'Sophie?' I tried to make her out in the darkness. Relief flowed through me as she stirred. 'Are you hurt?'
'I ... I feel sick . . .' She sounded dazed.
'Hang on.'
There was movement in front of us as I struggled with Sophie's seatbelt. I heard Cross groan.
'You two all right?' she asked.
'I think so.' I tugged at the catch to Sophie's seatbelt. 'What did we hit?'
But Cross gave a cry and began scrambling over to Miller. 'Nick? Nick?'
He was slumped in his seat, not moving. I hurriedly freed Sophie's seatbelt. 'Can you get out now?'
'I — I think so . . .'
The door on my side was jammed. The hinges screeched in protest as I kicked it open. My legs almost gave way when I climbed out of the car. I leaned on to it for support, light-headed and aching all over. The car had come to rest at the bottom of a shallow embankment. It was upright but canted on one side, the bodywork scraped and mangled. One headlight was smashed and the other gave only a sickly glow, shining sadly into the ground like a blinded eye. The fog was tainted with the smell of petrol, but there was no sign of fire.
Crystalline pieces of shattered glass crunched underfoot as I limped around to the driver's side, slipping on the torn earth and grass. The car was more badly damaged here. The roof had crumpled, buckling the door shut. I tried forcing it open but it was useless: it would have to be cut away before anyone could get to Miller.
Cross was still inside the car next to him, talking urgently on the radio. She'd propped a torch on what was left of the dashboard, and I could see Miller hanging limply in his seat, held in place by the belt. Blood smeared his face and matted his hair, black and shiny in the torchlight.
I reached through the jagged hole where the window had been and felt for the carotid artery in his neck. There was a pulse but it was weak.
'Is he all right?'
Sophie had climbed out of the car and was gingerly making her way towards me.
'We need to call the paramedics,' I said. Even if we could have got him out of the car, moving him ourselves could do more harm than good. 'How about you?'
I could feel her shivering as I put my arm round her. She leaned against me. 'Bit dizzy, and my head's splitting.'
I would have asked more, but at that moment the car creaked as Cross forced her way out.
'Help's on its way,' she said, facing us across the car roof. She'd regained some of her calm. There was blood on her face, either her own or Miller's. 'They're going to try to send an air ambulance but I don't think it'll be able to get to us in this.'
Neither did I. The fog was as thick as ever, and even if there was somewhere for a helicopter to land I doubted it would attempt it.
'What happened?' Sophie asked. She still sounded dazed. 'God, did we hit someone?'
In the turmoil of the crash I'd forgotten about that. 'I'll go and look.'
'No.' Cross was firm. 'No one's wandering off. We'll wait for help to arrive.'
I saw with surprise that she'd taken her gun from its holster. But I was already replaying the snatched images of the figure caught in the headlights, recalling how it had come apart when we hit it. Not like there'd been flesh and bone inside the coat, more like . . . branches.
A scarecrow.
'She's right,' I said. 'We should stay here.'
'We can't just leave them there!' Sophie protested.
Cross was staring into the darkness, but now she turned to face Sophie across the car. 'Yes, we can. If you want to do something, there's a blanket—' she began, and then a shadow charged at her out of the fog.
Miller hadn't lied about how fast she was. The torch beam spiralled
as she flung herself backwards. The figure was almost on top of her but she lashed out with a side kick at the same time as she swung the gun up. I heard a thump as the kick landed but her attacker swung a savage backhanded blow that caught Cross in the face. There was a meaty, bone-on-bone impact, and the policewoman pitched to the ground like a broken toy.
Sophie's scream freed me from my shock. 'Run!' I yelled, scrambling around the car, and throwing myself at the figure.
It was like hitting a brick wall. An arm swung, batting me against the car. The breath burst from me but before I could cry out a hand clamped around my throat. Calloused fingers dug into my neck, pinning me against the bonnet as stars burst in my vision.
In the light from the fallen torch I found myself looking into the Halloween mask features of Jerome Monk.
He stared down at me with eyes that were dead and black. I flailed at him, but the arm beneath the greasy jacket was as solid as a tree trunk. His hand was jammed like a vice under my jaw. I could taste the stink of him, foul and feral as an animal's cage. My head felt about to burst. My sight was going now, the fog seeming to thicken around me. Through it I saw him look over his shoulder, heard the clumsy snap of branches as Sophie stumbled away.
God, no! I tried to shout out but I couldn't breathe. Monk jerked the arm holding me, slamming me back against the car. The air burst from my lungs as something rammed into my stomach. Abruptly the pressure was gone from my throat and I felt myself falling.
Then I hit the ground and the fog closed in completely.
* * *
Chapter 25
I passed out, though only for a few seconds. I found myself in the mud, eyes pulsing with blood and my head throbbing as I tried to draw breath. There was a rushing in my ears.
Through it, as though from a long way away, I heard Sophie scream.
I tried to stand, but my body wouldn't respond. Get up! Come on, move! I clambered on to my hands and knees, mud and water soaking into my clothes. But my vision was clearing now, the blood-red mist lifting. I retched as my diaphragm spasmed. Sucking in ragged breaths, I used the car to drag myself to my feet.
I took a step and clutched at the car again as my legs almost gave way. Cross's torch had rolled against a front tyre, throwing a flat white light across the grass. In it I saw the policewoman. She lay sprawled in the grass, in the same broken posture as she'd fallen. There had been a horrible finality to the sound Monk's fist had made on her jaw.
But there was nothing I could do for her, or for Miller either. Snatching up the torch, I flung open the car boot. The cabin light was broken, but the dim yellow glow might act as a guide when the back-up arrived. I paused just long enough to grab the blanket from inside and throw it over Cross.
Then I went after Sophie and Monk.
I'd only a vague idea of which way they'd gone. The car had crashed on the edge of a wood, and the gnarled trees hemmed me in as I broke into a shambling run. The ground beneath them was a jumble of moss-covered rocks and bog grass which I skidded and slipped on. I slowed, shining the torch around.
'SOPHIE!'
My shout was soaked up by the fog. There was no answering cry, no sign of a struggle. The only noise was my own hoarse breathing and the dripping rustle of wet branches. Monk had planned this, I thought bleakly. Either he'd been watching the house and known Sophie had a police guard, or he'd anticipated it. The phone call had been to herd us away from Padbury, towards where he was waiting. Even the fog had worked in his favour, obscuring the scarecrow or dummy he'd set up in the road until we were right on top of it.
It was still working for him now, making it impossible to see more than a few yards. I looked desperately for any sign of which way they'd gone, but all around me was a shadowy warren of crooked trees.
I'd lost them.
I stood there while the stark fact sank home. It was hopeless. There was no point in carrying on, not when each step could be taking me further in the wrong direction. All I could do now was go back to Miller and Cross and wait for help to arrive.
Numb with defeat, I began to retrace my steps over the moss- covered rocks. I wasn't even sure where the car was, but in the light from the torch I saw the muddy tracks I'd gouged in the soft moss. I started to follow them before I realized. Heart thumping, I swe
pt the beam back and forth in a wide arc across the ground.
Off to one side, just visible in the fog, another muddy trail had been ploughed through the soft ground.
I'd no way of knowing if it was that of Monk and Sophie, but I doubted many people came in here. The moss covered the rocks like seaweed at a low tide as I set off in the new direction. Whoever had come this way had slipped on it just as I had, smearing it off to reveal the dark, wet stone underneath. If this was Monk he was making no attempt to hide their tracks.
Either he didn't expect anyone to follow them or he didn't care.
A little further on the tree line abruptly ended. I found myself on an overgrown trail, one that was obviously used by walkers. The ground was churned to black mud in both directions. I stared at it, panting. Come on, which way?
Unless I'd become completely turned around, the road lay off to the left. If Monk had stolen a car then that would be where he'd have headed. Yet I hadn't heard an engine, and in the silence the sound would have carried even in this fog.
I hobbled into a run and followed the path deeper into the woods.
The torch beam pitched drunkenly as my boots squelched in the sludge. Then, as though the fog were solidifying, a craggy rock face loomed in front of me. The light fell on a barred iron gate set over a gaping cave mouth. No, not a cave, I realized.
A mine.
Lucas had mentioned an old tin mine a few miles from Padbury, but he'd said it was sealed off. Not any more. The rusty gate hung open, a broken padlock half buried in the trampled mud in front of it.
I took hold of the gate. The iron bars were cold and rough. There was a metallic groan as I swung it open and shone the torch inside.
A tunnel of rock ran down into blackness.
My breath swirled in the fog as I stood there. Now what? I hurt all over. I'd chased after Sophie and Monk without giving any thought to what I'd do if I caught them, but I hadn't expected this. The sight of that dark opening in the rock touched on a primal fear that made the hairs on my neck stand on end.
But I had no choice. The blue display of my phone lit up like a beacon in the darkness, showing me what I'd already guessed: no signal. And I'd wasted enough time. Taking out my wallet, I dropped it by the gate so that the police would know where I'd gone. You hope.
Wiping the clammy sweat from my hands, I gripped the torch and started down the mine.
The shaft was barely high enough to stand upright. The air had the cold, dank smell of an old cellar. Water dripped from the roof timbers and trickled in runnels across the sloping floor. My footfalls echoed as I scuffed through it. The shaft began to drop more steeply, a rough-hewn wormhole hacked out by long dead miners. It fell away in front of me, vanishing beyond the reach of the torch.
I'd been walking for about five minutes when the ground began to level out. The shaft opened up, vaulting to twice its height as the walls drew back on either side. But directly ahead my light showed a tumbled mound of rock and shale. At some time in the past the entire roof had come down: jagged timbers protruded from between slabs of granite like broken bones.
The mine was blocked.
Water had formed a shallow pool where the rockfall had partially dammed the run-off trickling down the shaft. I splashed through it, shining the torch around in the hope of finding a way past. There was nothing. I couldn't understand: I'd been certain Monk had brought Sophie down here. But I'd seen no tunnels leading off the main shaft, and the cave-in was impassable.
Or was it? I shone the torch over the blocked shaft one more time. The shadows from the rocks and shattered timbers jerked in the beam, but the fall looked solid. Then I moved the torch again and my breath caught in my throat.
One shadow didn't shift with the rest. It was in the angle where the uppermost rocks met the roof, a patch of impenetrable darkness. I picked up a stone and threw it. Instead of a clatter, it vanished silently inside.
Not a shadow. A hole.
It made sense. Monk wouldn't let himself be boxed in, and with the mine entrance sealed and the main shaft blocked for decades it was possible no one even knew this was here. As long as the gate remained padlocked, Monk could have had the run of the place.
But what lay on the other side?
I tested the nearest rock. It didn't budge. Neither did any of the others. The torch beam cast angled shadows as I carefully hoisted myself up. I reached for another handhold and felt something give beneath my foot.
There was a loud crack.
I froze. When nothing happened I shone the torch down. One of the rotten timbers sticking out from the rocks had snapped. God. I took a moment to let my heart rate slow, then levered myself the rest of the way. Now I could see what had caused the hole. A slab of granite had fractured from the top of the tunnel, leaving a gap high up in the angle between roof and wall. All but invisible from the ground, it was like a toothless mouth, perhaps three feet wide and two high.
Cold as it was, I was sweating as I shone the torch inside. The hole extended for a few yards before the beam vanished into darkness. It was wide enough to crawl through, though not to turn round. The only way to get back would be by shuffling backwards, feet first.
And praying I didn't get stuck.
I lowered my forehead on to the edge of the hole. The granite was grainy and cold against my skin. I can't do this. I thought about the weight of ancient rock suspended inches above me. The roof had collapsed once already. Even if I wasn't crushed I'd no idea what lay on the other side. If I crawled through I might not be able to get back. You've done all you can. Let the police come down here with a proper search team. A craven part of me whispered that it was the best thing to do. No one would blame me: I didn't even know for sure that Monk had brought Sophie this way. And even if he had, what good could I do? The sensible thing would be to go back for help.
And what'll happen to Sophie then? What's happening to her now, while you're dawdling here?
Without giving myself time to think, I pushed myself into the hole. The rough granite grated like sandpaper as I wriggled my way inside, the cold rock striking through my clothes. There was more space than I thought, but then there'd have to be for Monk to get through. If he did. You still don't know for sure. But I was committed now. My breath steamed in the light from the torch as I crawled awkwardly along the rock's dark length. It seemed to take an age before I reached the other end. Panting, I shone the beam into the dark.
I'd emerged at the top of a long, low cavern. It sloped away to one side, ending in a drop-off from where I could hear the gurgle of running water. Whatever this was, I didn't think it was part of the mine. It was little more than a horizontal crack in the rock, barely high enough to stand. Well, you wanted to see what was here: now you know.
Getting out of the hole was difficult. I'd gone through headfirst, so I had to wriggle around before I could swing my legs free. My boots scrabbled on rock, then I dropped down to the slanting floor. The low roof meant I had to stoop as I held the torch in front of me. The cavern's broad expanse sprang to life, deep shadows stretching away beyond the limits of the beam.
'Sophie?' I called. 'SOPHIE!'
My shout rang out, echoing into oblivion. The only response was the chunter of the underground stream, invisible in the shadows. Aiming the torch into the darkness at the far side, I started across.
I had to bend almost double. According to Lucas, there weren't any cave systems in this part of Dartmoor. Yet this was obviously a natural formation, not man-made. Looks like he got it wrong, I thought, and as I did I banged my head on an outcrop of rock. I reeled back, more startled than hurt.
And dropped the torch.
No! I grabbed for it but missed. It clattered on to the rock, the light flickering as it hit. I tried to trap it with my foot but it pitched past, skittering and bouncing down the slope towards the drop-off. Its beam threw crazy patterns as I scrambled after it, but it was rolling too fast. Then it reached the edge, and as though a switch had been flicked I was plunge
d into darkness.
I didn't move. The enormity of what had happened stunned me. I stared into the blackness where the torch had disappeared, hoping to see a faint glow. There was nothing. The dark was so complete it seemed to have depth and weight. Now I couldn't see it, the vast weight of rock all around me seemed even more oppressive.
The heavy silence was broken only by the splash of unseen water. Don't panic. Think it through. My hand was unsteady as I reached into my pocket for my phone. I gripped it tightly as I took it out and thumbed a key.
A blue glow threw back the dark as the phone's display sprang to life. Thank God. It wasn't as bright as the torch but right then it seemed beautiful. Holding it up like a miniature lantern, I began edging towards the drop-off that the torch had rolled over. It was possible the fall had just loosened a connection: if I could find it I might be able to get it working.
The Calling of the Grave Page 24
