Holy Island(126)

He stood perfectly still, then something finally snapped. With an animal-like howl, he straddled her on the table. The action dislodged the mask and it clattered to the floor, leaving his face bared to her. Eyes feral, teeth bared, he clutched the dagger in both hands and prepared to plunge it deep into her chest.

The circle stood, watching.

Anna looked up, up at the face of a man who believed himself to be a god, who held her life in his hands. In that moment, she thought of Ryan and all they had shared so quickly. If she had known, if she had thought that there wouldn’t be any more time, she would have told him how he had enriched her life.

She would have told him that she loved him and screw the fact that it had only been a few days. She would have enjoyed watching that awkward look on his face while he fumbled to find an appropriate reply.

She smiled, thinking of it.

* * *

Alex was true to his word. The jeep made record time as it flew up the hilly road to the fort, sending small rocks and gravel flying over the cliff edge as it went. Ryan was out of the car before it came to a stop, already reaching for the clutch-piece which still lay tucked into his jeans.

“Wait! I’m coming with you,” Alex stopped to pick up a flare gun – it was the best he could do – and ran into the stone fortress after him.

It was pure instinct which led Ryan to the stairs. That feeling again, guiding him. He took the stairs, two at a time, his tread light. He moved like a shadow, blending with the darkened hallway. He heard Alex moving behind him cautiously, which was good.

“Keep behind,” he murmured, but didn’t wait for an answer. He heard the chanting, a low drone coming from the end of the corridor and followed the sound.

His heart stopped as he took in the scene. He was vaguely aware of the people swaying and mumbling in a circle around him, but his eyes flew to the centre, where Anna lay roped and bound. Above her, Walker was poised, resting on his haunches either side of her.

“Police! Lower your weapon!”

Walker looked across when he heard them in the doorway and gave Ryan and his son a wide smile. He raised his arms higher, prepared to sink the blade into Anna’s chest.

Ryan pulled the trigger and at the same time a stream of red light whistled past his ear. Walker let out a long howl before his body crumpled to the floor, writhing in agony as one bullet speared his shoulder and the hot flare grazed his right cheek.

Ryan turned to Alex, who stood just behind him with the flare gun raised and still smoking. He was breathing hard, tears glistened but they didn’t fall. Gently, Ryan pushed the gun to face the floor.

“For Rob,” Alex said in a low voice.

Ryan nodded.

“Watch the others.”

He ran to Anna, felt the tightness in his chest ease slightly when he saw her alive, breathing, looking at him.

“Get me out of here, for God’s sake,” she muttered and he sobbed out a laugh, began unravelling the heavy rope. He helped her up, wrapped his jacket around her.

They heard the sound of footsteps – one light and one distinctly heavier – just before Phillips and MacKenzie burst into the room. Ryan was amused to note that Frank had elected to swing low as Denise swung high, looking like a Northumbrian version of Starsky and Hutch.

Still, he was damn happy to see them.

“Took you long enough,” he said, then turned to the figures huddled on the floor, hands behind their heads. “Let’s shine some light on this.”

They switched the overhead lights on and systematically de-masked the circle of locals. There were fishermen that Ryan recognised, the receptionist from Walker’s surgery, but amongst them there was Alison Rigby and Bill Tilson.

“She said that my sister had stolen her husband,” Anna said dispassionately as she looked down on the woman who lay weeping on the floor.

“Whores! Every last one of you!” Alison screamed, her mascara running in black tracks down her face.

“Now, let’s not have any of that language,” Phillips said mildly, then put a heavy boot into her back as she struggled on the floor, trying to claw at him. “I suppose there’ll be no more cake for me,” he said.

“Bill.” Anna looked at him as she would a stranger. “You were like a brother to me, but you betrayed Megan and now you’re nothing. You’ve made yourself nothing.”

He held his head in his hands and wept.





CHAPTER 30


December 25th

If she wasn’t so tired, Anna might have found it sentimental that Ryan hadn’t once moved from her side since he had burst back into her life in spectacular fashion.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her for the fiftieth time as he helped her into the coastguard’s jeep, dressed in the baggy khaki trousers and spare red jumper Alex had lent her.