Chapter 5


    Richard


    Once more, we drive, covering the same ground, when, with a jolt, James sits upright. “There’s the


    signal again! It’s only a mile or so away, on the road, back the way we came.”


    His fingers dance over his keyboard as he zooms in on the signal, pausing only to clutch at the


    dashboard as Michael makes a screeching one-eighty turn. The three of us press back in our seats as


    he elerates hard, the smell of burning rubber blooming through the air.


    Screaming down the winding mountain road, we break out from the dark enclosure of the pines and as


    we take a corner, swaying into the turn as we do so, the headlights swing onto a running figure….


    No…. Two running figures….


    It’s Charlotte, racing pell-mell, dragging Elizabeth behind her, almost towing her….


    She’s done it!


    She’s fucking done it!


    Whatever you want Charlotte….


    …. Anything you want….


    But as the headlights catch them, Charlotte twists around, the lights directly in her eyes. Even from


    here, her expression, feral with calction, is clear.


    She U-turns, almost spinning to run the opposite way, her fingers gripping Elizabeth’s wrist, hauling my


    wife behind her….


    All she can see is re….


    As she turns, Elizabeth stumbles, losing her footing, but Charlotte yanks her upright, dragging her


    along and away.


    Michael ps a hand on the wheel. “Fuck! They don’t realise it’s us.”


    Elizabeth is staggering, clearly exhausted. But Charlotte doesn’t release her grip, leaning into her stride


    as she pulls her along. In the dark, I struggle for a moment to find the window switch, but as it slides


    down, I yell out, then lean out, waving. “Elizabeth! Charlotte! It’s us….”


    My wife is slow to react, her movements sluggish. But Charlotte spins on her axis, still with Elizabeth


    swinging behind her, and now, running directly for us, is shouting something at us, her free arm


    gesturing wildly….


    What’s she saying?


    …. but within seconds her message is overtaken by events as car lights swing onto us from off-road.


    Another vehicle races up the hill towards us, towards the fleeing women.


    Michael curses and ms onto the elerator, but it’s not clear who will reach the women first. Spot-lit


    by beams from three directions, Charlotte halts, hovers for a fraction of a second, then suddenly


    releases Elizabeth, shoving her in our direction, gesticting and screeching instructions at her.


    My wife totters towards us, but Charlotte dashes off to one side, vanishing into the darkness, and one


    of the cars turns to follow.


    “Shit!” spits James. “We can’t follow both!”


    “Neither can they…” mutters Michael, his foot still hard on the gas as he helter-skelters towards


    Elizabeth. “Get ready to pull her in,” he shouts back to me, but I’m already half hanging out of the back


    door, reaching for my Love.


    She can see me and in the harsh light of the heamps, her eyes are desperate, swollen, her face


    white and tear-streaked as, seeing me, arms outstretched, she screams my name.


    As we are all but on top of her, Michael jams on the brakes, in a tyre-shredding, teeth-jarring


    deceleration, but the other car is almost on us.


    “Get her in!” he yells as, our own vehicle still moving, I encircle my wife, lifting her clear off her feet as I


    haul her in. As soon as I have her inside, without even the door closed, with a gut-slinging turn, we set


    off at speed.


    For a moment she lies floundered across myp, sobbing and wailing helplessly, but there is no time


    for hesitation as, outside the car, shots shriek and bullets jump….


    With every shot, Elizabeth whimpers, burying her face in my chest. “Charlotte,” she whispers. “She got


    us out, got us away.”


    I hold her tight. “We''re not abandoning her….”


    The car swings violently as Michael swerves, driving at reckless speed around some object in the dark.


    All the while, James guides him with bare words and gestures that, to me, not in their loop, feel like


    some weird telepathy.


    James peers out and down at where bullets skip and jump. “They’re going for the tyres…”


    Again, Michael treads hard to the floor, and the car shrieks away into the night, following Charlotte’s


    direction….


    But now we have two cars giving chase, shots firing as we skid madly from side to side, Michael


    swerves crazily to swing the headlights back and forth across our path, to avoid boulders, trees and


    gulleys, any one of which might be the hiding ce for Charlotte.


    Elizabeth emerges from my embrace, still shaking violently, but now watching the view ahead, such as


    it is. The headlights beam ahead into a bright blindness of trees, scrub and rocks, but with no sign of


    our quarry.


    Where is she?


    To have rescued Elizabeth, at the cost of losing Charlotte….


    How would I ever look them in the eye again?


    But there is no sign of her, and with shots ricocheting all around us, it is only a matter of time before our


    pursuers seed in taking out the tyres….


    I can’t say anything…


    …. I just can’t….


    So, with my trembling wife cradled in my arms, instead, I tap my phone. “Will, are you still there?”


    “What the fuck’s happening, Richard?”


    “We’ve got Elizabeth, but not Charlotte. She’s here somewhere, but she’s running, and we’re being


    pursued. They’re shooting at us.”


    “Hold tight. I’ll flood the area with cars and officers.”


    James speaks, sounding sick at heart. “We can’t stay. If we lose a tyre, we’ve all had it, and we’ll be no


    use to her then.”


    Michael, still driving like some drug-addled speed addict, jerks a nce at him, his voice unbelieving.


    “You’re saying we should go? If they catch her again, what do you think are her chances of escaping a


    second time?”


    James pinches the bridge of his nose, speaking quietly. “We’ve got Beth. Let’s get her to safety. We’ll


    it’s us ande out of hiding.”


    Michael shoots him a re, then sags in his seat, nodding. “Can you navigate me to a road?”


    I speak into my phone. “Will, we’reing back to the highway, before they get the tyres and disable


    the car. If we stop, we’re finished.”


    “We’re on our way.”


    As I disconnect, I tap James on the shoulder. “I’ve spoken to Will. He’s going to saturate the area with


    patrol cars. If we can get back to the highway, we’ll havepany very quickly.”


    Elizabeth sits up beside me, beginning, despite the gunshots, to regain herposure. “And perhaps


    Charlotte will break cover then,” she says.


    James is following a map on his screen, weirdly illuminated on a night-vision setting. “We’re only a


    minute or so off the main road.” He points. “That way, if you can.”


    Michael nods, a terse, unhappy gesture, but follows the direction.


    Will wasn’t exaggerating about flooding the area, and as we approach the highway, lights, blue and


    amber, sh in all directions. The pursuing re behind us falls away, and some of the police cars turn


    to follow it, skidding past us in pursuit.


    We pull up, surrounded by a rampart of police vehicles. James, still peering at his screen, sighs, his


    voice weary. “We’re down to just the one tracer and it’s travelling with us.” He twists to face us. “Beth,


    where have you got it?”


    She stirs in my arms, wiping a hand over her face. “Sorry, James. I’m not with you.”


    He swallows hard. “We found you because Charlotte nted tracers on herself and her car. She didn’t


    tell you?”


    Elizabeth trembles, her breath shuddering against me. “She set herself up? To find me?”


    Michael is silent, his knuckles knotting on the steering wheel. James’ speech is slow and slurred. “She


    started with seven trackers. There’s only one left, and it’s here in the car. It’s got to be on you. Did


    Charlotte give you anything?”


    She shivers, reaching up into her hair, “Um, yes, a couple ofbs. There were lice in the room they


    were holding us in.”


    James exchanges a nce with Michael. “I’m sure she found that convenient.”


    Yes…. that would suit her modus operandi….


    He holds out a hand. “May I see thebs, please, Beth.”


    Hands shaking, she struggles to remove them, and as she pulls them free, her long red hair, normally


    so beautiful, now stinking, drops in greasy its to her shoulders.


    James takes thebs, using the shlight of his mobile to get a better look. He’s clearly far beyond


    upset, but nheless, his brows rise as he examines the work of his red-haired prodigal.


    Thebs are nothing special. Any market stall or budget store could have sold them for small


    change. “Mmm.… she did a good job of disguising the tracer, at least to the casual eye,” hements.


    “She reced one of these pewter type gems with the tracer; slotted it into the socket. No-one would


    notice it on a casual inspection.”


    He swallows again. “Beth, was she wearing a ne when you saw her? With a locket? The kind


    you can put a photo in?”


    “She was when they first brought her in, but when they made her change all her clothes, they took it off


    her.”


    What?


    James and Michael exchange another look. “Changed her clothes? Was that before or after she gave


    you thebs?” he asks.


    “Some timeter.”


    That nose pinch again….


    He’s trying to think straight, but he’s just about disabled by stress….


    After a moment, James continues, “It looks as though they caught on that she had the tracers, but


    didn’t realise that she’d already nted one on you.”


    This isn’t going to get us anywhere….


    …. We need to get the story out in a coherent whole….


    “What now?” I ask. “I’d like to get Elizabeth home.”


    N?velDrama.Org: text ? owner.


    Where I can get theplete tale from her….


    Michael nods. “Perhaps one of the police cars? Now that Charlotte knows we’re here, and the police


    too, maybe she’ll show up.”


    *****