Kate rose gently, sitting forward. Her eyes were still sleepy. 'What's the plan? she asked.

  Josh hesitated. He'd been turning the same question over

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  in his mind. 'Luke's mother,' he said. 'That's the only lead we've got.'

  Music was blasting from the house, the volume turned way up high. Josh leaned forwards in the car, trying to get a closer look. One car in the driveway. No lights on. The chances were that Emily Marsden was alone.

  'Shall we go inside?' asked Kate.

  Josh nodded, climbing out of the red Ford Mustang. It was getting close to lunchtime, and the sun was already scorching.The building was just one storey, made from rough stone and with a roof that was a mixture of tin and slate. At the back was a yard, a hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. One section of the wall had broken down, and some shrubs were growing between the stones. If you couldn't hear the music, thought Josh to himself, you might think the place was a deserted ruin.

  The volume of the music increased as they walked together down the pebbled path that led towards the main drive.

  'Dogs begin to bark and hounds begin to howl/Watch out, strange cat people/Little red rooster's on the prowl,' went the song.

  Josh paused. I know that song, he thought.

  Suddenly he could see a picture in his mind. A house. Somewhere in England, he felt sure of that. A woman, with dark hair and a shapely figure. A girl. Aged two, maybe three, a dummy in her mouth. ^

  'If you see my little red rooster/Please drive him home /Ain't had no peace in the farmyard/Since my little red rooster's been gone,' continued the song, the growing voice delivering the words over a solid drum and guitar backbeat.

  The woman was saying something to Josh. The girl was crying. She was looking for her dummy. Josh was trying to comfort her.

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  A silence. The song had ended, and the next track on the album hadn't started yet. As the music faded, so did the memory, disappearing back into the recesses of Josh's mind.