Lawrence came to a full stop. After a moment so did I.
'Look at me,' he said, his voice taut and intense. 'Shine the light right in my fucking face.'
I did so. Every muscle on his face was rigid, etched with tension and emotion.
' I loved her too, ' he said. 'At least as much as you did. At least as much.'
We stared at each other for a moment.
'I'm sorry,' I said, quietly, inadequately.
'Fuck it.' He shook his head. 'Let's move.'
For the next hour we walked in silence.
'That's far enough, boys,' Morgan called out, and we both started with dismay and took a few quick steps back. A bright light winked into existence, a flashlight beam, and I covered my eyes as he shined it at my face. This wasn't supposed to happen, we were supposed to hear them before we reached them and take at least partial cover behind a rock. I waited hopelessly for him to shoot.
He didn't, and I took advantage of the delay to unscrew the head of my Maglite, turning it from a flashlight into a lamp. Even after a ninety-minute trek the light was bright enough to illuminate the scene. We were about ten feet past the turn into the fifty-foot straightaway that we had selected. The trail here was about eight feet wide. About midway there was a big boulder against the cliff face, maybe five feet in diameter, and Morgan leaned on the other side of it, using it for cover. He had his Maglite in one hand and, as expected, a sleek black handgun in the other. An automatic. We could barely see his face, it appeared only in outline, except for the whites of his eyes and his pale toothy grin.
A few feet in front of him, between him and us, Nicole sat beside the boulder with her back to the cliff face, her arms tied behind her, gagged with some kind of rag. Like Laura had been gagged. Nicole seemed unhurt. She swiveled her head back and forth at us and Morgan, eyes wide.
'Hands up,' Morgan said nonchalantly, and we complied. 'Now where are the others?'
'They're not here,' I said. My mouth was dry but my voice was steady.
'Don't fuck around, Woodsie. You want to see her get a kneecapping and have this conversation over a nice soothing soundtrack of screams?' He aimed his gun at Nicole's knee. She froze and closed her eyes.
'They're not fucking here,' Lawrence grated. 'We thought you were lying, you fucking bastard cunt. We thought you'd gone the other way.'
Morgan looked at us both, shone his light at our faces again, and then nodded regretfully and lowered the gun. 'Aye. Suddenly realized when I got here that that might happen. The boy who cried wolf, hey? O ye of little faith. Tis a pity Hallam didn't join you. I had this delicious notion of making the rape and torture of his wife the last thing he saw in his life. Still, like Meat Loaf didn't say, three out of five ain't bad. Now why don't the two of you get down on your knees like good little boys? Don't like seeing you all ambulatory and all. You might get some crazy ideas in your heads about rushing me or running away and, well, you know, it's like a dinner party. After all this preparation you'd hate for some cunt to get stupid and ruin it all.'
We dropped to our knees, encouraged by his gun.
'That's better,' he said. 'Bit surprised, were you? Bit shocked to get that note from your old mate Morgan? Old Hallam, old king of the heap, he was a bit taken aback I reckon?' He laughed. 'Don't think much of your old mate's mental capacities, do you? Figured I was a bit slow on the uptake, eh Woodsie? Figured if some random stranger called me up and offered me a practically complimentary trip I'd just sign up and be damned? Didn't think a few alarm bells might start ringing in the old cranium, thinking, crikey, this sure is coming thick and fast after I nearly separated old Woodsie's head from his shoulders, isn't it? I reckon I haven't got your lightning computer mind, Woodsie, but I can put a thought or two together when I need to, aye? I can keep a step ahead of you when needs be.'
'Did you bring the gun from England?' I asked.
'From England?' He chuckled. Clearly he was relishing every word of this. 'Christ on a pogo stick, they don't have guns in England, Paul, I would have thought you would have known that. Really, if you're going to go shopping for a gun, an illegal gun mind you, d'you reckon you'd seek one out in London or Tangiers? Pretty simple fucking question if you ask me. You wouldn't believe how easy it is to buy a gun in this country. But the haggling, that you probably would believe. The sales clerks in this country's supermarkets of sinful goods, Christ, what tossers. Almost wasn't worth it. Good quality, though. Genuine original Glock manufacture, thirteen bullets in the clip. More than enough to play around with. I reckon you're both desperately praying for a misfire or summat. Well, pray on. Those Czechs make quality killing machines, I can assure you whole-fucking-heartedly.'
'You are so fucked in the head,' Lawrence muttered. Morgan's face tightened and he swung the gun to bear on Lawrence. I stiffened. Wrong approach.
'You were on the other bus, weren't you?' I asked quickly. 'Last night.'
Morgan glared at me, then back at Lawrence, then shook his head and lowered the gun again. 'A moment, Paul,' he said, 'I pray your indulgence for a wee moment while I invite our other guest to the party. I have been unforgivably rude.' He stepped out from behind the boulder, keeping the gun pointed in our general direction, and untied the gag from Nicole's mouth. His shaved head gleamed in the light, and he seemed absolutely enormous next to Nicole, like a member of a giant alien species. I wondered if even a professional soldier like Hallam could take him in a struggle. He retreated back behind the boulder as Nicole wrinkled her face and spat on the ground.
'I'm sorry,' she said to us, dully. 'I'm so sorry.'
'It's not your fault,' Lawrence said urgently. 'Nic. It's okay.'
'I'm so sorry,' she repeated. She knew it was all over, I could tell. She knew that she was going to die in a few minutes. That we would all die in a few minutes, once Morgan was finished crowing and gloating. I thought she might be right.
But we still had a chance. I could see it from where I knelt near the edge of the trail. Twenty feet below me, up close against the sheer cliff face, about midway between myself and Morgan, was a tiny spark of light. It moved slowly, in quick bobbing motions punctuated by periods of stillness, towards Morgan. It was Hallam. He had followed just behind Lawrence and me, and now he climbed sideways beneath us, illuminating each new hold with the mini-Maglite he held in his mouth, trying desperately to stay silent and invisible while up above a madman gloated about the upcoming rape and torture and murder of his wife. He was an expert climber but I knew this had to be fantastically difficult, climbing barefoot, without chalk or any gear, through the night. A single mistake and he would plummet to his death.
'Now then,' Morgan said. 'Not to interrupt your spectacularly dull conversation, but the question was, my whereabouts last night, and yes indeed I was on the other bus last night. Actually I thought you might have seen me, Woodsie. Was a little concerned that my master plan had been rumbled. When your bus passed mine I looked out the window and I thought you were looking straight back and I was more than a little concerned. Most relieved that you didn't see me.'
'Not consciously,' I said, thinking of the dream I had had.
'Any more questions, Woodsie old boy?' he asked. 'Any more facts you desperately need cleared up before I dispatch you to the great hereafter? Time's a-wasting, you know.'
'One or two,' I said, desperately trying to think of some. We had to keep him talking long enough for Hallam to climb past Morgan and come up behind him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lawrence reaching out along the ground, closing his fist around a baseball-sized stone while Morgan's attention was on me. 'Those notes you leave, they're not in your writing.'
'Oh, please,' he said dismissively. 'Write them with my left hand. Little detail to keep the authorities off the trail. It's the details that tell in the end. Anything else?'
As he said 'end,' I saw movement below me, and I looked down, and I saw that little spark of light tumble down into the darkness and disappear. I gasped. Morgan didn't notice, or thought I was just panting with fear, as I had on that Indonesian beach.
'You're going to rot in hell,' Lawrence said.
I heard two very faint clinks from below. I put together what had happened. A piece of limestone used as handhold or foothold had suddenly come loose, and Hallam had dropped the flashlight. That explained the two noises. But there had been no thud of anything large hitting ground. Hallam still clung to the sheer cliff beneath us. I wondered if he could make his way up to the trail in the dark. I doubted it. Rock climbing is hard enough when you can see what you're doing. Feeling your way up blind would be nearly impossible, even for Hallam. He would try, but
