She knew they were right.
But that night she barely slept. The excitement and anticipation of finally being reunited with Neil was almost more than she could bear. Even worse than that was the cold fear that kept nagging from deep inside that he might not be there, that he might have given up waiting after so much time had passed, or that he might be injured or dead, or worse. Whatever had happened to him over the last couple of weeks, tomorrow, she was going to find out.
She was up at dawn, pale and exhausted with dark circles under bloodshot eyes. She made some coffee and took a cup up to James, who was on last watch on the roof. She sat down beside him, and they sipped their drinks in silence as they gazed down the misty waterway ahead.
A bleary-eyed Anita stuck her tousled head out of the bow doors below them.
"Come on, guys! This is it! Let's get going!"
They decided to forego their usual leisurely breakfast, instead wolfing down some instant porridge, sweetened with Nutella and cooled with evaporated milk.
They were on the move within half an hour of waking.
The final stretch of the canal was dark and shady, its steep banks rising almost vertically on either side. This morning, the silence felt more ominous than comforting. Every rustling leaf or cracking branch took on a sinister tone. They were all tense and jumpy. Lisa was taut and silent, her knuckles white as she gripped the tiller. Even James understood the significance of the day which was, for his two companions, the culmination of two weeks of intense struggle and gritty determination. Everything hinged on what happened in the next few hours.
Anita was almost as anxious as Lisa. She knew the implications of Neil not being there alive and well. It was this belief that had given Lisa all her strength and drive throughout their journey. She dreaded to think how she would deal with it if he wasn't there.
They'd been travelling for almost an hour when they approached the moorings that Lisa knew as Lady Lane Wharf, the last settlement before Attwood Common. There was a little boating club there, that served a decent Sunday lunch and held occasional social events like beer and skittles or karaoke nights. There were always at least 20 or 30 boats moored there, along the side of the towpath. Most were permanent fixtures, ranging from the pristine, with neat little garden areas, sheds and washing lines on the bank, to the completely derelict, with rusting bicycles on their roofs, windows obscured by years of dirt and hulls dark with slime.
As they approached the last bridge before the wharf, Lisa noticed something hanging from the top. As they got closer, she could see that a large flag was draped across the side of the bridge. In the distance, she could hear the rhythmic, heavy thump of a bass guitar. Suddenly alarmed, but not entirely sure why, she cut the engine and allowed the boat to drift silently forward.
At the bow, James and Anita stood up, instantly tense and alert. As they stared straight ahead, James slipped his hand protectively on the small of Anita's back, and for a moment Lisa was overwhelmed with a longing to feel Neil's hand on her in the same way
She remembered the first time he had done that. They'd been on their first official date, in a noisy, crowded bar in Birmingham. It had been hard to talk, and after one drink, they'd decided to leave for somewhere quieter. As they were leaving, moving through the crowd, he had put his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her towards the door. It had been completely natural; she was not even sure he was aware he was doing it. For her, it was all she knew in that moment. All her senses focused on that spot where she could feel his hand on her body. The room seemed to quieten, and her eyes lost their focus. She wanted that moment to last forever, and when he removed his hand as they emerged from the pub into the busy street, she could still feel a warm pressure where it had been. She had known in that instant that she would love him.
As they got closer, she could see that the flag was black, with the profile of a skull wearing a gold-crested helmet. It was vaguely familiar, but she didn't know what it meant. James suddenly hopped onto the roof and sprinted back to the stern. Anita glanced back towards them but kept her focus on the route ahead.
"It's the Hells Angels' flag," James panted. "I've seen it before."
"And …?" Lisa raised her eyebrows.
She'd come across a few members of the Hells Angels and other biking fraternities in the past, and they'd always been perfectly charming despite their intimidating reputation. She opened her mouth to say more, but before they had time to debate the demonisation of the Hells Angels, two men in dark leathers appeared on the bridge above. Although the sun behind them made it difficult to see more than just their silhouettes, it was evident right away that they were armed and that they were pointing their weapons directly at them.
Things happened quickly from there. More leather-clad gunmen appeared from the trees on either side of the canal. Lisa fumbled with the key to turn the engine back on, unsure whether to go backwards or forwards.
She looked to James for guidance, but he was running back over the roof to Anita, who had the pistol raised and was aiming it at the group of men on their left. Lisa saw one of the men on the right raise his weapon and point it at the girl.
"No! Put it down Anita!" James shouted.
A single shot rang out. Anita cried out
