One of the dogs howled, no more than fifty metres behind her. Fifty metres and closing.
Ash was flying now. She didn’t think she’d ever run this fast, not even when she was a thirteen-year-old girl and the champion sprinter in her year at school, capable of doing a hundred metres in just over twelve and a half seconds. Her long, gangly legs used to ‘eat up the track like spaghetti’, as her mum would say. But that didn’t matter now because she was never going to be able to go fast enough. The dogs were going to catch her. In a few minutes’ time it was all going to be over. Every experience she had ever had, every emotion she’d ever felt, was going to disappear for ever, wiped clean. It would be like she’d never existed.
The hole appeared without warning, and her foot went straight into it. She tripped and landed painfully on the hard ground.
Suddenly she was rolling down an incline, hitting stones and exposed tree roots before landing with an icy splash in water.
She was in a fast-moving stream about ten metres across. Rolling further into it, she allowed herself to be taken by the current, keeping all but the top half of her head underwater as she half-crawled and half-swam downstream. The water was freezing but she didn’t care. This was her chance of escape.
Behind her, Ash heard the dogs stop, barking wildly. She dipped her head below the surface, holding her breath, pushing herself into the middle where the water was three or four feet deep and she could swim properly. A minute passed and she came up, gasping for air.
The stream was running faster now, and she could hear a roaring, growing steadily louder, coming from further ahead. That was when she realised with a jolt of panic that she’d read in a brochure at the lodge that close by was a waterfall more than twenty metres high.
She must be heading straight for it.
Cursing, she fought her way across to the opposite side of the stream from the dogs, but she was soon out of her depth, and fully clothed and wearing shoes. It was suddenly a terrible struggle. The roar was getting louder, and she was being swept along faster. Currents of water were whirling and flowing around her, and the cold was beginning to have a real effect.
For a moment she thought about giving up. Just letting the water take her to where it would. If that meant death, then so be it. At least that way the effort was over.
But Ash was a fighter. She always had been. When she put her mind to something she didn’t give up.
An exposed rock appeared in front of her, and she grabbed hold of it. She took a couple of desperate, panting breaths before using the rock as a lever to push herself over to another rock closer to the bank. A huge sense of relief filled her as she felt solid ground beneath her feet. She waded out, glancing backwards. She could still hear the dogs but they sounded quite a long way back now, and because they were on the other side of the stream, she hoped they’d no longer have her scent.
Close to exhaustion now, and shivering with the cold, Ash crawled under a thick holly bush a few yards from the water’s edge, trying to get as far under it as possible. Finally, she lay still and let her breathing slow.
In those moments, she once again thought about death, about how a person’s world could change in the blink of an eye, or the deep slash of a knife. One minute she was a happily married woman living a problem-free life. The next her husband was lying dead in their holiday home, and she was alone and terrified in the woods while at least one killer hunted her down for a reason she simply couldn’t understand. Why could they possibly want to kill her? She didn’t even have any idea who they were.
Ash lay there for what felt like a long time. A minute? Two? Five? It was difficult to tell, and she didn’t dare look at her watch. However long it was, she heard no further sound from her pursuers or the dogs. Had they given up and gone? Or were they still out there waiting for her to make her move? God, she was so very, very cold. She couldn’t lie like this for ever. At some point she would have to find shelter. Otherwise she risked dying from exposure.
A twig snapped a few yards away, and Ash froze.
9
Silence followed. One second. Two seconds. Three. Ash stopped breathing and fought to keep her shivering under control, because it was rustling the leaves under her. Every nerve ending in her body felt like it was on fire.
She heard a footstep nearby. Then another. Coming closer.
Oh God, no.
She didn’t want to die. The thought of a knife being plunged into her and slowly bleeding to death almost made her cry out in utter terror. But she forced herself to calm down, hold her breath and stay still. Without the dogs to help him there was a possibility he might miss her. No part of her body was exposed. He might not see her.
Please God, if you exist, help me now. Don’t let him see me. Please.
The man was right above her now. She could feel his presence. His boots crunched on the forest floor as he crept round the bush.
Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t breathe.
Slowly Ash forced her eyes open, and that was when she saw the bottom half of his legs. He was standing right there, his muddied boots only two feet from her head, pointing her way.
Jesus, he knows I’m here.
The whole thing felt like some horrible game of hide and seek. Ash could feel her lungs coming close to bursting. She had to breathe soon.
Then he was moving off again, down towards the edge of the stream. As he did so, more of him came into view. It was the same man from the lodge. The one who’d stabbed Nick. She was sure of it. He was still holding the bloodied knife he’d used down by his side.
Bastard.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ash could see a piece of jagged flint the size of a fist near to her right hand. Suddenly she felt an intense rage the like of which she’d never experienced before. Ash considered herself a nice girl who didn’t believe in the death penalty, but at that moment all she wanted to do was kill this bastard who’d come here and ruined her life. She allowed herself a long, silent breath before reaching out for the piece of flint and gripping it tightly.
The man in black crouched down and looked up and down the stream.
Then slowly he began to turn, and Ash realised that at the height he was at, he was going to see her.
Fear rushed back. It mixed with rage and desperation. All these different emotions tore around her body like the whirlpools in the stream. She had to make a decision. Fast.
He turned round completely. He was wearing night vision goggles and he was staring straight at her.
For a split second, he didn’t move.
But Ash did.
With a speed born of pure heart-pounding adrenalin, she leaped out of the bush, rose to her full height and let out a howl of anger as she threw the stone straight at his head.
It was her one chance of survival, and it worked. The stone hit him full in the face, knocking him backwards.
He kept his balance, and he still had the knife, but he was hurt. He clutched at his face with his free hand and grunted with pain.
Now that she’d drawn blood, the rage seemed to re-energise Ash. She flew forward, picked up the stone and, before her attacker had time to defend himself, smashed it into the side of his head with such force that he went down to his knees.
He swung his knife at her in a wild arc but he was way too slow and unsteady. Ash dodged out of the way and danced round the back of him, sensing victory as she struck him in the base of the skull with another big howl.
This time the knife dropped from his hand and he let out a painful groan as he fell forward.
Ash was on him like a shot, jumping on his back and forcing him into the dirt. She brought the stone down again and again on his head, using both hands for effect, ignoring the terrible sound of bone crunching and the blood and brain matter oozing out of his skull. She was lost in the absolute thrill of revenge.