BooksBarbecue
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

Clio was looking round the cockpit, eyes vacant. With an immense effort, her eyes found Casey’s face again.

‘I should have surrendered.’ Clio tried to focus on Casey. ‘But we never give up, do we?’

‘Clio . . .’

‘I’m dying, aren’t I?’ Clio tried to smile, almost matter-of-fact.

‘An ambulance is coming,’ Casey whispered. ‘Hold on. It’s coming.’

Casey tore at the shreds of her jersey, trying to make it into a pad for Clio’s head, the handcuffs impeding every movement.

‘It’ll be here in just a second, Clio. Just hang on.’

But Clio’s eyes were looking past her, and it was as if the whole field were filled with old friends.

‘To life,’ she whispered.

And Clio died then, her face tipped up to the sky, the light going out of her eyes.

77

77

‘Come away, Casey.’ Miranda was tugging at her arm, pulling her away from the ruins of the airplane. ‘You can’t help her any more.’

Slowly, Casey let Miranda lead her away, tears spilling from her eyes.

‘We have to go.’ As Miranda spoke Casey tried to concentrate on her words. ‘We have to get out of here, Casey.’

‘But’ – Casey was hazy, eyes wavering around the field – ‘I can’t . . .’

‘We have to get back to Dominic Burton-Smith,’ Miranda said evenly. ‘The ambulance is coming. The police won’t be far behind. And the air-accidents people, too. We can’t stay here.’

But Casey was staring at Miranda, her eyes haunted. ‘How did we end up here, Miranda? How?’

Miranda looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘All this.’ Casey gestured. ‘Sir William Cavendish, Gabriel Bantham, the Burton-Smiths. This whole trail of destruction . . .’

‘You know why we did it,’ Miranda said carefully. ‘To stop Greystone. To stop Clio.’

‘But . . .’ Casey’s head hurt. ‘All this . . .’

‘The end justifies the means,’ said Miranda briskly. ‘You know that.’

‘But does it?’ said Casey. ‘Always? We go from life to life, hurling grenades. And then we just walk away.’

‘It’s our job to walk away,’ Miranda said, and Casey stared at her.

‘But how?’

Miranda put her hand on Casey’s arm. ‘Come on. We can talk later. We need to go . . .’

‘What gives us the right?’ Casey heard Clio’s echo.

‘What gives anyone the right?’ said Miranda.

The birds were singing in the trees, louder now.

‘There’s a video back at the house,’ said Casey. ‘The Burton-Smiths accusing us both of blackmail. You and me. And Emily filmed me. In the hotel.’

Miranda hesitated. ‘The police may never find it,’ she said. ‘And even if they do, the only way to fight blackmail is to be bold. Face the threat. Then it loses all its power.’

‘Maybe. Not always.’

‘We have to go,’ Miranda said again.

‘But we can’t just go.’ Casey pulled away. ‘We can’t leave her . . .’

She stepped away, stood staring at the wreckage.