Panting and ferocious, Petra raised the weapon for a second swing, but Dane stopped her.
‘Woah, woah,’ he was saying, getting to his feet. ‘Petra, Petra. It’s OK.’
Through a veil of red mist, she slowly came to her senses, hearing Dane’s voice as if through deep water.
‘Petra?’ he was repeating. She was staring at the catatonic body slumped between them. She felt Dane’s hand on her shoulder and suddenly snapped back from her trance into reality. Dane was looking at her, cautious, wary, and gently took the blood-smeared alloy leg from her hand.
She felt herself relax. ‘Shit. I just –’
But before she could finish the thought, a deafening CRACK rang out and the gangster’s head exploded before them. Gasping for air, she lurched back and saw that the unscarred half of Ahmed’s face had been blown away, leaving the burnt, bloody, sodden mess of half a head lolling on his shoulders.
Carly was screaming. Mary was holding the pistol.
‘WHAT THE FUCK?’ Dane shouted.
Petra stammered, ‘He… he was still breathing! Why did you –?’
‘It was self-defence!’ blurted Mary with a slight tremor. ‘He was going to kill us! Ed? It was self-defence!’
Ed was sitting on the floor, a flat, loose trouser leg flopping below the knee. ‘Of course it was. You had no choice.’
Petra felt sick but chose not to argue with a cold woman holding a warm gun. Mary ushered herself past her, crouched at the corpse and used Ahmed’s T-shirt to wipe the gun before wrapping the weapon in the dead man’s palm.
Dane realised he was holding Ed’s prosthetic leg. ‘So,’ he said, holding it out towards him, ‘this is yours.’
Chapter 11
A world away, a mile through rock and down the hill, in the Luna Rossa bar Krishna was incredulous. ‘You’re having a laugh, right? It can’t be that bad. Scary stories to keep the kids away, I reckon.’
Behind the bar Fraser shook his head. Krishna wasn’t buying their sinister stories of dangers in the dark within the labyrinthine rock. ‘Well,’ droned the barman, ‘maybe it’s not that bad. You do hear tales, o’ course. Drug dealers, smugglers, but …’ he pointed to the nicotine-coated monkeys, sticky with grime, on the shelf. ‘I wouldn’t know, now, would I?’
Krishna sensed he was playing it down, but the thought of his friends scouting around in the gloom up there unsettled him. ‘I feel a bit bad for Petra. I mean, she had nothing to do with it. Got talked into it, know what I mean?’
‘How so?’
‘Just, it was bloody Dane who caused Mary to drop Carly’s stupid ring in the first place, shoving me into the monkeys.’
‘Oh, right,’ nodded Fraser. ‘So you startled a rock ape?’
‘Not me! Well, yes, me, but …’ he shook his head. ‘I’m sure it won’t take long to find,’ he said, trying to convince himself. ‘I mean, they know where Mary dropped it.’
‘Aye,’ agreed Fraser. ‘You wait, they’ll be walking though that door any minute, diamond on her finger, drinks all round. No need for you to worry.’
‘The monkeys alone are enough to stop me going back,’ he muttered. ‘Ahh, they’ll be fine,’ he decided, and took a swig of his pint.
‘Is it going to work?’ asked Mary. She was crouching next to Ed, who was grappling to re-attach his bent and bloody prosthetic leg to a smooth stump of flesh just below his knee. Petra had never seen a prosthesis being attached. Its moulded cup and straps were fascinating, but at the same time it felt rude to stare.
‘It’ll do,’ grunted Ed. ‘But they’re not really built for bludgeoning.’
Petra instinctively apologised, which sounded silly given that she’d just saved their lives. Ed pushed himself up against the wall and stood on his feet. The boot on the fake foot jutted inwards at an odd angle but a few tentative steps with Mary at his side revealed he could walk on it.
‘How did it happen?’ asked Carly. ‘The leg.’
‘Occupational hazard.’
‘Iraq or Afghanistan?’ asked Dane.
‘Come on, we’ve got to get out,’ Mary interrupted. ‘The other guys could still be in here somewhere.’
‘Hang on,’ Petra said. ‘What about him?’
They looked at her, waiting for more.
‘Well, we can’t just leave him, can we?’
‘It’s not a “him”, it’s a cadaver,’ Mary corrected. ‘Just tissue and bones.’
This woman had the ability to make Petra’s hackles rise every time she opened her mouth. ‘That’s not the point, Mary, I just don’t think it’s right to –’
But before she could continue Ed put his hand on her shoulder and said, ‘Petra, it’s OK. We’ll tell the police what happened when we get out. They’ll deal with it. You won’t be in any trouble.’
‘I won’t be in any trouble? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ But he’d turned away and Mary was trotting after him. She looked to Carly for support but Dane was pulling her in Mary’s wake. She followed them, anger, regret and guilt twisting at her insides. After a few moments she cast a glance back down the tunnel and saw darkness swallowing the coagulating corpse. In a few steps it had vanished. Her violence erased from view.
After a minute or so of stifling silence they moved past a tunnel opening that appeared to go uphill and Carly held Dane back. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘This one looks like it goes up. Shouldn’t we go up?’
‘Er … I thought we were going with Ed,’ Petra replied. ‘We’ve literally just agreed that.’ She was still pissed off and her tone sounded condescending, but Carly didn’t seem to notice.
Carly turned to Ed. ‘But you said the tunnels further up were easier. The concert hall, remember? I’m going up.’
But Dane held her back. ‘Wait.’
‘We should head towards the edge,’ advised Ed. ‘We’re bound to hit an outer wall eventually.’
Petra nodded, which seemed to annoy Carly, who turned on Ed.
‘Who the fuck put you in charge? You’re as lost as we are! Come on, Dane. Let’s head for the top.’ But Dane didn’t follow her. He stood fast. In the dim torchlight and green hue of a glow-stick Petra saw frustration on his face: to stay with the group or leave with his hot-headed fiancé …?
‘Ed?’ he asked. ‘Shouldn’t we go up?’
‘Going up means going back in. We should stick together and head for the edge.’
Carly shook her head in disbelief at Dane’s lack of loyalty. She squared up to Ed and Mary. ‘We trusted you guys. We trusted you because you said you knew this place and now look at us! We’re totally fucking lost! There are men with guns who want to kill us! And –’ she thrust her hand back towards the dead end ‘– we’ve murdered someone! Correction. You murdered someone. Both of you.’ She pointed at Petra. ‘I’m getting the fuck out of here.’
Heat rose up Petra’s neck. ‘Fuck you!’ It stopped Carly short. ‘Just fuck you, Carly. We’re only in this place because of you!’
Then Mary joined her. ‘That’s right. I haven’t heard you say thanks, or sorry. Thanks for helping me look for my shitty ring. Thanks for saving my shitty life. Sorry for nearly getting you all slaughtered.’
‘Back the fuck off!’ Petra jabbed a finger at Mary. She didn’t need her as an ally. ‘None of this would have happened if it weren’t for you!’
‘It was Carly who begged to come down here!’
‘WELL, I’M NOT THE ONE WHO DROPPED THE FUCKING RING!’ Carly yelled. The three of them were nose to nose, bellowing spittle at each other. Ed pulled Mary away. ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere.’
Mary took a few breaths, calmed herself and resumed a schoolmistress-like tone. ‘You’re right, darling. Of course. Carly, I’m sorry about your ring, but really, you don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s a maze up there. Come with us.’
Carly spat back, ‘If anyone here is clueless, love, it’s you. I’m going up. Up, and out. Come on, Dane.’ Dane looked torn. He looked to Petra but she
had nothing to say. That moment of hesitation was all it took. Carly flung his hand from her grip and through choked tears said, ‘I can’t fucking believe you,’ before stomping away into the darkness of the rising passage.
‘Carly!’ Dane called, but she kept on walking. He sighed and turned back to the group. ‘Shit, sorry guys. I’ll go get her.’ He started up the slope but Ed grabbed his elbow to stop him.
‘Wait, Dane. It’s a labyrinth in there. The last thing we need is two of you getting lost. You stay with us. Mary, you go and fetch Carly because you know the upper tunnels better than anyone. We’ll wait for you at the barracks room. It’s just down here. Remember?’ She nodded. ‘It’s safe if we just sit tight till you’re both back with us.’
She walked up the passage with one of the two remaining torches and Petra felt the darkness push in around them.
The Luna Rossa was quieter now. The TV had been muted and most of the regulars had gone home. In an almost empty room one man was full. Full of beer, full of warmth and full of slightly slurred technical information. ‘It’s an HDR lenzz, 5G, UHR screen – that’s Ulchra-High Rezlooshun.’ Krishna was proudly displaying his new gadget to a patient audience of one. ‘Look,’ he beckoned, swiping photographs across the glossy screen. ‘’Mazin’ quality for a phone.’
Fraser leaned forward, squinting at the brightly coloured photograph of Krishna’s gang of friends standing in the sunshine up on the rock earlier, a palm-sized slice of happy lives. He lifted the phone from Krishna’s hand and curled his lip.
‘What?’ asked Krishna.
Fraser snorted indifference and rolled his eyes. ‘Edward Pilkington,’ he muttered.
‘Who? The military guy? He’s up there with them now. You know him?’
Fraser handed the phone back and said, ‘Oh, aye. This is Gib, remember. Everybody knows everybody. He’s not military, sunshine. Call of bloody Duty on the X-Box; that’s all the military experience Ed the cripple’s had.’
Krishna felt a wince of discomfort at Andy’s archaic language. ‘What d’you mean, erm … cripple?’
Fraser dug his thumbs into the arch of his lower back and Krishna heard a crack. The barman breathed a satisfied sigh and said, ‘He’s got a false leg. Had some sorta blood disease when he was a kid. Had a prosthesis since he was a wee lad. Hop-along wishes he’d been in the army,’ said the Scotsman. ‘Wanted to be an army medic. Till he dropped out of medical college. Not many places in Her Majesty’s armed forces for one-legged quitters. We’re not that near the bottom of the barrel yet, thank Christ.’
Krishna was confused by this new information. He was certain Ed had said he was in the army. But before his fuddled brain could replay their earlier meeting, Fraser was pointing to the photo and asking him a question. ‘So these two are a couple. They’re in room three. And this girl? Are you and her together?’
‘What, Petra? Naaaa. I reckon that was their plan. Dane’s my mate from work, and his girlfriend Carly – sorry, fiancé – is trying to set me up with her. They go back years, I think.’
‘Well, that’s clearly going very well,’ Fraser drawled, ‘given that you’re sitting on yer arse down here.’
‘Hmmm. I kinda messed things up when I got spooked by that bloody monkey. Made a right tit of myself.’
This drew a good rasping laugh from Fraser. ‘Behold! The fearless red-blooded Englishman! In the quest for the maiden’s hand, nothing can defeat him! Except a monkey.’ This reduced him to coughing fits of mirth.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ said Krishna. ‘You weren’t there. Anyway, you’re too scared to go up there in the dark! You just said as much!’
‘True,’ agreed Fraser. ‘But so are you.’
‘What? I’d go up there right now.’
The barman raised an eyebrow and said, ‘Away then, mighty warrior.’
‘Y’know what?’ said Krishna, draining his pint and slamming the glass on the bar. ‘I bloody will. I’m gonna walk back up there, give ’em a call and see where they are. I’m back in the band!’
‘That’s the spirit, wee man,’ laughed Fraser. ‘Amazing what some Dutch courage can do. Go get her.’
Krishna stood up. ‘Sir, it’s been a pleasure. I shall return, the conquering hero, with a beautiful maiden upon my arm.’
‘Or failing that,’ added Fraser, ‘that Petra lass.’ He chortled at his own joke then held up a scrap of paper with some scribbled numbers on it. ‘Shall I put these on sir’s room?’
With a nod Krishna was out the door, the fresh night air on his face and a mission on his mind.
Petra had never seen anything like this. She was standing in a long, professionally dug military barrack area. It had bench seats cut into the rock and further up the walls her sweeping torch found cut-outs, shelves and bunk space. ‘How did we walk past this? I don’t remember seeing –’
She was interrupted by Dane. ‘What the hell am I doing? What am I doing just standing here? I should have gone after her.’
‘Dane, relax,’ instructed Ed. ‘Stop pacing. Sit. Mary will find her.’
‘How can you just sit there? I should be doing something. Why did I let her go?’
‘Mary will find her,’ Ed repeated, sounding bored.
‘How do you know?’
‘No one knows these tunnels as well as Mary.’
Dane laughed a hopeless guffaw. ‘Yeah, right! Then why are we lost, Ed?’
‘Because of you.’
Dane stopped walking a groove into the centre of the room. ‘How the fuck d’you work that out?’
Ed was calm in his response. ‘You barged ahead when Mary was telling you to wait.’
‘What?’
‘You remember,’ he smiled, ‘back when I had two working legs and Petra hadn’t bludgeoned a man to death.’
‘Woah,’ said Petra. ‘He was still breathing! It was your psychotic girlfriend who –’
But Ed spoke over her, the belligerent army general returning to the surface. ‘You barged ahead when Mary was telling you to wait. We had no choice but to follow you.’
‘Well you’re the fucking tour guide!’ shouted Dane.
‘And you’re the idiot who got us trapped down a dead end,’ Ed spat through gritted teeth.
‘Just shut up! Both of you!’ Petra was holding her hand in the air, like a child in class wanting to speak. They both looked at her. She turned to face the high wall and slowly scanned her dim torch beam across its ridges and ledges. ‘I’ve got an idea.’
With the lights of the town behind him, Krishna strode purposefully away from the yellow warmth of the Luna Rossa towards the dark, pointed shadow towering up from the ground before him. Every step towards the menacing silhouette sapped his beer-fuelled bravado just a little, and by the time he reached the foot of the long, winding path up the rock, the thought of the warm bed he’d left behind had a magnetic pull on his unfit body.
‘C’mon, man,’ he whispered to himself. ‘You’ve got this.’ He surveyed the ground in the moonlight. The path banked gently off to his right but looking up he could see the main entrance they had stood at a few hours ago. There was a much shorter route if he climbed up the grassy, gravelly slope. There were shrubs, and he knew how big some of the spiders were in those shrubs, but he calculated a course that would avoid those. He tried dialling Dane’s phone again, but again, as in the previous four attempts, it went straight to voicemail. He looked back at the shimmering lights of Gibraltar town, then up the steep bank to the mouth of the monstrous rock. They think I’m tucked up with a dicky tummy watching Netflix, he thought. And I could be. If I turn around I could be back in my room in fifteen minutes.
But he saw Fraser’s mocking grin as he walked back in, alone, defeated. A coward, scared by his own shadow. He looked up at the Goliath of a rock. He could regain some lost pride, possibly regain some lost ground with Petra. The fire in his belly reignited.
‘OK, buddy. Let’s do this,’ he said aloud. ‘Climb the hill, meet the others, get the ri
ng. Easy.’ He cracked his knuckles and started heaving his weight up the steep bank, around shrubs, across shale, a more or less straight line up. ‘Climb the hill, meet the others, get the ring,’ he repeated like a mantra. ‘I sound like bloody Frodo.’
‘Help me up.’ Petra handed the torch to Ed.
‘What?’
‘Not you, Ed. No offence, but … Dane, give me a leg up.’
‘Why?’ asked Ed.
She was pulling Dane towards the wall, positioning him in a particular spot. She offered him her foot and he dutifully cupped his hands beneath it. She pushed herself up, pulled her phone from her back pocket and with an athletic twist stepped up onto a high, chiselled-out shelf. ‘Higher up,’ she explained, ‘I might get a signal.’
Dane tutted like his effort had been for nothing. ‘You reckon?’
She had her stomach flat to the wall, her feet spaced wide on the shelf and the side of her forehead was touching cold, damp rock where it arced across to the ceiling above her. Moving slowly, she lifted her phone in an outstretched hand.
Ed said, ‘Careful, Petra,’ and Dane stood below her, braced to catch.
She raised it high and pressed the screen. It illuminated to reveal no signal strength at all. Also, the battery indicator was red and showing five per cent.
‘Anything?’ asked Dane.
‘About to die,’ she grunted, reaching as high as she could without toppling backwards. With a gasp, she gave up. ‘My phone’s crap. I’ve got nothing. Pass me yours.’ She tossed her phone down to Dane, who grumbled, ‘This is pointless,’ as he passed his own phone up to her. She returned to her tall stretch and almost lost her balance when she saw the screen light up. ‘One bar!’
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