Ли Чайлд - Past Tense

She looked away.

‘Interesting,’ Karel said. ‘Is he back there for a reason?’

She didn’t answer.

He smiled under his glassy snout.

Wide and delighted.

He said, ‘Is he wounded?’

No reply.

‘This is exciting,’ he said. ‘You’re out gathering roots and berries, to make a potion, to heal your man. You’re worried. You’re anxious to get back. This is a truly delightful situation. You and I are going to have so much fun.’

‘I was looking for a quad bike,’ she said.

‘No point,’ he said. ‘My truck is parked in the way. No one gets out of here before me. I ain’t dumb.’

He lowered his aim.

To her legs.

‘No,’ she said.

‘No what?’

‘Yes, Shorty was wounded. Now I need to get back to him.’

‘How bad was he wounded?’

‘Pretty bad. I think his thigh bone is broken.’

‘Shame,’ Karel said.

‘I need to go see him now.’

‘The game says freedom of movement depends on not getting tagged.’

‘Please,’ she said.

‘Please what?’

‘I don’t like the game.’

‘But I do.’

‘I think we should quit. It has gotten way out of hand.’

‘No, I think it has gotten to the good part.’

Patty didn’t speak again. She just stood there, with her flashlight in one hand and her arrow in the other. It was the working flashlight, not even the weapon. The arrow would be good for slashing or stabbing, but the guy was ten feet away. Out of range.

He drew back the string an extra inch. The arrowhead moved backward, the same inch, towards his hand, clenched tight around the grip. The bow curved harder. It sang with tension.

It was the working flashlight .

All in one movement she dropped the arrow and found the switch and lit up the beam. It was like she remembered, from the first time, checking on the Honda’s heater hoses. A bright white beam of light, hard and focused. She aimed it right at the guy. At his face. At his big glass eye. She lit it up and pinned it down. He flinched away and his arrow fired wide and low and thrashed through the undergrowth and thumped in the ground. He ducked and squirmed and twisted. She chased him with the beam of light, like a physical weapon, jabbing, thrusting, aiming always for his face. He fell to the ground and rolled over and tore the machine off his head.

She switched off the flashlight and ran through the trees.

PATTY KNEW RUNNING would turn out either smart or dumb, depending on whether Karel caught her or not. Simple as that. At first she was hopeful. She was running well, and she figured he might be slow to get going. He might worry a little about an ambush up ahead, with the beam of light. Like a space movie on Shorty’s TV.

Then, bad news. She heard crashing feet behind her. Getting closer. She darted right and changed direction. Karel was slower to turn. She got ahead of him. He caught up again. He got to where he was just behind her. Up ahead in the bouncing night vision she saw the track. Coming up. Closer and closer. Bright and clear. She was running towards it at an angle. There were crashing feet behind her. She burst out on the track. Karel burst out after her. He planted his feet. He raised his bow.

They were lit up by headlight beams. Amplified twenty thousand times. Like atom bombs. They ducked away. Karel flipped up his tube. Patty tore the whole apparatus off her head. The world went dark, except the car. The black Mercedes. All lit up. Slowing down. Mark at the wheel. He came to a stop. He opened the door. He got out. He stayed away from the headlights. He stepped forward in the shadows.

Karel raised his bow again.

He aimed the arrow at Patty.

But he spoke to Mark.

He said, ‘What’s on fire up there?’

Mark paused a beat.

‘Everything’s on fire,’ he said. ‘We’re in a whole new ball game now.’

‘We?’

‘You’re kind of involved. Wouldn’t you say? People have died. This is going to be no stone unturned. We should get out. Right this minute. Just you and me. We need to do it, Karel. The pressure will be heavy duty. We might not survive it if we stay.’

‘Just you and me?’

‘You’re my number one draft pick. The others are useless. They’re a burden. You know that.’

Karel didn’t answer.

Mark said, ‘We don’t have much time.’

‘We have plenty,’ Karel said. ‘The night is still young. We can’t be disturbed. No one can get in.’

‘We need to talk about that. Really we need to move your truck right now.’

‘Why?’

‘A tactical thing. An in-game adjustment.’

‘We don’t need a tactical in-game adjustment. Not now. Not any more. Shorty is wounded, and I got Patty right here. The game is over.’

‘OK, shoot her and then let’s get going.’

‘I would want to go finish Shorty first.’

‘You’re stalling.’

‘What?’

‘Do you even have the key?’

‘What key?’

‘The key to the truck,’ Mark said. ‘Where is it?’

‘What kind of question is that? My truck is worth a lot of money.’

Mark nodded.

‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘I’m your best friend, worried on your behalf. I hope you didn’t leave the key on your nightstand. If you did, you better call a tow truck. For your tow truck. The motel burned down. That was the first thing on fire up there.’

‘I got the key right here,’ Karel said. ‘It’s in my pocket.’

‘Good to know,’ Mark said. He moved the long black gun out from behind his leg, and he shot Karel four times, all in the rib cage under the arm that was holding the bow.

The gunshots were loud but dull.

The long tube on the front was a silencer, Patty thought.

Karel went down on the track, in a sudden buckling heap, with the hiss of nylon, and the clatter of his bow, and the crack of his head on the blacktop.

Mark turned the gun on Patty.

He said, ‘Go get the key out his pocket.’

Patty paused a beat, and then got right to it. She felt she had done worse, pulling the arrow out of Shorty’s leg. The key was warm. It was no bigger than the Honda’s.

‘Throw it over here,’ Mark said.

‘Then you’ll shoot me,’ she said.

‘I could shoot you any time. I could take the key from your cold dead hand. I’m not squeamish.’

She threw the key.

It landed at his feet.

He said, ‘How bad is Shorty?’

‘Pretty bad,’ she said.

‘Can he move?’

‘His leg is broken.’

‘I think you and I might be the last two standing,’ Mark said. ‘And I have to say poor old Shorty is shit out of luck with me. I’m certainly not going back to help him. He can stay where he is, as far as I’m concerned.’

Patty said nothing.

‘Purely as a matter of interest, how long do you think he would survive?’

Patty didn’t answer.

‘I want to know,’ Mark said. ‘Seriously. Let’s work it out. What is it, five days without water, and five weeks without food? Except he’s not feeling great to begin with.’

‘I’ll go help him,’ Patty said.

‘Suppose you couldn’t. I guess he could try to crawl his way out, but he must be dehydrating fast and feeling weak by now. Crawling might increase the risk of infection. And it would certainly increase his exposure to predators. Some of those critters like to chew on an open wound.’

‘Let me go help him.’

‘No, I think he should be left on his own right now.’

‘Why do you even care? You said you were only catering to other people’s grubby desires. The other people are out of the picture now. So you’re done. Take the key and move the truck and get out of here. Leave us alone.’