Blood Ransom (16 page)

Killing them was wrong.

John led the three of us onto the beach. By the time we reached the shelter of the cave my hair was drenched, though Grace was still dry inside her blanket, under my jacket. John carried Milo
over the patch of sand between the path and the cave, then went back for his wheelchair.

I thought about running, but only for a second. Better to wait until John had gone. Milo wouldn’t be able to follow me, after all. Except . . . where would I go? RAGE weren’t exactly
going to welcome me with open arms.

Still, they must have come here in a boat. It was probably moored somewhere near the jetty. If I could just get away from both sides and make it there, I’d surely find a phone or a radio I
could use to call home . . . or the police.

I hugged Grace to my chest as John helped Milo into his chair. She was stirring, her little head twisting against my top, her arms and legs wriggling inside the blanket.

‘We’ll be okay, Grace,’ I whispered. Again I felt that fierce tug of love. I thought about what Milo had said . . .
Grace is in Elijah’s power. He can do what tests he
likes on her. No one even knows she exists.

‘
I
know,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll protect you.’

Grace made that pitiful mewing sound I’d heard before. I headed for the back of the cave and sat down next to a pile of stones. She was probably hungry. I fished out the bottle of formula
Milo had prepared.

John was still at the entrance to the cave, giving Milo some last-minute instructions from Elijah.

‘Whatever happens, stay here until I come back for you. If I don’t appear in thirty minutes, then head for the area just east of Calla Hill. That’s where the helicopter’s
landing, okay?’

John left. As Milo wheeled his way towards me, I put the bottle to Grace’s lips, but she turned her head away and carried on wailing.

I looked up. Milo was smiling at me. ‘I wish I’d met you a different way, Rachel,’ he said, hesitantly.

For God’s sake.

‘She won’t feed,’ I said. I had enough problems to deal with without Milo getting all sentimental on me.

Milo wheeled himself nearer. Grace’s cries got louder. I gave up trying to make her drink from the little bottle of milk and tried rocking her in my arms.

‘Sssh,’ I said, soothingly.

Grace just wailed even louder.

‘If RAGE hears her, they’ll find us,’ I said.

Milo nodded. ‘We could hide behind that,’ he said, pointing at where a piece of rock jutted out at the very rear of the cave. ‘There’s an opening behind it, into a
tunnel. We could go a couple of metres inside – that might muffle the noise.’

I stood up, my heart racing.

‘Where does the tunnel lead?’ I said.

‘Nowhere,’ Milo said. ‘I mean, it goes along under the rocks, down to the beach near the jetty, but there’s no proper exit, just pipes, and it floods at high
tide.’

‘Is it high tide now?’

‘I don’t know,’ Milo said nervously. ‘I just know Elijah said the tunnel was dangerous.’

I snorted. ‘Of course he said that.’ I walked over to the rock that jutted out. From where I’d been sitting, it had looked just like part of the cave formation, but as I got
closer I could see it concealed a low, squarish opening. I peered inside. There wouldn’t be room to stand up properly, but the tunnel inside was definitely passable. Maybe the pipes it led to
would be big enough for me to crawl through. If I came out on the beach near the jetty, I’d be in a perfect position to make it to the RAGE boat.

‘Rachel, we can’t go more than a few metres down there. Elijah wasn’t lying about that. It’s
dangerous.
’

‘I get it,’ I said impatiently. Grace was almost screaming now – a high- pitched squeal. ‘We’re just going to take Grace along the tunnel for a little way while
she’s crying,’ I lied. ‘You’re the one who suggested it. Otherwise if anyone from RAGE comes they’ll hear her.’

‘Okay.’ Milo looked relieved.

I turned and led the way into the tunnel. I had to walk hunched over. Even Milo, sitting in his wheelchair, had to dip his head slightly. The wheels rattled over the uneven ground. Milo’s
breath came out in uneven gasps. He was clearly having to work hard to manoeuvre the chair. Worried about stumbling myself, I kept a tight hold of Grace as I ventured along in the darkness. Her
squeals were deafening now, echoing off the tunnel walls.

After a few metres, Milo let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Hang on, let me get my flashlight . . . er, torch,’ he said.

I stopped.

A second later a beam of light lit up the tunnel. I peered into the distance. The passageway extended as far as I could see.

This was it. My chance to escape.

Holding Grace with one arm, I turned and reached for Milo’s torch.

‘You need both hands for the wheelchair,’ I said.

I tucked the torch under my arm and took a few more steps. It was easier now I could see the ground in front of me. The tunnel was colder than the cave and it smellled of salt and damp. I sped
up slightly.

‘Wait, Rachel,’ Milo said. ‘We’ve gone far enough.’

‘Just a little bit further,’ I insisted.

I walked on, my heart hammering. The salty smell
had
to mean that we were close to the sea.

Grace’s wail grew more intense. I tucked the blanket around her again. ‘Sssh, baby,’ I murmured. ‘Sssh, Grace, you’re okay now.’

‘Rachel, please stop.’ Milo was several metres behind me now. He sounded breathless from the effort of moving his wheelchair and there was a note of panic in his voice.

Ignoring him, I kept walking. In a minute, I’d make a run for it. I had both the torch and Grace. It would take Milo a while to turn his wheelchair in the darkness and make his way back to
the cave. I didn’t want to be mean to him, but there was no other option.

We went on, Grace’s cries echoing around us. The air grew gradually colder and stiller. I felt like I’d been walking for ages. Surely we were at least half-way to the jetty now?

‘That’s
enough
,’ Milo said. ‘Rachel,
please
, no one will be able to hear Grace all the way in here.’

The tone of his voice was more plea than order.

It was time.

‘Bye, Milo,’ I whispered.

I put the torch in my mouth, then, keeping its beam focused on the bumpy tunnel floor, I clutched Grace to my chest and raced off.

50

Fumbling, and cursing my clumsy fingers, I undid the fourth screw at last. I forced the bed frame away from the post, making just enough space to slide my chain over.

I raced to the door, the chain trailing behind me. The cabin door was locked, but it looked pretty flimsy. I was sure I could break it down. Except, if I did, then anyone left on the boat would
surely come running. I hesitated, but only for a second. I didn’t have a choice. I had to take the risk.

I set myself sideways on to the door, took a few steps back, braced myself, then hurled myself shoulder first at the door. It broke with a snap. I stumbled out into the corridor and listened for
the sound of footsteps.

Nothing. I crept down the corridor to the engine room where Lewis and I had been held earlier.

I peered round the door. Lewis was lying, slumped, on the floor. His wrists and ankles were bound so tightly with rope, they were blue. I raced over and knelt beside him.
‘Lewis?’

He groaned.

‘Are you okay?’

He groaned again.

I ran out of the engine room and tore towards the stairs at the end. Up to the main cabin. Still no sign of anyone. RAGE must be using every single person on board for the attack.

I looked round, desperate to find something to release Lewis with. Across the room a cupboard door was ajar, an open padlock hanging from one handle. I yanked it open. This had clearly been some
kind of weapons stash, but all that was left now was a broken firing pin from a gun and three rounds of bullets.

Damn.
I reached into the far, dark corner of each shelf. As I reached the bottom shelf, my hand closed on a blade. Not sharp – presumably that was why it had been left behind
– but a knife nonetheless. I pulled it out and ran back to Lewis.

He was still groaning, curled up on the floor. I dropped to my knees and set to work carving the rope that bound his wrists.

Precious minutes ticked by. Lewis was stifling his moans now, but I could see he was still in pain.

He opened his eyes as I worked away at the rope. The knife was so blunt, it was taking ages.

Another explosion.

I bit my lip. How much longer was RAGE’s attack on the island going to go on? Where was Rachel? Was she okay?

At last the knife sliced through the final bit of rope round his wrists. That just left his ankles. Lewis sat up, wincing.

‘I think they cracked my ribs,’ he muttered, reaching for the knife.

I handed it over and stood up. ‘I’m going to find her,’ I said.

‘No. I’m coming too.’ Lewis clutched at the back of his head and let out another groan of pain.

‘You’re hurt and your legs are still tied up,’ I said.

‘I have to.’ Lewis positioned the knife and started working on the rope that bound his ankles.

‘Why? So you can get even with Elijah?’ I said. ‘This mission is about rescuing Rachel. You need to stay on board and work out how to start this boat up for when I get back
with her.’

‘You don’t freakin’ know where she is,’ Lewis snarled.

‘Neither do you,’ I said, turning away. ‘Stay here.’ I ran out of the engine room and up the stairs, through the main cabin and out on deck. It was still dark, though the
moonlight cast a veiled glow over the shoreline, sparkling on the tips of the waves. I could just make out a plume of smoke rising from the part of the island which contained Elijah’s
lab.

I swallowed down the panicky lump that lodged in my throat. Rachel said she had never been inside the lab and Elijah was hardly likely to have taken her there tonight.

There was no sign of him and his men – or of the RAGE crew. I raced across the jetty and onto the beach. There were two paths. One, to the left, I knew led to the barn with the lab. Surely
the other – much stonier and to the right – must lead to other buildings? I still couldn’t see anyone, though I could hear distant shouting.

Using the cover of the trees, and keeping the stony path on one side of me, and the coastline on the other, I made my way carefully round the island.

51

I ran hard, Grace huddled against my chest, the torch in my mouth. Milo’s voice echoed through the tunnel behind us.

‘Come back!’ he yelled. ‘You can’t get out that way.
Please.
Or I’ll shoot!’

I ran on, my heart thumping. I was certain Milo wouldn’t use his gun – that’s if he even had one.

The rocky floor was jagged and increasingly uneven. I had to slow down for fear of stumbling. It was colder and damper now. The chill was seeping into my bones. I hugged Grace closer and her
cries at last subsided.

I slowed to a jog. The ground was damp now and really slippery, but I couldn’t stop. Goodness knows what was going on outside on the island, but this tunnel was my best chance . . . my
only chance . . . of reaching the jetty.

Milo was still shouting. I could hear the wheels of his chair bumping over the uneven ground. He was moving more slowly than me, which meant maybe I could slow down myself . . . the rock surface
was really treacherous now. Cold water lapped at my feet – and the torchlight showed that it continued as far as I could see.

Was this the flooding Milo had talked about? At least it wasn’t deep. I waded on, more cautiously. The uneven surface of the ground was concealed completely. The dark water rose up round
my ankles. It was freezing.

‘RACHEL!’ Milo was still behind me. His voice ricochet-ted off the rock walls, a booming echo. He didn’t sound far away.

I sped up again, splashing as I pounded along the tunnel. Grace wriggled against me as I slid around. She made that mewing sound I’d heard her make earlier.

Sssh.
I looked down at her, distracted.

Whoosh.
I took another step but my feet met no resistance. Just water . . . more water. My legs burning with the shock of the cold, I lost balance. Screamed. In a single movement I
dropped the torch, instinctively raised Grace above my head and sank like a stone into the seawater.

52

I froze, still under cover of the trees.

The muffled scream echoed in my ears.

It was Rachel. I was sure of it. But
where
?

The sound seemed to have come from beyond the trees . . . somewhere near the beach. I crept through the patch of woodland, towards the sea. My steps, crunching on grass and twigs, sounded loud
to my ears, but no one was around to hear. There’d been no more explosions since I’d left the boat, though I’d just heard a round of gunfire coming from the other side of the
island.

I reached the edge of the trees, where the stony beach began to slope down to the shore, and stood still, listening hard. The wood and the rest of the island was behind me; the sea in front.

Another round of distant gunfire, then silence. All I could hear was the wind in the trees and the waves lapping at the shore.

Had I imagined that scream?

‘Help! Help!’ The voice came again. It was
definitely
Rachel. And was that an
animal
crying?

It didn’t make sense.

I waited for what felt like ages, though it can’t have been more than half a minute. Then another yell sounded right beneath me.

Rachel was underground.

I stepped back, wishing I had more than the moonlight to see with. I stood, waiting for more sounds. But there was only silence.

53

My head broke through the water. I gasped for breath, shocked to the core by the fall and the cold of the water.

I forced my legs to tread water, though they were already numb with cold. I held Grace above my head. She was screaming like she was being murdered.