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The rubble of the mansion’s broken wall shifted. A stone pinged lightly on the ground beside Martin as Shona and Davy followed him out. Martin picked up a hefty stone and indicated to Shona and Davy to do the same. They couldn’t get out of this without weapons, but whatever happened, they must be quiet. He turned and placed his forefinger over his lips, directing his gaze to Davy.
Davy nodded and held up the fist-sized piece of masonry he’d chosen. Martin lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Shona showed her decent-sized chunk of stone.
Martin stepped to the end of the building and poked his head around the corner. Cigarette smoke hit his nostrils and he caught his breath. Then he inhaled deeply, momentarily savouring an old friend. A glance told him two guards were at the back door, their shadows cast long in the light spilling from the door’s transom window. Martin pulled back and faced Shona and Davy and held up two fingers, then ushered them back a couple of steps.
“You stay here,” Martin whispered. “I’m going to cause a disturbance. When you hear the guards leave, run for the trees on the opposite side of the driveway, then head down the side road. Stay in the cover of the forest ’till I get there. Okay?”
Shona nodded slowly; her brow knotted. Davy took a breath. Martin shook his head and placed his hand over Davy’s mouth.
“Just do it!” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Run when you can, okay?”
They both nodded, wide-eyed and hands trembling.
Martin ran along the back of the house, his trousers tugging at his newly formed scabs. He picked up some smaller masonry when he reached the pile he’d made just over a fortnight ago, and ducked under windows even though the lights were out. No sound came from inside the mansion as he skirted its perimeter. Good, all were asleep—maybe.
A breeze stirred the trees at the front of the house. Martin took a breath. He could taste the salt in the air tonight. They were nearer to the coast than he had first estimated. He glanced to his right at the grey body of water they would head for. Kirkaldy and the Firth of Forth was that way. And help. He scuttered along to the far corner. The guard’s voices mumbled low through the night air.
Martin threw the smallest of his rocks as far as he could toward the road at the front of the house. He stifled a gasp as his shirt, which had stuck to his back, ripped off more scabs. The stone clattered on the bitumen, then guards stopped talking. They resumed their discussion after a moment’s silence. Martin threw another stone, aiming closer to the front fence. No conversation again, then footsteps approached. Martin’s heart pounded, and his scalp cooled with his gathering sweat.
He had two chances. The first would be a surprise. The second...well, he’d spent the rest of his time in his safe place, while enduring his beating, recounting his Tae Kwon Do kicks and punches. Muscle memory. The research said replaying a physical routine in your mind helped you perform it in reality. Now he’d know for sure if these theories were true.
The first of Lloyd’s men passed the corner of the house. Martin held the heaviest of his rocks high. He used gravity to aid the force of his downward stroke. He struck the guard’s temple with maximum power. Skull bone crunched. The man went down with barely a sound. His pal was close behind him. Martin stepped up, taking his stance. His right hand snapped out, using all his strength coming from his shoulder. The rock he held smashed the guard’s face as the man’s rifle came up. A grunt and a thud. He was down. The only sound the muffled clatter of his rifle hitting the front lawn.
Martin blinked. That was too simple. His heart slammed against his rib cage and his mouth dried. He spun to his left. Two heads poked out the side of the back corner of the house. He waved Shona and Davy to him. Why were they still there! If silence wasn’t so important, he’d rip into them!
The guard at his feet groaned. Yep, it had been too easy. He’d have to hit him again.
Don’t think, Martin. Just do it!
Gritting his teeth, he tightened his hand around the rock he still held and flicked another punch in the already smashed face. Blood sprayed over his hand and the rock slipped out.
“Oh!” Shona’s sharp intake of breath signalled her and Davy’s arrival.
“Run!” Martin whispered as he picked up the rifle, slung it over his shoulder, then followed.
The trees seemed aeons away. His thighs burned and his back stung; muscles recently beaten twinged and complained. The rifle banged against the welts on his right flank.
Davy lagged behind. Martin turned and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him forward while he shushed Davy’s grunts. Shona kept up a close pace as they ran over a stubbled field of newly cut hay. The trees were in sight.
Finally, they ducked into the cool night shade of the copse lining the edge of the road Martin had used on his previous escape attempt.
They hunkered down beside the broadest trunk.
Silence came from the house.
“We made it?” Davy’s question was like an announcement over the countryside’s public address system.
“Ssh!” Martin echoed with Shona.
Silence still at the house.
“Let’s keep moving,” Martin ordered in a low voice. “Kirkcaldy’s that way.”
They walked keeping to the cover of the trees. Houses edged the road here and there.
They knocked on one, but no one answered, despite the lights coming on and footsteps at the door inside.
“People are scared. They can see the gun,” Shona tugged at Martin’s arm. “Let’s just get to Kirkcaldy. The police can help us.”
They walked a little further. Torchlight flickered far behind them, back near the mansion-prison they had left. The light of the moon would make them quite visible if they came out of the cover of the trees beside the road to Kirkcaldy. A vehicle approached; its engine roaring louder as it neared. They sprinted to the thickest part of the tree cover.
“Was that them?” Davy asked.
“Probably,” Martin said. “They’ll be looking for us in the town as well as around here.” He clicked his fingers beside his thigh. “We need to find somewhere to hide till daylight. Then we’ll go straight to the police.”
“But shouldn’t we go to the police now?” Davy’s words came out in a rush.
“There’s a high probability they’ll catch us on the way there,” Martin replied.
“Aye, the police station is on the far side of town. We have tae cross right through it to reach it.” Shona sat taller as she leaned against the tree beside him. “I ken a place to hide.”
“Where?” Martin asked. “Is it close?”
“Where I’m thinkin’ of is right by the water. Ravenscraig Castle. We can cut through the golf course to get there.”
“But that castle’s a ruin.” Davy pulled the brand-new jacket tightly around him, the ticket flicked under his chin.
“Exactly.” Shona faced Martin; her large brown eyes glinted in the moonlight. “They won’t even think to look there. We’ll be fine till morning, at least.”
Martin slowly nodded. “Aye. Sounds ideal.”
After twenty minutes they reached the golf course, and once through it, they kept close to the cover of trees, drystone walls, and houses. They made their way by the outskirts of Kirkcaldy and then kept low to the wall above the beach. Martin glanced back as they crossed the modern equivalent of the castle’s drawbridge traversing the deep trench of the moat, a wooden walkway conveniently supplied by Historic Scotland.
Martin turned and scanned as wide as he could see.
No one followed.