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She sighed. “I thought about that. To be honest, I didn’t know if their guns would melt in the fire or whether they’d have spares in the car. It was something I’d have had to think about before I went in there. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not,” he said. “But you’re also a young girl and I can’t imagine you have much experience of going up against people like that. It’s dangerous. You could have gotten yourself killed.”

She pursed her lips and tightened her jaw. He could see the glint of tears in the corner of her eye. “I’m the only one he’s got. He’s a good man. He didn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve it.”

He shook his head. In his almost sixty years, Clive had seen a lot of people get far worse than they deserved, and many people who lived charmed lives despite their cruelty and greed. There was no rhyme or reason to it. By rights, this was just one more case of life being unfair. He ought not to have been particularly fazed by it, but he was. Perhaps it was her age. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d stayed there, starving, in order to endanger herself and try and save that man.

Whatever it was, it seemed like a far better use of his time than guarding some old fool like Charles Mackintosh. He couldn’t save everyone; he’d abandoned his duty to even try. But could he do something to lift the weight from this girl’s shoulders?

“Look, let’s get to the farm and get some rest, eh? We’ll be able to think clearer then.”

She froze. “What do you mean, we?”

What were they going to do at the farm, exactly? Walk in the fields and spend their day tending to sheep? A crisis had erupted around them. He owed it to Olivia to get her to safety. After that…

He was highly trained in a way that the vast majority of the population wasn’t. And something about the girl’s story had crawled under his skin and was refusing to go away.

He was about to explain when his blood ran cold. There was something else besides the noisy old Renault engine. “Slow down for a moment,” he hissed, sitting forward and gripping the seat in front of him. “Ease off the accelerator.”

“Why?”

“I think I hear something.”

She did as he said, slamming on the brakes so hard that they all jolted forward, which woke Annie and Terry from their sleep.

“There was no need to do it quite so sharply. For all I know, it’s nothing.”

She sped up again without replying, this time throwing them back against their seats.

“Oh, for goodness sake.” What was she worked up about? “I only asked you to—”

“I know what you asked me. And I slowed like you said. But then I didn’t need to.”

“What do you—”

He fell silent when she pointed at her rearview mirror. He couldn’t see what she was seeing because of the angle it was tilted at, so he turned to look out the back. He almost collided with Olivia as he did. She’d been going at a fair speed all along, but now she’d sped up past that, to the point where the old engine was whining towards its limit. They were being thrown this way and that as she avoided the stationary cars and vans that dotted every lane of the motorway.

And then he understood. He didn’t see it at first, but then his eyes focused on it. A grey speck in the distance behind him. He’d been right. He’d heard it.

Surely not. It couldn’t be. It was too far away to tell what make of car it was. “What colour was their car?”

“What colour do you think?” she hissed. Now her eyes were focused only on the road ahead. “Keep an eye on them. Tell me if they start to close the gap.”

Clive watched, his heart thumping. Close the gap? There was no question of it. An XJS against their little Renault… How much time did they have? Not much.

“Can this thing go any faster?”

“What do you think? We’re already pushing it.”

37. Terry

Terry’s eyes were closed, but he hadn’t been sleeping. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to sleep again. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured one of two things: the boy he’d shot and the flames whooshing around the old garage. Sometimes they morphed into one horrible image that made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

That was when they’d been driving normally. Now, all of a sudden, he was being thrown this way and that, often into Olivia beside him.

He opened his eyes and immediately he wished he hadn’t. Cars were coming at them at a frightening speed. The fact that they weren’t moving only made it seem worse.

“My God,” he muttered, feeling sick.

“It’s the men from the garage,” Clive said, without looking at him. He was staring out the back window so Terry turned to look too. “They’re following us.”

Terry frowned as he remembered everything Si had said about them. It didn’t help that he’d only been half paying attention. “How did they find us? We lost them earlier.”

“Same motorway. Could be a coincidence. Could be something else.”

“Are you sure they’re chasing us?”

Si snorted. “They have shotguns. They kidnapped Max. Let’s not give them the benefit of the doubt.”

Terry rubbed his eyes. “And I thought yesterday and this morning was the worst that could happen.”

No-one else said anything. They were all either staring ahead or behind. Terry watched the car. It was still some way behind them—it disappeared temporarily whenever there was a slight bend in the road. “How long have they been there?” He was transfixed by the other car.

“I don’t know. But they’re gaining on us.”

“Are they?” Si gasped. “I should have known. There’s no way we can outrun them in this.”

“What the hell are we going to do then?” Terry leant forward and craned his neck to look up at the sky. It had been fine earlier but it was dull again. At least it wasn’t raining: that would have made their breakneck speed even more hazardous. But he couldn’t tell what time it was or how long they’d been going.

“I don’t know. I’m going to keep my foot down; that’s all I know.”

They whizzed past a series of blue signs with white diagonal lines. It gave Terry an idea. “Why don’t we get off and try and lose them?” They were well out of London by now and the urban sprawl had given way to green hedges and rolling hills with sheep dotted around them. “There’s bound to be a barn or something we can hide in.”

Annie sighed heavily. “Okay, I’ve counted about five minutes. What do you think, Clive? How much have they gained on us?”

“It’s hard to tell,” he said. “Maybe two hundred yards? Maybe more. They’re certainly far closer than they were.”

She turned to Si. “I know none of us knows the area, but there’s no point in us trying to outrun them. They can afford to keep chasing us. They’ll get us eventually.”

“What are you saying?” Si spat. She looked tired. The intense concentration was clearly taking its toll. “That we should just give up?”

“No. I’m saying we should consider getting off the motorway and trying to lose them on smaller roads.”

“How far are we from your place?”

“Too far,” Annie said, looking out the window. “They’ll catch us long before we get there. Getting off is our only choice.”

Si shook her head. “It’s too risky. They’re only seconds behind us. One wrong turn and they’ll have us. I can’t get us away when I don’t know the roads and none of you can guide me.”