22

‘So where are we going again?’ Amanda turned to look at Shane. His attention was focused on the road ahead as he drove them out of the city.

‘I told you,’ he came to a stop at some traffic lights, ‘it’s a surprise.’

The rain had moved on. Deep puddles lingered in dips in the road but the sun would soon devour them. The sky was blue and cloudless. It was going to be a beautiful day.

‘What sort of surprise?’ Amanda fidgeted against her seat belt. It was already digging in too tightly to her sore ribs.

‘The sort that requires patience.’

The lights turned amber and then green.

‘I hate surprises.’

Amanda had felt unsettled since Shane had mentioned that they were going out. He’d been cryptic about plans, just telling her that they were going somewhere and that she should be prepared for a relatively long drive.

‘That’s true, you have always hated surprises,’ Shane agreed.

‘Then why spring one on me now?’ Amanda was watching him, studying every twitch in his clenched jaw, trying to read his expression like a map which would lead her to her answer.

‘Because—’

Amanda’s phone started to ring. They both glanced over at the front pocket of her hooded jumper where she’d stuffed it before leaving the hotel.

‘Are you going to get that?’ Shane had to force his gaze back onto the road.

‘Uh.’ Amanda fumbled in her large pocket. Her stomach tightened in on itself. Bile was creeping up her throat as she pulled out her phone. A thousand panicked questions jumped up in her mind.

What if it was McAllister?

What if he’d found her?

What would he do now he knew that she was alive?

She’d transferred all calls to her old phone to this new one, but what if that’d been a mistake made in haste?

The questions died down when Amanda saw the familiar number on the display screen.

‘Hey, Mum,’ she said as she drew the phone up to her, exhaling shakily.

‘Amanda.’ Corrine breathed out her daughter’s name. She sounded deflated.

‘Mum, are you okay?’ It was morning which meant late night in Last Vegas. Her Mum shouldn’t be calling at such an hour. Unless there was something wrong.

‘I’m…’ there was a long pause. ‘I’m tired. He keeps calling for her in the night.’

‘Who?’

‘Ewan. For his mother. He’s like a little candle. All day he burns so bright but I fear there won’t be much left of him soon. He’s unsettled, Amanda. As any little boy in his situation would be.’

Amanda closed her eyes, pushing away the surrounding scenery as the car drifted out of the city.

‘Some days he has no appetite and others he eats like a little wolf. He’s depressed, confused. Maybe I should take him to see Dr. Townsend?’

‘Mum—’

‘And he hears voices,’ Corrine lowered her voice as though sharing a secret. ‘At night. When he’s not calling out for his mother he says he hears voices in the garden, below his window.’

Amanda’s eyes flew open and she surged forward, clutching the phone tightly and straining against her seat belt. ‘He’s hearing voices?’

‘I mean, obviously he’s dreaming,’ Corrine was sighing, Amanda could imagine her clutching a small sherry in her free hand, trying to calm her jangled nerves.

‘Yes,’ Amanda agreed tightly though she wasn’t convinced.

‘So should I take him to see the GP?’

‘No. Wait.’

Wait until I’ve killed the man who might be responsible for those voices. Wait until I’m home and that Ewan is completely safe.

‘Is there any chance you could get an earlier flight back? I know there’s only four more nights left of your holiday, but he’s… he’s lost and I don’t think I know how to help him find his way.’

‘Mum—’

‘He keeps asking after you and Shane.’ Corrine released a deep sigh. ‘And his father.’

‘I get that he’s a bit scared and unsettled—’

‘He’s a smart boy. All the toys in the world can’t distract him from what’s really going on. He thinks that you aren’t coming back. He thinks that everyone has abandoned him.’

‘That’s not true.’ Amanda’s voice caught in her throat. Abandoning Ewan was the last thing she was doing. She was out here for him. To protect him indefinitely. The accusation of abandoning the boy felt like her mother had slammed her into a brick wall.

‘But he needs to see that.’

‘Tell him that there’s only four more nights and then I’ll be back.’ Amanda clutched at her stomach. It constricted painfully as she told what could very well be a lie. If things went south with McAllister then she wouldn’t be coming back at all.

‘You really can’t get an earlier flight?’ Corrine pleaded. ‘He seems so fond of you, Amanda. Seeing you would really lift his spirits, I know it would.’

‘I’m…’ the truth was a grenade which would destroy everything.

I’m not done here. I still need to murder the man who had my husband hunted down and killed.

‘I’ll see what I can do, but don’t go promising him anything, Mum. Changing flights can be expensive and I’m not sure I can afford it. It’s only four more nights.’

‘What do I do?’ Corrine whispered. ‘When he wakes in the night screaming out for his mother? How do I answer his cries?’

‘Tell him…’ Amanda pulled at a loose thread on her joggers. ‘Tell him that his mother is gone but can still hear him. And that Shane and I will soon be back.’

‘He’ll make me promise.’

‘Then promise.’

‘Because you are coming back, Amanda. Aren’t you?’ the doubt in her mother’s voice stabbed at Amanda like a knife. She could feel tears clotting beneath her eyes.

‘Of course,’ she assured Corrine hoarsely. ‘God, Mum, of course I’m coming back. I’m not just going to abandon that poor little boy.’

‘It’s just that you’ve been through such a lot and you didn’t ask to be a mother but the role has been thrust upon you. And Will, you must be dealing with that. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to just run away from it all.’

‘Is that what you’d want to do? Run?’ Amanda felt oddly defensive of her actions. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t fleeing from her responsibilities she was fighting. Fighting to give both her and Ewan a safe, secure future.

‘I never ran,’ Corrine said coolly. ‘No matter how bad things got, Amanda, I never ran.’

‘But did you want to?’ Amanda challenged.

‘No. Running only gives you distance, not closure.’

‘Mum, I’m not…’ The car started to twist down country lines which cut a line through the rolling hills of heather. ‘I’m not running. I hope you know that.’

‘I know that because you’re coming back. Right?’

‘Right.’

‘Promise me.’

‘Mum?’

‘I’m going to have to promise him, so perhaps you could do me the courtesy of promising me.’

‘I’m coming home, Mum. I promise.’ Amanda hoped with every fibre of her being that this wouldn’t turn out to be a lie.

‘Good, because I’m going to hold you to that,’ Corrine’s voice was losing its edges.

‘You do that.’

‘Four more nights?’

‘Four more nights and I’ll be home.’

‘I hope you’re having fun out there, Amanda.’

‘Yeah,’ Amanda deadpanned, ‘tonnes.’

*

They drove for just over an hour. They seemed to have followed the rain as when Shane pulled off the road onto a gravel car park the ocean of blue sky overhead had been replaced by pewter clouds.

‘So,’ Amanda climbed out of the car and looked around, ‘my surprise is a drive out to some remote field? Awesome.’

‘Not just any field.’ Shane moved around to the back of the car and opened the boot. The sound of the lock releasing unnerved Amanda. She felt like she’d suddenly slipped and was falling. Her hands reached out and caught the car door just in time to help her stay on her feet. Shane didn’t notice. He was too busy taking something out of the boot. ‘This is a shooting range. I found it online. Looks like it’s barely used these days.’

He moved away from the car with the box in his hands. Amanda’s knees buckled and she flailed against the car.

‘You brought…’ she could barely form her words, ‘the gun? You brought the bloody gun out here?’ The whole time they’d been driving it had been stashed away in the boot, silent and deadly.

‘Amanda—’

‘This is my surprise?’

‘You need to focus,’ he thrust the box into her hands. ‘You’re the one who was so determined to do this but you can barely be around the thing without falling apart. How are you going to compose yourself to actually use it?’

Amanda’s hands trembled against the box.

‘You can’t give in to your fear. I’m not trying to be cruel, I’m trying to help you get some clarity. Come on.’ Shane strode off, the gravel crunching underfoot as he moved beyond the small car park to a cluster of trees. Amanda felt obliged to follow, the weight of the box unpleasantly heavy in her hands.

There was a clearing at the heart of the trees in which four straw torsos were arranged on wooden poles.

‘The website said that the TA uses this site but only on weekends,’ Shane explained factually, like he were a tour guide in a museum.

Amanda looked at the four effigies. They lacked heads or arms. Their bodies were just tightly packed straw held together by string.

‘I’m going to teach you how to load, aim, and fire. You got it?’ Shane relieved her of the box and pulled some disposable gloves from his back pocket before opening it up. ‘This is your safety, your magazine,’ he handed a pair of gloves to Amanda before permitting her to take a closer look. ‘And of course the trigger.’

The surface of the gun was polished. Someone had taken great care in its manufacture.

‘Hold it,’ Shane offered her the gun.

Amanda felt her body trying to pull back, like a magnet being repelled, but she fought against the reaction. Clenching her teeth together, Shane raised her hands and closed them around the hilt of the gun. He released the barrel.

‘Now, aim it.’

Amanda used both hands to keep it level and steady. She turned towards the quartet of straw bodies positioned some ten feet away.

‘Just hold it for a bit, get used to the weight.’

Her upper arms throbbed but Amanda remained stoic in her stance.

‘Okay, that’s it. You’re doing great.’ Shane came in close, checked the line of her arms, and lowered her shoulders. ‘Now, when you’re comfortable,’ he stood at her side, ‘shoot the far left one in the chest.’

Amanda’s finger found the trigger as she carefully manoeuvred herself to face the far left torso. Her palms were damp and she felt unbearably cold, like her teeth could start chattering at any second.

‘You need to squeeze the trigger but really commit to it once you do. The safety is off. Give it a shot.’

Her mouth was so dry. Amanda kept the gun steady, pulled against the trigger. When she pulled, a force was unleashed from within the gun which made her stagger backwards. It happened so fast that for a second she didn’t trust her senses. The only sound was the snapping of straw as the bullet connected with the torso’s upper right shoulder.

‘Christ,’ she looked down at the gun which remained in her hands.

‘It definitely packs a punch,’ Shane commented. ‘Now, go again. This time really focus on hitting the target directly in the chest.’

Amanda fired off four more shots. None of them landed in the centre of the straw torso. They were always a couple of inches shy of the mark.

‘I keep missing.’

‘A good aim takes years to perfect,’ Shane massaged her shoulders which were now aching. Each time Amanda squeezed on the trigger she felt the power of the shot cross over into her and echo into her bones. ‘You’ll get there.’

‘I don’t have time to get there.’ Amanda handed Shane the gun and snapped off her gloves in frustration. She walked over to the four torsos, drawing up close so that she could survey the damage she’d caused. ‘Four more nights,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘That’s all we have left. Then we have to go back,’ her fingers explored the fibres of straw which had come loose. Softer, as if sharing a secret with the dummy torso, she muttered, ‘Ewan is expecting me. He needs me.’

‘Well, we can’t come back here tomorrow as it’s Saturday.’

Amanda wasn’t listening. She circled the torso, stalking it. She suddenly felt predatory, like a cat that had just noticed the sparrow sitting quietly on the garden fence. She made her fingers into the shape of a crude gun and poked at the straw. It would be hard to miss a shot from such a distance. In fact it would be impossible.

‘So do you want to practise some more now?’ Shane was trying to get her attention.

Amanda prodded the torso again. Jabbed it sharply in the centre of its straw chest, right where its barley heart would be. If she couldn’t shoot accurately from a distance then what she needed to do was eliminate the distance completely. But how was she ever going to get close enough to McAllister to shoot him at point-blank range?

*

‘I should have killed him when I had the chance.’ Amanda had felt tormented the entire drive back into the city.

‘And what, got yourself killed in the process?’

‘I should have stabbed him or just clawed his bloody eyes out with my bare hands.’ She surprised herself with her vitriol but she was mad. Verging on furious. Each time it felt like she had McAllister within her grasp he managed to slither just out of reach.

‘If this is about the shooting, then I can do it.’

‘No,’ she turned down Shane’s offer for the fourth time. ‘I have to do it.’

‘Amanda—’

‘This is about me being my own hero, remember?’

‘Yes, but I’m not about to let you get yourself killed.’

‘I won’t, I’ll be fine.’ Amanda sounded so convincing that she almost managed to fool herself.

‘We can practise some more. We can—’

Amanda groaned as she cradled her left arm against her chest.

‘Do you ache?’

‘Uh-huh. A lot.’

‘We probably overdid it a bit today. Pushed you too hard. I’ll run you a bath as soon as we’re back at the hotel.’

‘A bath?’ Amanda’s sagged in her seat as she imagined the blissful sensation of warm bubbles caressing every inch of her sore body.

Once they returned to the hotel Shane was as good as his word. He ran Amanda a hot bath and set about ordering room service, leaving her to enjoy its fragrant warmth. It felt good to settle down amongst the bubbles. The heat massaged all her aches, helping them fade away. Amanda closed her eyes, loving how her whole body tingled with delight.

*

‘I ran you a bath.’

Amanda had just burst in through the front door. She still had sweat pouring down her forehead and clinging to her cold skin. There was still ice on the cars outside. The tip of her nose had turned into a cherry.

‘You what?’ she gasped, trying to get her breath back.

‘While you were out jogging, I ran you a bath.’ Will was sat in the living room in the middle of the sofa, carefully working his way through the newspaper he was holding.

‘Oh, wow.’ Amanda swept the back of her hand across her slick brow. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

‘I figured you might want a bath when you got back.’

‘You figured right.’ Amanda eagerly kicked off her trainers. She raced for the stairs and then doubled back, peering into the living room. ‘You know, I could get used to this being married lark. I mean, are there other perks besides freshly run baths?’

‘Oh,’ Will turned to flash her a suggestive grin, ‘there are lots of perks. Just you wait and see.’

‘Maybe…’ Amanda flirtatiously lifted up the hem of her T-shirt, giving Will a flash of her pale stomach, ‘you could join me, if you like?’

Will abandoned his paper as though the pages had suddenly set on fire.

*

Amanda slowly opened her eyes. The water around her had grown cold and the bubbles were all flat. Her joints creaked like rusted pipes as she carefully manoeuvred herself out of the bath. The lingering steam provided little warmth so she hurriedly bundled herself into the nearest towel. She gazed at the flat surface of the water.

‘Hey,’ behind her the door opened. ‘You were taking a while so I thought I’d check in on you,’ Shane explained apologetically, already retreating when he noticed that Amanda had successfully got out of the bath on her own.

‘He’s everywhere.’

‘What?’ Shane pushed the door open a bit further, looking confused.

‘Will.’ Amanda wilted as she dropped down onto the toilet lid. ‘There are memories of him everywhere. Even,’ she gestured at the water with a limp hand, ‘having a bath reminds me of him. He’s everywhere. How am I supposed to deal with that?’

Shane opened the door fully and came and knelt beside her. He brushed his fingers down her damp cheek. ‘I wish I knew the answer, Amanda. I guess that, in time, it will get easier.’

‘Will it be worse when we go back, when I’m in my home? The home we shared? I don’t know if I can handle seeing him everywhere all the time. I feel… guilty. Like if I hadn’t chased after him he might still be alive. Along with Evangeline.’ She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of the towel.

‘I’ll be right there with you. Whatever you go through, I’ll be by your side to get you through it.’

‘What if—’ she choked on a sob. ‘What if my mum is right? What if I am running?’

‘Amanda, you’re not running.’

‘Maybe that’s why I’m so determined to face McAllister, because deep down I don’t want to go back.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Am I running?’ Amanda asked tearfully.

‘You’re not running.’ Shane cradled her cheeks with his warm hands. ‘You told me that you didn’t want to run, that you didn’t want to live like a ghost. You’re here because you’re fighting for your future, Amanda.’ Then he added, hopefully, ‘For our future.’

‘I can’t shoot him from a distance’ Amanda dropped her chin, unable to meet Shane’s gaze.

‘Then don’t. You’ll shoot the fucker in his sleep if you have to.’

‘I need to find a way to be alone with him. Some place where he can’t call for help or get away.’

‘Look, just let me do it, Amanda. Let me kill him.’

‘No,’ the word shot from Amanda like a bullet. ‘This is on me, Shane. I have to do this. I have to be the one to end him. You understand, don’t you?’

‘No. But we’ll figure this out.’ Shane withdrew his hands and stepped back. He leaned down to help Amanda stand up. ‘Whatever we need to do to finish this, we’ll do it, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘You’re not running away from your problems being up here, Amanda. You’re facing them.’