Obesssion (34 page)

“
How much does Jon Craigowan mean to you, Suki? Is he important, too?” I heard her swallow. She stared fixedly out of the window, her fingers clenched into my thigh. “I’m going to be grief-stricken in the race this weekend, Suzu. I might put my car off the track. And I might take him with me.”

18.5 Josh

Jon thumped the steering wheel.
“The
fucker
. I wish I’d let you finish him off, Josh. So help me when I get my hands on him, there’s not going to be much left.”

I could hardly speak, my chest was so tight.
“Do you know where he means? The café?”

“
If I’m right, it’s at the top of this hill.” We kept seeing glimpses of his car ahead, fleeting shards of light as he rounded the bends. I didn’t know how Jon kept the Audi on the road, yet he managed to accelerate to close the distance between us. And we had another problem to contend with. The audio link was failing, crackling and fading. I whipped out my phone, no signal on that either. Jon glanced at me. “Have we lost sound?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Without audio we couldn’t tell when they stopped, if he pulled off the road and killed the engine we could quite possibly drive straight past them.

“I’ll get closer, get right on his tail. He knows we’re here anyway.”

My eyes searched the darkness, longing to come up behind them. Once we did, I wasn’t sure what we’d actually do, we were playing this by ear.
“There’s the Philadelphia.” Jon nodded to an unlit building as we swept past. “We’re near the top of the hill.”

He cursed as the tires skid around another bend and then inhaled sharply as the road straightened out and dropped before us. We could see the next mile clearly in the sweep of our headlights. There was no car in front of us.

18.6 Suki

I thought Gabe would pull into the car park for the Philadelphia. I knew the gardens at the back of the café opened onto a trail that led along the side of the hill. The same trail we’d walked all those years ago. And he might have intended to do just that.

But Gabe’s arrogance, his confidence he
could drive anything, was also his weakness.

I remember him swearing as he snatched at the wheel, the tires bumping over loose gravel on the side of the road, and then we spun. It happened in slow motion. Gabe changing gear, stamping on the pedals, hauling on the wheel. The car yawing side to side, the screech of the brakes, the rain beating against the windows. The jolt as I banged against the door, my hands flailing for something to hold onto as the world went crazy.

And Gabe, battling to the last, as the car gave up the struggle.

18.7 Josh

“
Fuck!
” Jon yelled, hitting the brakes so hard I’m surprised we didn’t catapult through the windows. “They must be in the car park.” The road was too narrow to turn round, I gasped as he slung his arm across my seat and rammed the car into reverse, hurtling backwards the hundred yards or so, back to the café. And the empty car park.

“
Not in front, not here… they didn’t have time to turn around and go back—we’d see their lights.” Jon turned the car slowly in a circle, the headlights on main beam, lighting up every corner of the deserted patch of tarmac.

“
Is there somewhere else behind the building?” I peered through the rain, baffled.

“
Maybe.” Jon shot forwards again. There was a narrow path leading to an outbuilding, but no car. “
Damn
. Where the fuck are they?”

I sucked in my breath.
“They must have doubled back. There’s no other option.” Jon was already racing for the road again, pulling out onto the ribbon of tarmac when I saw something different.

“
Stop
!” He hammered the brakes again. We lurched to a shaky halt. I pointed to the tree line at the side of the road. “That gap looks fresh. Look, there’s debris on the road.”

For a long, agonized moment, we stared at each other, neither of us willing to voice our fears. The very real possibility Gabriel had driven off the road. Oh, Jesus. I didn’t want to look. An image of Suki’s broken body flashed into my head. No, I wasn’t going to buy into this. Jon must have come to the same decision at the same time. As one, we threw open the doors and scrambled to the tree line, slipping on the broken twigs and leaves as we pushed through the bushes.

Standing there at the top of a sheer drop, the rain battering down on us, we stared into the darkness, searching for a sign of them. There were deep scrape marks—ruts from tires leading away from our feet, more broken twigs and branches strewn before us. Jon had a tiny torch in his pocket, he cast a pencil thin sliver of light across the ground. It was impossible. The rain clouds were so dense there was no moonlight, we couldn’t see anything.

We could hear though.

Even over the drumming of the rain, I could hear a high pitched keening. A voice. And a sharp tapping noise.

It was Suki.

“I’ll bring the car to the edge.” Jon galloped back.

“
And then there was one,” I murmured to myself. No torch, no rope, no phone signal. But Suki was alive. And I was going to rescue her.

18.8 Suki

I had no idea where I was. As I inhaled painfully—it felt as though I had glass under my skin. I figured I was upside down, my seatbelt tight as it suspended me. The engine had stopped, the only noise I could hear was rain battering down against the bodywork, a noisy staccato that drowned out anything else. I’d stepped into hell. A wet hell—everything was wet.

Gabe. Where was Gabe?

I turned my head. I seemed blocked somehow, by Gabe. His bulk, his lifeless body lay against me, half under me. I wasn’t upside down after all. The car lay on its side, the driver’s door into the ground, and I dangled over him, unable to free myself. I blinked, tried to shake my head. A tinkle of glass rained down around me, falling from my hair. The windshield had shattered, I was covered in broken glass. And rain, that’s why I was wet. A surge of relief. It wasn’t blood.

In the movies, when cars run off the road they always burst into flames. No, I couldn’t think of that. I forced my mind to think of Josh. He was just behind us, with Jon. They’d rescue me.
If they found me
.

Concentrate
, Suki.
Focus
.

I had to get out, climb through the windshield. Easier said than done, the slightest move made me scream in pain. My right shoulder could have been on fire, from my wrist to my chest the pain burned into me, it felt as though I was impaled on a butcher’s meat hook.

I tried to shout for help. It emerged as a rough whisper, it hurt to draw enough breath, but I had to—
I had to
. Trying to ignore the pain, I sucked in as much air as I could and wailed at the top of my voice.

“
Heeeeeelp….”

Christ
, that hurt. But it’s the only way anyone—
Josh—
would
find me. In desperation, I gingerly, moved my left arm and started banging my wrist against the dashboard. My watch was small and dainty, but it made a sharp, metallic noise with every smack.

Beneath me, Gabe didn’t move. I couldn’t even hear him breathing.

18.9 Josh

I was already feeling my way down the embankment, slipping and sliding in the mud, when Jon brought the car to the very edge. All of a sudden, a broad swath of ground lit up before me. I blinked in the bright glow, shading my eyes for a second with my hand as my vision adjusted. And there it was, only twenty yards further down.

Adrenalin
e surged. Finding my voice I yelled her name. “Suki!
Suki!
” I could hear Jon coming down the slope now, his voice yelling, too. We stumbled and slithered, uncaring of the slope, ignoring the rain, our only goal to get to the car. I couldn’t hear her any more, but I knew where she was.

Giddy with relief, I almost didn’t see where the car was, almost made a disastrous situation a thousand times worse.

Gabriel’s car was perched on its side on a rocky outcrop, the back end teetering over a sheer drop. With the light from Jon’s car I could see inside, almost. I crouched beside it, smearing the mud with my hands, tears running down my face as I saw Suki inside. Jon crunched through the undergrowth to my side. I held out one arm to stop him. “
Don’t move
.” He froze.

I snaked my arm through the open front, catching Suki’s hand as she stretched out to me. Words failed me. She hung there, dangling on her seat belt, sobbing and smiling at the same time.
“Josh, Josh,” she cried over and over. “Get me out of here.
Please
.”

“
I will, baby.” I swallowed, dragging my attention back to the car. Suki was alive. Sweet Jesus,
she was alive.
“You need to stay perfectly still.” I made my voice calm, my fingers squeezing hers, sharing my strength, needing her touch. “If you move too quickly, the car is going to go over the edge.”

We made a strange tableau. Jon and I crouched, sopping wet and muddy, Suki staring back at us, her eyes fixed on me.

“Josh, can you get me out? Please, tell me you can get me out of here.”

“
We will, baby, I promise you.” I just wasn’t sure how.

18.10 Suki

God knows how, but there was light shining on and around the car. Josh’s face, in profile, looked terrified. I refused to look again at Gabe.
“Stay calm, baby. Just stay with me, okay?” Josh’s voice reassured me even though the fear in his eyes told a different story.

I nodded, even that small movement sending new arrows of pain down my arm.
“Josh,” I croaked, “I can’t open the door. Gabe locked them—and
he’s—lying—
on
the release.” My words caught in my throat.

His eyes never left mine. In the ghostly light, he smiled, full of confidence and love.
“You’re coming out through the windshield.”

“
My seatbelt…it’s jammed.”

“
I think he’s blocking it. I’m going to slide over the hood and in the car with you, and get you free. Then you’re going to climb out. Jon will help you. Are you hurt?”

He made it sound easy. Keeping my eyes averted from Gabe, from the wreck of the car, from the drop I knew lay feet away, I swallowed hard and nodded again.
“My shoulder, I think I’ve broken something.”

Josh was already leaning on the hood, easing closer, an inch at a time. The car dipped under his weight, then rocked back.
“Right or left shoulder?” His voice was cheery, normal.

“
My right.” He still held my left hand, our fingers tightly entwined. A little reassuring squeeze.

The car dipped again as he reached the sad remains of the windshield. Using his elbow, he cleared a bigger hole, knocking out most of the glass, talking all the while.
“I was thinking about us going on holiday somewhere—would you like that?” He edged closer, his head and shoulders now resting on the dashboard amidst the confetti of glass chips. “Somewhere exotic, I thought. Where d’you fancy?” His sleeve snagged on something. He glanced at it, frowning, then tugged to free himself, hissing in pain as his shirtsleeve ripped and his arm was scraped. Blood pooled along the length of his forearm, dripping down from his wrist.

“
You’re bleeding, cowboy.”

“
I don’t like to make a habit of it.” He released my fingers; I felt bereft. With the three of us, it was crowded in the car now. Josh burrowed underneath me, shoving at Gabe’s body, trying to find the catch for the seatbelt. “Got it,” he breathed. “When I press the button you’ll drop a few inches. Brace yourself, baby.”

I did. Even so, the pain rocketing through me caused black spots to dance before my eyes and I howled. Moments later, Josh had his arms around me, cushioning me and holding me close. I tried not to cry
—there’d be time for tears later. “You okay there, Suki? It’s time to leave.”

He made it sound as though we were going to catch a train or something equally mundane.
“Mmm.” Speaking hurt. Breathing hurt. Even blinking hurt for a few seconds as I readjusted my position, ready to climb out. Josh cupped his hands around my bum, lifting me, steering me through the gap to Jon, waiting on the outside.

“
Take it slow.” He pushed me gently, mindful I was hurting. I used my good arm to reach out for Jon, my right arm dangling useless at my side.

“
Hey, Suki.” I saw a flash of white teeth in the gloom. “You coming back to my car now?”

Josh shoved me up and sideways, propelling me through the window frame. The shockwave made me scream in pain as I bounced off the car and rolled into Jon’s waiting arms. Why had he done that? He knew I was injured. Pain overwhelmed me, sucking the light from my eyes, a merciful wave of darkness wrapping around me.