weapon. He was going to tear me apart with his bare hands.
'Asshole – fucking gonna die.'
He sat up, his entire weight pressing on my chest. His hands covered my face, then moved to my neck. I kicked and bucked to try to dislodge him, but it was like being trapped under a car. The Bergen dug into my back.
His huge fingers gripped my windpipe. I bucked again as he squeezed. I started to choke. My hands flew up to his wrists but I knew he was going to win.
I jerked my head from side to side.
'Fucking die.' His saliva sprayed across my face.
My hands dropped. My Adam's apple was being pushed deep into my throat and I couldn't breathe.
I felt a stabbing pain in my neck and chest. I thrashed and bucked, but more weakly than before. My right hand felt for a syringe. My brain was telling me to breathe, but I couldn't. I saw showers of white stars and the pain subsided. Not good. I gripped the syringe as the world blurred and faded and my head began to explode.
I focused on his eyes, or where they should have been in the shadow above me.
I swung my hand up and stabbed and stabbed.
He screamed and his scream became a howl. His hands loosened on my throat as Dom tried to pull him off me.
I kicked and pushed, looking for a weapon in the torchlight.
Coughing and retching, I scrambled to my feet.
Noah swept Dom aside and got to his knees. His agonized screams reverberated round the room.
I spotted the Mini-Ero's muzzle jutting out from beneath Dom's thigh. I grabbed his foot and pulled him away from Noah's flailing fists, then lunged for the weapon. I gripped the safety and squeezed off the rest of the mag.
Noah jerked like a puppet as he took the bursts, then toppled over on to his mates and lay still.
Everything went quiet for a second or two until real life elbowed its way through the door.
I could hear engines rumbling down the hill and hysterical girls begging for help.
I should have moved but all I could do for now was sit. My Adam's apple was still most of the way down my throat. I could hardly swallow.
Dom was moving, trying to curl up and protect himself. I heaved a blood-soaked sleeping-bag from under Noah.
'Help me, Dom. Come on.'
I pulled him up, got him on my shoulder. I threw the bag over him and headed through the door.
A cold wind blew and headlights bounced across the night sky. Searchlights swung left and right from the top of the Turks' vehicles.
I took the path to the right, the one that headed further uphill. I stepped over Joey's body. Light was flooding from the houses about thirty metres away. Contouring the ground with the heaviest weight I'd ever had on my shoulders, I staggered a few paces, stopped, made a fruitless attempt to get the sleeping-bag round him to protect him from the biting wind, and staggered some more.
My ankles twisted on the uneven footing. Dom felt like he was getting heavier and heavier. His legs bounced off the ground in front of me as I tried to shift his weight more evenly on my shoulders.
We made maybe two hundred more across the face of the mountain, still level with the house, and gradually lost ourselves in the darkness. I unloaded Dom on to the rocks. He didn't react. I got him tucked inside the maggot as best I could and zipped it up. I couldn't see if he had his eyes open. There was starlight, but my night vision hadn't kicked in yet.
I crouched down next to him. A horrible rasping noise came from the back of his throat. 'Oi, Drac – it's Nick. Nick Stone. It's over.'
The kidnap might be. But once I had him sorted out there were questions that needed answering.
He moved an arm inside the bag and tried to grab mine through the material. His grip was weak. His lips moved soundlessly. I thought he might be trying to thank me. I patted him through the bag. 'You owe me big-time.'
His breathing became shallow and rapid. A hand snaked out of the bag and tried to grip my shoulder. His chest heaved and tears streamed from his eyes.
The wind whipped the sweat from my face, then forced its way between my wet back and the Bergen. I was starting to freeze.
I looked up at the commotion round the target. The two wagons