Brodie blinked and realised there was light seeping in from beyond the curtains.
‘The storm’s passed,’ Addie said. ‘It’s light enough for us to go.’
He struggled to his feet. ‘You shouldn’t have let me sleep.’
She said, ‘Like you didn’t need it.’
He struggled into the anorak he had borrowed from Brannan, and heaved Robbie’s old weekend pack on to his back. He felt the weight of the laptop in there, and Sita’s samples, and all the additional burden of responsibility that rested on his shoulders for getting his family out of here.
Addie held out a box of cartridges. ‘Some additional rounds in case you need them.’
He took the box and stuffed it in his pocket. He said, ‘Don’t you think about anything except keeping Cameron safe and getting him to the eVTOL. Let me worry about Robbie.’
Outside, the snow lay thickly over everything, deep and unbroken, robbing the world of definition. There was light in a clearing sky, and in the absolute stillness that settled across the village and the mountains in the wake of the storm, all that could be heard was the dawn chorus. Birds emerging from wherever it was they had taken shelter, to greet the new day. Oblivious to the fear that stalked the streets of this tiny settlement.
Brodie stood in the doorway, clutching the rifle across his chest, scanning the rooftops and the near horizon. But the land rose steeply into the trees on every side, and Robbie could have been anywhere. He must have known that with the storm over, Brodie would take the opportunity of first light to try to make it to the playing field. He had every advantage.
Addie stood at her father’s back, holding Cameron. She said, ‘We’re sticking close to you all the way. I don’t think he’ll risk a shot if there’s a chance of hitting one of us.’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ Brodie turned and growled at her. ‘I’m not using my own family as human shields.’
She met his eye, unflinching. ‘Dad, that’s not your decision to make. We’re in this together, or you go on your own.’
And again he saw something of himself in her. That wilful stubbornness that so had characterised most of his adult life. He knew there would be no arguing with her.
The snow lay at least a metre deep, and more where it had drifted. So they made slow progress up Lochaber Road from the police station, huddled close, Brodie with his rifle held ready to raise to his shoulder. He scanned north and west, Addie raking keen eyes to the east. A plume of snow raised itself from the road just a couple of metres ahead of them, followed by the delayed crack of a rifle shot smothered by the acoustic muffling of the snow. A group of startled crows lifted black into the sky above a gathering of trees almost directly to the north, and Brodie swung his rifle in that direction to release a shot. He felt the kick of it against his shoulder, knowing that there was zero chance of hitting anything other than a tree.
Addie said, ‘He’s not that bad a shot. He’s just letting us know he’s there.’
Brodie nodded. The real test would come when they got to the football pitch.
It was heavy going through the snow with legs that ached and had to be lifted to make every step forward. Past Lochaber Crescent on their right. Mamore Road on their left. Not a single villager venturing forth in the aftermath of the storm. But curtains twitched with the sound of the shots, and unseen eyes watched them from behind glass that reflected only the glare of the snow. Semi-detached houses with upper dormers, and satellite dishes crusted in white. Fences barely rising above the drift.
The banks of the Allt Coire na Bà were smothered in shelves of compacted white crystals, the rush of black sparkling water beneath the bridge cutting a tortuous path beneath a skin of ice. The barrier that Brodie had clipped with Brannan’s SUV the night before was lost beneath the snow.
Now the trees crowded in, close to the road, and rose steeply into the calm of the morning. It seemed inordinately dark among them, perfect for Robbie to move unseen, following their progress around the curve of Lochaber Road as it headed out of the village.
They passed a cottage among the trees on the other side of the fence to their left, snow clinging to the steep pitch of its slate roof, insulation sealing in its warmth, so that the snow would remain there all day, unmelted. Then, up ahead, they saw the turn-off into the tarmac parking area in front of the sports pavilion.
They smelled the blaze before they saw the glow of it in the sky and the smoke rising above the trees. But it was not the sweet smell of woodsmoke. It was the acrid stink of man-made materials, toxic, and belching abnormally black smoke. For a moment, Brodie thought that Robbie had somehow managed to set the eVTOL alight. But as they reached the turn into the football field, they saw Eve half buried under snow in the middle of the field where she had landed. The ground around her appeared undisturbed.
It wasn’t until they left the road behind that they saw for the first time, beyond the trees, the flaming bulk of the International Hotel. Across the valley, sirens were sounding at the fire station, but it would not be a simple matter to get here through metres of drifting snow. The flames licked high above the treetops, and Brodie understood for the first time what it was Robbie had meant when he’d said of Calum McLeish, he’ll burn now like everyone else. Everything would be destroyed in the fire. Younger’s corpse. And Sita. And McLeish. No doubt Robbie had intended for the evidence stored in his hut to go up in flames as well. He must have figured that Brodie had found it by now. Another reason he couldn’t afford to let him leave.
The glow of the fire flickered orange across the white that lay thick on the playing field, ash falling from the sky like the snow before it. The prevailing breeze carried the smoke through the trees in their direction. But, even so, Brodie knew that as they crossed the field to the eVTOL they would be easy targets.
He glanced behind them, but there was no sign of life among the trees on the hillside. Addie stuck close to him, only too aware of the danger, as they ploughed across the snow-covered tarmac to the shelter of the pavilion. Brodie saw immediately that there was no green light on the reader attached to the plug. Either Eve was fully charged, or the cable had been severed again. He lifted the end of the cable, and began pulling it up from the snow as they crossed slowly towards the eVTOL. Halfway there, the severed end of the cable prised itself free of the snow where McLeish’s repair had been ripped apart.
‘Shit!’ Brodie cursed and knelt down, searching in the snow for the other end. They couldn’t afford to leave a length of cable dangling from the e-chopper as it took off. If it would take off at all. He found it and ripped it up through the crusting white snow as they started to run towards Eve.
When they reached her, he waved his RFID card at the door and it slid open. He half turned towards Addie. ‘Get the boy in, quick.’
Addie bundled Cameron unceremoniously into the back of the eVTOL, the boy protesting all the while at his rough treatment. Brodie pressed the return button inside the cable hatch, and the remainder of the severed cable began to reel itself in.
‘Get in,’ he shouted at Addie, almost at the same moment as the bullet hit him somewhere high on the left side of his chest. He spun away in a spray of blood to slam against the open door as the crack of the rifle shot rang out across the field. Addie saw the panic in his eyes.
This time it was she who shouted, ‘Get in!’ And she half lifted, half pushed him into the cabin of the eVTOL, before stooping to pick up the rifle that had fallen from his grasp. She turned around, back to the e-chopper, as Robbie started walking across the field towards them. The blaze of the International lit him orange down one side, and cast a long shadow across the snow. He had a scarf wrapped around his head, and held his rifle at chest height as he advanced slowly towards the aircraft. The air was filled with smoke and the crackle of flames. A siren wailing somewhere in the distance. Addie raised the rifle to her shoulder. ‘Don’t come any closer.’