Shaun Harbinger: Rain

“Why are you showing me the map? I’ll just follow you.”

“In case you fall too far behind and lose us. Now you know where we’re going.”

His directions and random pointing at the map hadn’t told me anything. “You could just slow down a little,” I whispered.

“No way, man. You try to keep up. This is good for you, Alex. The military come here all the time. This is where the SAS train.”

As if on cue, an army helicopter flew overhead. Couldn’t they take me to the Cribyn or whatever the hell it was called and drop me off there? I wouldn’t mind waiting while Mike and the girls caught up. I’d even try to set up the tents.

“I’m not a soldier,” I said. “I thought this was supposed to be enjoyable, not a military exercise.”

Mike stowed the mugs in his backpack and stood up. “Just pretend it’s Call of Duty,” he said, hefting the pack onto his back and adjusting the straps. “You can keep up if you try harder, Alex.”

The girls got ready to leave with Mike. I scrambled to my feet. My legs protested but I tried to ignore the ache in my muscles. Keeping up with the group would be difficult but getting lost out here in the middle of nowhere, especially when it got dark, would be a nightmare. I doubted I could survive a night wandering around the mountains.

“Everyone ready?” Mike asked. “Let’s go.”

He took off like a mountain goat across the rocks.

The girls joined him and I followed along. At least I had a pretty good view walking behind the girls.

We descended a steep jumble of rocks then found a path that led up to the summit of Pen y Fan. My three non-companions hit their stride again and powered ahead.

I slowed down. There was no point trying to keep up and my legs screamed in pain with every step. I unzipped my jacket and reached into the inside pocket. I had my portable digital radio in there along with a Twix bar.

Unravelling the headphone wire and pushing the buds into my ears, I switched on the radio. At least I could have some music to take my mind off the ache in my legs. I could have listened to music from my phone but I didn’t want to run the battery down so I had turned it off after unsuccessfully trying to call Mike earlier.

I unwrapped the Twix and bit off a mouthful. The sweet caramel taste seemed amplified out here in the wild. It was probably because I hadn’t eaten since we left the cars hours ago. The sweetness seemed to explode in my mouth.

The radio was nowhere near as satisfying. Instead of music, all I got was a news broadcast and the signal kept cutting out. As I trudged up the path, I tried to make out what the woman was saying.

“Department of Health issued a warning after…at the Royal London Hospital…virus strain that…previously unknown…a doctor has been quarantined…no danger to the public.”

I flicked the radio off, disconnected it from the headphones, and stuffed it back into my pocket. Leaving the headphones in my ears, I jacked them into my phone and turned it on, finding an AC/DC album on my playlist. Screw the battery; I needed some distraction from this hell.

Trying to let my awareness of the rock music override the awareness of my aching legs, I strode on along the trail, leaving the shadowy figures of the other hikers behind me in the mist.

The driving rock beat helped me forget the pain in my legs for a while, or at least endure it. It lifted my spirits. Took me away from the misty damp reality of the mountains. I decided that I was going to talk to Lucy tonight. To hell with it.

What did I have to lose?

This was already the worst Saturday of my life.

It couldn’t get any worse.

I reached the top of Pen y Fan. Nothing spectacular, just more rocks and a cairn to mark the pinnacle. I looked for the path down the other side and found it easily. Things were looking up despite the fact I couldn’t see Mike and the girls anywhere. Going down the mountain was much easier than going up even though my feet ached. I couldn’t wait to get my boots off later. As unappealing as the tent sounded, compared to this endless trudging it would be luxurious.

A noise in the mist brought me to a halt.

I heard it over my music. It had been loud. Like someone falling over.

I took off my headphones and listened.

Another noise. It sounded like a growl.

It couldn’t be. There weren’t any dangerous animals up here.

What about a dog? Maybe some idiot hiker had brought a Doberman up here and let it off the leash.

The growl reached me again. Low, guttural.

I swallowed.

If it was a dog, surely the owner was around somewhere. Maybe that was who had fallen over.

I heard movement. To my right. It didn’t sound like a dog. Not unless dogs wore padded jackets and carried rucksacks and walked in boots.

It was a hiker.

Maybe it was the owner looking for his dog.

So why wasn’t he calling for it?

I heard another noise, behind me this time. A group of hikers coming down the trail, chatting and laughing. Maybe they would know how to deal with a dangerous dog.

The growl came again.

Then a quick movement. A man. Coming out of the mist.

His face. Oh God, his face!

He reached out for me with both hands, his yellow eyes looking like pure evil. His skin was blue, mottled, disgusting. Pure instinct sent me running backwards away from him, dodging his flailing arms.

The heel of my boot connected with a rock.

I tried to regain my balance.

Fell.

Hit the grass.

Air rushed out of my lungs in an explosion.

My vision filled with sky and dirt.

Tumbling.

I scrambled to my feet, stifling the cry that rose in my throat. I didn’t know how far I’d rolled down the mountain but I wasn’t going to wait around for that crazy guy to come down after me. I ran.

Not strictly true. It was impossible to run because of the steepness of the slope. I loped down the trail, letting gravity speed me up. Not too fast. I couldn’t risk hurtling down the mountain.

There were no sounds behind me. All I could hear was my own breathing. I sounded like a panting dog. What if he heard me?

Maybe those other hikers would deal with him.

Or maybe he would deal with them. He looked crazy. Murderous.

I should call someone. Mountain Rescue. The Police.

Turning off the music on my phone, I tried to decide what to do. I didn’t even know the number for Mountain Rescue and what would I tell the police?

I called Mike. Luckily I got a signal.

“Hey, Alex.”

“Mike, where are you? I… I don’t know what’s happening. I just got attacked by some… someone.”

“Hey, slow down, man. Are you OK?”

“I don’t know. Yeah, I think so. I got away.”

I heard him tell Elena and Lucy, “Alex got attacked by somebody.”

Then Lucy’s voice came sweetly into my ear. “Tell him we’ll wait for him.”

“Yeah, we’ll wait for you, man. We can’t be too far ahead of you. We’ll wait here until you catch up.”

I hung up and put the phone away. I wasn’t in the mood for music anymore and I couldn’t risk not hearing that mad hiker if he was still coming after me. I glanced back up along the trail. Nothing but mist.

Then a shout. A scream. A roar of anger.

I fled as fast as I could.

I hit level ground and kept running across the grass. My lungs burned. Tears streamed out of my eyes and I wasn’t sure if I was crying or if the exertion was making them water. My mind was filled with pure panic. He had found the hikers behind me up there. Killed them. Surely the sounds of screaming meant he was killing them. And when he was done, would he come down after me?

Three shapes appeared in the mist ahead of me. I slowed down and approached carefully. What if that madman wasn’t alone? What if there was a cult of killers? I had seen that on a TV show I couldn’t remember the name of right now. If there were three of them, I had no chance. I couldn’t run anymore. I was done.