the Scotch Malt Whisky Society in Leith with the others, single-cask Laphroaigs in hand, Islay map laid out in front of them, getting psyched about the trip. It was a different universe.
The sound of a shot startled him, and he pulled Roddy on.
‘Easy there, fuckface,’ said Roddy.
‘Shut up and run.’
‘I’d run better if you stopped fucking pulling me.’
‘Fine.’ Adam let go. ‘Suit yourself.’
He darted sideways and stumbled, lumbering forwards then pitching face first into the snow. He jumped back up and ran towards Roddy and Molly just ahead. Another shot rang out as the torch beam arced over them.
Joe couldn’t be that close behind or he would’ve hit one of them by now. All Adam could hear was the rush of adrenalin and blood in his ears and his wheezing breath as he reached the top of a rise and dived over the other side. He began sliding downwards in the snow, caught a jumbled glimpse of Molly and Roddy doing the same a few yards ahead. He was picking up speed and so were they, all three of them out of control in the deepening snowdrifts. His feet sank deep into the white, pitching him over onto his stomach, then tumbling onto his back, out of control, sending a spray of snow up into his face as he keeled over, his momentum driving him down the slope, further and further, no idea which way was up and which was down, whether he was falling to safety or over a cliff edge. He panicked as he tried to regain his footing, felt a sharp smack as his arse hit a rock, throwing him over again, a weight of snow thrust down on top of him as he slid backwards for a few more yards before thumping into something soft.
‘Fuck.’
It was Roddy beneath him, Molly a couple of yards to the side. Adam rolled over and looked back up the slope.
A blaze of burning light exploded into the air, making him flinch and close his eyes. He shook his head and opened them again. The snow all around was bathed in luminous violet light, giving everything an eerie, nightmarish look. Standing at the top of the hill was Joe holding a huge flare spewing out smoke and light. In his other hand was a gun. He was scanning the whiteout, looking in the other direction, so he hadn’t yet spotted them half buried under a mini-avalanche.
‘Fuck,’ said Roddy as Joe turned towards them.
Adam looked beyond Roddy. In the distance he could see the American Monument, its lighthouse shape penetrating the purple edge of sky. Between here and there was an oddly flat expanse, the white sheen covered in thousands of small dark shapes.
‘What the hell is that?’ said Adam.
Joe’s gaze finally rested on the three of them, far enough away that they were still a tricky shot from the top of the hill.
Molly got up and started running. ‘Our salvation,’ she said over her shoulder, as Adam and Roddy picked themselves up and pitched after her.
26
Adam only realised it was a frozen loch when he slipped and landed on his arse. They were running on ice. Roddy let out a derisive snort somewhere behind him.
‘Come on, clumsy-arse,’ Roddy said, jogging past him.
Adam looked back. Joe was tripping and sliding down the hill in a flurry of snow, the flare held high, casting a surreal indigo sheen over the land like some strange alien visitation.
Molly was up ahead, running at the thousands of dark shapes scattered across the middle of the ice. As she got closer, she began waving her arms frantically over her head, whooping and shrieking for all she was worth.
‘What the hell is she doing?’ said Adam.
‘Fuck knows.’
They hurried forward, gaining on her, and just as they were getting close, the dark shapes began moving, rising up into the sky above, then suddenly they were all around them in a cacophony of hooting and hissing and flapping.
‘Fucking geese!’ shouted Roddy.
They covered their heads as they sprinted on, thousands of newly woken geese causing chaos in the air and on the ground. The birds were swooping and swerving, soaring and diving over and beyond them as they caught up with Molly and joined her in scaring more birds into the already crowded air.
Adam looked back and couldn’t see Joe amongst all the mayhem. If they couldn’t see Joe, Joe couldn’t see them, right? Under the cover of the geese’s frenzied activity, Molly shouted to them.
‘That way.’ She pointed to their left. ‘I’m pretty sure the farmhouse is just beyond that ridge.’
They started into a crouching run, occasionally ducking as a bird got close with its beak or wings, Adam glancing round to see where Joe was. The purple light was in the centre of the loch now, surrounded by thousands of squawking geese, angry at being woken up. They were making hysterical shapes in the sky, racing panic-stricken up and down, skidding on the ice and stumbling over each other. Adam ran faster, spurred on by the sight of Joe stuck in the chaos.
Near the edge of the loch, Adam felt the ice give way underneath him. An almighty creak, then the ice split in two, white sliced by spreading black, and Adam found himself running on nothing for an instant before slumping into freezing water, the chill of it shocking the breath out of his body as he scrambled and clawed at shifting chunks of ice for purchase.
Molly and Roddy had already disappeared into the darkness ahead. They hadn’t seen him go through the ice. His head ducked under the surface. The cold of the water stung his face like pins. He thrashed his arms and legs and his head bobbed above the surface for a moment, but his lungs refused to work, and he sank back under, getting a mouthful of icy water as he went.
It felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, his ears full of raging noise as his arms and legs flailed again. His body shook with cold, he was losing feeling in his hands and feet. He made a supreme effort to get his head above water. Through the water streaming down his face he thought he saw a hand and made a lunge for it, missing as his body bobbed and pitched. He was sucked under again, panicking. He made a final, huge effort to push himself upwards, legs and arms aching. He scrabbled frantically for the hand. Just as he was sinking again, he felt his hand clutched by grasping fingers and held on for his life.
He felt the hand move, pulling him up and out of the water. As he scrambled forward he saw it was Molly holding him, grim determination on her face as she lay on the ice. Roddy lay behind her, holding her legs with his good arm.
Adam felt solid ice under his chest now and kicked his legs, squirming violently, flapping his way out of the water. He felt his waist snag on a jagged crust of ice and wriggled free, swinging a leg over onto more solid stuff. His other leg followed and he lay for a moment gasping and coughing, his body shaking violently from the cold, shock and adrenalin.
Molly shuffled backwards across the ice on hands and knees like a commando, dragging him as she went. He tried to get onto his feet.
‘No, stay flat out,’ she said. ‘Spread your weight.’
He moved with her for thirty yards then they rose to their knees, then their feet, Roddy joining them. They were at the edge of the loch now, running through frozen reeds which whipped and cut them as they tumbled forwards.
Adam glanced behind. The light from the flare was fading, but in the violet gloom it looked as if the geese had settled again, only a few still flying, the rest back on the ice honking unhappily. As he watched there was another blinding flash of purple light — a new flare. Shit, Joe probably had a whole belt full of the fucking things. This was never going to end, was it?
‘Do you think he knows which way we went?’ Adam said, breathless and shivering.
‘What, you mean apart from the tracks in the snow and the big fucking hole you left in the ice?’ said Roddy.
