He bent and began to untie the rope around her ankles. Every nerve was a red hot needle. There might just be one chance and if there was she must grasp it. She must risk it all now because once he found that she had lied and that there was no bag she was sure that he would not let her live.
Chapter 24
He unwound the rope from her feet and in a flood of pain her arms were pulled from behind her back.
“Christ, oh good Christ.” Blackness hovered at the edges of the world and she bit the inside of a cheek to force herself to focus and cling to consciousness.
He tied the rope again around her wrists and cut off the excess, dropping it to the bottom of the cave. His merciless fingers lifted her head. Tears filled her eyes and as she blinked them away they dribbled across his hand.
“Bloody hell. Bloody snivelling women.” He dashed the moisture on the legs of his jeans.
“Listen to me now, bitch. We are going to walk up the cliff. I’ve left the rope loose so you can balance. See how kind I can be when you co-operate? But if you make any silly moves, if you try to attract attention, if you do anything that annoys me you are going over the edge. Do you understand?”
Pauline sniffed and nodded. Holding the trailing edge he led her forward. Though she was stiff and sore the long miles of hiking had made her strong. Her muscles remembered how to flex and stretch and on quivering legs she staggered towards the fading light at the cave entrance.
He pushed before her and gesturing with a hand behind him to keep her back he moved on to climb the first of the rocks. He turned towards the beach and watched for maybe a minute, perhaps more. When he was satisfied he tugged on the rope. She followed like a tethered beast.
For the first part of the climb she concentrated on finding her footing. As her joints loosened and warmed her movements became more fluid, stronger with each step. He was two paces ahead and confident in his ability to clamber on the wet cliff. She watched, assessed, waited.
She tripped, tugged on the rope and he turned back with a snarl. “Bloody well take care bitch, you’ll have us over!”
“Sorry.” She kept her head down her gaze averted. She tripped again and came down on her knees.”
“Shit! Will you stop?” He turned and stepped back half a pace.
“I’m sorry, I’m stiff and sore. My legs won’t work properly.”
“Stop whining.” With a shake of his head and a sigh he leaned and tugged at the binds around her wrists and then he hooked a hand under her elbow and hoisted her upright. “There, now come on.”
She wobbled on the next step and fell again; this time fully across the rocks. The rope tightened and he spun round in alarm. “Bloody hell! Can’t you be careful?”
She lay full length and began to sob. He slithered towards where she was with her head on the rock and her leg between two great boulders.
“I’m trapped. I don’t think I can move. Please, help me. My leg’s stuck.”
He threw the rope aside in fury and stepped across her.
As he bent to the rocks she closed her eyes and drew up her knees. With all the strength left in her battered body she kicked out at him. Both feet connected with his lower belly and he tumbled back amongst the loose stones at the edge of the promontory.
“Shit!”
Pauline curled forward and threw herself at him. She screamed with the effort and felt him grab at her hands, pawing at her arms in panic. The ground beneath him was unstable and rocks and pebbles cascaded into the swirling water. She shook him off and fell back onto her behind. Drawing up her knees again she planted both feet flat against his chest and with a mighty kick pushed him further over the brink.
“Bitch! Bitch!” He screamed at her, but he was clawing now at the crumbling edges and she kicked again and again beating down on him with her heels and thrusting with all the strength left in her legs. She heard the crack as his nose broke under the onslaught of her pounding feet and then with a rumble of rock and a final screech from him, the verge collapsed and carried him away into the tumbling waves.
He screamed again.
She heard the thud of him bounce against the rocks.
Then there was nothing but the cry of the gulls and the waves breaking on the shore.
She couldn’t move. She simply lay on the rocks for now and just breathed but knew that she would have to look.
On hands and knees she crawled forward. Then, stretched full length again, because she suspected that her legs wouldn’t hold her, she peered over the edge. His body was far below. She couldn’t tell if he was alive. He made no effort to swim and as the water took him towards the rocks she believed that at the very least he was unconscious.
She was still bound but able to push to her feet and clamber to the beach side of the rocks. Far below, walking in the evening light was a group of teens, a dog walker. She yelled to them and held up her arms. The nearest group turned and peered towards her. She lowered her aching arms; they would come now. She tried to shout but all that she could manage was a keening wail and then two of them turned and began to run away. As they did the sounds of their panicked calls floated back to her. They pointed as they went and then the others joined the dash; they ran from her, they ran from the creature in the rocks, they ran from the fabled figure on the headland, the ghoul from the past.
Hysteria took her now and she began to laugh as the tears rolled down her filthy face and the effort and the anguish took the strength from her legs and she flopped to the ground and lowered her head into her hands. If he had been alive surely he was dead by now. She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t help herself, all she could do was to sit in the sunset and cry.
At last the world wheeled away and darkness descended. She was done, there was nothing left and so it was over.
Chapter 25
The cold forced her back to the world, cold and the shivering. When she opened her eyes the sky above was indigo, silver stars were sliding through the blanket and so she knew she had been out of it for a while.
The pain in various parts of her body had become an old enemy by now and so pushing herself to a sitting position brought no surprises. The world tipped and swam but righted quickly and the slight nausea passed leaving her feeling drained.
The horror of the fight swarmed back in. She lowered her head and forced herself to breathe deeply. Was he still there? Did the body still swill back and forth at the foot of the cliffs? Of course she would need to go and look.
She had killed a man.
What was she going to do now?
This wasn’t something that could be fixed. He was dead. Wasn’t he? Her mind’s eye recalled the image of his body, arms flailing as he rolled towards the rocks.
It was her fault he was dead. How would she ever be able to bear it? Right now most of what she felt was empty. The fear was gone, the horror numbed by a sort of disconnection.
First she had to get rid of the rope which was still around her swollen wrists. He had loosened it when she tripped repeatedly and so, with a little effort she was able to wriggle her hands free. She tossed it to one side among the boulders.
She leaned sideways and then rolled to her knees and, using the rocks for aid, managed to push herself upright. Stiffly she made her way to the edge of the cliffs and made herself look. His body was still caught in the tumble of rocks at the base of the promontory and the receding tide raised his arm and waved a hand to her. Surely it was just the action of the water? Could she be sure? Maybe he was still alive? Horror consumed her and bile rose in her throat.
She must clamber down. She should at least do that. She ran, small uncertain steps back and forth looking for a safe place but there was none. Often she glanced back to where he lay. White water broke against the body. Surely he must be dead. But then, did he try just now to raise his head?