27
‘There.’
Molly pointed. The blanket of cloud overhead had broken into clumsy chunks of grey, moonlight coming and going, illuminating a dark geometric shape against the snowy curves of the land. The farmhouse. No lights on, but then it was the middle of the night. Adam looked at his broken watch without thinking, and saw that his hands were shaking. He tried to stop them.
‘Is that your teeth chattering?’ said Roddy.
Only now that he mentioned it did Adam realise it was. He felt convulsions jerking into life across his body.
Molly’s face was pinched with concern. ‘We need to get you out of those clothes.’
She looked back the way they’d come. No purple flare, no sign of Joe. Everything seemed deathly quiet after the madness of the geese on the ice. She turned to look at the farmhouse.
‘Hopefully we’ll be able to get dry clothes at the house.’
They reached the front gate in a few minutes, staggering up the path, banging on the door and shouting.
‘Hello? Anyone there? We need help.’
There were no vehicles visible, no lights on, no signs of life.
Roddy kept banging on the door with his good hand as Molly went round the back. Adam watched the way they’d come for any sign of Joe, but was unable to concentrate, his body feeling like electric currents were being passed through it, jerking and locking, his muscles burning, his lungs suddenly shallow.
‘Fucking hell,’ said Roddy. ‘There’s no cunt here.’
They heard glass smash from the other side of the house.
‘Molly?’ said Adam, stuttering the word out.
They stood there listening, not knowing what to do. A minute later the door opened and Molly stood there shaking her head.
‘Nobody home. Doesn’t look like it’s been occupied for the winter. The phone line’s dead as well. Either they didn’t pay the bill or the snow’s taken the lines down.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Roddy.
Molly guided the shivering Adam through the door into the hall, Roddy following behind, shaking his head. Molly turned to him, pointing at Adam.
‘Help him get his clothes off.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘All of them?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s going to die otherwise.’
She looked around, began opening doors, found a linen closet. She pulled out two large towels and handed them to Roddy.
‘Then dry him off.’
‘No fucking way.’
Molly rolled her eyes upwards. ‘Just do it.’
‘You do it, I’m not touching his naked body.’
‘You’re pathetic,’ said Molly. ‘You really are.’
‘J-J-Just n-do it,’ said Adam, fumbling at his sleeve with trembling fingers.
Molly was already down the corridor. ‘I’ll find some new clothes for him.’
Roddy sighed and approached Adam, moving his shaking fingers aside. ‘Out the way, you handless fuck, let me do it.’
It was slow going with one good arm, peeling off the frozen clothes and dumping them on the ground. Roddy grimaced as he rubbed Adam’s arms, legs and torso with one towel, Adam trying to dry himself with the other one. By the time they’d finished his shaking had eased off, just little tremors rippling through his jaw and chest. Adam wrapped both towels around him and stared at his pale, exposed legs.
‘Looking good,’ said Roddy, as Molly appeared with an armful of clothes.
‘Shut up, Roddy,’ said Molly as she started helping him on with jeans, socks, shoes, T-shirt, two jumpers and a fleece. Everything was a bit big for him, but not too bad. When they’d finished, Adam picked up the torch he’d placed on the ground and put it in the fleece pocket.
‘You look ridiculous,’ said Roddy.
‘You’re not helping,’ said Molly. ‘I’m trying to keep him alive and get us out of this shit.’
Roddy looked at her. ‘So you should, it’s your ex-husband who’s trying to fucking kill us.’
Molly stared at him. ‘You think I don’t know that?’
‘Didn’t you have any inkling he was a psychopath when you said “I do”?’
‘Shut up, Roddy,’ said Adam.
Molly had her hands on her hips. ‘So you’re saying it’s my fault Joe’s after us?’
‘Who else’s fault is it?’ said Roddy.
‘That’s bullshit,’ said Adam. ‘With or without Molly, he wouldn’t have let us go once we’d seen the still operation.’
‘We don’t know that,’ said Roddy.
Adam lunged at Roddy’s injured shoulder.
‘Ow, fucking hell,’ said Roddy, buckling.
‘Take it easy, Adam,’ said Molly.
Adam turned to her. ‘You’ve got nothing to feel bad about. Jesus, you’ve already saved our lives at least twice.’
Silence for a moment, a strip of silky moonlight stretching across the hall from the open doorway.
‘You all right?’ Molly said to Roddy.
Roddy glared at the pair of them and let out a laugh more like a gasp. ‘You mean apart from the large wound and heavy blood loss?’ He coughed a dirty, ragged cough. ‘And this cunt attacking me? Fine, thanks.’
‘Sorry,’ said Adam. ‘But you were out of order.’
‘Fuck you.’
In the moonlight Adam could see Roddy was sweating heavily. He looked like a ghost.
‘So what do we do now?’ said Adam, his shivers receding further.
‘Are you OK?’ said Molly.
Adam nodded. ‘Feeling a lot better now, thanks for that.’
Roddy snorted. ‘When you’re quite finished sticking your tongue up her ass, can someone please tell me what we’re going to do now?’
‘You’re going to die.’
The voice from the doorway made them all jump.
Joe was silhouetted against the moonlight, pistol in hand. He was sweating and breathless, but smiling widely.
‘Fuck,’ said Roddy.
Joe laughed. ‘Thought you had me with that goose thing, eh? Hey, I just realised, that was literally a wild goose chase, wasn’t it?’
They stood motionless. Adam had his hands in his fleece pockets, his fingers gripping the handle of the torch. Joe was still getting his breath back, so Adam took a chance. He jerked the torch out of his pocket, switching it on in the process, and hurled it at Joe’s head, the beam of light slicing through the air as it span. Joe ducked instinctively as the torch came towards him, giving them a moment of distraction.
