Стивен Бут - Fall Down Dead

‘Liam!’ she called, her voice cracking on the second syllable. ‘Pat! Sam! This way! We’re over here!’

And then the others began to shout too. The taboo had been broken, the inviolable stillness already shattered by her nervous, wavering cry.

Was that an answering call from deep in the mist? A male voice, she felt sure. Then a second shout, getting nearer. The group redoubled their efforts.

‘This way! Over here!’

The group around Sophie shifted uneasily as a muffled, rhythmic thudding penetrated the silence. Something was coming towards them and getting closer. A curious rustling and a deep panting, like a mysterious beast that existed only in the fog.

At last a figure erupted from the mist, a burst of vibrant orange like a warning signal. Sam Warburton, hobbling up the path as fast as he could go, his rucksack bouncing awkwardly on his shoulders. Sophie could hear his breath rasping in his chest before he got within fifty yards.

‘Sam, what’s wrong? Where’s Pat?’ said Sophie.

Warburton couldn’t get his breath. He staggered as he reached them, and Sophie stretched out a hand to support him. His eyes were panicky, and his chest rose and fell under his waterproof jacket. He was sweating despite the chill in the air, a sheen of perspiration on his forehead and trickling in glittering beads from his temples. His waterproof gleamed with water too. It was as if the mist had settled on him, soaking him with its insidious dankness.

Sophie glanced at the rest of the group. All of them were wet. She’d underestimated the degree of moisture in the atmosphere. This wasn’t just a light mist. They were actually walking through a raincloud.

‘He fell,’ gasped Sam. ‘Liam — he had an accident. He slipped on a wet rock. He’s sprained his ankle, I think, or maybe it’s broken. I can’t tell. He’s in a lot of pain, though.’

Sophie realised that the yelp she’d heard a few minutes ago must have been human. She’d pictured an animal, but instead she’d heard a man’s cry of pain as he became a victim of the moor.

‘Can you lead us back to where he is?’ asked Darius.

Sam looked over his shoulder, an expression of doubt crossing his face.

‘Of course,’ he said, trying to sound confident. ‘We just have to go downhill, don’t we?’

‘What are we going to do when we get there if he’s injured?’ said Nick.

‘Well, I don’t think he’ll be able to walk,’ said Sam.

‘We need to call for help, then.’

‘I’ve tried my phone. I’ve got no signal.’

‘Me neither,’ said Faith, tapping at her phone. ‘We must be in a dead spot.’

After a few minutes of almost aimless stumbling among the rocks, they found an anxious-looking Pat Warburton standing over Liam Sharpe. He lay between two boulders, clutching his leg, his face twisted in pain.

Sophie gazed around the faces of the group, seeking some sign of initiative but seeing only uncertainty. They stood helplessly, their clothes glistening with moisture from the fog, as useless as just one more rock formation frozen in the landscape.

‘Someone should go for help,’ said Darius. He turned to Nick. ‘Find a place on the moor where there’s a signal and call 999 for an ambulance.’

‘How the hell is an ambulance going to get all the way up here?’ said Nick.

‘I don’t know. There must be ways of getting casualties off the moors. A helicopter or something. Go and call.’

‘A helicopter won’t land in these conditions. They won’t be able to see anything. The visibility is too bad.’

‘Why are you still talking about it?’ demanded Darius, glaring at Nick. ‘Just go.’

Nick looked around for support. His eyes met Sophie’s. For a moment, she felt the old closeness between them, which had been drifting away in the chilly air.

‘I’ll come with you, Nick,’ said Sophie. ‘You shouldn’t be on your own out there, in case something else happens.’

Nick nodded and smiled, and held out his hand to support her as she moved towards him over the muddy ground.

Then Theo Gould stepped forward. ‘And we’ll come too. Strength in numbers and all that.’

‘Good,’ said Nick. ‘Besides, we might have different networks on our phones. I’m EE.’

‘My brother and I are both on Vodafone,’ said Gould.

‘I think—’ began Faith doubtfully.

‘Never mind,’ interrupted Sophie. ‘The sooner we get going the better.’

‘Should we go downhill, then? Towards the valley?’

‘Since we’re lost, we won’t know whether we’re going down into the valley or just into another clough with an even bigger hill on the other side.’

‘We’ll just have to try.’

The four of them stood up to leave.

‘And we’ll go another way,’ said Darius.

Nick stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Well, if we’re splitting it up anyway, it would give us a better chance of getting help if we try both directions.’

‘What do you mean, “both directions”? We’re in the middle of the plateau. There are dozens of directions to take.’

Darius looked unfazed. ‘We could try that way.’

He pointed into the fog as if he knew what lay out there, beyond the few feet of visibility.

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea, Darius,’ said Faith.

‘There haven’t been any good ideas from anyone so far, except me.’

Duncan Gould turned towards him.

‘If you find yourself heading onto the plateau, watch out for the lighter-green patches of vegetation,’ he said. ‘That’s wet bog.’

‘We’ll bear it in mind. Elsa will come with me, of course. And Millie and Karina?’

The two girls moved to stand with Darius. The Warburtons hesitated for a moment, then looked at each other and joined Sophie’s party, physically splitting the group into two factions.

‘I’m staying with Liam anyway,’ said Faith.

‘Of course.’ Darius sounded unreasonably relieved, as if that solved everything. ‘You’re a nurse, aren’t you?’

‘It just makes sense for me to be the one who stays.’

In the background, Jonathan had been leaning idly against a rock, as if he’d just paused for a rest or to admire the scenery. He began to sing quietly to himself.

‘Will you shut up, idiot?’ snapped Nick.

Sophie stared at him in surprise. He was in such a bad mood today. It was becoming more and more common. What was making him so tetchy?

‘Whoa,’ said Darius, raising a hand like an Old Testament prophet. ‘Let’s not get agitated, folks. We’re in this together, and we’ll sort it out together. One big family, right?’

He laughed, and Nick scowled at him.

‘You know, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to split up,’ said Sam Warburton.

Darius snorted. ‘We’re a bit past that now. You should have thought of it before you trailed behind and lost contact with the group.’

‘It wasn’t our fault,’ said Sam. ‘You left us behind.’

‘I said we should wait for you,’ muttered Nick.

Darius threw back his head and stamped on a lump of peat, which splatted with a loud squelch. ‘Will you all stop arguing about it? Are we going to go for help or not?’

A groan of pain from Liam seemed to settle the discussion. The Goulds and Warburtons began to move away, heading for small tracks that seemed to lead down through the groughs. To Sophie’s amazement, Nick didn’t move.

‘What is it?’ she said.

He didn’t meet her eye. ‘I think I’d better go with Darius’s group.’

She stared at him. What had happened during the last few minutes to change his mind? She couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t the time to argue, though.

‘Whatever you think best.’

Pat Warburton was calling back to her.