And part of her saw the sudden reappearance of Eric and Sammy – people who were part of a life she’d let go of – as a sign, a result of her blocking out her compulsions. She knew it was illogical. But there was a difference between knowing something to be true and believing it.
As soon as the irrational thought came to her, Emma knew she’d made her mind up. Whether the consequences were real or imagined, she had to get away from these people as soon as possible. She couldn’t get tied up in this. It wasn’t her battle to fight. The longer she and Leena were separated, the more likely it felt to Emma that she would never reunite with her sister.
With a glance at the wing mirror, Mark pulled the van into the wide packed-dirt driveway of an unfinished development of six houses arrayed in a semi-circle.
We’re stopping, Emma realised with relief. Maybe there would be a chance for her to get away from these men if she could get back on her feet.
Mark parked the van horizontally at the end of the driveway in front of the two semi-detached houses that faced the entrance to the building site. The windows and doors of the houses hadn’t been fitted and the interiors were dark against the day, forbidding.
Opening the glove box, Mark took out a small handheld radio. Then he got out of the vehicle.
Two rapt knocks on the side of the van – Mark summoning John from the back. Emma watched as he stared at the empty, newly constructed houses around him, before lifting the radio to his mouth and speaking into it.
*
Stranded on the scaffolding, Eric thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he heard a muffled voice coming from the duffel bag.
“If you’re hearing this,” the voice said, “which you should be – I saw the other radio in the bag you were carrying – respond immediately.”
That’s where the second radio is, Eric realised, recognising the voice as Mark’s. He reached into the duffel to retrieve the handheld radio set with its two charging docks, one of them empty.
“If you’re ignoring me, know that I’m about to tell you something important that will happen in one hour. Whether you respond to me or not, it doesn’t change what has to be done.”
Eric keyed the mic and spoke into the radio. “Mark, this is Eric. We hear you.”
“Good… Listen carefully: we’re parked on a building site. Greenwood Crescent – there’s a sign by the entrance. You know where that is?”
“Yes.” Eric had actually worked on that site. A small plot with a wide driveway, six semi-detached houses in a crescent shape at the end, hence the name. The construction company he worked for had taken the job on.
“Perfect. I’m holding a knife to your friend’s neck as we speak. So listen: you have one hour, starting from now, to get your arses down here and hand over the weapons, supplies and everything you took from the flat. And that includes the crossbow. If you fail to do this, she dies.”
Eric sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s going to be an issue for us, Mark. We’re trapped on some scaffolding with over twenty snappers below us. They’re surrounding the ladder, and there aren’t any windows we can climb through to get down some other way. We’re stranded here, Mark.”
“That doesn’t sound like my problem,” Mark replied in an indifferent tone that warred with a subtle fervent quiver in his voice. The man sounded tired, composed and vindictive all at the same time.
“It is your problem because it means we can’t get there in one hour. And we don’t have the crossbow. The other guy who was with us has it, but he went to search for someone on his own and I don’t know where he is.”
“Then your friend dies. I won’t lose sleep over it.”
“No… I can assure you you’ll be sleeping for a long fucking time when I get my hands on you.” Eric could no longer keep the hatred from his voice, his knuckles going white as he squeezed the radio, picturing his fingers locked around Mark’s neck.
“The hour is ticking away,” was all Mark said in response.
The radio went silent. Their conversation was over.
5.
“I think some of them have left,” Rebecca murmured, craning over the edge of the platform to count the snappers below. Then she turned to Kara and Eric. “If we sit back from the edge and keep quiet, maybe they’ll all wander away.”
Kara shook her head.
“I already thought about that,” she said. “It could take hours for them to lose interest and we don’t have hours. We can’t afford to waste time.”
Rebecca huffed in dismay, then sat down and crossed her legs. Her hands ran through her short hair, combing it back repeatedly – a stressed tic of hers, Eric observed. Kara crouched next to her friend and rubbed her back, attune to her despair.
“Keep your cool,” Kara said. “We’ll find another way.”
“This is hopeless. Are we really fooling ourselves into thinking we have a chance at saving Sammy? You do realise Mark’s just going to kill her anyway once we give him what he wants, right?”
“I don’t intend to give him what he wants,” Eric said. “I’m not gonna play by his rules.”
“Then don’t go to Greenwood Crescent. How are you hoping to save her? You might think you’re some kind of hero, but you almost got us killed on the bus, and this situation is out of your control.”
“I am not about to give up on my friend.”
“Well, she already gave up on you,” Rebecca said. “She gave up on us the moment she left. We should just find another car, drive away and never look back.”
“I won’t waste any more time arguing with you. Unless you have something
