job of being leader and making enormous choices that people's lives depended on; he had been so unperceptive that he had allowed his own girlfriend to die, hadn't even realised she had been murdered. Sometimes he wondered if it would be better for all of them if he simply walked away and left them to it.
The Wayfinder pointed them north-east out of Tenby. Shavi kept just within the speed limit in any area where it was likely there might be traffic police and floored the accelerator at all other times. Although the lantern suggested a route which took them across country, after their experience in Builth Wells they agreed it would be best to avoid the open Welsh countryside and instead keep to the main roads. They picked up the busy A40 just outside Carmarthen and followed it all the way to Ross-on-Wye, then cut across to the motorway. There the Wayfinder resumed its northwards pointing.
'Whoever has the talismans is travelling fast,' Shavi noted. 'And they obviously have a definite direction in mind.'
'Here, why don't you do that thing you do? You know, with the mushrooms and the trance and everything? We could find out where they're going and try and head them off at the pass,' Veitch suggested.
Shavi fixed his gaze on the road ahead, his face suddenly emotionless. 'No,' he replied simply.
The sky grew an angry red, then shifted through various shades of purple as they trundled north through the West Midlands conurbation, the flat countryside of Staffordshire and Cheshire and then over the Manchester Ship Canal, where the traffic seemed as busy as if nothing were wrong. By the time they had passed Lancaster and the proliferation of signs for the Lakes, darkness had fallen.
In the back, Church, Ruth and Tom sat quietly around Laura's unmoving form while Veitch and Shavi found security in a rambling discourse on the mundane, punctuated by long, introspective silences.
'I've never seen this much of the country,' Veitch mused. 'Barely been out of London before. The odd trip to Southend to see me nan. Never north of Watford.'
'Beautiful, is it not?' Shavi noted thoughtfully. 'Every part of it. And not just the parts you expect to be beautiful, like the downs and the heaths. Cooling towers seen in the right light are golden. Once I was on a train coming out of Derby and we passed through a terrible industrial wasteland that they were in the process of turning into some civic site. There were heaps of dirt and weeds and huge pools of polluted water. And then, just for one moment, the quality of the light reflected the grey clouds off the pools and the whole landscape turned silver. It was so wonderful it took my breath away. We have lost sight of that wonder in the every day.'
'Yeah, I suppose. But have you ever been to Becton?' Veitch thought for a moment, then looked at him suspiciously. 'You don't look like a queen.'
Shavi returned his gaze, a faint smile on his lips. 'I do not like labels.'
'Well, you are, aren't you? A shirtlifter?'
'I prefer to consider myself polymorphously perverse.'
'What's that bollocks?'
'It means I take my pleasure from wherever and whatever I please. We have a limited time to indulge ourselves. Why limit yourself to just one sex?'
Veitch snorted, stared out the passenger window.
Shavi stifled a laugh at his Victorian values. 'What is wrong?'
'Makes me sick what you people do.'
'Do not think about it, then. I will not force you.'
'You better not try it on with me.'
'You are not my type.'
Veitch snapped round indignantly. 'Why not?'
'You are just not.'
Witch turned back to the passenger window, muttering under his breath.
At that moment, Laura stirred in the back. Church leaned forward anxiously and for a moment the tense silence in the van was unbearable. Gradually, her eyes flickered open, burst with momentary panic as they tried to establish her situation, then calmed when they saw Church leaning over her.
'Shit, this hurts,' she said in a fragile voice.
'Take it easy,' Church whispered, 'you've been through a lot.'
His heart ached when he saw the terrible memories suddenly play out across her features. Her hand jerked up to the pads that covered her left side. 'My face,' she said desolately. Her eyes filled with tears that brimmed over on to her cheeks. She clamped her lids shut so they wouldn't see her weakness.
Church took her hand, thinking she would shake it off, but she held on tightly. 'We're here with you,' he said gently.
'God, nobody's going to want to look at me.' Her voice was filled with such awful pain that he felt queasy. In her despair he could see through all her defences and the honesty was almost too much to bear, like someone had opened a door on to a searchlight from a pitch black room.
'Don't be silly. You're with friends here.'
She snorted a bitter laugh. 'Friends? You all hate me.' Church could hear the irrational, overly despairing ring of the drugs in her words.
'We'd stand by you through thick and thin.' Church looked round in surprise as Ruth leaned in next to him.
'Hey. Miss Frosty,' Laura said weakly. 'Do I smell the stink of pity?'
'No. That's Tom.'
Laura lifted her head as much as she could then let it drop once she had seen his indignant expression. She let out a wheezy laugh. 'Old git. Nice to see you. Bet you thought there was someone actually going to die before you.'
'You need to get some rest,' Tom replied acidly. 'A week or two, maybe. We could turn up the drip-'
'How do you feel?' Church asked. When he looked into her face he felt something flash between them; a brief light in her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile; it sang through the air and he felt a shiver run down his spine.
He could see she felt it too; she smiled at him, then it slipped away uncomfortably, as if she couldn't understand the emotions sweeping through her. 'Like I've been on the bacon slicer,' she said.
'They did quite a number on you. Do you know who it was?'
Her brow furrowed as she struggled to remember. 'Some tramp. He said you knew him.' A long pause as the name surfaced. 'Callow.'
'Callow?' Church and Ruth said in simultaneous surprise.
'He's just a scrounging no-mark!' Church looked at Ruth for some explanation. 'He was in Salisbury. What's he doing here?'
'He knew where we were,' Laura said. 'There's no way he could have found us by accident.'
'Shit! What the hell's going on?' Church felt an impotent rage sweep through him. 'When we find the bastard, I'll kill him.'
'There was something else …' Laura's voice almost broke from the strain. 'I remember … His eyes turned red, like they were filling with blood. And there was something moving under his skin. He wasn't human …'
Her voice trailed away and the van filled with silence until Veitch called back, 'We've got to pull in at the next services for some petrol.'
They swung into the sweeping drive of Tebay Services, past clustering trees that seemed too dense and frightening, but the cafeteria was a welcoming oasis of light blazing in the night. Enormous picture windows looked out over the bleak high country of the northern Lakes, the stark interior lamps casting illumination over a cold duck pond and wind-blasted scrub. Church noticed the breathtaking view and thought briefly how pleasant it must have been in summers past; now it seemed too close to the dangerous, deserted countryside.
'I've got to stretch my legs,' he said. 'Get some tea. We should take tenminute breaks in twos. Who's with me?' Ruth volunteered, but Tom, who had been poring over the book of maps with a pocket torch, overruled her rudely.
They found a seat in the cafeteria next to the windows looking out over the impenetrably dark landscape. There were a few other travellers, scattered around, as if they didn't dare sit near to anyone else, just in case.
'It's changing quickly now, isn't it?' Church stared out into the night morosely. 'I wonder how long we've got before everything falls apart.'
'Not long.' Tom sipped his hot chocolate thoughtfully. 'But there's still time for you to make a
