The door opened and Donna came in. She stood for a second in the doorway. Surtsey swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Donna ran at her, grabbing her around the waist as the pair of them tumbled to the floor between the bed and the table. Surtsey had the air knocked out of her lungs, her chest crushed under Donna’s weight. She tried to prise Donna off but her arms were weak, so she heaved and rolled the pair of them together until Donna bumped against a table leg. She got an arm free and grabbed Donna’s hair, yanked it up and slammed her head against the floor, a spray of saliva from Donna’s mouth into Surtsey’s face. Donna surged upward, smashing her forehead into Surtsey’s teeth and nose, blood spurting from her face. Surtsey lifted a knee into Donna’s groin then threw a fist into her stomach and felt Donna’s arms release her grip. She threw another jab at her face, felt the bone in Donna’s cheek crack, or maybe it was the bone in her own hand. She scrambled upright using the table edge as leverage and stumbled towards the door.
‘Bitch,’ Donna said behind her.
Surtsey staggered to the door and grabbed the handle, using it to keep herself up. She glanced back and saw Donna getting up, spitting on the floor, holding her face.
She flung the door open and ran.
45
She thrust one foot in front of the other, putting everything she had into it, getting up speed, increasing the distance between her and the bothy. She heard the door slam behind her as she sprinted, lungs already burning, calves and thighs straining, arms pumping as she gulped for air.
She was heading downhill, the momentum throwing her towards the jetty. She had to keep her eyes on the ground over this terrain, rocky and jagged, holes everywhere, impossible to judge it well, clambering and clattering over patches of rubble and around boulders. She glanced at the jetty a hundred yards away but couldn’t see any boat. Maybe it was tied up round the other side.
She stumbled, lost her balance as a shower of scree slid beneath her foot. She put a hand out and scraped her palm on a jutting rock. She looked behind, her pulse raging, breath wheezing. Donna was coming after her, a hundred yards away, holding a hammer.
She started off again towards the jetty.
‘Please be there,’ she said between gasps of air. ‘Please.’
She leapt over more bulbous rocks and found a stretch of level land, sand in a wide crevice, and picked up speed as she approached the jetty. The sand under her feet was more reliable than rocks but it sapped the strength from her legs, pockets of deep stuff slowing her down.
Donna was still behind, grimace on her face, hammer clutched in her fist.
Surtsey had a few more yards in the deep sand then she was at the jetty. She pitched round the blind side and stared along its length.
No boat.
She looked at Donna, still a distance away, then out to sea. Maybe it was anchored further out. But why would Donna do that if she had to bring supplies ashore? Didn’t make sense. It had to be pulled up on the shore somewhere else. Maybe she didn’t want it at the jetty in case anyone saw.
Donna was gaining fast. Surtsey had to move. She had to find the boat, but which way? Up the coast towards the research site or double back to the right, around the hut to the cove where she’d found Tom?
Donna was almost on her. So close that Surtsey could hear her breathing.
She checked one more time along the length of the jetty then turned back.
Donna was smiling, thirty yards away.
The cove.
Surtsey began running but only got a few yards when the ground shook violently, throwing her forwards. She staggered on but another jolt made the earth come up to meet her feet before she expected, and she tipped onto her knees. Three more huge shudders threw her onto her back as the ground shifted and grumbled. Another earthquake. Much, much bigger than any of the previous ones. There was a massive bang and crack, a noise Surtsey had never heard before, that resonated through her body. She shuffled backwards and propped herself up on her elbows, looked back. Donna was lying on her stomach in the sand, looking around, holding onto the earth as if it was the last solid thing in the universe. But it wasn’t solid at all.
Beyond Donna’s prostrate body a cascade of rocks were tumbling down the hillside from higher up, heading east of them towards the cliffs. The noise of the boulders tumbling over each other was excruciating, she felt it in her gut and bowels. She looked further up the slope. Smoke was shooting out both volcanic vents, billowing clouds of it, as the earth continued to shake and judder, throwing her around.
Then a crack and a growl of pure power, something deep beneath them but all around them too. The saddle of land between the vents exploded into the air, huge plumes of debris flying into the blue sky, rock and dust and smoke. Through it all, Surtsey saw red.
Lava. The Inch was erupting.
‘Jesus Christ.’
Thin ash was already falling around them as the earth shook, a giant crack appearing from the remains of the western vent, spreading downhill like a lightning bolt, cutting solid rock and prising it apart, reaching its fingers down to the scientific hut which was torn in two like freshly-baked bread.
Crimson lava sprayed into the air high above the peaks, thicker rivers of the stuff leeching over the lips of the vents and slurping towards them.
Surtsey saw Donna lift her head and look behind. She turned back and they held each other’s gaze for a few seconds,
