The Drift, page 17
Lucas gazed at him appraisingly. ‘I think it would be easier for you, my friend.’
Daniel’s face darkened. ‘You fucker.’
He lumbered forward, arm raised. Lucas was faster. He jabbed his fist into Daniel’s belly. The bigger man ‘oomphed’ and doubled over. Lucas followed with a knee to Daniel’s head, knocking him down. He raised his foot. Hannah caught his arm. ‘Enough.’
She felt Lucas tense and then relax. She turned to Daniel.
‘Are you all right?’
Daniel knelt on the floor, groaning. ‘Fine,’ he gasped. He looked up at Lucas and scowled. ‘Showing your true colours now, bud.’
Then he staggered to his feet and stumbled back down the coach.
Cassie shook her head at Lucas. ‘Wrong call – you don’t kick someone when they’re down.’ And then she walked after Daniel.
Hannah remained.
‘He tried to hit me first,’ Lucas said.
‘That was still excessive.’
He sighed. ‘You are right. I should apologize.’
‘No. Leave it for a while. Let him calm down.’
Lucas nodded. ‘We are all feeling the strain. Not cabin but coach fever, yes?’
‘Yeah.’
Hannah turned and walked to the windscreen. The morning was lightening. The snow had stopped falling. The trees sparkled. Except for the mess of blood and remnants of flesh that used to be Josh, it looked almost magical, and Hannah was suddenly overcome with a yearning to breathe fresh air again, however fucking much the cold burnt her lungs.
‘We need to get out of here,’ she said.
Lucas joined her. ‘I agree. You really think we could escape through the toilet?’
‘I think it’s worth a try.’
A couple of birds took wing into the sky, dark silhouettes flapping away. Beyond them, a larger shape drew into view. Hannah frowned.
‘Do you see that?’
Lucas was peering at his watch. Now he glanced up. ‘What?’
‘Over there.’
The object was too big for a bird. Too slow. And now Hannah could hear something. The distant whirring of blades.
A helicopter. Circling. Searching. The Department.
‘Shit.’
They watched as the helicopter hovered, dropped then started to rise again before turning and shrinking into the distance. They were looking in the wrong place, Hannah thought. But they were still looking. And they’d be back.
‘Do you really think the Department wants to kill us?’ Lucas asked. ‘You could be wrong. We could be rescued. Get out of this mess.’
‘You don’t know my father,’ she said.
‘I know he is a brilliant scientist.’
Hannah barked out a bleak laugh. ‘That old trope. Brilliant. Inspiring. Brave.’
Lucas frowned. ‘That is funny?’
She looked at him: ‘Let me tell you about my father. When I was eleven, not long after my mother committed suicide, my father brought home four beagle puppies. He told me that three of them had to go to the labs, for experiments. But I could keep one. I had to choose.’ She paused. ‘I picked the smallest, obviously. The one I thought wouldn’t survive being injected with poison or having bits cut off and put under a microscope. I called him Buddy, and I loved that little pup for the whole four weeks I had him.’
‘What happened?’
‘One day, I came home from school to find that Buddy had gone. One of the other beagles had died and the lab needed a replacement, quickly. So, my father took Buddy. I never saw him again.’
Lucas drew in a breath. ‘Scheisse.’
‘My father offered to get me another dog, but I had learned my lesson. I asked for a goldfish.’ Hannah smiled. ‘It’s hard to be broken-hearted over a goldfish.’
‘That is terrible.’
‘Yes.’ She turned away. ‘That’s my father.’
They encountered a problem with Hannah’s escape plan right away. The toilet seat was set into a moulded plastic unit. Although the seat was loose, they would need to remove the whole unit to get to the space beneath. The unit was fixed down by six screws. Two had already fallen out. Four remained.
‘Don’t suppose you happen to have a screwdriver on you?’ Hannah asked Lucas.
He shook his head. ‘Something I forgot to pack.’
She eased herself out of the cramped, stinking space, not really big enough for the two of them. She felt hot and sweaty. A wave of dizziness suddenly swamped her. She clutched at a seat, taking a deep breath, willing it to pass. Her breath caught in her throat. She coughed.
‘Bit of a cough there?’
She looked up. Cassie was curled in a lopsided seat halfway along the coach. She was reading a paperback procured from one of the dead students. Catch-22. Appropriate.
‘I’m fine,’ Hannah said. ‘Just dust.’
‘Right.’
Hannah didn’t like Cassie’s tone. She was fine. She had to be.
‘Not sitting with Daniel?’ she asked the other girl, unable to disguise the antagonism in her own voice.
Cassie yawned. ‘No offence, but the dying-sister vibe isn’t especially cheery. I wish she’d hurry it up.’
Hannah stared at her. ‘And you accused Lucas of being cold.’
‘Nope, that was Daniel. I said Lucas kicked someone when they were down. Which he did.’
She turned a page in the book. Hannah shook her head. Every time she thought she was getting a handle on Cassie, she surprised her again. And not in a good way.
‘Do you have anything we could use to undo some screws?’ she asked wearily.
‘Sure.’ Cassie said. ‘Let me just get my toolbox.’
Hannah gritted her teeth. She didn’t have time for this. ‘Well, thanks for your help.’
Cassie raised an eyebrow. ‘What d’you want? There’s only room for two of you in there. There’s nothing I can do for Daniel or his sister. Better to conserve energy. Especially seeing as our food and water are pretty limited.’
She was right, Hannah hated to admit. Her eyes roamed around the coach, hoping she might see something they could use.
‘A coin might work,’ Cassie added.
‘Do you have any coins on you?’
‘Nope.’
‘Great.’
Cassie gave her a salute and buried her nose back in the book. Hannah sighed and looked down the coach. She didn’t want to, but she needed to talk to Daniel.
He was seated next to his sister again. Peggy was still – just – alive. Her breathing was shallow and ragged and her skin pale and clammy. She must surely only have a short time left. But it was hard to tell. Initially, Hannah had thought she would die within the hour. But here she was. Death was a process. It took as long as it took. And it was never like it was in the movies. People always presumed it was either sudden or prolonged, with plenty of time to prepare. But the idea of ‘preparing’ for death was a fantasy.
Similarly, the most catastrophic injuries could take time to finally kill you. First, the organs would begin to fail. Slowly, one by one. Feeling in the limbs would fade. The brain would shut down higher functions, consciousness would become dulled and intermittent. The need for food or water would fade and many of the dying would lose the ability to swallow. Breathing would falter and, finally, without enough oxygen and with failing electrical impulses from the brain, the heart would stop beating. Depending on the injury, this could take minutes, hours or days. Death came when Death was ready. And no one, in Hannah’s experience, was ever prepared. She shivered and swallowed down another cough.
‘You don’t need to say it,’ Daniel said as she approached.
‘Say what?’
‘Lucas was right. It would be for the best. Peggy is going to die, and this is worse.’
Hannah sat down beside him. ‘Lucas isn’t right. Death is never for the best. But there comes a time when it’s the least painful option.’
Daniel nodded. ‘I was hoping that somehow we might get out of this, in time.’
Hannah frowned. In time for what? For Peggy to survive? That had always been unlikely.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. A futile platitude.
Daniel raised his eyes to hers. Such striking eyes, Hannah thought again.
‘I thought I heard a helicopter,’ he said.
‘I think the Department is looking for us.’
‘And you really think they’ll kill us if they find us?’
Shutdown.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s why we have to get out of here. We need to unscrew the toilet base. Do you have anything we could use to loosen the screws? A coin, perhaps?’
Daniel hesitated then fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a tarnished old penny. Hannah hadn’t seen one for years.
‘Lucky coin,’ he said. ‘My gran gave it to me. It’s not done much good so far.’ He held it out. ‘You might as well have it.
Hannah took the coin. ‘Thank you.’
‘You really think this will work?’ Daniel asked.
‘I don’t know. But we have to try. In here, we’re sitting ducks.’
‘And if we get out? What then?’
A good question. ‘We take everything useful from the luggage in the hold. Head into the woods and find shelter for tonight. By daylight we try to find our way to a village or town. Once people know about us, it becomes harder to get rid of us.’
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. ‘And how far to the nearest village or town?’
‘I don’t know,’ Hannah admitted. ‘Maybe fifty miles, maybe five hundred.’
‘And do you really think we’ll survive long enough to walk five hundred miles?’
‘I’d rather die trying than sit in here waiting for death.’
Daniel smiled. ‘You remind me of Peggy sometimes.’
‘I do?’
‘Yeah. She was tougher than she looked –’ He caught himself. That pesky past tense.
‘Daniel,’ Hannah said. ‘If we get out, you have to come with us.’
‘I can’t leave Peggy here.’
‘You can’t do anything else for her.’
‘It’s … it’s not just about Peggy.’
‘Then what?’
He didn’t reply.
‘Look,’ Hannah said. ‘I know it’s hard, but there will come a point when you have to make a choice.’
Daniel looked back at his sister and tenderly brushed a stray hair from her forehead. ‘I know.’ He turned back to Hannah. ‘Will you be here? When the time comes?’
‘If you want me to.’
‘Promise.’
She sighed. ‘I promise.’
‘Thank you.’
She stared at him. Was there something he wasn’t telling her?’
Save her.
Before she could ask, Lucas’s voice called from the toilet. ‘Have you found anything to undo these screws?’
She called back: ‘Yes. Just coming.’
Daniel stared up the coach at Lucas, his face hard.
‘I don’t trust him,’ he said.
‘You can’t really think he killed Ben?’
He looked at her. ‘Someone got up in the night. I saw them move.’
Hannah frowned. Could she have missed that? She supposed she may have dozed a little.
‘Lucas?’ she asked.
‘Too dark to tell.’
‘Are you sure?’
Daniel gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not sure about anything any more. Just … be careful.’
Undoing the screws was a slow, laborious process, made more unpleasant by the disinfectant and effluence seeping out of the upturned toilet. They lifted the seat out first and then took it in turns with the old penny. By the time the last screw popped free, their fingers were ragged and sore, and Hannah’s sweatshirt was soaked with sweat. Despite his torn fingers, Lucas looked cool and calm. He tugged at the plastic unit and ripped it out. Then, awkwardly, he manoeuvred it out of the narrow door.
Moment of truth, Hannah thought.
She crouched down. Beneath the unit was an area of grey plastic flooring and a small outlet hole for the toilet. Hannah pushed at the plastic with her hand. Then she stood and kicked at it with her heel. It felt flimsy, but she still wasn’t sure she could break it. Not without cutting her leg to shreds.
Lucas squeezed back in. ‘Well?’
‘Just this plastic flooring. I think the compartment for the holding tank will be on the other side. If we can get through this, theoretically, there should be an access space.’
‘Theoretically?’
‘It’s all I have.’ She looked back at the flooring. ‘I just don’t think I can break it.’
Lucas raised his leg and kicked hard at the plastic. It cracked a little. He kicked it again. This time his foot burst through up to the ankle. He staggered. Hannah winced. Then she realized it was Lucas’s false leg. He tugged it back out, the sharp metal plastic raking against the metal prosthetic.
He smiled at her. ‘It has its uses.’
They bent and pulled at the plastic, snapping pieces off, revealing a rectangular space underneath. Hannah peered into it. She could see the holding tank and, above that, a small hatch which must open at the side of the bus, to allow the tank to be removed when necessary. Yes. And for once, God or fate or just plain luck was on their side. There was space to get around the tank, and she could see a wedge of light where the hatch door had come open in the crash. Another hefty kick should see it give.
They had an exit. Tight. Awkward. But a way out.
Hannah felt light-headed with relief. She wiped at her forehead.
‘We’re going to make –’
A coughing fit overcame her. She covered her mouth with her arm. She couldn’t catch her breath. Lucas was looking at her. She read the question in his eyes. But before he could say anything there was a yell from the back of the coach.
‘HANNAH!’
She backed out of the toilet. Daniel was making his way towards her. He looked dishevelled and distraught.
‘It’s Peggy,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
Daniel turned and staggered back down the coach. Hannah followed. Before she even reached the back she could hear the moans of pain. She rounded the twisted seats and her eyes widened. Peggy lay against the window, body convulsing, legs splayed. The crotch of her bleached jeans was soaked in blood.
‘What the hell?’
She glanced at Daniel in confusion then dropped to her knees beside the girl. Where had all that blood come from? She placed a hand on Peggy’s stomach. Something moved beneath her fingers. No. Hannah gently pulled back the baggy sweatshirt. The girl’s belly was taut and distended, pulsing with contractions.
Jesus Christ.
Peggy was dying.
She was also pregnant … and in labour.
Hannah turned to Daniel angrily. ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was –’
The words withered on her lips.
Daniel stood behind her. In one hand, he held a small, sharp flick knife.
‘You promised,’ he said. ‘Save her.’
Meg
‘Why would someone hide a gun on the roof of the cable car?’ Max asked.
‘It must have been Karl,’ Sarah said. ‘He must have had two weapons.’
Meg considered this. ‘But if he had a gun, why bring a knife to the party?’
‘Maybe he thought a gunshot would wake us up.’
‘We were out for the count.’ Meg looked at the gun. ‘Plus, we were stripped and searched. All our personal possessions taken off us before we were put on board. So how did he get a knife and a gun on to the cable car?’
‘Well, obviously, he can’t have been drugged,’ Sarah said. ‘He must have been faking.’
‘He would still have gone through the same procedures …’ Meg trailed off.
They were missing something. She was missing something. She thought about the scrap of masking tape beneath the seat. The masking tape sticking the gun to the roof. There was a connection, but she just wasn’t seeing it.
Sean looked thoughtful. ‘If the dead guy was security, maybe the gun was his.’
‘So how did it end up stuck on the roof?’
He shrugged. ‘Maybe he wanted to hide it for some reason?’
Or, Meg thought, maybe the killer found it and hid it up there? She considered the scenario: the killer stabs Paul, discovers the gun and panics. What to do? He could ditch the gun, but it could be useful. There’s nowhere to hide it inside the cable car, so he secures it to the roof. Crazy, but also kind of ingenious. But then, why didn’t he put the knife up there, or ditch the knife? And where did the tape come from?
‘Is it loaded?’
Sarah’s voice interrupted Meg’s train of thought just as she was getting somewhere.
‘I asked if it’s loaded,’ Sarah repeated. ‘I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m not really very comfortable with you standing there holding a loaded gun.’
‘You think I might shoot you all?’ Meg said.
Sarah folded her arms. ‘I’d rather not find out.’
Meg shook her head. ‘Fine.’ She clicked open the chamber. Six bullets inside. The gun was fully loaded, but it hadn’t been used.
She emptied the bullets into her hand and held them out. ‘Who wants them? A gun is no good without bullets.’
Sean stepped forward. ‘I’ll take them.’
She handed them over. He dropped the bullets into his pocket.
‘Everyone happy with that?’ Meg asked.
‘Why do you get to keep the gun?’ Sarah said.
Meg rolled her eyes. ‘You want it? Here?’ She proffered the gun, holding it by the barrel. Sarah looked at it and then shook her head.
‘Actually, no. You keep it.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’
Meg started to slip the gun into her pocket.
‘Actually –’ This from Max. He had sat down again, and his voice was a little croaky. ‘Why does anyone need to keep it? Why don’t we just get rid of it, like we did with the knife?’
It was a fair point. If they made it to the Retreat with a gun, questions would be asked.
‘I think we should keep the gun,’ Sean said. ‘Just in case.’
‘Just in case?’ Sarah looked at him. ‘In case of what?’
