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Back Time for the Dead Save as PDF
Chapters (94)
  1. Cover
  2. Time for the Dead
  3. Dedication page
  4. Map
  5. Epigraph page
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. Epilogue
  92. Acknowledgements
  93. About the Author
  94. By Lin Anderson

She smiled as he stepped forward confidently into the trap she had laid for him.

72

‘Blaze. Here to me. Here to me.’

Rhona knew her voice sounded desperate, because she was.

It had been a self-indulgent move to come here and bring the dog. Trying to prove herself right. Trying to pretend she was back on the job. That her decisions were logical and properly thought through.

‘Blaze,’ she tried again.

‘There,’ Alvis said. ‘Quiet, Rhona, listen.’

She did. Nothing at first, then . . .

‘He’s barking.’ Alvis confirmed what Rhona thought she’d heard. ‘He’s below us somewhere.’

They were at least a couple of yards from the edge. Because of the ins and outs of the rock face, you could be well back, then suddenly much closer, and in the fading light it had been getting more difficult to make the necessary judgements, even with their head torches.

‘We should get down flat,’ Alvis urged. ‘There’s a gully. I think Blaze is down there.’

Rhona removed her backpack and lay flat. The surface was grassy, wet and no doubt slippery. She could hear the sound of falling water above the rising wind. Somewhere out ahead of them, she spotted the lights of a boat.

The barking had become fainter or the dog had stopped alerting them to his presence. Rhona, trying not to imagine why that might be, crept ever closer to the edge. Now her torch picked out the gully Alvis had suggested was there. It dropped swiftly and deeply, as an underground stream emerged to find itself suddenly exposed to the air, before it plunged over the cliff face.

In the moving circle of her head torch, Rhona couldn’t identify anything that looked like the big collie.

He’s black, with only a little white, she told herself. It doesn’t mean he’s not there.

Swinging round, her torch now found Alvis much closer to the edge than she was comfortable with.

‘Can you see him?’ she said.

‘I think he’s maybe reached the beach,’ Alvis told her. ‘He’s not on the ledge, and if he’s as sure-footed as Donald says, he will have found a way down.’

Alvis sounded surer than Rhona could persuade herself to believe.

‘What do we do now?’

‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Alvis said, ‘until it’s light. I can lower you down there as soon as we can see well enough to do that.’

‘But what if Blaze is hurt?’

Alvis didn’t respond, because it was a question he couldn’t answer. Not in any way that would make either of them feel any better.

Instead he said, ‘Let’s get the tent up, and we need to get back from the edge unless we want to be blown over.’