“I dunno. I guess about two hours.”
The fight must have started about twenty minutes after I left Nesbitt and would have been over in a few minutes at most. I woke and went to the stream to wash and have been waiting here for around an hour. So it seems I only slept for ten minutes or so—not long at all. But I can’t remember anything between standing above the cave and waking up with Kieran’s knife in my thigh and his blood in my mouth. I had to lie in the stream to get all the blood off. It covered my face and neck and chest.
Now Nesbitt is swigging out of a hip flask and looking at me, then down at Kieran. When our eyes meet he says, “Well, kid, I guess your Gift is like your dad’s, huh?”
I don’t answer.
Nesbitt puts his hand over his mouth, moves closer to Kieran, and peers at him. “Did you break his neck first or did that happen when you ripped his throat out?”
“Shut up.”
“And his stomach is sort of all over the ground here, so I’m guessing you have big claws and jaws and—”
“Shut up.”
“Just thought it might help to, you know . . . talk about it.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Drink?” He holds the flask out to me. “Might take the taste away.”
I swear at him.
“Being practical about things, killing them both was the only sensible solution.”
“I said shut up. We need to leave.”
“Yes, and soon. But we don’t need to panic.”
“I’m not panicking.” Though I’m itching to get going.
“Those two couldn’t have told anyone what they were up to, otherwise the hillside would be swarming with Hunters by now.”
“And what makes you think the hillside isn’t swarming with Hunters?”
He grins. “Cos we’re still alive. And I admit, mate, that I did get quite a way before I decided to come back.” He takes another swig from his flask. “I don’t think there’s anyone but us and two dead bodies for miles. And they didn’t bring guns. Hunters usually carry a full bloody armory. These are the guys from the cottage, aren’t they? Gabriel told us about that place and I checked it out three days ago from a safe distance, a considerable safe distance. In fact, from the other side of the valley, with binoculars. Have you been at the cottage recently?”
“Two nights ago.”
“They’ll have found your tracks. You know, when I met you the first time I thought you left a trail cos you were ill, not cos you don’t know how to keep hidden.”
I swear at him again. I wasn’t that careful but that’s because I was planning on leaving. Or did I do it on purpose? Did I hope Kieran would find the trail? I’m not sure I really know.
Nesbitt continues. “I reckon they were out for a stroll; they never thought you’d be daft enough to go back to the cottage. They were wandering around, picking berries or something, when they saw your tracks—certainly not mine cos I never leave any and I wasn’t stupid enough to go close to the cottage—and they followed the trail here. They should have gone back for their guns but they didn’t want to risk losing you. We got lucky but they’ll be missed soon. We need to get going. We’ll have to leave them where they are. Not so nice if they’re found by fains but I think the Hunters’ll clean it all up before then.”
“Let’s get out of here.” I lift my rucksack onto my shoulder.
Kieran’s body is lying at my feet. His right eye isn’t quite shut; the left side is pulp and tiny flies are caught in the blood. Nesbitt goes through Kieran’s clothes, taking a knife, torch, money, but tossing the phone aside. He puts the booty into his rucksack before slinging it onto his back and walking away.
I set off but can’t help looking back one last time. More flies have collected on Kieran’s face so that from a distance he looks like he’s wearing a black eyepatch. His neck is mostly gone, the white of his spine visible below his head, but his upper chest is intact. I didn’t eat his heart, that’s for sure, but his stomach is open, his guts hanging out in a red and purple morass. And I wonder what sort of animal does that to a human being.
Van Dal
We hike fast. Nesbitt must be in his early thirties. He’s fit and clearly a good fighter but I have to slow down for him and stop when he wants to rest. I could run all day, all night, and all the next day, even though I’ve hardly slept. I can almost sleep while I run.
Nesbitt won’t say where we’re going but when we leave the mountains and the forest we walk along a path between fields, toward a town lying below us. I can see a railway line and ask him if we’re going by train. He says, “Public transport? For us? No, mate, we need to find a car.”
“A car or your car?”