Dark… cold… death…
His eyelids were too heavy to open.
‘Where’s the ambulance? Can’t you get them here faster?’
‘It’s Lyndall, right? Look, he’s a tough old bastard. Probably not even really hurt and just lying there looking for attention.’
‘Why did I have to do your job for you, officer?’
‘You didn’t. We both did my job. And call me Pete.’
A gentle hand touched Vince’s face. ‘Give me your jacket, Pete.’
‘He really doesn’t need it… okay, okay.’
The jacket smelled like junk food. But its warmth seeped into Vince’s body. The voices were a dream. Some afterlife joke where McNamara would haunt him forever.
‘Vince! Oh my god, Vince…’
Why is Liz here too?
More importantly, why was she crying?
This time his eyes opened, straight into hers. ‘Hey, Lizzie. Don’t cry for me.’
‘Thank God. And I’m not crying.’ She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Where are you hurt?’
‘He was shot in the right leg, Liz. Think it went through.’ Now Lyndall’s face loomed beside Liz’s. ‘Bit of patching up and he’ll be right as rain.’
‘I will.’ He pushed himself up onto an elbow and pain coursed up his leg, more an intense throb than the sharpness of the bullet. ‘Farrelly dead?’
‘Sure is.’ Pete wandered into his line of sight carrying three rifles. ‘Two big holes in his chest. And a whack on the back of his head. Was a dead man walking, I reckon.’
‘Two holes?’
Lyndall shrugged.
‘Where’s Melanie. Did she find you? Is she—’
‘Quite safe. She’s a brave young lady who is probably drying herself off as well as that kitten of hers. I’m going back to her now. We’ll meet you at the hospital a bit later once you look presentable and don’t scare the poor child.’
Paramedics approached and Liz stood. ‘Will you be alright without me for a bit?’
‘Why are you leaving me alone with McNamara?’
‘Nice.’ McNamara scoffed.
‘I need to get a statement from Lyndall, and I think it will reassure Melanie to have another familiar face. And before you ask any more questions, I’m going to have to sprint to catch up with Lyndall.’
I know that feeling.
It was just him and McNamara and the body. Smoke settled around them.
‘Fireys are working hard to save what they can. Wouldn’t mind my jacket back, Vince. Getting cold.’
‘Help yourself. It smells disgusting.’
‘Ta. You can thank me later.’ For the first time in years, McNamara’s face showed no mockery or hatred toward Vince. He squatted nearby, careful with the rifles. ‘You saved Melanie’s life. No doubt about it.’
Taking the jacket with him, he straightened with a broad smile. ‘And I was one of the two people who saved your sorry ass. Gonna regret it for a long time.’