Catherine Jinks TheRoad (96 page)

Alec knew. It was a warning. Like the road kill, like the swarm of flies, this noise was a signal. He knew it in his gut, the gut that had never failed him, no matter how much he’d tried to ignore it.

And his gut was telling him to move.

‘Get out!’ he barked, slapping the back of Noel’s seat. Noel’s response was so fast that he must have been acting on the same impulse; the old Ford sputtered to life instantly, its engine roaring.

Then three things happened, in the blink of an eye.

There was a flash – a great flash – silent and all-encompassing. It had the intensity, the brilliance, the blue-white clarity of sheet lightning, except that there was no thunder or rain to accompany it.

The image that it left seared on Alec’s retina was that of a man’s head and shoulders, just in front to his right, below Noel’s window: a craggy profile, a bent arm, an upthrust rifle, its barrel aimed at Noel’s head. Alec was still processing this picture as his own hand shot out. He was still thinking: That bastard must have crawled up to us on his belly, like a snake, as he drove his door open, towards the now unseen figure, a split second before the gun went off.

He felt the impact of the man’s body along his arm, then saw the quick, hot blaze and heard the retort. There was a shriek, and a sparkling shower of glass. It rained down on the shooter, who was struggling to regain his balance; Alec could see this because his eyes had recovered from the blinding effect of the lightning flash. He could just distinguish the shooter’s dense silhouette from the gloom beyond. He spied the swaying gun barrel.

Leaping from the car, he swung his hatchet.

The blade struck home. A terrible howl assaulted his ears, as if the parted flesh itself had cried out. Jarring against bone, the weapon was knocked aside with the movement of a whirling back and shoulder. Alec went for the gun. He could feel himself toppling, thrust off his feet by the force of his opponent’s lunge, and launched himself at the rifle. He grabbed it. He pulled it. Something smashed into his chin but he didn’t let go. He hit the ground, rolling.

There was a deafening explosion.

For an instant, time seemed to stand still. The blast had blown every thought clear out of Alec’s brain; it took a moment for him to gather them up again. His opponent too had frozen in shock.

The gun. It had fired.