by Unknown
Nicola had to think fast. She had no phone. She had no car. The nearest people were in Auchmithie, and that was at least fifteen minutes of running across muddy fields. There wasn’t time. She didn’t know where Neil was taking David, but if it was out at sea and she lost sight of them, then it was all over. She made a decision. She waited until she was sure Neil wasn’t looking back up the ravine and began searching for the start of the path that led down to the sea, keeping a watchful eye on the figure down below and ready to dodge for cover if he looked her way.
‘Fucking hell.’
David heard the sound of swearing over the shush of the sea lapping in on the shore next to him. He was lying on the beach, his hands tied behind his back, his feet bound together. He rolled over onto his side to look in the direction of the voice. Neil was dragging a small wooden boat towards him, muttering under his breath, a large crescent of grass-smothered cliff face looming behind him.
‘You never told me she was so resourceful,’ said Neil, noticing David was awake.
‘What?’
‘Your fucking girlfriend. She’s escaped. I should’ve tied her to the fucking bed, not the radiator. What a fucking idiot. Anyway, that means she’s off for help, so we’d better get a bend on. Luckily I got rid of her car, so we’ve got a bit of time.’
Nicola had escaped, fucking good for her, thought David. But then, shit, that left him alone with this fucking maniac. Shit.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Look, Neil, she’s gone, the game’s up, surely you can see that? Let me go and we can sort something out.’
‘Exactly how can we sort something out?’ said Neil, dragging the boat to the edge of the water, so that the prow was being slapped by little waves. ‘You know I killed Gary, so how can I possibly let you go? And don’t even bother saying you won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you were going to say next. Was that what you were going to say next?’
‘I was thinking about it.’
‘Well, don’t waste your breath. It wouldn’t actually matter whether or not you did ever tell anyone, I wouldn’t know whether you had told anyone or not, and I would always know that you were out there and I would worry about whether you would tell someone some day. I’m not about to put myself in that position.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Good question. I don’t know. I need time to think. Which is why we should stop talking shite and get in the boat. Now, to make things a little easier, I’m going to untie your legs. I already carried you down that fucking path,’ he glanced back up at the ravine behind him, ‘which was probably a mistake. You’re not a fucking baby, and you can walk from now on. But it goes without saying, don’t get any ideas. The first time you try to run off I’ll kick seven shades of shite out of you. The second time, I’ll probably just kill you, to fucking hang with it. OK?’
David just nodded. He felt barely capable of walking, let alone running anywhere, so he passively lay there as Neil cut through the plastic bindings around his ankles with a dangerous-looking knife he flicked from his pocket.
‘What about the wrists?’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you? You think I’m a fucking idiot?’
‘Just thought I’d ask. You don’t ask, you don’t get.’
‘Got any other stupid questions, before we go?’
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘You already asked that one.’
‘You didn’t answer.’
‘That’s right. I didn’t. Now get in.’
David didn’t see any alternative. He looked back up the ravine. Nicola was free, he was genuinely thankful for that. She was out of this whole mess. She would surely go for help, but what form would that take? How do you even get in touch with the coastguard, and how long did they take to get their shit together? Or would the police be quicker? In one sense, he was glad it wasn’t him having to explain the situation to the locals in the But ’n’ Ben, then again to the coastguard, the police or whoever else, but then he realized that was ridiculous. He would much rather be doing that than be here, in the hands of a fucking madman who would probably just push him over the edge of the boat when they got far enough out to sea. But he wouldn’t want to swap positions with Nicola – that would put her here. Was that what love was, refusing to swap positions with your lover to place them in the arms of a psychotic killer? It felt like as good a definition as any to him at that moment, although he could see how you might have difficulty working that into a love song.
What if Neil did push him over the side of the boat once they were out at sea? His hands were tied, he wasn’t that good a swimmer anyway and, even in summer, the North Sea would freeze you to death in a matter of minutes. He’d heard somewhere that drowning was a particularly calm and peaceful way to die, but he figured that was a lot of bullshit. There was no such thing as a calm way to die if you didn’t want to fucking die. And he very definitely didn’t want to die. He wanted to live, with Nicola, with Amy, with his memories of Colin and Gary, and his memories of this moment, and all his possible futures ahead of him. He wanted to be able to reminisce one day in the future with Nicola, shaking their heads in disbelief and laughing about the time that nutter Neil had held them both captive, then she’d escaped and gone for help but it had come too late, because he was already dead…
Fuck. Fucking fuck. He had to think straight. He was going to die, and he had to do something about that. But what? He had been battered half a dozen times since Neil captured him, and it felt as if he was only a thin stretch of consciousness away from passing out again. He had to try and stay calm. Keep on Neil’s right side. Don’t rock the boat, so to speak. Part of him couldn’t believe he was making bad jokes like that to himself at a time like this. What a fucking idiot. What a fucking waste-of-space idiot. Why had he even come back to this stupid part of the world? Every time he came back, someone else died, only this time it was going to be him. He felt like crying, and then got angry at himself for being so pathetic.
‘Hurry the fuck up, will you?’ Neil was standing by the boat, toying with that torch again. It hadn’t escaped David’s notice that he’d used a knife to undo his ankle ties, so there were any number of ways in which Neil could help him become a corpse, nice and simple. With a heart as turbulent as the North Sea in front of him, David climbed into the boat and Neil pushed them off, starting the outboard motor with a putter and a puff of diesel smoke and pointing the boat south-west, heading towards the stretch of cliffs between them and Arbroath.
Nicola watched them take to the sea and increased her speed down the cliff path, taking the rough steps in leaps and scrambles. She was sure they hadn’t seen her descent. By the time she made it to the shore they had only been on the water for a few minutes, and were still some way from clearing the headland at the south-west corner of the bay. She headed straight for the large rock from where she’d seen Neil retrieve a boat and sure enough, there were two more small rowing boats hidden there. She could hardly believe he’d left the boats here, knowing that she’d escaped. Maybe he hadn’t seen her after all. But surely he would’ve come back up to get her in that case. Then it clicked – he had seen her, but he’d assumed that she would run off for help. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she, being a fucking idiot helpless woman, would try and follow them without anyone else as back-up. Typical fucking man, she thought. OK, not all men, just the uber-macho, psychopathic killing machine ones.
Of the two boats in front of her, one didn’t have a motor on it. She flipped the other one and it didn’t look up to much either – paint almost completely peeled off, the rather flaky wooden planks looking as if they might spring apart given the slightest provocation. It would have to do. She started pulling it down to the sea, struggling at first with the inertia of the sand, but gaining momentum as she went. Out at sea Neil and David were nearing the headland. In a few more minutes they would be round it and out of sight. She ran ro
und the back of the boat, heaved it into the water and jumped in. She had no idea about these outboard motors, but she’d seen them used on television. There was always a cord to pull, wasn’t there? She hunted around under the motor and her hand clunked against a built-in storage box, secured with a padlock. She felt around the box and found a thick, oily cord coiled up behind it. She gave it a yank. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing. Looking up, she could see the other boat almost at the headland. She pushed her feet against the stern of the boat and pulled as hard as she could, jerking backwards and falling over into the boat as the motor sparked into life with a whine like a scooter’s engine. A pungent mix of diesel fumes and rotting fish surrounded her.
She sat up and started guiding the boat. Ahead of her she could still see the other boat, slowly edging its way around the next headland. She headed straight out to sea rather than follow it around the bay, giving her a better angle to keep it in her sights. She wondered about David. Was he all right? Was he even still alive? Surely he must be. Why would Neil be taking him anywhere if he was already dead? But then maybe he was just going to dump the body out at sea. The boat was small on the horizon, but it looked as if the two figures in it were sitting upright. She couldn’t believe she was thinking as logically and calmly as this about someone’s possible death, but then she’d become used to thinking about death since David had come back into her life. If only she hadn’t emailed him that day, asking him to that stupid school reunion, she thought. But then if she hadn’t, they would never have met up again. And if they hadn’t met up again… She realized that she loved him. Not in the sappy love-song meaning of the word, but she clearly felt strongly enough to be chasing a bloody maniac around the Angus coastline in an effort to save his life. That would do as a definition of love, wouldn’t it?
She noticed it was getting a little darker. The skies were still full of grey, drizzling clouds, but whatever sorry excuse for a sun was lurking behind them, it was thinking about giving up on the day. She noticed as well that she was having to navigate between strange little flags bobbing on the surface of the sea. Probably the sites of lobster pots strung out along the seabed, she thought. She momentarily imagined herself as a lobster, scuttling along down there in her big shell without a care in the world, only to find a trapdoor snapping shut behind her. Within twenty-four hours she would be some posh bastard’s dinner. What a way to go.
She looked at the boat in front of her, hugging the coastline. Where the hell was Neil heading? She urged the puttering engine on her own crawling vessel to crank itself up and push her onwards through the sluggish mass of indifferent water between her and David.
15
The Cave
David couldn’t really believe what he was seeing. He was sitting in the prow of the boat and for the last few minutes had been stealing glances backwards as the small dot on the horizon resolved itself into a boat. They were being followed and Neil hadn’t noticed. He could only assume that Nicola had managed to flag down help sooner than Neil imagined, and the thought exhilarated him. He was simultaneously thrilled that Nicola was coming to help him and appalled at the thought of her putting herself in danger again after having escaped. Mostly he was thrilled. He wanted to fucking marry that woman right now. He was trying as hard as possible not to make it obvious he was looking at the distant boat, but the allure of the curved shape on the water behind them transfixed his mind, and he felt even more self-conscious if he didn’t look.
They had been on the sea now for something like twenty minutes. He had continued to quiz Neil about their destination, but Neil just navigated onwards stony-faced, steering the boat south-west along the coastline. David tried to distract himself by examining the cliffs and bays as they passed by. He had been along this stretch of coastline only a week ago with Nicola and Amy, but the looming, blood-red sandstone monsters that paraded past now seemed to bear no relation to the relatively benign cliffs of last week. The sky was pressing down on the land, the clouds felt low enough to reach up and touch, and the rain was beating heavily down, spotting the sea around them and draining down in rivulets from the clifftops. The water at the base of the cliffs was swirling, foamy and dangerous-looking, rolling and bashing against the rock face like relentless enemies at the gates of a castle, gradually wearing down the defences to infiltrate their way in and take over. They were closer to the land than they had been last weekend, and now David could see all sorts of detail he hadn’t been able to then – precarious nests lodged into cracks in the cliff, dark, tiny, ominous caves lurking around the base, the swell and chop of waves tumbling over a barely-submerged jagged rock, boulders like giant pebbles scattered around inaccessible bays, strange holes, gulleys, stacks and blowholes appearing everywhere, giant slabs of slanting red stone stacked unstably one on top of the other like biscuits on a plate. The cliffs seemed an altogether more sinister, more dangerous and more deadly place than they had a week ago in the gentle sunshine. It was amazing what being kidnapped by an insane killer can do for your mood, thought David as he winced at swirling, dizzying waves crashing against an isolated stack. A few more years of that kind of abuse and the stack would crumble into the sea, yet another slice of seemingly immovable land succumbing to the relentless, torrential and utterly oblivious power of the sea.
David looked out to the open sea and saw the boat was getting bigger on the horizon – they were being gained on. He wasn’t sure how many people were on the boat: he could make out at least one, but there surely must be more than that, he thought.
To David’s horror, he noticed Neil slowly following his gaze. With his back to David, Neil sat motionless at the stern for a few seconds, taking in the situation in the hardening rain.
‘Jesus fucking H Christ.’ He turned and gunned the engine a little more, egging the boat on through the roughening waters. ‘How the fuck did she get help so quick?’
David was gutted. The other boat was catching up on them, so it wasn’t going to remain a secret forever, but he couldn’t believe that his gormless gawking had led to Neil noticing Nicola and the rescue party. Fucking idiot. But he was still massively relieved that there even was a boat out there following them. That changed everything. At least he wasn’t on his own, it wasn’t just him against Neil, there were others on their way to help, and that gave him renewed strength.
‘Surely there’s no point in going on with this,’ he said.
‘Fucking shut the fuck up.’
‘But they know. Everyone knows. It’s all over.’
‘It’s over when I say it’s over.’
‘But they’re bound to catch us. And the coastguard will be on their way.’
‘Fuck the coastguard, fuck your girlfriend back there and whoever she’s roped into this, and fuck you. They’re not going to catch us because we’re nearly there, and we’ll lose them round the next headland.’
‘Nearly where?’
‘That’s about the tenth time you’ve asked me that. You’re an inquisitive little shit, aren’t you? Here’s an idea – why don’t you shut the fuck up?’
David looked beyond Neil at the other boat. It didn’t seem to be getting any bigger, but it was impossible to tell in the rain. He still couldn’t make out how many people were on it. He wondered if the coastguard really were on their way, and if so, how long they would take to get here. He wondered what Nicola was thinking on the other boat.
Damn it.
She had been gaining on them for a while, but something seemed to have changed, and they were now travelling at about the same speed. Just as she had been confident about catching them up, they seemed to change direction a little, heading right in towards a headland that from here looked a little like a human head in profile. Then suddenly they were round the headland, staying tight to the contour of the coastline, and she’d lost them.
Nicola tried not to panic as she urged the engine forward. She felt frustration at her slow progress through the waves, shouting ‘Come on!’ to no one, her voice disappe
aring into the rain all around her. She kept her eye on the last place she had seen their boat; that was all she could do, stay concentrated and focussed and hope that they’d reappear in front of her once she’d made some way round the headland.
Within five minutes she was at the profiled head where she’d lost them, peering keenly into the rain, the sound of gulls squawking from their nests on the cliff in her ears. Two minutes later she rounded the promontory and… nothing. Fuck! She couldn’t see another boat anywhere. She frantically scanned along the coastline, and out to sea as well, realizing that this latter effort was pointless – they couldn’t have headed out to sea without her seeing them. The light was fading fast, and the rain seemed heavier than ever. She gazed intently ahead along the coast but all she could see was the white fuzz of waves breaking over rocks here and there. For several minutes she scanned backwards and forwards, desperate for something to catch her eye. Nothing.
Think, Nicola. If they’re not ahead of you, and they’re not further out at sea, then they must have landed somewhere. But where? There didn’t seem to be anywhere to land at this part of the coastline – no bay or inlet or anything. She slowly steered the boat in close to the land, the waves rocking her as they rebounded from the bottom of the cliff, forcing her to hold on tight to the side of the boat with one hand. To her left was open sea; to her right, looming so close that it felt like it would topple over onto her, was the cliff, a craggy, dark red terrifying expanse. She continued on for a few minutes until she saw what she thought was a fold in the rock, running vertically for about fifteen feet. As she got up close she realized it wasn’t a fold but a crack, about ten feet wide, with a kind of overhanging flap that sheltered it, like a natural sea wall, from the abuse of the waves. It was a sea cave, almost undetectable from the water except when you were really close in, and certainly hidden from view from the land. She looked around again, up and down the coast, and could still see nothing, no boat, no sign whatsoever of Neil and David. They must have gone inside the cave. But it would be dark. She wouldn’t be able to see a bloody thing in there. Then she remembered the small built-in box nestling under the boat’s motor. It was locked, so she had to boot it open with the heel of her shoe. Inside were a basic first-aid kit, a flare gun and a torch. She lifted the torch and tested it, and a strong beam of light pierced the rain in front of her, playing across the rough sandy rock above the cave entrance. Good enough. With one hand holding the torch and the other steering the motor, she guided the boat slowly into the cave mouth, her pounding heart suddenly becoming loud in her ears as the noise of the rain and the waves outside the cave receded into the background.
