Broken Arrow

He'd wiped the tears away, but not before Sophie saw them. She reached across and put a hand on his forearm. 'We have to go, Mark.'

'Just a couple more minutes.'

'Jack's resourceful. He'll find a way to get out, to meet up with us. He wouldn't want us to get captured. Would he, Reverend?'

Tate said nothing, but Mark knew she was right. They should get away, wait for Jack at the rendezvous point.

They had to head for Sherwood.

Mark's driving left something to be desired — having only been behind the wheel a few times before. He'd been too young to drive pre-virus, and Robert and his men went everywhere on horseback. Luckily, Bill had given him a few lessons before leaving. 'Never know when it's goin' to come in handy,' he'd said, tapping his nose.

Mark hadn't thought about Bill in months, and it was strange that he should do so now. Because, as they pulled in to the car park at Sherwood Forest, who should they see but the man himself, standing next to his helicopter, holding his shotgun as if he'd never been away. He was pointing it at their vehicle, squinting as he tried to make out who was inside.

For a second Mark thought he was actually going to shoot, so he stuck a hand out of the window. Bill kept his gun raised, but when Mark braked and shoved his head out, he smiled, lowering the weapon.

Mark hopped out and ran towards him. 'Bill? Is it really you?'

'Aye.'

They gave each other a hug as Sophie helped Tate out of the jeep. When the pair came over, Bill greeted them both. 'How do?'

'What are you doing at Sherwood?' Mark asked him.

'Long story. Yerself?'

Like Bill, Mark didn't know where to start. He told him about the attack on the castle, and how they'd only managed to get out by the skin of their teeth. They were still hoping that Jack would make it, with Gwen and Adele.

'Well I'll be,' said Bill when he'd finished. 'It's a good job I didn't take him there then.'

'Who?' asked Mark.

'Listen, I'm not goin' to lie to you. The bloke's in a pretty bad way, Mark.'

'Who? Who's in a bad way?'

'Robert.'

'You're here with Robert?' Tate rubbed his head. 'I don't understand.'

'Makes four of us, then, I reckon,' Bill said. Then he went on to explain how he'd found Robert after the battle, badly injured and not making much sense. 'Just kept on insisting we come 'ere.'

'Where were the rest of the men?' asked Sophie, and Mark knew by that she probably meant Dale. 'They weren't…?'

'Reckon you lost a fair few — bloody insanity goin' up against them things in the first place.' He scratched his stubbled chin. 'Tho' I will say this much, you lot gave them Russkies a good hidin'. Not sure what happened to the rest. Like I say, Rob wasn't makin' much sense by the time I showed up.'

'How long's he been in there?' asked Tate.

'Good few hours. Wanted to fly 'im back to Mary, but… Do y'think she'll get out with Jack, then?'

Marked opened his mouth, then closed it again. He shook his head.

'What? Is the lass all right?'

Sophie suddenly burst into tears, and turned to Mark, pressing her face into his shoulder. Mark hesitated, then wrapped a comforting arm around her. He was having trouble holding back the tears himself. 'Bill, we think Mary might be…'

'What?'

'I was the last one to see her. She was… crushed in a cave-in. Happened when The Tsar attacked. I think we've…' Mark sniffed. 'I think we've lost her.'

'Judas…'

'No,' said a voice, so quietly it might have drifted in on the wind. The three of them turned, Bill automatically raising his gun.

There, in front of them, was Robert. Or rather, The Hooded Man: features still obscured by the cowl he wore. He was standing straight, in spite of the bandage on his leg, and when he took another step towards them he was hobbling. But this was nothing like the figure Bill had described.

'Robert?' gasped Mark. He'd come up on them so silently, he'd made all of them start. But then, he was good at that; self-trained in this very place.

'No,' Robert continued in those hushed tones, ignoring everything but what had been said about Mary. 'She can't be.'

Bill was staring at Robert in disbelief. Slowly his gun dropped again, but he didn't say anything.

Mark nodded. 'I think so. I'm really sorry. Everything happened too fast for me to…' He saw Robert's body stiffen, his back straighten. Then he saw the man's fists clench.

'We have to prepare ourselves,' Robert said, his voice strong and sure.

'For what?' Tate asked, but didn't get a reply. Robert had already turned and was walking back towards the visitor's centre. He knew what was about to happen, of that Mark was certain — just as certain as he was that the forest had somehow healed Robert (though later Bill would argue that maybe he'd looked worse than he actually was). The forest had shown Robert what would happen, or at least what might happen without their intervention.

Mark looked at Sophie, then at Tate and Bill. Their confused faces said it all, but he knew exactly what had to be done.

They'd follow Robert, just like always.

So, as the sky began to grow dark and as a light mist started to roll in from the surrounding fields, they did just that.

Followed the lonely figure into Sherwood.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Sherwood Forest.

It was the most obvious choice, after all. Deep down Adele knew that's where they would go, because she'd followed them there once before. She knew that's where Robert belonged — if he was still alive (no-one seemed to be able to confirm it either way). So it was where Mark, Tate and Sophie would go, too.

They hadn't really needed the torture session with Jack at all: conducted in the smithy, in one of the archways adjoining the stables..

But it had been fun.

Adele — the… what was it Jack had called her just before his interrogation? Oh yes, the femme fatale. The pain Jack had experienced at the hands of this master craftsman, this artiste, had sent tingles through her entire body. He hadn't had time to do a complete number on the man, because The Tsar was demanding results, but it had been enough.

In lieu of his usual equipment, Tanek had made full use of the now dead blacksmith's furnace (after all, he wouldn't be needing it, now he was over in the corner riddled with bullets): the tongs, the poker, the red-hot coals spitting in that square metal tray with open sides, the kind they used in the old Hood's day. He hadn't even asked any questions to begin with, just inflicted his agonies on Jack — the screams of the big man so piercing they could be heard throughout the grounds.

Tied to a chair, and naked apart from a pair of boxers, Jack had looked up at Adele and the sense of betrayal on his slick face was incredible. It was like a physical thing, all adding to the torment the ex-wrestler was enduring. Adele knew that he had been starting to fall in love with her, in spite of everything she'd done to show her