Glynn stopped coughing and turned away from the helicopter. From his position on the ground, he could see three or four bodies underneath the cabin, and none of them showed signs of life. He moved backwards, on all fours, and his foot hit something hard. He stared at it before realising that it was one of the helicopter blades. It was stuck out of the ground, like a great knife which had cut through the landscape angrily. The cloud lifted and he saw it was fully intact, and it was enormous. He shuddered. Then he heard more moaning. A child was face down, pinned by some wreckage that he didn’t recognise. It wasn’t a blade, but it didn’t matter. Thoughts of blades cutting down whatever was in their path flew through his head but he ignored them and pushed them away. His recognition of helicopter parts at this precise moment in time really didn’t matter, and he almost laughed at his own wild thoughts. The child whimpered. She was seriously hurt and he crawled to her and held her hand. He lay next to her and tried to assess where she’d been hurt. She was covered in blood and dirt, but he had no idea where her injuries were.

‘Look at me. What is your name?’ he asked her. Her lips trembled and her face was screwed in pain. He smiled and stroked her hair. Her legs were stuck in the earth. He had no idea how they’d got like that but they just disappeared into the mud. He held her.

‘What is your name? Mine is Glynn,’ he said.

‘Andrea,’ she said.

‘I’ll stay with you, Andrea, don’t be afraid. Help will come soon, I promise,’ he said.

Chapter 9

‘My car is closest,’ Kelly said.

Johnny didn’t argue. Now wasn’t the time to question who might drive, and which route they might take.

The crash was all over the news already, but Kelly had real-time access to the police radio and the events unfolding as they happened on the mountainside. The media was way behind. No one from the emergency services had managed to get up there yet and, as in any disaster scenario, they’d rely on civilian actions before anyone with training got to the scene. It would be hell up there.

‘Let me drive, you get changed first,’ he said.

She nodded. Rushing to the boot, she grabbed what she’d need for an afternoon, and potentially a night, on Scafell Pike. It was crazy. They were miles away. But they both knew that they had to do something. They were both trained in high-level first aid, one step down from a paramedic, and it would be vital to get as many helping hands up there as possible. Landing helicopters in such conditions was a tricky affair, but the local Great North Air Ambulance crews were supremely talented.