He wouldn’t let me look past him, but the blood on his hands, splashed over his shirt, was enough. Halina didn’t look much better – she looked like she was going to throw up, but she got herself under control quickly enough and tried for a cocky smile that fell flat.
Three – how in hell was I going to manage three?
“Rojan!” Dench’s voice cut through everything, all the smoke and blood and the singing in my head. “Come on, you little bastard, you and Pasha, I know you’re here.”
He sounded ready to split me in two. It was all the encouragement I needed to do something, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think rearranging us was a good plan – it was too far and I was too screwed. I was probably too far gone for just me and Pasha, and leaving Halina behind wasn’t an option.
I was too screwed for almost anything but I caught sight of the pig, of the rocky slope behind it, and a slightly less stupid thing came to mind. Slightly less stupid, with an added hope we might be able to grab a pig too – despite imminent death, my stomach was feeling jealous at getting left out of the planning and kept inserting its own ideas.
“Not rearranging us out. Can’t. Not three. Too screwed. But I can do something. Hold on and get ready to help me run.” It was a stupid plan really, but all the choice we had apart from die, and I’ve never been a fan of that.
Pasha tried one of his monkey grins, though it was pretty shaky. “I won’t let go, I promise you. You fall in, I fall in.”
I managed a nod and he held on to my arm, his voice in my head holding me like he promised, not letting me fall in if he could help it.
It was touch-and-go none the less. The black swooped in like a carrion bird, threatening to carry me off, and I was helpless before it. Only Pasha’s voice kept me here, this side of sane. I clung to it, and it was then that I realised how much I’d come to rely on the little sod.
It wouldn’t take much, I hoped. I really did. The valley sides were static rivers of rocks, some as big as houses. I wasn’t going to manage one of those in my state, but with any luck I wouldn’t have to. Take the right rock, and all the rest should come tumbling down.
It worked better than I could possibly have hoped for, for once. It was still too much, even that little. Another pop in my head, the gush of something hot down my face. Through some kind of black mist I saw the rocks go, shooting out of the jumble like corks out of bottles and tumbling off down the valley. I heard more than saw the resulting landslide, the grind of rock on rock, a scream, followed by another, and the high-pitched squeal of what was probably a pig. A clatter of trotters on stone as the corral snapped and the pigs made a determined escape attempt, squealing all the way. Halina saw what I was about and joined in the fun – rocks started zipping about, slamming into men, scaring the crap out of some of the pigs so they careered through and over tents, kicking and gouging anyone they found. A bigger rock – Halina grunted in effort – rose straight up and then fell into one of the bigger fires, sending sparks everywhere. A few of those sparks ended up finding a home on the trampled tents, and the subsequent impromptu bonfires had men running every which way.
“Nice,” Pasha breathed, then grabbed my arm and dragged me up and away. “Shit.”
Yeah, shit was about right. A group of men had stayed steady around the tunnel entrance, ignoring the pandemonium of pigs squealing their way up and down the valley, of men screaming and swearing, of fires and of soldiers turning on each other as suggested by Pasha. Well, I can only assume that’s why they were suddenly trying to rip each other’s faces off.
I staggered to my feet, wiped at my face and tried again. Another rock or two, another landslide. It might be enough. It was enough to get me another pop in my head, a fresh flow down my face and the voice of the black taking over every rational thought.
A sudden yank from Pasha as a gun sounded right near my ear and the swoosh of a bullet whipping through the air where we’d just been almost fucked it up for good, but I’d got the rocks free, set more tumbling down, end over end, cutting the men off from us, leaving the tunnel mouth blessedly free, for now.
We had to run, but I was barely capable of walking, and I was retching so hard I thought I might actually bring up my stomach.
After that, there was a lot of nothing.
Chapter Thirteen
Sound came back first, little overheard snatches that made no sense. Dendal’s papery voice reading scripture. Pasha’s worried murmur. Perak shouting, “I absolutely forbid it!” in a voice so strained it almost wasn’t his. I kept my eyes shut and let myself drift for a while, not really knowing where, or even who, I was.