Something he and everyone else was missing.

Thirty-seven

Today 19.48

JESS FELT SICK. She’d lost Casey. She’d lost her little sister – the last member of her family still alive – and now Casey was somewhere in this endless forest, alone and terrified. What if she’d been caught by one of the gunmen? Worse, what if they’d killed her? Oh Jesus, she couldn’t even bear to imagine that. It would finish her if anything happened to Casey. Finish her just the same as if someone put a gun to her own head and pulled the trigger.

And yet here she was, sprinting further and further away from where she’d last seen her sister, the bloodied kitchen knife in one hand, the mobile phone she’d just been given in the other, as she tried to reach the road and a place where she could get reception and call the police before the other gunmen caught up with her. She prayed that the man who’d come to her rescue a few minutes earlier would find Casey, like he promised he would. She wondered who the hell he was. He’d looked like a nice guy, good-looking in a rugged yet friendly way; the type of man you could rely on in times of trouble. And, by God, she was relying on him now.

She couldn’t feel any pain in her arm where the dog had bitten her, even though the skin was all bloody and mangled, but her lungs felt as if they were going to burst and she wondered how much further the main road was. She was running parallel to the path that the stranger had told her to take, keeping well within the tree line. It was a good few minutes since she’d heard the last shot ring out, and it had been some distance away. The stranger had said he was going to try to lure the gunmen away from her, and she guessed that he’d been successful. At least she hoped so, since she had absolutely no way of knowing for sure.

Have faith, she told herself. Have faith. Casey will be all right. You’ll be all right. You have to believe this.

She slowed up a little, conscious of the noise of her panting, and risked a look over her shoulder into the gloom of the forest. There was nothing there. Relieved, she stopped for a few moments and bent down with her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back.

And that was when she heard the noise coming from directly behind her.

Jess felt her heart leap and she swung round fast, clutching the kitchen knife tight in her hand, ready to lash out.

‘It’s me,’ hissed Amanda, jumping backwards and almost falling over in the process. She too was holding a knife she’d left the house with.

For a long moment Jess just stared at her. To her surprise, she wasn’t relieved to see her at all. In fact, it annoyed her that, after all that had happened, Amanda hardly looked to have broken a sweat. Even her hair, wet and bedraggled a couple of hours earlier, seemed to have bounced back to life. ‘Jesus, what do you think you’re doing?’ she said at last, making no move to lower the knife. ‘You scared the shit out of me. I could have stabbed you.’

Amanda eyed the bloodstained blade. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you but I heard running and I hid behind a tree just in case it was one of them. When I saw it was you, I came out. I was just about to say something when you turned round.’ She looked at Jess’s bleeding arm. ‘I didn’t mean to leave you. I’m sorry.’

‘Forget it, I’d have done the same,’ said Jess, although she wasn’t sure she would have done.

‘What happened to the dogs?’

‘I stabbed one. The other had hold of me –’ she motioned to her arm which was now suddenly beginning to hurt like hell – ‘but then this guy appeared out of nowhere with a gun and shot it.’ She paused, still panting. ‘I thought he was going to shoot me too, but he helped me escape and even gave me his mobile phone.’

Amanda looked puzzled. ‘Do you think he was police?’

‘I don’t know, but he was on his own. He’s gone back to look for Casey.’

‘He’ll find her, I’m sure.’

Jess glared at her. ‘How do you know he’ll find her? She could be dead already.’

‘They wouldn’t kill her.’

‘You said you didn’t even know who these people are, so how can you be so sure?’

‘There’s no reason for them to hurt her. She’s nothing to do with any of this.’

‘She’s a witness to the killings,’ said Jess.

Amanda looked hurt. ‘God, I’m sorry for what’s happened,’ she said quietly, putting a hand on Jess’s good arm and moving in close, as if she was going to give her a hug.

But Jess didn’t want any sympathy from this woman with her nice hair and educated accent. She just wanted Casey to be okay. She pulled away roughly as Amanda tried to embrace her, her face coming way too close, and took a step backwards. ‘We need to keep moving,’ she said. ‘They won’t be far behind us. As soon as I get reception, I’ll call the police.’

Amanda stared at her for a long moment, and there was something in her expression that Jess didn’t like.

Then, knowing that every second they delayed put them in more danger, Jess turned and ran into the trees, checking the phone in vain for some reception, all her thoughts still dominated by one person, and one person only.

Casey.

Casey lay still on the cold ground, not daring to move in case she disturbed all the dead leaves around her. Her head ached from where she’d hit the branch, and already a big, swelling bruise was sticking out. She didn’t care about that, though. It wasn’t even making her cry. In fact, she was making no sound at all, because the horrible thin man who looked like a zombie and kept clearing his throat, was standing just a few yards away. Only a thick tangled bramble bush kept Casey hidden from him. All he had to do was walk a couple of steps this way and look down and he’d see her.

He was leaning against a tree and smoking a cigarette, and he’d been there for what seemed like ages. He was dressed all in black and he was holding a very big gun down by his side, and he looked really angry. Casey was so scared and so cold that she had to really concentrate to stop herself from shaking. In her head, she kept praying to God, asking him to make the thin man go away. Jess had told her after Mum had died that there was no God, but Casey didn’t believe her. Of course there was a God. Who else made everything? Someone had to have done it to begin with. But she had to admit God wasn’t very nice sometimes. He’d killed Dad and he’d killed Mum, and now he’d sent these horrible men out here to kill Uncle Tim and Auntie Jean, and now maybe even her and Jess.

But still she kept praying in her head, knowing that she just had to keep quiet for a little bit longer and it would all be all right. The horrible man looked as though he was bored of searching for her now. Soon he’d go away, then she’d keep running until she found the edge of the wood. It had to end somewhere. She’d never before been in a wood this huge and empty with no people around anywhere. All of Scotland seemed to be like that, just miles of empty space, and though she liked her new home, and the kids at her new school who’d all been really nice to her, she missed the noise and bustle of London.

But of course she might be going back there, now that Uncle Tim and Auntie Jean were . . . She couldn’t say it. Even to herself. Her face crumpled as she thought of them then and she almost started to cry. She’d really liked Uncle Tim and Auntie Jean. She’d miss the stories her uncle used to tell her at night of the places he’d seen in the world when he’d been in the Merchant Navy and the people he’d met. She’d miss the way Auntie Jean would hug her really, really close and stroke her hair, and tell her what a beautiful girl she was . . .

She scrunched up her eyes and forced back the tears. She was a big girl now. She had to be brave.

The horrible man dropped his cigarette on the ground and stamped on it, all the time looking round with his big nose in the air, as if he was trying to smell her out.