9
We moved straight into the trees and started climbing.
Charlie was soon in trouble. I could hear his laboured breathing. He was carrying his injured ankle at a very unnatural angle.
I moved alongside him and put my mouth to his ear. ‘Let’s just do it until we can’t see any more, OK? He could be anywhere.’
It wasn’t as if there was any ground sign we could follow. The floor was covered with pine needles. He stopped and listened, mouth open, his head cocked to the left so his right ear faced dead ahead.
Finding our way back to the wagon again wouldn’t be hard, even in the dark. All we’d have to do was drop downhill until we hit the road.
The rain battered its way through the canopy of firs, and the wind howled.
Charlie set off.
I stayed where I was. I’d be his ears while he moved about five paces ahead.
I drew level with him and he set off again. I wouldn’t move beyond him. I didn’t have a weapon. He was going to be front man. It was the way he wanted it.
He took his time, weapon in the shoulder, forty-five degrees down but ready to swing up, safety still off all the way down to the second click.
He stopped after just one pace. It looked like his ankle had finally packed in on him. He crouched against a tree, looking up the hill.
I spoke into his ear. ‘I’m getting knackered myself, mate. There’s no way that fat bastard’s going to climb any higher.’
Charlie pointed left, parallel to the road. His hand was shaking. He gave me a thumbs-up and adjusted the RPK, ready to move again.
I grabbed an arm before he could do so. ‘You want me to take point?’
He held up a hand and we both watched it shake.
‘Nah,’ he said simply. ‘He owes me, lad. And not just for a f*cking bacon sandwich.’
He hobbled four paces to the left, weapon in the shoulder, following the contour of the slope.
I moved up to him again, keeping a bit of distance so our joint mass didn’t present too easy a target.
He was silent for another few seconds, then dropped down into a waist-deep depression carved out by years of running water from the hilltop.
He froze almost immediately, reacting to a rustling noise in the dead ground.
There was a loud shout. ‘F*ck you!’
Then a heavy-calibre shot and a falling body.
Charlie was down.