She pulled away awkwardly and nodded at Roddy.
‘Better check on numb-gums,’ she said. ‘Make sure he hasn’t OD-ed.’
She knelt and took the wrist of his good arm, felt for his pulse. She nodded. ‘Still with us, but weak. We should think about a Plan B for getting rescued quicker.’
‘Like what?’
Molly shrugged again. ‘Maybe one of us could walk round the coast the other way, see what we can find.’
‘You think that’s a good idea?’
‘I really don’t know.’
‘Wait,’ said Adam. ‘You hear something?’
It was faint, but there was definitely a rattling chug in the air. As he strained to listen it got louder, the sound of a rough diesel engine clanking and rumbling away. It was coming from above, up on the road, although he couldn’t see anything from down here.
Molly ran over and threw some more petrol on the fire, standing back as flames and smoke whooshed into the sky. They both turned, looking desperately along the top of the cliff where the road ran, and screaming. They were shouting and hollering for all they were worth as the engine noise grew louder and louder, then suddenly they saw a rusting tractor pulling up to the edge above them.
They were still yelling and now jumping up and down, waving their arms frantically as an old woman climbed out of the cab and peered down at them. She waved and they waved back.
‘Are you all right?’ Her voice was faint, with a thick island accent.
‘We need help,’ shouted Molly.
‘Anyone injured?’
‘One of us,’ said Molly. ‘We’ve got one dead as well, and one… missing.’
She looked at Adam on that last word.
‘Heavens,’ said the woman. ‘Oh my goodness. Hang on, I’ll get help. Can you wait? I need to go back to the farm to phone the police. That’ll take half an hour, it’s the other side of the Oa.’
Molly laughed. ‘Half an hour is fine, thank you.’
‘Not at all, my dear,’ the woman said. ‘Just hang on, we’ll get you out of there in a jiffy.’
The woman disappeared into the tractor, which revved then crawled away. They listened as the engine noise receded, then looked at each other, grins breaking out on their faces. They quickly hugged each other, then separated clumsily.
‘Thank Christ,’ said Molly, smiling and shaking her head.
‘I know.’ Adam put his head in his hands. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘Come on,’ said Molly. ‘Let’s tell Roddy we’ve saved his miserable wee life.’
They trudged over and slumped to their knees next to him.
‘Roddy,’ said Adam, shaking him. ‘Come on, Roddy, wake up, we’re saved.’
Roddy didn’t move.
‘Come on, big guy,’ Adam whispered into his ear. ‘Wake up, it’s going to be OK.’
No response.
Adam put two fingers to Roddy’s wrist, waited a moment, then pressed the fingers into his neck.
‘I can’t find a pulse.’
‘What?’ said Molly.
Adam put an ear to Roddy’s mouth and a hand on his chest.
‘Is he breathing?’
Adam shrugged, then grabbed Roddy’s head and shook. ‘Roddy, fucking hell.’
A smile crept over Roddy face as he opened his eyes, taking a while to focus.
‘What are you cunts waking me up for?’ he whispered. ‘I was having a pretty sweet dream about an orgy.’
‘Never mind that shit,’ said Adam, breathing heavily. ‘We’ve been spotted. We’re going to be rescued. Some old dear is away to get help. The smoke signal worked.’
Roddy smiled weakly.
‘Now it’s going to get interesting,’ he said. ‘Pass me that fucking coke.’
36
Two hours later they were chugging along the coast in an RNLI lifeboat heading for Port Ellen. The old lady had phoned the police, a spotty young copper appearing after an hour, assessing the situation and realising he didn’t have any equipment to get them back up the cliff. He called the lifeboat, which had to come from Port Askaig on the other side of the island, so it was almost noon by the time they were lugging Roddy and Ethan onto stretchers and helping Adam and Molly on board, Molly briefly swapping relieved banter with a member of the crew she knew.
They were given hot drinks and blankets, one of the crew injecting Roddy with morphine, another covering Ethan’s body with a sheet, for all the good that would do. The sight of Ethan and Luke’s mangled faces would always live with Adam, always haunt him.
They quickly gave the bare bones of their story to one of the crew, who listened impassively then went to radio it in to the police, contacting the ambulance at the same time to let them know what was coming.
Adam sat sipping from his cup, warming his hands, blanket hugged to his body. He felt strangely in limbo. The ordeal was over, they were rescued, but there was no relief, no possibility to relax. He and Molly still had a shitload of explaining to do. Or did they? Had anyone found Joe and Grant’s bodies? And if they had, would the police suspect a connection?
He watched the coast drift by, rocky cliffs peppered with nests and populated by swooping seabirds. Just as well they hadn’t tried to walk this way, there didn’t seem to be any path along the coast in this direction. Then again, heading the other way had got them into the biggest heap of fucking trouble of their lives. Should’ve stayed put, done the smoke signal thing from the start, then Luke would still be alive. But would anyone have been around to see the smoke? Still, sitting there in the freezing cold for the night would’ve been better than what they’d gone through. Bloody hindsight. He was tearing himself up about it, unable to get the sight of Luke’s missing face out of his head, the sound and smell of the wound, the feel of the cold flesh against his. It was unbearable. But he had to keep it together for all their sakes.
‘You OK?’ said Molly.
He shook his head, then felt her hand on his wrist.
He turned and smiled at her, but it was a weak gesture, a positivity he didn’t feel, and it felt stupid and unconvincing on his face.
Molly looked past him.
‘Here we go,’ she said.
Adam turned to see the low whitewashed rows of Port Ellen.
‘Back to civilisation, eh?’ he said.
Molly laughed under her breath. ‘Don’t know if I’d call it that.’
The boat turned towards the gap in the harbour wall, and they sped through it, Adam spotting the B amp;B where they were all still checked in. Shit, he would have to take Ethan and Luke’s stuff away. How long would Roddy be in hospital? What if he needed treatment off the island? They didn’t even have a car now, how would they ever get away from here? Maybe the police wouldn’t let them get away.
He saw the ambulance waiting at the dockside, a single police car next to it. An old copper with a paunch stood drinking coffee and chatting to the ambulance driver and another man with a camera.
‘Eric,’ said Molly, pointing.
‘Yeah?’ said Adam. ‘Should we tell him what really happened?’
Molly frowned to herself for a few moments. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘I thought you said you trusted him.’
