Julian pulled the zip down slowly and peered outside. There was now no sign of Shepherd in the ditch, nor Agent Barns, although he wondered whether the ID badge was genuine, and whether Barns was really his name.
‘Shit, where are they?’
He turned round. Rose was dressed now, ready and crouching anxiously behind him.
‘Where’s Grace?’ she whispered. And then as an afterthought, ‘Grace has a gun.’
‘I can’t see her… or them.’
‘Jules? I said Shepherd might want to bury this, that’s all. Why the hell are you so jumpy all of a sudden?’
He turned round. ‘I was being followed in London, Rose. I just recognised that guy Barns. I think he was tailing me. I think he might even have broken into my apartment and bugged the phone.’
She froze. ‘Seriously?’
‘And now Sean’s dead,’ he added, ‘killed the day after I had lunch with him.’
Rose’s jaw slowly dropped open. ‘Oh fuck.’
He nodded.
‘So, what are we going to do? We can’t just run out into the woods without our stuff — we’ll get lost, and this isn’t the time of year to go doing that.’
‘Rose, consider where we are right now. We’re alone in the deepest, darkest wilderness with a man who stands to lose everything if we emerge from these woods alive with this story. I can’t be a hundred per cent sure that Sean’s stabbing is linked, but you know what? I’m not prepared to hang around here a moment longer and, you know… ask.’
‘Jules, I’m scared.’
‘Me too.’
She placed a hand on his back. ‘Okay, I’ll go with the leave idea.’
‘Right.’ He peered out again. ‘We’re going to climb out very calmly and casually make like we’re going to the trees for a toilet visit, okay?’
‘What about Grace?’
‘She’s out there collecting firewood. We’ll try to find her and explain we need to make a sharp exit.’
‘All right.’
‘Ready?’
‘Not really.’
Julian lowered the zip the rest of the way, pushed himself out through the flap of the tent and stepped into the morning sunlight, dazzled and blinking. He stood up slowly, stretching and yawning, half-aware the whole routine looked pathetically theatrical.
Rose stood up beside him, shielding her eyes from the morning glare. ‘Where are they?’ she muttered quietly.
‘We’re right here,’ replied Shepherd flatly, standing to the side of the tent.
CHAPTER 81
Sunday
Sierra Nevada Mountains, California
Julian spun round at the sound of his voice. ‘Oh,’ he gasped, and then managed a faltering smile. ‘I believe we were all going to celebrate finding Preston’s things, weren’t we? Shall I brew us a nice pot of coffee?’
Shepherd cocked his head in an odd, unsettling way, a distracted, far-off expression on his face. Barns looked at him, one hand sliding discreetly into his jacket pocket for something.
‘Mr Shepherd, sir?’
Shepherd shook his head silently, his lips fluttering in silent debate.
‘Rose and I will get some firewood,’ Julian added, reaching for Rose’s hand. ‘Get a nice fire going for the coffee? Have some breakfast too… okay?’ Julian wondered if Shepherd had heard any of that, but then the man’s troubled eyes returned from far away and locked onto his.
His thin lips spread slightly with a hard-fought and weary smile.
‘Yes,’ he said, his face flinching and flickering. ‘Do that. Go get some firewood.’
Barns’s hand hesitated in his jacket pocket. He looked confused. ‘Sir?’
Julian turned to Rose and mouthed, ‘Let’s go.’
They backed away from the two men, turned and walked, struggling with an instinctive urge to break into a desperate run.
Julian heard Barns’s voice again. ‘Sir? Are you sure about letting them go?’
Rose whispered from the side of her mouth. ‘Shit, Jules, I’m sure they know. They know we know.’
‘Keep walking,’ he hissed back.
Behind them, Barns’s voice came again, insistent. ‘Mr Shepherd, are you all right?’
They stepped a little more quickly over the undulating mounds of moss, both desperately trying not to give in to the growing rush of panic. For some reason Shepherd seemed to have slipped into a listless state. Right now he was letting them walk. Julian figured if they started to sprint, that might snap him out of it.
Twenty yards ahead of them were the first saplings that marked the edge of the clearing and the start of woodland rising from it. To their left, in amongst them, making her way down the slope, weaving through the trunks, he caught the briefest glimpse of Grace’s red anorak.
‘Look, there’s Grace up ahead-’
His words were interrupted by a high-pitched shriek of rage from behind them. It was Shepherd’s voice… but somehow not Shepherd.
‘KILL THEM!’
Julian turned to see Barns react instantly, whipping out a gun and adopting the well-practised firing stance of a trained killer.
‘Oh shit. RUN!’
He heard several cracks of gunfire and felt the throb of a bullet passing his ear an instant later. Rose yelped beside him as they raced for the trees. The sound of two more cracks came in quick succession.
He felt the sleeve of his jacket tugged viciously and saw the white puff of inner lining exploding from a ragged hole.
‘Shit!’
They reached the first narrow tree trunks as a third double-tapped volley was fired, sending splinters of young wood into the air. Julian and Rose ducked down and scrambled under the low branches into the undergrowth.
He lost his footing on a root and tumbled over.
‘Jules! Get up! Get up!’
Rose held out a hand; he grabbed it and pulled himself up just in time to see Grace emerge from the trees, clearly confused by the ruckus. She started jogging towards the two men, unslinging her rifle. Julian realised that, in all innocence, she must have been thinking the shots were being fired at a bear.
‘GRACE! RUN!’ Rose screamed.
Grace turned their way, confused by Rose’s call. She turned to Shepherd, her gravelly voice raised urgently as she asked them what the hell was going on.
Julian watched in horror as Shepherd’s hired killer swiftly raised his pistol and shot the old woman point- blank.
‘NO!’ screamed Rose.
They watched in shocked stillness as Grace flopped lifelessly to the ground. Shepherd casually reached down and scooped up her gun.
‘Oh shit-shit-shit…’ Julian muttered. He grabbed Rose’s hand and pulled her after him. ‘Come on!’
They scrambled up the hillside, alternately weaving their way through dense clusters of undergrowth and
