Untouchable (6 page)

‘She wasn’t stiff when I saw her dancing last night,’ commented Paulo.

‘No,’ agreed Amber, ‘but we should do something gentle or she’ll refuse to do anything at all. How about orienteering? Alex, what do you feel like? You don’t have to come with us.’

‘Actually I could do with a run,’ said Alex. ‘To clear my head.’

‘Someone should go with you,’ said Paulo. ‘You can get flashbacks with some drugs.’

‘I’ll go,’ volunteered Hex. ‘I’ll bring the chill-out kit.’

They heard swearing and crashing from the kitchen. Tiff had come down.

‘I think I hear her ladyship’s up and about,’ sighed Amber.

As they started back indoors, Alex hung back with Hex. ‘Thanks for sorting me last night. I guess I was talking gibberish.’

‘Snakes and Wendy houses,’ said Hex. ‘Yeah, you were.’

Alex kept his voice quiet. ‘Can I ask a favour? Will you come with me to find that little house? I know it’s daft but I want to see what’s really there.’

Hex and Alex jogged across the open moor. Hex had an Ordnance Survey map in a waterproof case secured to his belt. Although Alex couldn’t remember where he’d been, a little detective work allowed them to retrace his steps. While the palmtop finished recharging, they worked out how far he could have gone in the time, then looked on the map for possible buildings within that radius. It was mostly open moorland, and every farm, cottage or ruin was marked. It wasn’t hard to narrow down Alex’s likely route.

Hex kept looking at his friend as they jogged, worried he might get a relapse. But Alex seemed more normal now. He’d lost the washed-out pallor and the haunted eyes. In fact it was Hex who was looking worse. He’d only had about an hour of sleep because he’d been looking after Alex.

It was magnificent countryside. Rolling hills, narrow sheep tracks, hummocks where marshes had dried out, the occasional gulley carved by streams, now dried to just a trickle in the bottom. Some were more than a metre deep, covered with tufted wiry grass. But it wasn’t quite as peaceful as during the night. Every now and again they heard the crack of a rifle shot in the distance – people from the hunting lodge. And sometimes—

A vast noise suddenly filled the sky. Hex and Alex stopped and looked up. A black shape like a dart zoomed over, heading out to sea. The RAF flew up from Lincolnshire to practise laser target marking on the uninhabited islands off the coast. The jet screamed into the distance, leaving a cotton-wool wake.

Hex’s heart soared. Now he felt like he was in the land of the living again.

‘Hey,’ said Alex. He pointed ahead: on the horizon was a small stone building with a chimney and a fence.

Hex checked the map. It was marked, but there were no roads or tracks to it. He recognized the characteristic features. ‘It’s a bothy.’

They had come across a number of bothies in the previous week. They were small one-room buildings in the middle of nowhere, constructed so that travellers could shelter from bad weather. A club kept a number of them maintained as a tradition of the countryside.

But this one had fallen on hard times. As they approached, they saw that the fence petered out around the side of the building and became a mess of shattered wood. Where the rafters had been was open sky. The windows had gone and the interior was a mass of fallen timber.

Alex looked at it in disbelief. ‘It was like this; it had a window here, but inside . . .’

‘Maybe when the moonlight touched it, it came alive,’ said Hex.

Alex gave him a withering look.

‘Sorry, mate, but you were high as a kite and seeing snakes and faces. You might easily have imagined you saw people inside it.’

‘No, there definitely were people,’ insisted Alex. ‘Let’s have a look at the map.’

Hex handed it over.

Alex scanned the area around them, then compared it with the compass. ‘There’s another one just over that hill.’ He set off at a jog.

Hex sighed. ‘Just over the hill’ was quite a way. Still, he liked to do at least one really long run every week.

They jogged up to the next peak. Down below was another small bothy with grey slate tiles. ‘That’s it,’ panted Alex. ‘It’s got a roof.’

Don’t get your hopes up, thought Hex as he followed him down.

This bothy was in much better condition. There was glass in the window, a sturdy door. Alex looked at the stone mullioned window and then at the ground beside it.

In the short, wiry grass was a small pile of pink and red matter. Alex’s heart started pounding like a steam hammer. He heard Hex’s voice as if from a long way off. ‘Alex, they’re deer entrails. Something’s had a go at them, but they’re from a deer.’

Hex was worried. Alex was clenching his fists, the knuckles white, his forehead grinding into the stone wall. Was he having a flashback? Hex reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Alex?’

Alex looked down at the little pile on the ground. He breathed out slowly to calm himself. Look at what’s actually there, he said to himself. He’d seen animal entrails enough times not to be shocked by them. There were the intestines – a greyish pink curl with kinks like unravelled knitting. Those were the snakes. There was the heart – half eaten, and definitely not beating. There was a corner of the liver – most of it had gone but enough of its shiny lobes remained to show him why he had thought it was lips. And the kidneys, surrounded by white fat. That was what he’d thought was eyes.

‘The people you saw were probably just gamekeepers gutting a deer.’

Alex ran a hand wearily through his hair. ‘No, there was something else.’ He sighed. ‘I just can’t remember it.’

Hex pressed his face to the window and cupped his hands around his eyes. ‘Quite cosy in here.’

Alex looked too. Once again he was transported back to the previous night. There were things he’d seen but not particularly noticed: the fireplace, dusted with the remains of old fires; the pile of wood to the left-hand side of it; the oil lamp on the simple wooden table; the rough low benches; the washing line stretched across the room for drying wet clothes.

Hex moved to the door. ‘Might as well have a look inside.’ He tried the latch but the door wouldn’t move. He looked down at the latch. Underneath it was a keyhole. ‘It’s got a lock.’

Alex joined him. ‘It shouldn’t have. The door’s probably reclaimed from another building.’ He put his thumb on the latch and pushed but the door didn’t budge. He frowned and looked at Hex. ‘These are supposed to be open so that anyone can use them.’

Hex stepped back and looked at the building. ‘Maybe it’s private property.’ He walked round. Perhaps there was a sign or a notice they’d missed.

Around the other side, they found one:

Alex looked at Hex. ‘Then why is it locked?’ A thought occurred to him and he gripped Hex’s arm. ‘Hex, I saw something weird last night and I can’t quite remember it. It’s like a radio station that’s just out of tune – I can’t get it but I know it’s there. What if it was a murder? A dead body being cut up? There was definitely blood. And now they’ve locked the bothy so no one can get in and look around.’

‘Alex, think,’ said Hex. ‘Do you really believe you saw a murder? If so, we’d better go to the police.’

Alex kicked the wall in frustration. ‘I saw
something
. I just can’t remember what.’

Hex led him round to the window again. ‘Look in there. See if there’s any sign of a murder. Personally, I think there would be a hell of a mess: they’d have to hose the place down. But there’s dust on the windowsill and ash and mud all over the floor. No one’s cleaned that place up for a long time.’ He looked at Alex. ‘I think all you saw was a couple of gamekeepers working late.’

Alex sighed. ‘I suppose so.’

Hex got out his palmtop. ‘Let’s see where Tiff’s taken the others.’

‘I’m lost,’ said Tiff, and stopped, as though she had run out of steam.

They had been walking for two hours. Paulo had thought it would be good to let Tiff do the navigation. If she found walking boring, maybe she needed a mental challenge. So he, Li and Amber had followed her, patiently going where she took them, letting her make the decisions. Normally on an orienteering exercise they would stop frequently and check the map and the compass. But for the last twenty minutes Tiff hadn’t looked at the map at all.

Now she stopped and said she was lost. The map in its waterproof see-through cover swung around her neck. She made no attempt to look at it.

For heaven’s sake, thought Amber, she couldn’t be lost. All she had to do was look around. Behind was a river, crossed by a solid stone bridge. Beyond was a steep hillside of purple heather. It should be easy to spot such a distinctive combination of features on the map.

‘Remember what I told you,’ said Paulo patiently. ‘First you set the map.’

‘What’s that?’ Tiff’s voice was flat, bored.

‘Work out which way up the map should be,’ said Li.

Tiff held the map up. ‘It’s got to be this way up, otherwise the writing will be upside down.’

Amber would have found it funny, but she was too annoyed at Tiff’s obstructiveness. ‘Look for the point where the bridge crosses the river,’ she muttered.

Tiff looked at the map, then looked accusingly at Amber. ‘There are two bridges.’

Li pointed behind them. ‘Look for that hill.’

‘There isn’t anything marked “hill”.

‘Look for the contour lines,’ said Paulo patiently.

Amber could see that Tiff was about to ask what those were and couldn’t bear to hear such a stupid question. ‘The red swirly lines,’ she said. ‘If they’re close together, the land is steep. Look for tight contour lines on the north bank of the river, near a bridge.’

‘Right,’ said Tiff, her mouth working. She still didn’t look at the map. ‘And?’

‘Now tell me the grid reference.’

Instead of answering, Tiff held out the map to Paulo to do it for her. His face looked like thunder.

Li wanted to giggle. She was always teasing laid-back Paulo about being lazy, and here he was being wound up by someone whose laziness was truly phenomenal.

But Paulo didn’t see the funny side. ‘Forget it,’ he snapped. ‘How did you get to the rave if you can’t read a map?’

Tiff played the innocent. ‘Why? Do you wanna dance?’

Amber tried to bring her back to the job in hand. ‘Tiff, you said we’re lost. How are you going to find out where we are?’

Tiff looked around and spotted a couple walking slowly along the riverbank; they were wearing gaiters and walking boots and carrying ski sticks. ‘I’m going to ask those people for directions,’ she said. As she approached them, a white pointer dog came bounding out of the foaming water. It sniffed around Tiff’s feet and leaped on ahead.

‘I am so looking forward to handing over to Alex and Hex,’ muttered Paulo. ‘I definitely need a run to get this out of my system.’ They had planned to swap activities at a halfway point.

Amber watched Tiff show her map to the couple. ‘I have never had to ask for directions anywhere,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘I want the ground to open up and swallow me.’

The pointer sniffed at Paulo’s feet and scooted off to the scrubby heather. He watched him, smiling.

The woman looked up and saw the dog. ‘Pip!’ she called. The dog looked up obediently.

Then there was a sudden blur of movement and the dog let out a yelp.

Paulo’s head snapped round. That sounded bad. He dashed towards him, but as he skidded to his knees beside him, the pointer staggered and collapsed. Amber and Li hurried up to see what was going on.

Paulo had seen the scenario before, on the ranch: the sudden flurry of movement, the agonized cry. ‘He’s been bitten by a snake,’ he told them.

The couple ran over to their dog, with Tiff trailing behind them, but Li put her hands out to stop anyone going near the bush. ‘Let the snake get away or it might attack again,’ she told them.

‘Snake?’ repeated the middle-aged man, who had a ginger beard and a weathered face.

As Li watched the bush, she saw a dark shape flash away, curling like a snapping whip. It had a distinct zigzag marking like a tyre tread. ‘It’s an adder. It’s poisonous.’

The woman clutched her husband’s arm. ‘Poisonous?’

‘What do we do?’ said Tiff.

Paulo had his hand on the dog’s side, feeling the lungs under the smooth white hide. They were pumping hard and his breath rasped in his throat. Paulo looked up at the couple. ‘Do you know where the nearest vet is?’

The woman shook her head. ‘No, we’re here on holiday.’

Li was already on her phone. ‘Directory enquiries? I need an emergency vet, near to—’ She grabbed the map hanging around Tiff’s neck. ‘Nearest to Vullin Lane, where it crosses Glaick River.’ She dropped the map and waggled her fingers at Amber, as if dialling on a keypad.

Amber held up her phone. As Li listened to the number she punched it in on the mobile. Then Amber took over and called the vet.

‘Hi, we’ve got an emergency – a dog has been bitten by an adder.’

Paulo didn’t like the look of the dog’s face. It was starting to swell, the flesh starting to balloon off the narrow skull. The dog’s mouth was open, the tongue hanging out in a pink curl.

‘Right. Thanks,’ said Amber. She cut the call. ‘Tiff, give me the map. There’s a vet visiting the hunting lodge just down here. His receptionist is warning him we’re on our way.’