They didn’t run, but walked a fast steady pace, making little enough noise that they could hear the woods around them, the sounds of birds, a distant tractor somewhere. Once Dan thought he heard the motorbike again, but it came to nothing.
They could see ahead of them when the woods were coming to an end, the brightness blurring the lines of the trees. They slowed a little more, approaching the road beyond with an increased level of vigilance.
Before breaching the undergrowth that bordered the road, they both crouched down, embedding themselves within it. Dan took the binoculars from his rucksack and scanned the open country in front of them.
He could see a road cutting across the flat fields to a village beyond, and if he had his bearings right, Auxerre was a little way beyond that. To get to the town, they had to cross at least some open country, and there was precious little cover once they were out there.
Then he noticed a stand of trees halfway between them and the village, though slightly off to the right, and just visible from their position was the front of a black car that was parked behind it. He couldn’t be certain it was the same car, but he was as certain as he needed to be about what it was doing there. Briefly, he wondered if he’d been wrong to abandon the car. It hardly mattered, but it undoubtedly looked now like they needed a new plan.
Chapter Thirty-three
Dan lowered the binoculars and said, “The trees over there, the car’s parked behind them. Not sure if it’s the same one, but I doubt they’re birdwatchers.”
She didn’t look but said, “Then we should move back a little.”
They edged backwards slowly, deeper into the undergrowth, though Dan doubted the guy would be bothered to search the tree line—he knew Dan and Inger would have to break cover sooner or later.
As they crouched there, neither of them readily suggesting a next move, he heard the motorbike again, approaching from the right along the narrow road in front of them. He didn’t seem to be doing any great speed, which suggested he was scanning into the trees as he rode.
Dan looked back at the path they’d walked along and said, “Can you ride a motorbike?”
“No, can you?”
“Not since I was about fifteen, but I can.” There wasn’t time to discuss it. He said, “Stay here. With any luck, the motorbike will hit the deck right in front of you. Pull it into the undergrowth and back onto that path if you can.”
He jumped up, ran about ten paces off to the right, crouched again. The bike was approaching, the revs a menacing purr at that speed. Dan held still as the guy passed immediately in front of him. It was a risk, because the guys in the car were probably watching the biker, but it had to be worth taking.
The biker was past now and Dan jumped up, stepped out and fired off a couple of shots in quick succession, one into the bigger target of his back, then one higher. The guy immediately fell sideways, the bike revving and sliding out from under him.
Dan didn’t see any more, diving back into the undergrowth, scurrying away, and even then he only just made it, a shot cracking into the branches close by. He didn’t wait for more but ran back towards Inger.
She’d pulled the bike through the undergrowth and was pushing it now onto the narrow path they’d used. She already had her rucksack on and he could see his over the handlebar.
He grabbed it, taking hold of the bike at the same time. Another shot clattered through the air, splintering into a tree a few feet away.
“Start running down the path. I’ll catch up.”
She glanced at him, wanting to be sure that he would follow, then set off along the path. He dropped his gun into the rucksack, threw it over his shoulder and jumped on the bike. It only took a second, coming back to him now, but just before he kick-started it again he heard the car engine start up somewhere behind him.
She’d got a fair distance along the path, but stopped when she heard him approaching. She jumped on the back, sliding her arms around his waist, and even now, even in the middle of fleeing, her touch ran through him, mingling with the blood rush of the chase.
He rode fast, letting his instinct guide him, knowing all the time that they’d be circling back around the woods at speed themselves. They reached a firebreak and he turned right, opening it up even more, slowing as they reached the barrier onto the road where he’d parked earlier.
He edged around the barrier, glanced up, saw his own SUV still parked to the right, but didn’t hang around, making headlong for the road at the edge of the woods.
At the junction, he stopped briefly, looking at the road as it curved away and made for the distant village. He turned instead and headed back the way they’d first come, the dead rider and crashed bike still on the pale road surface ahead of them.
He was about to ride around him, but hesitated, glancing back into the trees, seeing now that the undergrowth here wasn’t as impenetrable as he’d first thought when they’d driven past it.