Secrets of the Dead by Tom Harper

Author:Tom Harper
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Arrow
Published: 2011-09-25T00:33:18.885000+00:00

XXVII

Kosovo – Present Day

HER THUMB SLIPPED off the flint. The flame went out and the tomb went black. She flicked the lighter again, rubbing her finger raw before it relit.

Michael was still there.

What do you say to a dead man? She’d been talking to him for weeks – interrogating, begging, cursing. And now he was here, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

‘I got one of the bad guys outside the cave, but there might be more. And the Americans.’

‘I thought you were dead,’ she whispered.

‘Greatly exaggerated, like the man said.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Still time, of course.’

All she could do was stare at him. ‘How –?’

‘How did I find you? Or how did I end up not dead?’

‘How are we going to get out of here?’

‘Always practical. That’s what I loved about you.’ He took her hand in his and crouched in front of her. ‘God, I missed you, Abby. I’m so sorry about … everything.’

His hand was cold, but his breath was warm on her cheek. Through the dirt and smoke that clung to him, she caught the faintest sniff of his real scent – strong and mellow, like whisky on a winter’s night. That, more than anything, convinced her he might be real.

‘There’s a hut in the next valley. Dragović doesn’t know about it. I’ve been living there the last few days.’

She stared at him blankly. Joy, relief, gladness – those might all come later. For the moment, she felt hurt beyond all healing.

Michael put both hands on her cheeks and looked her in the eye.

‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

They left the tomb and hiked through the forest as fast as they could – Michael leading the way, Abby struggling to keep pace. The throb of the helicopter still shook the air, though the trees made it invisible. Every so often, short bursts of automatic weapon fire echoed up the valley.

‘That’s the Kosovo Police,’ said Michael. ‘Probably shooting at shadows. If they haven’t got Dragović by now, he’ll be safe into Serbia.’

They crested the ridge, still in the trees, and started descending the far slope. She couldn’t hear the gunfire any more, though the helicopter hadn’t gone away. In fact, it seemed to be getting louder. It flew right over them, shaking water drops off the wet trees, then slowly faded away.

‘At last vee are alone,’ Michael said, in a mock French accent. It was a line he’d often used in Pristina, when friends had left the flat after a long evening’s drinking. Hearing it here made her stomach lurch.

They didn’t stop, but carried on down the valley. The sun set behind the clouds; the air grew cold. Just when Abby thought she couldn’t go another step, they came out in a clearing where a small stone hut stood between two large trees. Not much to look at, but it had a chimney and a solid roof, and that was enough for Abby.

Michael didn’t dare light a fire – the wood in the forest was soaked anyway.

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