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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

In this light diagnosis was impossible, but when McNab had seen him earlier, the guy had been alert and requesting money. Not any more. So maybe this was a distribution point. Maybe that was why Malky had been there.

McNab, noting the tail of the sleeping bag was getting soaked by the rain, stooped to move it back under the overhang. As he did so, a metal tag on a chain jingled onto the cobbles.

He picked it up and read it.

Now he knew the blood group, service number, surname, initials and even the religion of the poor bastard who lay comatose at his feet. The tag felt wet. In the darkness he assumed it was the rain, then his fingers told him a different story.

McNab hunkered down for a closer look, the soles of his shoes now turning the same red colour.

Fuck!

The guy wasn’t in la-la land after all, he was checking out of this life as quickly as the blood that flowed from his body.

One-handed, his other pressing on the knife wound, McNab was calling 999 as Ellie’s face appeared in the doorway.

‘Get me towels, cloths, anything to stem the bleeding,’ he told her. ‘And make it quick.’

Saying nothing, but her own face drained of colour, she disappeared without a word, to reappear with a bundle of cloths.

‘They’re clean,’ she told him.

‘Get down here,’ he ordered. ‘Be ready when I lift my hand.’

She did as told. As he eased his hold, McNab felt the gush of escaping blood before he clamped his hand back down again, this time with the benefit of the wad of material.

A couple of faces appeared at the doorway, one of them the young guy that had served McNab earlier.

‘Shut the fucking door,’ McNab said. ‘And keep your mouth shut or we’ll have the hordes out here to gawk at the poor bastard.’

They took him at his word and closed the fire door.

‘What if the ambulance doesn’t get here in time?’ Ellie said, her face creased in concern.

‘Then he dies,’ McNab said bluntly.

Kneeling down beside him, Ellie asked what had happened.

‘I followed the tattooed guy from the pool table out here, and found this one lying comatose. I thought he was high until I spotted the blood.’

Ellie was examining their patient’s face more closely.

‘D’you know him?’ McNab said.

‘He has a spot at House of Fraser’s steps. I chat to him sometimes.’

‘And give him money?’ McNab demanded. ‘To buy his next fix?’

Ellie drew away a little, annoyed by his tone. ‘He was a soldier. Fought in Iraq and Afghanistan. It fucked him up. Being on the front line does that to people,’ she said, her eyes staring pointedly at McNab.