‘Bloody hell, Harry – what happened?’
He dropped to the floor, where Harry was lying in a congealed pool of blood. Groggy, but alive.
‘Get me out of here – and switch off the gas taps for goodness sake, I’m not insured,’ he murmured, then passed out.
Dan looked back to where Sarah was standing near the doorway, leaning on the wall, her hands over her mouth.
‘Don’t touch any light switches,’ he said. ‘Go down the road about one hundred metres and use your mobile to call an ambulance.’
She nodded, turned and ran.
Dan pulled Harry up onto his shoulder and, stooping under the weight, carried him out and away from the house. He set him down gently on the grass verge next to the car, leaning him against the vehicle. Turning, Dan ran back into the house and found the gas outlet outside the back door. He walked through the house, opening all the doors and windows, letting the breeze carry the stench and fumes out of the building.
Dan ran back down the garden path and crouched next to Harry. He picked up an arm, held Harry’s wrist in the palm of his hand and checked for a pulse. It was weak, but there.
Harry murmured in his comatose state and began to waken. He opened his eyes and looked around wildly.
‘It’s okay, Harry, I’m here,’ said Dan, putting his arm around the older man. ‘The gas is off. Ambulance is on it’s way.’
Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. ‘Thank you.’
‘Can you tell me what happened?’ Dan asked.
Harry swallowed. ‘Bastard forced his way in. Whacked me over the head and left me for dead. Probably turned the gas on to make it look like an accident.’
Dan nodded. ‘Sounds familiar. Can you remember what he looked like?’
‘Tall, thin – academic looking, wore glasses,’ murmured Harry.
The sound of a siren in the distance broke the silence.
‘You were lucky, you know that?’ said Dan. ‘A cut like that on your head, you’re lucky you didn’t bleed to death.’
Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his cardigan. He drew out a small bottle and shook it. ‘Heart medicine. Trust me – I wasn’t going to bleed to death. This stuff could stop a flood.’
Dan grinned. ‘You’re still going in the ambulance.’
Harry grimaced. ‘Damn,’ he said, and then passed out.
Dan squirmed and tried to get comfortable on the hard plastic chair and did his best to ignore the smell of antiseptic in the air. He shivered. He could hear his own cries of pain as he was carried through to an emergency hospital unit, far away. The stench of his own blood and shit. Fiery shrapnel in gaping wounds festering in his limbs. The screams from his friends as the medical staff did their best to save lives, stop the pain.
Dan shook his head, rubbed his eyes and stood up. He wandered over to a notice-board, reading whatever was pinned there to try to keep the memories away. He looked around at the sound of heels on the tiled floor. Sarah was hurrying towards him.
‘How is he?’ Dan asked, clutching her arm as she reached him.
‘He’ll be okay. They’ve got him on a low dose of oxygen to help get the gas out of his bloodstream and they’ve given him a mild sedative to help him rest.’
Dan hugged her with relief. ‘Did you tell them what happened?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘Not exactly. I told them he’s living on his own, tends to be a bit forgetful about things.’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t think you or Harry would want to make a big fuss of it, given the circumstances.’
Dan nodded. ‘Good thinking.’
Sarah looked around. ‘So the man with the glasses did follow us from Singapore.’
‘Looks that way. He moves fast too – Delaney must be beginning to worry about us.’
‘Do you think Harry will be safe here?’
‘Probably,’ said Dan. ‘They’ve got security on the main entrances. The nurse’s station in the ward won’t let anyone visit without an appointment and identification. I’ll have a word with someone I know and ask him to look after Harry too.’ He looked at his watch, then nodded to himself.
Sarah interrupted his thoughts. ‘What is it?’
Dan looked along the hospital corridor, then down at Sarah.
‘Come with me,’ he said, and hurried out to the visitors’ car park.
Near Denchworth, Oxfordshire
Dan swung the car left and slowed to a halt in front of two large gate pillars. A rusting wrought-iron gate blocked their way, a chain and padlock hanging between the bars.
‘What is this place?’ asked Sarah, sitting up straight in her seat.
‘Home,’ said Dan, as he opened his door and stepped out into the frosty air.
Sarah frowned and turned to ask him what he meant, but stopped short as he slammed the car door shut. She heard the muffled sound of his boots on the gravel driveway and watched as he walked towards the gates, removing a set of keys from his jeans pocket. He turned slightly back towards the car, holding the keys up in the light. Once satisfied he had the right one selected, he turned back to the gate and inserted the key in the padlock. Removing the chain, he first opened one side of the gates, then the other and walked back to the car.
Dan climbed in, throwing the chain and padlock on the floor by Sarah’s feet. Easing off the handbrake, he drove the car slowly through the gates. He stopped, retrieved the padlock and chain and got out, locking the gates behind them. He walked back to the car, pocketed the keys and got in.
‘That’s bloody freezing out there,’ he said, releasing the handbrake and guiding the car up the driveway.