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Authors: Corinna Turner

BOOK: The Three Most Wanted
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“Margo,” he said calmly, still holding out his hand for the gun. “These are EB-14 rifles. Complete with embedded  trackers. They were developed specifically to reduce theft by the Resistance. If we keep them, the EuroGov will know exactly where we are. And disabling the trackers will take hours. We haven’t time.”

“….Oh.” I let him take the rifle from my unresisting hand and hurl it into space.

Then we ran. We found a way up the slope, but it was rough going. Even after our thirty-six hours of sleep and meals, we were still gaunt and low on energy. But stumbling and tripping, we ran, each of us holding Jon by one hand. Once out of sight of the van, we ran west.

“They’ll expect us to go southeast,” panted Bane, as we went. “Or possibly south or east if we’re trying to confuse them. But they’ll assume we won’t entirely stop heading for the Alps. I hope. So we’ll go west until we lose them, and only then cut down for the Alps again… By the way… François turned us in, right, the jerk?”

“Yes. But Bane… he tried to swap us for his boys,” I puffed.

“Huh?” Bane’s head swiveled to look at me and he stumbled over a fallen branch.

“They weren’t dismantled yet, he was trying to save them.”


Tried
to swap us? Looked like he succeeded!”

“You do have a high opinion of the EuroGov. They killed his boys and brought him their brains’ ashes. Evil bastards. Then shot him, left Hugo in the cottage, and burnt it down.”

Bane was silent for several paces. “Oh. Okay, it was stupid, and he shouldn’t have done it, but… well, I’ll take the jerk back, at least.”

The afternoon wore on. We gasped for breath, our run turning to a stumble. All these mountains and hills to slog up… we just couldn’t
run
up them and it took so long… We hadn’t gone very far, not as the crow flies. Our ears strained endlessly for the sound of rotor blades. A helicopter would be the end…

Perhaps the helicopters were searching to the southeast, as Bane predicted? On we went. We didn’t talk much. We’d no breath to spare, and anyway, we all knew how grave our situation was. No venison, no thermals, no sleeping bags, no stove, no waterproofs, no water bottles.

We’d just the clothes we’d put on for a day relaxing in a warm cottage, and the contents of our trouser pockets: Bane’s omniphone and knife, the penknives we’d been using to mark trees whenever we left our camp, two flashlights, and one remaining lighter. And we’d thought ourselves underequipped before.

 

From the patch of open ground we were crossing, the view was breathtaking in the twilight—a freestanding peak towering inside the horseshoe ridge on which we walked. Occasional lights down in the curving valley showed a main road, a rare—and unwelcome—glimpse of civilization.

We’d dropped down from the ridge line when the trees thinned, to avoid being silhouetted, and now hurried over the rocky ground as fast as we could. The forest picked up again only meters ahead; even the reForestation machines had been unable to tackle this rocky stretch trailing down the mountainside...

A strange
smack...

...a gasp from Jon.

I looked round just in time to see him fall, clutching his thigh, crimson blood gleaming wetly around his hand in the twilight…

 

 

 

***+***

 

 

 

17

HIGH VOLTAGE

 


Jon
…”

Bane practically picked me up and hurled me forwards into the shelter of the forest—I managed to roll as I hit the ground and sat up unharmed. Bane was already pulling Jon’s arm over his shoulder. I lurched forward—froze… Run out there and Bane would probably stop to shove me back… “Bane!”

What’d happened? Had Jon been
shot?
There probably were other explanations, but I couldn’t think of any right now…

Crack, shriiing...

Okay, someone
was
shooting at us. Bane went into overdrive and drag-carried Jon into the trees in a frantic burst of energy.

“Where the hell are they?” I asked.

Bane glanced out through the trees and pointed at the big mountain. “There. They’ve got a bloody sniper stuck up there with a high-powered rifle—good position, must be able to cover an enormous amount of ground. We’re lucky it’s so dark.”

Crouching beside Jon, he didn’t elaborate further. Didn’t need to, I could figure it out. Must’ve taken the sniper most of the time we were in the open to identify us and by then it’d been too dark for good shooting. Or knowing the EuroGov, perhaps he’d deliberately shot to wound.

I crouched on Jon’s other side, taking his hand as Bane cut a square from his bloody trousers to get a look at the wound.

“S’okay, Jon.” I stroked his hair back from his face—it was growing out again. “S’okay, Bane’s going to fix up your leg.” He was cold and clammy and shaking—going into medical shock. Needed warmth and a hot sugary drink. Damnit! We had
nothing
.

Bane stripped off his t-shirt in one quick movement, rolled it into a strip and bound it tightly around Jon’s leg. “I think it’s a flesh wound. Think the bullet’s still in there. But I’m not a doctor and we have to go,
now
.”

Troop trucks would be racing up the valley road, stopping to disgorge their loads onto the mountainside… Damn, damn, damn. What’s that saying about it can always get worse? Admittedly we were still better off than when we’d been trapped in a secure transport van on our way to a Facility... but not much better…

“What?” mumbled Jon, as though only just realizing Bane had spoken.

“I said it’s not serious,” lied Bane, “and we’ve got to move.”

“Move?”

If only we had a blanket to ward off shock… I unbuttoned the shirt Bane had given me and slipped it off; Bane helped me sit Jon up and ease him into it. Buttoned up, it was better than nothing. It was absolutely all we could do for him, anyway. Night was only just falling and I could feel the chill. The blouse I still wore had been thick enough for daytime, but now… Bane was worse off, though: there were goose-pimples on his bony chest—the t-shirt bandage was already red with blood.

“Come on,” said Bane ruthlessly, but he waited until I’d got Jon’s arm over my shoulder before beginning to lift him to his feet.

Jon moaned and went so white it looked like he’d pass out. “Wait...” He stood for a moment, head down, swallowing hard. “Okay...”

We started forward into the darkening forest, no doubt leaving a trail of blood a man could follow, let alone a dog. But any watercourse would be in the bottom of the valley; no question of going down there.

No running, now. Jon’s emaciated condition was no benefit; we were almost as weak as he was. I was actually glad we didn’t have the packs to worry about any more.  Jon was more important than sleeping bags and a stove.

Slowly, painfully slowly, we reached the end of the horseshoe ridge and descended. A pitch black night, no moon, clouded sky—a cracking summer storm gathering above us?
Good
. Rain would wash away our scent, it couldn’t come too soon.

Bane led us slightly north; towards an area of wilderness where troop trucks couldn’t follow and safe streams might be found. All was silent; no sound of pursuit reached our straining ears. How long would it take them to bring dogs?

The lights of the distant road receded and were gone. Finally the curve of a stream crossed our path. We splashed down the bank into it as though to follow the left hand curve, then turned immediately and headed right instead. Northwest. All this effort to get
further
from our goal. It all seemed to be becoming more and more pointless.
Angel Margaret, stick close, we’re in a fix

We stayed in the stream for less than a kilometer before climbing out again. The cold water was doing nothing to help Jon’s condition. Oven-ready chickens had warmer skin. Blundering into tree after tree, scratched and poked by every branch in the forest, we soon fell into another stream. Followed that for a kilometer and left it, and so it went on.

My legs were like lead. Jon could no longer put any weight on his bad leg. He hopped lurchingly along, bad leg dragging—he wouldn’t keep that up for long. I didn’t feel hungry, the only silver lining of extreme exhaustion, apparently. ‘Cause there wasn’t going to be anything to eat any time soon. Even if we found nettles, they had to be carefully folded to be eaten raw. No time for that.

Jon’s good leg buckled, throwing all his weight on us, and off balance, the three of us crashed to the ground. A long, pained gasp from Jon...

“Sorry,” panted Bane—landed on Jon’s bad leg? “Jon?”

No reply. He’d passed out.

“Oh, damn.”

I just sat there, literally shaking with exhaustion.

At last I said, “Perhaps we should stop for a bit.”

“No.” Bane’s voice was a weary rasp. “They can’t be far behind us. We
cannot
stop. Soon as Jon comes round, we’re moving.”

I flopped down on the ground—but Bane had Jon awake again before I’d even got unconscious myself. Staggering upright, we hauled him to his feet by sheer brute force. He managed a few hops and his good leg crumpled. We managed not to fall this time, putting our heads down and  plowing on, carry-dragging him between us.

Jon told you to leave him behind at the beginning,
an evil little voice said in my mind.
He was right. You should have left him. Now you and Bane are going to die too, because you were so sure you could make it with Jon along. Stupid, Margo.

But we
weren’t
sure we could make it with Jon,
I told that little voice.
We just knew we couldn’t leave him behind to be dismantled…

Bane
thought you could make it,
whispered that little voice.
Or he’d have left him.
Bane
got it wrong…

Oh shut up
, I retorted.

We didn’t speak. Soon we scarcely thought. We just walked. And walked. And walked.

Step, step, step, heave Jon’s arm further over my shoulders, step, step, step...

The wind was getting up; its icy slap against my face drew my attention from the mindlessness. But Bane’s arm, lying under mine across Jon’s back, was oddly warm. His left arm. Oh no. He’d had no antibiotics at all, today. I didn’t bother trying to look at him. Too dark. Nothing to be done.

Step. Step. Step. Jon slipping… heave. Step. Step. Step.

The rising wind made it hard to hear, but still no sounds came from behind us. Surely we hadn’t stayed in any of the streams long enough to throw them off the scent?

Finally a trip from Bane or myself—two seconds later when we all hit the ground I’d already forgotten which—had us lying flat out, gasping. When Bane didn’t drive us straight back to our feet, I shifted to feel his forehead and arm. That insidious rising heat was definitely back.

“Any suggestions, Doctor Margo?” His voice would’ve been dry if he hadn’t been panting so hard.

“I’ll just have to kiss it better,” I panted back, and leant over to press my lips to his brow.

“Best medicine in the world. Come on, let’s get up…”

I made it to my feet, but my arms shook like jelly and try as we might we couldn’t get Jon up between us.

“We’ll have to rest, Bane,” I gasped, as we lowered Jon back down as gently as we could.

Jon’s level of consciousness had been debatable for some time. But now his voice came thinly out of the blackness between us. “Bane?”

“I’m here.”

“Take Margo and go. You’ve done everything you can. Just leave me here, I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Fine. I won’t. Doesn’t make any difference now.
Go.”

“No,” I snapped, biting back the evil voice in my head saying,
Told you so.
“We’re not leaving you. We just need to rest for a bit, then we’ll carry on.”

“Bane,” Jon ignored me, “Do you want them to catch Margo? For pity’s sake—for
her
sake—
leave me.”

A long silence from Bane. Jon clearly wasn’t wasting his arguments.

“Sorry, Jon,” said Bane eventually. “I’m under the thumb of a very determined young woman, and I don’t think she’ll hear of it. Anyway, Margo’s right. We just need a bit of rest.”

I let out a relieved breath. Under my thumb, yeah right, Bane would leave Jon if he had to, to save me, but the threat of capture would need to be rather more imminent and the alternative considerably more impossible.

“Lie down, Margo, I’ll keep watch first,” said Bane, ignoring Jon’s eloquent silence.

“Seriously?”

“Well, I’ll try. I’ll put an alarm on a ten-minute snooze. Have a good listen each time. After a bit, I’ll give you the phone and you can do the same.”

“Okay.”

Bane moved to lie on my other side. I snuggled to his too-hot body, Jon shivering against my back... inspiration struck. Stiffly, I got up and climbed over Bane.

“Huh?”

“Go in the middle, Bane. You make a lovely radiator.”

“Oh.” Bane rolled over into the space I’d left and I snuggled up to him again. On his other side Jon made a happy little noise...

...Bane was shaking me awake—he pressed the phone into my hand.

“Put it under your ear, I think I missed a few.”

“Okay…” I struggled into a sitting position. Didn’t want to fall asleep before I’d even checked the alarm. Then I lay down and used the phone for a pillow. Wasn’t awake long enough to notice if it was uncomfortable.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

I jumped almost out of my skin. Swallowed a groan and my racing heart. Sat up. Listened hard. Checked I’d hit the snooze button. Lay down again.

Did it again and again and again.

Listening… My bleary eyes were closing even sat up. Check alarm…

Wait.

A shout? A
bark?
Impossible to tell over the wind.

“Bane!” I shook his shoulder. Lunging over him to shake Jon, my hand found thin air and I fell on Bane—he started awake.

“What?”

“Jon?
Jon?”
I climbed over Bane, feeling around frantically. Nothing. The ground where Jon had lain was cold.

“What’s wrong?”

“Jon’s gone! And I heard something…”

“He’s
what

?
Oh, I’m going to wring his neck!” With this expression of fraternal concern, Bane started to crawl around as well. But we both knew what Jon had done. We wouldn’t leave him, so he’d left us. Maybe that evil voice had been speaking to him, too.

“He thinks this is going to
help?”
growled Bane.

“Doubt he was thinking much in his condition, just desperate not to get us caught. He couldn’t walk, he can’t have got far.” Stupid,
stupid
, Jon, you know we won’t leave you…

A dim shaft of light pierced the blackness. Bane’s flashlight, his hand shielding the end.

“There…” A trail of blood-smeared grass and disturbed loam led from Jon’s place into the forest. Back the way we’d come. The direction the noise had come from. I didn’t mention that. No need to test the bonds of friendship too far.

We hurried just as fast as we could go without losing the trail. Jon was crawling, he couldn’t go far, he couldn’t…

Another noise. A bark, definitely a bark. Bane froze, quivering. Every instinct telling him to turn and run the other way. Knew how he felt.

“If we don’t find him very soon,” he muttered, “we may as well give it up ‘cause we’ll never outdistance them even if we do…”

We hurried on, trying to go twice as fast and twice as silently, all at once.

Another bark. Closer. Bottom of this slope? Hard to tell over the wind. Bane stopped dead again. “Okay. We’ve got to go, Margo.”

It wasn’t okay, but… Bane was right, if we found Jon, we wouldn’t be able to get him away…

“Just a little further?”

“It’s your dismantling!”

I swallowed. Took his flashlight arm and drew him onwards.

An agonized cry from somewhere ahead...

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