The elderly couple at the front had relaxed, their voices low, soft. Behind, their daughter-in-law was silent. She stared at the seat in front, only moving her head occasionally to stretch her neck.
‘Mum,’ said Milly, ‘I think we should deal with the injuries. Maybe there will be a first aid kit somewhere.’
‘Good idea.’ Lydia turned to Andrew. ‘Where do you keep the first aid kit?’
Andrew reached under the driver’s seat, brought out a small box and handed it to Laura.
Milly sat next to the woman directly behind the elderly couple and dabbed a cloth on her forehead. She found a bottle of antiseptic and pressed the cotton wool gently against her skin, wiping. The woman winced.
‘Sorry, it’s just to stop the cut getting infected. How are you feeling?’
She smiled. ‘I’ve had better days. I’m Abigail. Thanks for your help. You are all heroes in my eyes.’
Milly held her expression as if she could feel Abigail’s pain and thought that maybe staying as still as possible would stop the discomfort.
Laura was now standing across the aisle. She approached the guy who was on his own, two seats behind Lydia. ‘Hey, can I look at that eye?’
‘Is it that bad?’ he asked.
‘Well, it’s swollen. Here, let me try and work some magic,’ Laura insisted. ‘Stephen, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right. Sorry, I can’t shake your hand. I’m a little tied up.’
‘A comedian, huh? Well, I’m glad you’ve still got your sense of humour.’
Stephen sat still, grimacing as the antiseptic cream stung his eyebrow. His fingers curled, veins appearing on the backs of his hands like railway tracks. He was shaking, pulling his head away for relief.
‘There you go. All patched up.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate what you’re doing. Why don’t you just run? Leave us here? You don’t need this shit. It’s not your fight.’
Laura smiled. ‘I’m waiting to be mentioned in the New Year’s honours list.’
‘Well, I’ll put in a good word.’
Laura peered around the coach. She was unsure how this would end. There was a madman on the loose, that much she knew. Why these people had been taken was anyone’s guess. She needed to find out more, question the passengers. Stephen seemed like he’d talk. He had a kind face, gentle, a wide smile and tender, deep brown eyes beneath a mass of black hair that had no particular style.
‘Do you mind me asking how it happened?’ Laura asked.
Suddenly, Andrew shouted from the driver’s seat. Laura stood and made her way to the front.
He was pointing ahead, looking through the front window. Ben was crouching, asking Milly to get down.
‘What’s going on?’ Laura whispered.
Ben turned towards the front window as Laura knelt behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘I don’t know. I think Andrew saw something.’
‘Saw what?’
‘There it is again.’ Andrew turned the full lights on. The path in front of them lit up – shadows pirouetted, sweeping from the trees either side, casting an evil presence.
‘Turn the lights off. It’s better if he doesn’t see us,’ Laura suggested.
‘He knows where we are. We’re sitting ducks.’ Ben turned, shining the torch at the passengers. ‘Has he taken all of your phones?’
Everyone nodded.
‘There.’ Andrew pointed to his left, into the fields. There was a figure fifty yards from where they were parked.
‘Andrew, the lights! Turn them off.’ Laura’s voice was loud, sharp.
‘Mum, I’m scared.’
Laura reached for Milly’s arm.
Andrew turned the key and flicked a switch on the dashboard. The lights went out. The whirring of the heaters cut instantly, the engine died and everyone was silent.
‘I’m going to the door. I need to know if this lunatic is outside.’ Ben turned, facing the back of the coach. ‘No one make a sound, not a peep, cough or spit. You hear?’
Edward and Mary, the elderly couple sat at the front, were starting to panic. ‘I suggest you stay in here, young man, where it’s safe. Don’t do anything stupid. It’s no use being a dead hero. Do you hear me?’
Ben held the torch, pointing it at the floor, and moved to the elderly couple. He glanced at Abigail, sat quietly behind them. ‘Look, I’m going to get us out of here. Whatever it takes. I need to know if he’s still outside. It may be a case that he’s gone and had enough. But I need to know.’
Mary turned her head. ‘I say we lock the doors, get that fellow at the front to drive like the clappers and if the bastard stands in our way, we take him out. God knows I won’t be sorry. Putting us through this. I’m seventy, you know. I don’t need this.’
Ben smiled. ‘You look well for your age.’
Mary squinted her eyes, her cheeks flushed. Her way of thanking Ben for the compliment.
‘Go on. Tell that fellow up the front to start the coach. Let’s go.’
‘It’s a great idea but he’s slashed the tyres. Okay. Please, everyone, no noise.’ Ben moved along the coach, reaching the steps at the front. The door was open, and Andrew followed him out.
The path ahead was pitch-black, a stretch of total bleakness. Remote. Behind them, the lights from Ben’s car pressed against the back of the coach.
Ben walked along the path, away from the coach. Only Andrew’s footsteps told Ben the driver was with him.
After a minute, Ben turned. ‘We need to, somehow, get these people out of here. We need to do something. It’s getting late. He’s going to move in on us.’ Ben raised his voice. ‘We have to get out of here.’
Andrew said, ‘I don’t know how. He has us where he wants us. I don’t know how we’re going to escape from this.’
The guys kept moving. Ben wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stay warm. Andrew was already breathing hard. He was unfit, overweight and fighting to keep up.
Ben stopped suddenly, looking into the fields on the left. He listened but all he could hear was Andrew blowing through his mouth, sharp exhalations of air from his lungs.
‘So, tell me about you? What’s your story?’ Ben asked as he monitored his surroundings. Although it was still, there was no way of telling if the lunatic was near them.
‘Well, I’m five foot four, thirty-nine.’
‘No. I mean the coach? These people?’
‘I’ve driven for the company for twelve years. Never had a problem. The odd stag-do, rowdy tourists, boisterous sing-songs, the occasional argument, raised voices, vomit on the seats.’
‘Okay, I get your drift. I thought you never had any problems?’ Ben asked sarcastically.
‘Nothing like this. I sensed something was wrong, Ben. Call it an intuition. The guy who told me to do this… He– he knew things.’
‘What things?’ Ben asked. He was shining the torch towards Andrew.
‘Where my kid went to school; where my wife worked; he knew what I drank at home, for Christ’s sake. I know he was watching us. Anyway, he gave me an address, where I’d find the coach. He told me to get into the driver’s seat and not look behind. I knew something wasn’t right.’