Einar threw the window wide, just like before, and raised his gun. His hand and the weapon were slick with his blood. But he had no shot. The sloping land sucked them slowly away below the fence like quicksand. By the time he had aimed his shot, they were just three bobbing heads, too far away to burst with a handgun.
He looked up and beyond. Across the river was the picnic area. He couldn't hope to apprehend them on foot by following them across the river, but a vehicle could get him around and into that area quickly.
And Marsh's helpful neighbours had just arrived home in a vehicle.
***
The river was slow and shallow and they got across easily. But it was cold, too. Maria was shivering when they got out. Jimmy hardly felt it. Louise, carried aloft, had wet shoes and socks and that was it. The rest of her dress was bone dry. She had giggled during the journey, telling her dad not to slip and wet them.
On the other side, they climbed out onto cut grass, which made the going quick. Jimmy hoisted Louise into his other arm and gave the weapon to his aching left. He turned and looked across the river, at the cottage. Only the busted top window belied its quaint and homely appearance.
"Now what?" Maria gasped, her face a mask of fear. She used a hand to turn Louise's head away, telling her not to look at mummy just yet. Didn't want her daughter to see mummy's fear.
Jimmy looked at the trees that hid the main road. If they could get to the Audi, they could escape. The police car was out of action. He pointed at the trees, the effort of raising his arm and the gun monumental after carrying his daughter across the river.
They heard engines, coming closer. All three looked over at the entrance and watched as the two Baja buggies zipped in like houseflies. Mud sprayed up from under their wheels. Jimmy recognised the two teenage Carter boys by their thin arms and rock t-shirts, despite the fact that they wore helmets. He put Louise down and ran towards them, gun discarded, both arms waving.
The lead Baja skidded to a stop in front of him. The one behind slewed past, cut a sideways skid, and straightened up to fire into the picnic tables, zipping neatly between two rows. The driver then increased speed and took the Baja alongside the river. That would be Jon, then, the unsociable one.
Mark slipped off his visor and stared at the family. "What's happening, yo?" he called out.
Jimmy heard another engine now, lower, not as much anger. A typical engine, in a typical vehicle. Too close to be from the main road. And there was only one vehicle here inside the Shield. He felt panic and horror rise within him. And dismay at what he was about to do.
He moved to the gun and picked it up. Mark's face fell as Jimmy stepped forward and aimed it right at his face.
"Sorry, mate, but I need that buggy," he said.
*
Einar quickly soaked a towel in the sink and rushed downstairs with the dripping item pressed against his face. He threw open the front door and darted out. A middle-aged couple was at the sliding side door of the people carrier, helping out an older pair. There was a younger man stood closer to him, staring at the Marsh cottage with a puzzled face, as if he'd heard the gunshots and knew exactly what they were. Einar strode out, aware now that the water dripping from the towel was stained pink.
"Did I hear a gun?" said the younger man as Einar approached him. He grew a more concerned look as Einar tossed aside the reddened towel to reveal his gashed face. And more so again when Einar raised his pistol.
"I'm taking that piece of shit car, so hurry on up and get away from it."
Everybody froze.
"That's the opposite of hurrying up," Einar shouted. He was concentrating on not swearing, even though he was angry. Swearing diluted professionalism, he felt, even though the odd screamed obscenity could promote seriousness. "Today, today," he yelled, waving the gun, watching as the fivesome now hurried. The younger man was firing questions while the others moved without a word. The silent four scuttled away towards their house. The other guy stood his ground.
"Just tell us what you need. We don't want trouble." He stepped forward, closing the gap between him and Einar to five feet.
"Maybe trouble would let me vent," Einar said, and stepped forward with a head-butt that smashed the wannabe hero's nose and dropped him like a man crushed from above. He rolled and moaned as Einar jumped into the driver's seat, thinking that he'd been right: he did feel a lot better now he'd put that guy down. He had to wipe his bloody hand on his bloody suit in order to grip and turn the key. The engine fired up and he spun the vehicle. Tried a turning skid, but the engine didn't allow it. God, he missed the Audi. Einar got the vehicle aimed back towards and exit and stomped the accelerator, and without a wheelspin the people carrier urged forward with impatience far short of his own.
***
Holding the gun on Mark, Jimmy helped Maria into the seat. She clearly didn't want to do this, but he urged her, telling her they could not escape on foot. Louise was deposited in her lap, then Jimmy climbed behind her, his ass on top of the backrest, legs jammed between the doors and Maria's sides.
"Man, that's just dangerous," Mark said. He didn't seem that bothered by the fact that his new neighbours, people they'd laughed and joked with at a barbeque the night before, were stealing his prized buggy. Beyond him, the other Baja was coming in, the driver now having realised something was amiss.
"I'll be careful with your baby," Jimmy said.
"Watch the brakes, they're mean. So what the hell's going on?"
"You two get the hell out of here. There's a bad man coming. Run, now."
During this conversation, Maria was talking, telling him she didn't know how to drive such a vehicle. Now, Jimmy told her she'd be fine, it was an automatic, don't worry.
The other Baja churned mud and stopped. Jon jumped out and removed his helmet. "What the fuck, Mark?"
Maria stomped the accelerator and the buggy leaped like a bullet. She yelped. Jimmy was almost thrown off the back and lost the gun. The Baja built speed quickly, which made Maria moan and Louise laugh.
Ahead of them, the people carrier turned into the field. The headlights came on, full-beam. The vehicle aimed right for them.
Jimmy leaned forward and took the wheel. He kept it straight when Maria tried to turn, then at the last moment flicked it left, then right. Sensing the left, the people carrier veered to its right, Einar obviously planning a collision that would fare better for the bigger, heavier vehicle. It could not turn left quickly enough once the driver had realised Jimmy's tactic, and the Baja blew alongside, three feet between them. He saw Einar's angry face and then they were past and racing towards the exit.
***
Einar didn't stop. He drove on, towards the two lanky boys who'd been piloting the buggies. One was stood next to his own buggy, but the other, the one who'd presumably given his up to the fleeing family, rushed forward and picked up the rifle Marsh had dropped. He turned and showed it to his pal, then spun to face the oncoming vehicle again. He started waving.
Einar pretended to drive alongside, slowing down, then with just feet to go spun the wheel left, turning into the kid. The kid dropped the gun and put up both hands, as if believing he could stop the vehicle like Superman. He didn't. The people carrier struck him and he went sailing, tumbling past the other buggy. After that he lay still, bleeding from his face. The guy next to the buggy screamed and ran to him.
Einar got out and rushed to the buggy, noting that the engine was running. The other kid threw his helmet at Einar but missed. Then he was running at him, screaming about his brother, about his mum and dad. Einar raised his gun, but knew a simple threat would not suffice here. The kid was far too angry for that.
So Einar said, "Your sleeping with hot young blondes countdown has reached zero," and fired a bullet right into the kid's groin. Down he went, bloody and screaming. Smiling at his own piece of improvisation, Einar grabbed his gun from the ground and hopped into the buggy.
He was still smiling as he tore out of there. Here was some muc
h-needed excitement. Who would have thought such fun could be had on a job, and way out in the middle of nowhere?
***
Maria drove out of the shield and wanted to turn left, to head at least in the direction of London, but Jimmy grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the right.
"We have to lose ourselves," he shouted over the roaring engine.
They drove down the main road until the first turn, a left that took them along a single lane with frequent passing places. High hedges hemmed them in. Jimmy told Maria to turn one of the wing mirrors so he could see the road behind. They were travelling at almost fifty miles an hour, but were forced to slow down when the lane rounded a bend and they came upon a tractor hogging the entire width of the tarmac.
"Get off if you can," he called out.
As if by magic, a gate appeared in the right-hand hedge. It was wide open and the tractor turned in. The Baja followed, then cut alongside and overtook. Jimmy heard the tractor's driver shout something at them, but the drone of the two engines smothered his words.
They were in a field of vegetables. Long rows of green were separated by paths of dirt. The Baja rode with its wheels on the dirt, long green stalks whipping by beneath the chassis, the bumper slicing them, sending juice and shredded leaves up and into their faces. The dirt was hard, and even the Baja's flexible suspension couldn't stop the ride from becoming a jarring experience.
"We can't just drive forever," Maria moaned. Her foot slipped from the accelerator and the buggy started to slow.
"Not here," Jimmy called out. He pointed. "Behind that." She looked. There was a backhoe over to the left, next to a big, square hole that looked like the beginnings of someone's plan to build a small farmhouse or other building. Maria turned the wheel and the Baja approached the backhoe. The square hole, some ten metres across, had smooth sides lined with wooden planks and various hand tools scattered within. There was even a small foldaway table with a newspaper held in place by tea mugs. But nobody was around. Maria drove the buggy into the small space between the backhoe and the hole and stopped.
"Turn the engine off," Jimmy said as he climbed off. He approached the backhoe and stared under the curled boom, watching the gateway.
"He could come from the other side and see us sitting here," Maria said.
Jimmy ignored the remark. He watched the gate, aware that he could hear the other Baja some way off. He was regretting having taken the first exit. He would expect such a tactic from someone he was pursuing. To take immediate turns in the hope of getting out of sight and getting lost.
The tractor had stopped just inside the field and the driver was walking towards the gate. He was shutting it when Jimmy saw something red flash by the gap in the hedge. He saw the farmer raise a hand, as if waving.
Einar.
But then the buggy was past. And gone. Jimmy knelt in the dirt and continued to watch, but now he relaxed. There was nothing out here, but in a sense, with all the minor roads and fields, a person could lose themselves from a pursuer just as easily as in a bustling city like London.
"He's gone," Jimmy called out.
***
Einar loved the feel of the wind in his hair, but not on his face. At first the wind stole the terrible heat away, Then the air rushing over his skin turned colder, and finally started to burn. It chilled the blood soaking his jacket and shirt, and he started to shiver. Periodically he put a hand to his wound and wiped away the blood, but he had to then wipe his hand on his trouser leg so the blood wouldn't cause the steering wheel to slip in his grasp. In all, not a very pleasant drive out in the country.
He found the main road and turned right, figuring Marsh wouldn't head back towards London. Then a left came up and he took that, because the main road stretched ahead and made disappearing harder. Fleeing someone, you wanted corners and turns in order to stay out of sight, maximise the chances of losing them.
The single lane curved left, and up ahead curved right. But he couldn't hear another engine and started to worry that they'd taken the left turn on the main road after all, or had gone straight on past this lane. Then he blew past a gate that some rugged farmer was closing. The guy gave him the middle finger and shouted something. Despite the man's beard, Einar was able to read his lips:
YOU IDIOTS BETTER PISS OFF
Then he was past, and slamming on the brakes, turning, coming back. Idiots, as in plural. Clearly someone else in a buggy had pissed this guy off.
Einar turned off the lane and rammed the gate hard enough to knock it back into the farmer, who staggered away. He pushed against the gate again and watched it swing open. Once there was enough space to power the buggy through, Einar leapt into the field and left the farmer behind, yelling insults again.
***
Yellow Baja emerged from behind the backhoe with a whine and a spin of all four wheels. Veering left and right until it found traction, it zipped towards a dirt path separating the vegetable field from an expanse of bright yellow rapeseed. It hit the edge of the path and sailed over, submerging itself in the rapeseed and cutting a swath like clippers through blonde hair.
Red Baja followed the same path but cut the swath wider. When Yellow Baja turned sharply, Red Baja powered on a few metres before turning also.
The rapeseed continued on the other side of a river breached by a beam bridge barely wider than the buggies. Yellow Baja rattled across and onto the other side. Red Baja kept pace. Then they were into the rapeseed again.
Ahead was a dry stone wall the colour of diarrhoea. Portions had slipped and cascaded, but not enough to create any sort of ramp. Yellow Baja turned alongside, keeping parallel and hotly followed by Red Baja. Loose rocks that slipped under Yellow Baja's wheels flipped up and struck the chassis of Red Baja, forcing the driver to veer outwards and take a more distant path from the wall. The rapeseed ended when the land rose in a steep, scrubby hill terminating at a wooden post and rail fence. Yellow Baja cut through easily, sending broken planks flying into the two-lane road beyond.
The driver spun the wheel, finding the lane right in front of a coach with ANDERS TRAVEL on the side and a host of gawping faces at the windows. The driver of the coach blared his horn as his vehicle almost hit the rear of the buggy, before the smaller vehicle started to pull away.
Red Baja emerged onto the road directly behind the coach, brakes screaming. A car behind the coach hit its own brakes, but too late. The Volvo struck the buggy hard enough to slap it sideways, tearing one of the back types right off the rim as the buggy scraped along the tarmac. Red Baja darted forward and tried a sharp turn to continue the pursuit, but the tyreless wheel threw up sparks and the buggy slewed a semi-circle and stalled with its nose pointing back the way it had come. The driver slapped the wheel and cursed.
***
They made another series of turns and were zipping along a single lane road flanked by high hedges when Louise started complained about the noise of the engine. Maria stopped the buggy and mother and daughter climbed out.
"We'll walk," Maria said. She was still shaken up. So was Jimmy. Only Louise, who didn't understand the danger, seemed okay. To her it was a day out and she was enjoying it.
The road they were on had no turns, no junctions, no forks. If the killer came at them in a vehicle, they were going to be trapped. He didn't want to abandon the buggy and said so.
Maria just shook her head.
Jimmy peeled away, yanked the wheel left and drove hard into a the hedge, forcing the buggy right through and into a ploughed field. He got out, ready to head back through and onto the road, when he spotted something across the field. Beyond the tall hedge at the other end were the tops of a number of small buildings. A village. Villages were scattered around here.
"This way," he shouted. Maria looked through the gap in the hedge, saw what he was pointing at. "And we need to stay off the road."
They trudged over the turned soil. Louise kept herself entertained by trying to stay within her father's footsteps, and he made the g
ame exciting by taking big strides and veering left and right. Maria walked alongside, arms folded. She was suffering, he knew. He would make it up to her somehow.
They found a gate in the hedge and passed through, onto a main road that ran away to the left and right, fields both sides of them. But dead ahead a street leading off the main road led to the village. There was a small wooden church, a long, low building containing four shops, and a community centre, and further down a cluster of small houses made to look quainter by thatched roofs. Quickly they went down this side street, past the shops and church, towards the houses.
One of the houses had a sign above the door that said RED LION INN. A guy in a shirt and trousers sat on the front step, smoking. He stood as they approached, and his face lit up. Finally, people who might actually want to hire a room.
Jimmy spun him a story. They needed a room for one night because they had gotten off the train at the wrong stop and a car was being delivered in the morning. The landlord started to enquire about which station they'd gotten off at, but Jimmy thrust fifty pounds into his hands and said they needed a sit down and a meal. The guy stuffed the money in his pocket and half an hour later placed plates of pie and chips in front of them. They sat in a living room that the landlord had shoehorned a long dining table into. When the landlord left them alone to eat, Jimmy and Maria leaned close to whisper. Louise was busy racing condiment containers around the table, perhaps reliving the buggy chase.
"I can't take much more of this, Jimmy. We need to tell the police."
He shook his head. He had already told her the truth about himself. There was no need to pretend any more.
"The police will find out about me, Maria. Louise will be visiting me in prison. I'll still be there when she's driving down in her own car."
"It might not be like that. They might not know. They would know already, if they were going to. We can't go on like this. I can't go on like this, Jimmy. And what kind of life is it for Louise, on the run from someone all the time."
He understood. Maria's home life had been ripped apart. He was used to deadly situations, fearing for his life, worrying about imprisonment. She was not. This kind of tense atmosphere was something his mind took to easily. Hers, not.