Blood and Ashes (13 page)

‘We’ll have to chance one of the logging camps.’

‘They’re closed,’ Millie reminded me.

‘There could still be a telephone hooked up, or a radio or
something
.’ In truth I wasn’t thinking about phones; I was looking for somewhere that I could mount a defence. Maybe a logging camp would offer hiding places for the children while I could take the fight back to the pack hunting us. I decided that giving the family hope of rescue would stop them from further panic. I met Don’s eye. The old man knew what I was thinking. He busied himself with the assault rifle, getting ready to help if a last stand was unavoidable.

‘Long time since you’ve held one of those, I bet,’ I said.

‘I’d be happier if I never had to handle one ever again. But now that things are looking inevitable . . . well, I’ll do the best I can.’

I touched the old man on the forearm. ‘I know you will.’

There’d been bad blood between the two of us, but just like me, Don had no real control over the decisions of our superiors. Don’s intelligence had caused the deaths of innocents, but he couldn’t be held responsible for the bullets spewed from ill-guided weapons. I saw that now and knew that my enmity shouldn’t be directed at him, but at our controllers at Arrowsake. It was time to put our differences aside.

Don nodded solemnly at my words. He got their meaning. He opened his mouth to speak, to maybe explain how things had gone so wrong.

‘Just leave it be, Don. It’s enough that it’s behind us now, OK?’ What I really wanted to understand was who our pursuers were, and why they were so determined to kill Don’s entire family. But now wasn’t the time for that either.

Up ahead, the forest had been felled back all the way up the slopes, the hills bare of cover. Rain sheeted across the valley like billowing smoke. The road looked like it had been widened here, possibly to accommodate large machinery, and there was a broad area of hard-packed dirt on one side. A portable cabin once used as a control hub for the worksite had been abandoned. It listed severely to one side where the elements had done their best to wipe it from the landscape, and weeds and brush had sprung up around its base. It was poor cover, and the chances of a working phone or radio inside were nil.

Behind us the vehicles were revving into action, seeing the opening as their best chance for corralling the minivan between them. They were more powerful vehicles than ours and we’d no hope of outrunning them now. From the Ford the spiky-haired woman leaned out the window so that she could get a clear shot. The Ford veered right, swinging on to the hard-pack so that she could fire at Don.

‘Everyone get down,’ I said stiffly.

Don didn’t have much hope for concealment; he was way too bulky to scrunch down in the front seat. Instead, he swung the assault rifle out of the window. It was an awkward angle, and he had to hold the gun wedged under his opposite armpit. He fired off a short burst, but he had more chance of hitting the moon than he did the Ford.

From the back seat the children’s cries were plaintive and I felt a pang in my heart.

This is not right, I thought, it’s just not right.

Let these bastards come after me and Don, fair enough. I could accept that. But to endanger the children was supremely wrong. It was both cruel and cowardly.

Rage flooded through me like an icy tide.

‘Millie,’ I said. ‘Get the children to cover their ears and close their eyes. Things are about to get scary.’

No sooner had I said it than I slammed on the brakes.

Taken by surprise, the driver of the Ford was slow to react and the car flew past, the woman missing the opportunity to shoot Don. Don twisted the gun, propping it against the door frame and rattled off another short burst. Silver-edged craters appeared in the metal body of the Ford and the car skidded away as the driver took evasive action.

The cabin was now dead in line with the Ford, and I watched as the driver tore at the steering. The Ford clipped the back corner of the cabin, blasting through rotting boards and finishing the job started by the elements. The cabin twisted with the impact and came apart. Wood and dust flew everywhere. The Ford spun out, and it hadn’t survived the impact undamaged. Bits of plastic and metal joined the flying detritus. Steam erupted from the engine and blocked any view of its occupants.

Then we were past the wreck, and I floored the throttle as the other vehicles roared after us.

‘How far is it to the logging camp?’ I called back to Millie.

‘Not far now, take the next road to the left.’ Millie’s voice was as high-pitched as the children’s screams.

Next road? Where? Where?

I saw it a hundred yards ahead: a narrow track that was little more than a beaten path winding up the hillside.

You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. We’d need a 4×4 to negotiate that trail.

But there was nothing else for it.

Bullets
spanged
off the minivan.

A black SUV roared up on our right, trying to cut us off, and I saw the face of the tattooed man snarling at us as he raised a shotgun. Don struggled to bring the rifle round on him, but he had it wedged, the carrying strap impeding him.

The shotgun flared, the load holing the front fender.

Thankfully he hadn’t fired at Don, but at the tyre in an attempt at stopping the van.

‘Get back.’ I leaned past the old man, my elbow against Don’s chest. I wasn’t fucking around with trying to disable their vehicle. I aimed the SIG directly at the tattooed man’s face.

Fired.

But already the man was reacting, throwing himself backwards as far as his seat would allow.

My bullet missed him, but it didn’t matter. It hit an even more viable target.

The driver of the SUV couldn’t do his job with most of his forehead missing.

Easing down on the brakes, I watched as the SUV streaked across in front of us at too sharp an angle, and I turned into the trail even as the SUV flipped and rolled in a shower of dirt and mud and shattered metal.

The trail was slick and muddy, but the minivan was sturdier than I’d first assumed. It hauled itself up the hillside, the engine moaning but not ready to give up.

Looking down the hill, I saw the last two pursuing vehicles veer off to check on their fallen comrades. Three men clambered out, rushing to the SUV, dancing around futilely as they searched for their leader among the steaming wreckage.

I’d bought us some breathing space, but they’d be coming again. At least there’d be fewer of them to contend with next time.

Chapter 17

‘Well . . . we made it.’

‘Just.’ Don added, looking at the ramshackle collection of buildings, ‘But was it worth it?’

My nod was more confident than any of us felt. ‘We’ve a better chance here than we do on the open road.’

‘We didn’t do too badly. We stopped two of them.’

‘We were incredibly lucky, that’s all,’ I said.

‘Is your glass always half-empty?’

‘My glass got shattered a long time ago.’

It was a hell of a climb up the slope but we had made it without bursting the suspension on the people carrier. Once we were off the barren hillside, the forest encroached again, but at least it offered some respite from the driving rain. I had flicked on the headlights to negotiate the gloom, and then put my foot down. The earlier opinion was still strong in my mind: the bad guys would be coming again. We had to find shelter for Millie and the children, then set Don up to cover me while I took the fight to our enemies. We wouldn’t be able to do that while dawdling on the mountain trails. We had found the abandoned logging camp ten minutes later.

Parking the van near to a decrepit cabin, I said, ‘Millie, I want you to go and check inside. See if there’s a telephone or radio. Then come and join us.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘In there.’ My nod indicated a series of huts and industrial sheds beyond a chain-link fence. The fence had drooped in places and was no real security.

‘Why not just check those huts?’ Millie asked.

‘This one is outside the compound. I’m guessing it was once a security checkpoint. If there’s a comms area, that’s the logical place to find it.’

‘I’ll go,’ Don said, shifting to open his door.

‘No.’ I gripped his wrist. ‘I need you to look after the children.’

‘I can look after the children,’ Millie said.

‘Don can handle an assault rifle – can you?’

Millie just stared for a long three seconds. Then she opened the door and slid out. Hunkered against the rain, she headed for the abandoned cabin. I drove away and through the open gate, all the while watching Millie in the mirror.

‘What was that all about?’ Don asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s pretty obvious that you wanted Millie out of the way. What’s on your mind, Hunter?’

I chewed my bottom lip for the briefest of time. ‘Not in front of the children, Don.’

There were cabins on both sides of the trail, some faring better than others in the fight against the elements. None of them had successfully held back the forest from reclaiming its territory. Undergrowth grew all the way to the walls and sometimes even inside the buildings. Further back were the large sheds, the abandoned homes of saws and winches and all the equipment necessary for a lumber operation. Ignoring the structures, I drove to the furthest corner of the sprawling encampment. There I reversed the van under a lean-to. It was concealed from anyone coming along the trail until they were adjacent with it, and I elected to leave it nose out in case we had to trust to speed and manoeuvrability to get us out of a fix a second time.

‘Grab the gun for me, will you.’ I climbed out the van. ‘And bring the children.’

‘What about Fluffy?’

Beth was cradling the tom in her arms. The tatty old cat returned my stare as though defying me to leave it behind. Maybe if I didn’t give the correct answer to the little girl, it would show me how it had earned its scars. Fluffy? Jesus, if there was ever a misnomer that was it!

The tom was a good distraction for the children, but if the time came when it became an encumbrance then I’d have to leave it behind. Except my ethos was that you never left a friend behind.

‘OK, you can bring the cat. Just make sure he stays quiet.’

‘He’s always quiet,’ Ryan said.

The little boy was right. I’d never heard the cat as much as miaow in the time it had been in the van with us. ‘Do you think that the two of you can be as quiet as Fluffy?’

Beth and Ryan smiled up at me, nodding and blinking down on tears. It made my heart ache and I turned away quickly.

Don slung me a rifle.

I turned to make a reconnaissance of the area, but Don grabbed my wrist this time.

‘What did you mean? Not in front of the children?’

‘Not now, Don. We’ll talk about this once we’ve secured the place.’

Don turned and searched for Millie. When he turned back, his face was like stone. ‘You never had children, did you, Hunter?’

That was one of the reasons why Diane and I had split. There was nothing left to bind us together. As much as we’d loved each other, it hadn’t been enough to span the gulf that grew between us after I left my unit. I’d tried to turn my back on the past, but inexorably I’d been pulled back into a world of violence where Diane didn’t want to follow. Hector and Paris, our beloved German Shepherds, had been as close to children as we’d had. Diane and her new husband, Simon, kept them. I missed my dogs, and if the truth be known, I missed the children we’d never had.

‘I’ll do
anything
to protect my family,’ Don went on. ‘I’ll take down
any
man who tries to harm them.’

We locked gazes for a long breath. Finally I nodded curtly. Point taken. ‘Take the little ones inside and try to get them settled. I’m going to need you out here.’ I paused again, thinking hard. ‘Just forget what I said, OK?’

‘Might not be that easy.’

Shit, and after we’d just buried the hatchet.

‘Get the kids settled. Make sure that no one can see them, then get back out here.’ I lowered my voice conspiratorially. ‘
Then
we can talk about how we intend killing these bastards who want to murder your family.’ I walked away before the old man could argue.

I headed down the centre of the road, holding the assault rifle across my body. If the bad guys were here already, better that they zeroed in on me rather than the others. As I walked, I thought about the short discourse I’d just had with Don Griffiths. To say that Don had overreacted was the least of it. I’d only intended planning our strategy for taking out our pursuers without the kids overhearing. Christ, they were traumatised enough without listening to their grandfather plotting the deaths of others.

Don had thrown a curve ball that I hadn’t been ready for. What the hell had he thought I’d meant? More questions to add to those I already wanted answering. I needed to sit down for a real heart-to-heart with Don. But now wasn’t the time. Our window of opportunity was very limited and none of it must be wasted. It was enough that I knew the men after us were determined, and reckless enough, to try anything. For now, I didn’t have to worry about the
why
, only about the
how
I was going to stop them.