“Gonna fucking kill you, kill you!” he shouted as he clawed at me and knocked me down off my feet. Then he was on top of me, his big heavy hands searching again for my throat. I still had the rock. I braced myself, gasping for a full breath as his hands began to squeeze the air from my battered lungs. I swung hard from the side, striking between his face and ear. His grip lessened. I swung again, rotating myself till I was almost above him and caved it down of top of his head.
Then again, again.
His eyes rolled in his head and more blood tricked into them from his wounds. Then his arms fell to his sides, limp. I took my time, balanced on my knees and held the rock above me with both hands. Then I smashed it once more, down into his face.
34
I lay on my back panting. I had rolled over and just lay there, sprawled out. I was done.
What had I done?
There had been no choice. And now maybe I wouldn’t have to die. I wanted it to be okay, I wanted to live! And maybe things would be okay.
Carlos!
I jolted myself upright.
Where was he? Had he heard anything?
I wrestled myself to my feet as sprightly as I could.
What should I do?
I looked around, considering my options.
Sammy was a mess, I shuddered. I had a last glance at him before walking across to the cliff edge. Looking downwards, I couldn’t clearly make Danny out. There was a crumpled shape somewhere down there. I supposed that was him. At a few points on the way down there were torn off scraps of clothing too.
And blood.
Lots of blood.
Okay.
I rushed back to the path, knelt down and listened. I couldn’t hear anything beyond a gentle breeze wheezing around the mountains and volcanoes. There was just dead air. No distant noises, just nothing. Aside from the obvious, this would have already been an ominous and terrifying place at night. I squinted up my eyes and tried to look ahead into the darkness below. I couldn’t see anything. I offered myself a manic shrug, thrilled to be alive. What did I have to lose? Everything was to be gained. I started to make my descent.
I kept low, moving quickly down the incline, skidding and sliding over the black-orange floor. I cursed myself as my scrambling along felt far too noisy.
Make a plan.
What are you going to do?
My plan went as far as this: try and avoid Carlos, steal one of their cars and get the fuck out of there.
As I was approaching the passageway between two high ridges of cooled lava, I was sure I spotted something further down. I hunkered down quickly, straining my eyes to focus on the horizon. There was definitely movement. Someone was coming this way. A few seconds later and I could tell it was definitely Carlos.
Shit.
He would see me if I stayed where I was.
Fuck.
I felt like pulling my hands over my face – hoping if I couldn’t see him, then maybe he wouldn’t see me either. I recalled my first visit to The Grand Opera House in Belfast. It’s a huge, ornate and intimidating building to a child. We were there to see the panto at Christmas time when I was quite young. My Mum didn’t come – she was alive at the time, but was probably recovering in bed from a hangover. I can still remember the witch coming onto the stage in their version of Hansel and Gretel. I was absolutely petrified. I nuzzled into my Dad. He patted my arm, though I remember him gently pushing me back into my seat, not wanting me to make a scene. Then I had put my hands over my eyes.
I looked up at both walls of rock either side. I weighed it up. The one on the left looked to be better – not as sheer, with more lumps jutting out. I hadn’t time to think about it twice. I moved quickly, launching myself at it. I haphazardly ascended the rock face, desperate to make it up as quickly as I could. I made it up the few metres. When I reached the top I hit the dirt, keeping my head down close to the edge. Carlos was still a fair way off. I eased my breathing, there was no sign that Carlos had seen me. As he approached, I could see that he was walking swiftly, keen to get back as planned. He’d get a fucking shock when he made it up there. I would need to get away quick. As he came closer, I pressed my head down on the rough ground, keeping all of my body flat. I could see nothing but the jutting, orange tinged black of the rock in front of my eyes. Seconds later and I could hear his shoes, scraping along the road, at a steady pace. I tensed every part of me. As he passed below me, I held my breath and pressed my cheek harder against the jagged rock. Then the footsteps moved further away. I breathed in deeply, my lungs aching. I fought to stifle a cough and forced it back down my ragged throat. I chanced raising my head and saw him walking up the last of the path towards where I had left Sammy. I didn’t have long. I flung myself back over the rock face, legs dangling, before scrambling down. Then I was running along the road. I concentrated my entire being on that sprint. I needed every last drop of energy I had.
Around maybe a minute into my run, my body felt shattered, cracking all over, but I had another concern. I could hear two
