Paul Kane - Arrowhead

He dragged Mary down the rear set of steps, disappearing from sight. Robert skirted around the side of the platform, missing only a few moments. But by the time he rounded it, De Falaise and Mary were almost at the farthest end of the lawn; almost at a truck parked there.

"You've got to let her go to climb inside, you bastard," said Robert under his breath.

But De Falaise managed to keep Mary in front of him as he got into the cab of the truck, sitting her on his knee. The engine started up, the vehicle shuddering.

"Damn it! Jack… Jack, get Mark off the platform – right now!" Robert kept a bead on the vehicle as it powered towards them, but also kept an eye on what was happening on the gallows. Jack had managed to drag Mark to the edge and then over it, both of them tumbling off the right hand side of the platform. The truck clipped the left hand side, ramming through it, just missing Bill and a prone auburn-haired woman. Robert barely had time to dive out of the way, rolling as the truck tipped over the incline and drove down past the helicopter, scattering people as it went.

Robert raised his head in time to see the truck power through the devastated side gate and out onto the street.

His eyes flicked back to the helicopter, its rotor still turning. "Bill…" he called out on his way over to the man. "Are you in a fit state to fly?"

"Does it bloody well look like it?" Bill replied, nursing his wound. "Judas fucking Priest, I can't even get up!" He thumbed back towards the helicopter. "And I doubt if she will, neither."

Robert ground his teeth. The truck could be heading in any direction, even if he could get to a jeep or truck in time to follow. The helicopter was the only option if he was to find De Falaise and stop him.

Bow in hand, he began down the path, ignoring the calls from Bill and Jack.

What are you doing? What exactly are you doing, Robert? he asked himself. He couldn't fly, not even with a chopper that was in any fit state to get off the ground. Robert knew all this and still he had to try.

It was Mary's only hope. God alone knew what would happen to her once she no longer served her purpose as a hostage. That lunatic De Falaise…

He tried not to think about it as he threw the bow into the cockpit, then climbed in himself. Closing his eyes he visualised what Bill had done before take off, remembered what he'd said about lightness of touch.

With one hand on the collective and one hand on the cyclic, he attempted his first ever take off.

For long moments nothing happened, and Robert wondered if this was because of the state of the battered machine. But then, all of a sudden, and with a lot of mental encouragement from its pilot, the Sioux lifted a few feet off the ground.

"At-a-girl," said Robert, coaxing more height from her. Once he was high enough to make it over the castle entrance, he pushed the chopper forward, practically kangarooing it, bouncing onto the other side. It would never get up to the height it had before, but Robert was hoping he could get at least high enough to see where the truck was going.

As he lifted away, he saw the devastation of the battle he was leaving behind. His men were pretty much mopping up, and those soldiers who were left were surrendering in droves since De Falaise had cut and run. There would be time for sorting all that out later – time to find out how Mark was later. Right now, all he could think about was getting Mary safely back.

Wake up Moo-Moo – you're in serious trouble. Even worse than the last time.

She heard David's voice rousing her, but it seemed so far away.

Moo-Moo, please wake up. The Sheriff has you as a hostage. You're driving through the streets of Nottingham in an army truck and when you get far enough away he's just going to kill you and dump you. Moo-Moo, are you listening to me! Mary! MARY!

That did it. David very rarely called her by her proper name, only when he was angry with her about something. Right now, that would appear to be because she was going to die. Mary opened her eyes a fraction, looking to the side. She saw De Falaise in his dress uniform, hunched over the wheel of the truck. A knife was buried in his leg, but he didn't seem in any rush to take it out. Beyond him she saw buildings going by. He took a right at speed, almost causing the truck to tip over. It was all Mary could do to keep quiet.

Good, said David. He still thinks you're out of it, so there's no reason for him to question otherwise, is there? He also thinks you're unarmed. Oh God, Moo-Moo, however did you get yourself into this mess? Because you thought you felt something for someone you hardly even know? Because you always said to yourself even though you were hiding away that one day the perfect man would come along and you'd know it instantly?

Mentally, she told him to shut up. Mary needed to concentrate, which wasn't easy when you were pretty sure your nose was broken and your head was splitting. She waited, watching De Falaise through the slits of her barely open eyes. Waited for him to turn the wheel again, so that she could use it as a cover to flop a hand below the seat. Then, with his attention still on the road, she reached that hand up behind her, reaching under the bottom of Robert's hooded top, reaching for the Peacemaker she had tucked away there, hidden in the folds.

She wasn't expecting to still have the gun by this late stage in the game – just how stupid were the soldiers under the Frenchman's command? – but then she wasn't expecting to fight De Falaise, get knocked senseless, and get dragged along for the ride in his mad dash for freedom.

And he was mad, no mistake about that. As Mary and the others had suspected all along, this guy was a total loon, playing out his fantasies of being a dictator in a world where he thought nobody could stop him.

He was wrong.

Mary had her fingers curled around the handle of the gun, her thumb ready to cock it. She wasn't thinking about what would happen once she'd shot him, whether he'd crash the truck and kill them both, she just wanted to end this right here and right now.

"Merde!" She flinched at De Falaise's raised voice, thinking that he must have noticed what she was up to. But he had caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye in the wing mirror. Something following them. Mary could just about make out the shape of the vehicle from her angle – but it didn't look like any car or jeep or truck she'd ever come across. "The cretin does not know when to give in. But I will show him."

"Robert," she whispered, too quietly to be heard.

Yes, said David. He's come for you, Moo-Moo. He's come for you. Perhaps you were right after all.

De Falaise stamped on the brakes, sending her back into her seat as the low-flying helicopter crashed into their rear.

Robert grappled with the controls. It was taking all his effort and concentration just to keep the Sioux several metres off the ground, but it had done its job – got him high enough to pinpoint where De Falaise was going, heading blindly towards the market square. Then, having little choice in the matter, he brought the damaged chopper back down to hover as near to the ground as he could. The landing gear scraped the road, causing sparks.

Knowing De Falaise's direction helped Robert to take a short cut, emerging from one street just in time to see the truck go by. He was then in full pursuit.

Robert kept just a little way back, trying to hide behind the vehicle and hoping that the Sheriff wouldn't see him. But it had to happen eventually, and so Robert found himself having to pull on the collective control quickly, as the truck braked, slamming into the front of the helicopter. Then it rose, groaning in protest, but just about made it above the height of the truck, settling down on top of it as it accelerated again.