At that instant, one of the helicopters came roaring around the side of the mountain, in between them and the canyon, and hovered in front of them, only about twenty-five feet from the ground. It blew up such billowing clouds of dust that it almost disappeared, but Martin could still make out that it was blue, dark blue, and that it carried the silver logo of the ESS.
He slammed on the brakes and the Eldorado slewed ninety degrees to the left. When it stopped, it see-sawed for a few seconds across the top of the ridge, but then with a buckling metallic creak it slid backward, about twenty or thirty feet, until its rear end crunched softly into a thicket of chaparral.
‘Out!’ shouted Martin. ‘Get out of the car, now, and hit the ground!’
Even through the dust, he could see that the helicopter’s side door was open, and a security guard in a dark blue uniform and sunglasses was leaning out of it, with one booted foot resting on the landing skid. He was holding a carbine across his lap, and he was tilting his head left and right, trying to see where they were. The roaring of the helicopter’s rotors was overwhelming, like a sawmill, and Martin could hardly think straight.
He opened his door and knelt down beside the car. First he folded back the driver’s seat so that Ella could clamber out of the back. Then he held out his hands for Saskia to pass Mina across to him. Saskia came out last, keeping her head well down, and using her elbows to wriggle across the front seats like a Marine under fire.
Once they were all out, and crouching behind the car for cover, Martin shouted, ‘Stay here! I’m going to go check on the others!’
He struggled his way through the scratchy chaparral to reach the back of the car. Opening up the trunk a few inches, he groped around inside until he found one of the Colt Commandos, and then two spare clips of ammunition. He lifted the gun out, and slotted in one of the magazines. Saskia and Ella both looked at him anxiously, but he raised his hand and shouted, ‘Don’t worry! I’m not going to kill anybody! Not unless I don’t have any choice!’
Staying low, he made his way past Ella and Saskia to the front of the car and then cautiously lifted his head and took a look across the hood. The helicopter was still in the same position in front of the canyon entrance, about twenty-five feet in the air, although it was rotating very slowly around and around so that the security guard with the carbine could keep all three of their vehicles covered.
He could see Peta and Tyler, hunkering down behind their Hilux. He shouted to Peta, and whistled, but the helicopter was making too much noise for him to be able to catch her attention.
Santos and Susan and the children had climbed out of their Suburban, but they had made no attempt to hide behind it, or use it as a shield. They were simply gathered beside it, quite openly, with Susan holding little George in his arms, and Santos standing between Mikey and Nathan, with his hands resting protectively on their shoulders.
Martin realized that the helicopter couldn’t land here, because the ground directly beneath it was much too stony, and it also sloped sideways at two sharply conflicting angles. In front of the canyon entrance the ground was much more level, and there were far fewer boulders strewn around, but if the pilot tried to bring the helicopter any closer, there would be a serious risk that the tips of his rotors would strike the overhanging rocks.
No – Martin reckoned that this helicopter was simply hovering here to guard them, so that they wouldn’t try to get away. The pilot of the second helicopter must have gone looking for a place to land nearby, and a team of ESS security guards was probably making their way toward them, even now.
Martin stayed where he was, keeping his head well down. From the random way that the security guard on the side of the helicopter kept looking around, it was clear that he hadn’t spotted him yet.
‘What’s happening, Martin?’ Saskia shouted, from behind him. ‘Can’t we just make a run for it?’
‘We wouldn’t stand a chance! Besides – I think the other chopper must have put down someplace, and they’ll be sending some of their goons on foot! I want to see which direction they’re coming from first!’
That was one of the lessons he had learned in Afghanistan, the hard way. Until you find out what your enemy’s planning to do, do nothing. Watch and assess.
He didn’t have to wait too long. After only a few minutes, four ESS security guards came jog-trotting around the side of the mountain. They were all dressed in full combat gear, with helmets and face masks, and three of them were armed with carbines. They took up positions on either side of the helicopter, their weapons raised. They could see only Santos and Susan and the children, who were obviously no threat to them, but they kept their distance. It was more than likely that some of them had been in the team that had tried to catch up with Martin at Peta’s house, and that was why they were being so wary.
The security guard on the side of the helicopter dropped down a white heavy-duty bullhorn to the leader of the men on foot. He caught it and slung the lanyard around his wrist, and then he switched it on and tested it out. ‘One – two – three! Can you people hear me? Put up your hands if you can hear me!’
Santos and the children looked at each other apprehensively, and then Santos gave the security guard a jerky, reluctant wave. Although the helicopter was roaring so loudly, the bullhorn amplified the security guard’s voice to more than ninety decibels. On a quiet day, they could have heard him more than a mile away.
‘OK, good!’ he bellowed. ‘We’re looking for only two people! You got it? We don’t care about the rest of you! The rest of you are free to go wherever you want!’
Martin glanced over his shoulder at Saskia. She was holding Mina close to her chest, her fingers buried in Mina’s greasy hair, and she was frowning with worry. ‘She’s really sick, Martin! Maybe we should just give ourselves up! I mean, what are they going to do to us?’
‘Just stay down,’ Martin told her. ‘I don’t trust these clowns one inch.’
‘We’re looking for Martin Makepeace! You got that? Martin Makepeace we’re looking for! And Saskia Vane! That’s Sas-ki-a Vane! Those are the two individuals we need to locate! The rest of you, you’re all free to go!’
Saskia said, ‘Come on, Martin! This is all over! We can’t go on running any more! The kids can’t take it, and I don’t think I can, either!’
‘Please, Saskia! Trust me!’ said Martin. ‘Just stay where you are!’
‘What about your own kids – Ella here, and Tyler! What about your ex? You’re not going to put them through any more of this, are you?’
‘Saskia—’ Martin began, but then he was interrupted again by the security guard with the bullhorn.
‘We’re not going to wait here for ever, people! We need Martin Makepeace and Saskia Vane to come forward and give themselves up! If they don’t, we’ll be forced to take punitive measures against you!
He paused, waiting for Santos to respond, but Santos did nothing more than draw Mikey and Nathan closer to him. The security guard lifted up the bullhorn again and announced, ‘Listen up! Five! I’ll give you five! If Martin Makepeace and Saskia Vane fail to show themselves by then, we’re going to confiscate your vehicles and take you back to the city under arrest! We have the legal authority and make no mistake we’ll use it!’
Saskia suddenly stood up, still carrying Mina in her arms.
‘Saskia – no – for Christ’s sake!’ said Martin, and snatched at the leg of her pants as she pushed her way past him, but she shook herself free.
She walked out in front of the Eldorado and stood there defiantly. ‘I’m Saskia Vane!’ she shouted. ‘If you want me, you’d better come get me! But you let everybody else go!’
Immediately, with no further warning, the security guard with the bullhorn pointed at Saskia, with his arm held out straight, and two of his men lifted their carbines and fired at her. Saskia dropped on to the rocks and rolled over, and Mina tumbled out of her arms and lay next to her.
Another security guard fired, but the bullets ricochete
d off the ground. One of them smashed one of the Eldorado’s headlights, and the other pinged off its radiator grille.
Santos spread his arms out wide and tried to shepherd all of his grandchildren back behind his truck and out of the line of fire. Susan stumbled, and fell on to one knee, but she managed to get back on her feet again without dropping little George.
Mikey, however, pulled himself away from Santos and started to run toward Saskia and Mina, as they lay on the ground.
‘That’s my baby sister!’ he screamed. ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! That’s my baby sister! She’s sick!’
‘Mikey!’ shouted Santos. ‘Mikey, come back here!’
But Mikey kept running, his eyes wild and his hair sticking up.
‘That’s my baby sister! Don’t shoot!’
He had nearly reached Mina when a single shot cracked, almost drowned by the noise of the helicopter. Mikey stumbled and cartwheeled and then pitched forward on to the rocks. He managed to lift his head up a little, but then he fell forward again, and lay still.
Martin, crouching behind the fender of his Eldorado, felt as if a freezing ocean wave had crashed over him. He was so angry and so shocked that he was shaking. But this wasn’t the haphazard rage of post-traumatic stress disorder. This wasn’t the blind, illogical fury that had led him to shout at Peta and push her from one side of the room to the other.
This was the same ice-cold anger that he had felt when he was on patrol in Afghanistan, and one of his friends had fallen down right in front of him, hit by a Taliban sniper. You didn’t scream and shout and start firing wildly in all directions. You immediately hit the ground and took whatever cover you could find, and even though you were shaking you worked out where the shot had come from, and when you picked out that raghead’s position you took extremely precise aim and squeezed the trigger and you blew his fucking face off.
Martin lifted the Colt Commando over the hood of the car and aimed it at the helicopter. It was an AS-50 AStar and he knew exactly where the fuel tank was, under the transmission deck. It was self-sealing and designed to be crashworthy, but even a self-sealing tank wouldn’t be able to stand up to a sustained burst of sub-machine gun fire.
The helicopter was slowly rotating anticlockwise, its right flank gradually becoming more exposed, so Martin held back until he could take his best shot. Apart from the helicopter, though, everything else appeared to have become suspended in time. The security guards underneath it were still standing like toy action figures with their weapons raised. The security guard with the bullhorn was still pointing to the spot where Saskia had fallen. Santos still had his arms outstretched, trying to shield his grandchildren. Peta and Tyler were still cowering behind their pickup.
As the helicopter turned side-on, however, the security guard who was standing in its open door caught sight of Martin behind his car. He started to lift his carbine and shouted something to the men on the ground, but they didn’t appear to hear him.
Martin fired two three-round bursts at the helicopter, to find his range. He heard Ella behind him scream, ‘Daddy!’ but he could see the pattern of bullets hitting the dark blue fuselage almost exactly where he wanted them to, just behind the ESS logo, and he ignored her. He switched to automatic and kept on firing until the thirty-round magazine was empty.
The bullets hammered a ragged star-shaped hole in the side of the helicopter, and its gears instantly seized up, with a scream like a tortured beast. With a grating metallic shriek, its rotors stopped, and it started to drop, but before it could hit the ground its fuel tank exploded. Martin ducked down behind his car again as a tsunami of heat overwhelmed him, as scorchingly hot as his anger had been icy cold.
Fragments of helicopter were blasted in every direction, rattling and bouncing up against the walls of the canyon, clattering against their vehicles, and cracking the windshield of Martin’s Eldorado. A huge ball of yellow fire rolled into the air before it was swallowed up by a boiling cloud of whitish-gray smoke.
If any of the security guards had cried out, Martin hadn’t heard them. When he cautiously stood up he could see why. All that was left of the helicopter was its skids, and its controls, and the blackened framework of its seats. Its crew were still strapped in, but two of them were nothing more than legs and pelvises and ribcages, while another two were still intact, but with their clothes charred into flakes like burned newspaper and their face masks milky-opaque from the heat.
The security guards who had been standing beneath the helicopter had all been incinerated, too, and three of them were lying amongst the boulders, their arms bent in the monkey-like posture of all serious burns victims, their hair and their uniforms still smoking. There was no sign of the fourth guard, the one who been holding the bullhorn, although the bullhorn itself had been blown almost a hundred feet away, into the chaparral. The falling helicopter had probably landed right on top of him, and cremated him.
‘Mikey!’ wailed Santos, and came hurrying as fast as he could over the boulders. ‘Mina!’
Martin’s ears were still ringing from firing his sub-machine gun and the blast-pressure from the helicopter’s fuel tank blowing up. Saskia was only a few yards away, lying on her side with little Mina next to her, but before Martin stepped out of cover, he ejected the empty magazine from his Colt and clicked in a fresh one. Wherever they were, any remaining crew from the second helicopter must have heard the explosion, and it was possible that they might send more security guards down to the canyon to find out what had happened.
He went over and hunkered down next to Saskia and Mina. As he did so, Mina opened her eyes and sat up. Dazed, she slowly looked around at the bodies and the smoldering wreckage all around her, and then she burst out crying, with a high-pitched piping sound like a fledgling jay. Martin picked her up and held her close to him, and said, ‘Shush now, Mina. Everything’s OK now. Everything’s fine.’
Santos came hobbling over. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Let me have her. Come to grandpa, Mina. Come on.’ He took Mina in his arms and patted her on the back to comfort her, although his face was gray with shock.
‘How’s Mikey?’ asked Martin.
Santos gave him the smallest shake of his head. ‘See for yourself. They hit him in the chest.’
Martin looked over Santos’ shoulder to where Mikey was lying face-down among the rocks. The back of his T-shirt was glistening scarlet with arterial blood.
‘What kind of monsters can kill a child like that?’ said Santos, his voice trembling and his eyes flooded with tears. ‘At least you gave them what they deserved.’
Peta and Tyler were coming over to join them. They both looked as shocked as Santos. Peta was holding up her right hand to shield her face like a blinker, so that she wouldn’t have to look at all the charred and half-dismembered corpses.
‘Saskia—’ said Peta. ‘Is she dead?’
Martin bent over and looked at Saskia. Her eyes were closed and her face was smudged with soot from the helicopter blast. She was dressed all in black so it was difficult to see if she had been hit by any of the security guard’s bullets, so he carefully turned her over on to her side.
At that moment she opened her eyes and stared at him, looking just as bewildered as little Mina.
‘My God, Martin,’ she croaked. ‘What happened?’
Martin helped her to sit up. ‘Did they hit you?’ he asked her.
‘No, no, they didn’t,’ she said. She looked around her in disbelief. ‘My God. It blew up. My God. Just look at it. Those men, they’re all dead.’
‘You’re sure you’re not hurt?’
‘No, no, I’m not. As soon as they started shooting at me I hit the ground. Is Mina all right? Mina’s not hurt, is she? I couldn’t help dropping her.’
Santos was still patting Mina’s back. She had stopped crying now and was repeatedly sniffing. ‘Mina’s OK. It looks like she might have bumped her head, but at least she’s alive.’
Martin took Saskia’s hand and she climbed back on to her
feet. She brushed herself down and then she pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘I have such a splitting headache. My God.’
Tyler was standing over Mikey’s body, clutching himself as if he were cold. ‘What do we do now, Dad? We’re not going to try to go on, are we?’
‘I don’t think Saskia and I have a lot of choice,’ said Martin. ‘I don’t know how the rest of you feel. If you give up and go back to San Berdoo now, there still won’t be any water. One way or another, if we don’t keep going, I don’t think there’s much of a future for any of us.’
‘What are we going to do with Mikey?’ asked Tyler. Martin could see that Mikey’s shooting had badly affected him. Maybe he felt that he should have run out and caught him. He had failed to save Maria from being raped. Now he had failed to save Mikey.
Martin walked over and laid his hand on Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler’s mouth was puckered up with helplessness and grief.
‘Come on, Tyler. You can’t blame yourself. Most of the time in life you just have to stand back and admit to yourself that there’s nothing you can do.’
‘You always manage to do something. Look – you just blew up their helicopter and killed them all. What did I do? Nothing. I didn’t even shout at Mikey to come back.’
‘Tyler, you’re in shock. We all are. And for Christ’s sake don’t take me as some kind of example. Take it from me, you can’t solve all of life’s problems with a sub-machine gun.’
Just then, they heard the whistling sound of the second helicopter starting up. The roar of its engine grew louder and louder until it eventually appeared over the crest of the promontory. Shading his eyes, Martin could see that the pilot was alone in the cabin. He lifted up his Colt Commando to make sure that the pilot could see it.
Drought Page 24