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Back The Dead Line Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. By the Same Author
  3. Dedication Page
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Also Available by Holly Watt
  87. The Hunt and the Kill

Watch out for the quicksand. The words of the hustler on the beach ringing in her ears, Casey pushed herself off the edge.

Without a splash, the mud swallowed her up, smooth and overwhelming. Casey couldn’t kick, couldn’t swim, couldn’t float. Can’t breathe. She scrabbled for a foothold. Her legs slipped away as she lashed out. Like something living, the mud swamped her mouth and her eyes, blinding, choking, drowning her. She surfaced once into the darkness, and screamed as the mud pulled her down again.

I’m going to die.

No. No.

Yes.

Casey lashed out, the nightmare real. Thrashed around for something to grip, something to hold, anything to survive. Nothing. Her nails clawed the mud, running out of air, running out of time. Lungs screaming. Flashes before her eyes.

Her arm reached out into the night air, one last time, and someone grabbed her, and dragged her out onto the bank.

51

51

It was Ed.

Casey lay on the mud, fighting for air. Ed was lying on his back beside her, his chest heaving.

‘Thank you,’ she gasped.

He turned his head, face dark with mud. ‘No problem.’

More sounds came from the Beauvallet, and Casey was on her feet.

‘We’ve got to move.’ The panic flooded back. ‘Quickly. They’re coming.’

She took a step away from the lifeboat, and the mud dragged her down. Another step, and another, and already it was exhausting.

She forced away the horror.

‘There’s no way round the Beauvallet to that path,’ said Ed. ‘Not before those men get down the stairs. We have to try to escape down the beach.’

Beyond the Beauvallet, vast blocks of steel were scattered across the mudflat, as if by a giant’s rage. A propeller, cast away into the sand, was a colossal metal flower.

‘Here.’ Ed pulled Casey down behind a huge section of the Beauvallet’s hull. ‘Get down.’

They crouched down behind the lump of steel, and then peered back at the ship.

Men appeared at the top of the ramp leading down from the Beauvallet’s hull. They were shouting, waving torches. Casey could make out the silhouettes of Raz and Dylan.

Looking for footprints, she thought.

Unerringly, the torch beam swung round in their direction. The voices quietened.

Now the torches started towards the lifeboat, sweeping backwards and forwards over the mud as they did. They were not rushing, these men.

The lights came closer, flickering to and fro. A low call floated across the beach, met by a few sharp words.

They came nearer.

‘They’re coming for us,’ Casey gasped. ‘We can’t . . .’

‘Stay still,’ whispered Ed.

One torch beam crept closer. It flashed across the big propeller, gleamed over some old crates, and then stopped on the big chunk of hull. The torchlight shone straight into Casey’s eyes, dazzling her.

‘Run,’ Ed cried.

As soon as they moved there were bellows, and the crack of a gun.