The Left Series (Book 5): Left On The Run (47 page)

“Maybe later,” Smith snorted. “Right now, I need a damn drink.”

I smiled and watched Smith head off through a hatch door into the interior of the ship. I also left Duffy and McDonnell to their task and walked towards the ship’s stern. I slumped against the wall and slid to a sitting position, watching Belfast Harbor disappear into the blackness behind us. My eyes felt heavy and I let them slowly close.

The coolness of the breeze awoke me a short time later. I groaned in pain as I hauled myself to my feet and took a slow walk around the upper deck.

Blackened, bloody and aching, I shuffled onto the forecastle, at the front of the ship. The breeze blew into my face and I saw the first signs of daylight glowing across the distant horizon. My hands trembled as I reached for my pack of smokes.

The adrenalin rush from the night’s events still pulsed through my body but my heart rate at last, began to slow. One bent and twisted cigarette remained in the pack. I took it out and stuffed it in my mouth. After tossing the empty pack into the sea, I had trouble holding the lighter still.

I gazed across the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean with an increasing sense of calm. I thought about all our traveling companions who had fallen along the way and felt regretful and sad they weren’t here with us. I breathed out smoke and let the morning sunlight wash over my face. We were heading into a new territory, leaving the shattered shell of the UK behind.

It was an exciting time. Maybe on this occasion, wherever we ended up, we’d find some peace and tranquility and be able to live out the rest of our lives without terror and dread on a daily basis. Perhaps, with a slice of good fortune and a shit load of luck, we could finally put an end to our life on the run. 

THE END
 
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