WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (53 page)

A
moment later, and I didn’t know who was doing it, the megaphone clicked and a
pleasant female voice whipped out.  “Emergency.  Which service do you
require?”  Dylan came back on, “What’s it to be?  We’re not staying
here all night.  Let’s all leave here as winners.  Shall I get put
through to the cops or not?” 

Geordie
raised his gun to Kate.

I
waited, staring down while chewing a strip off my fingernails.  Finally,
Geordie lowered his gun.  Then both he and Machete signalled their
men.  One guy, then another four or five, tossed objects into the
woods.  I prayed that the men were now unarmed.

“Good
decision,” Dylan said.  He spoke again.  “Hi, are you still
there?”  He must have been talking to the phone operator.  Just
before his voice faded, soft but fast clapping sounds came through the
speaker. 

Seconds
later, an urgent flurry of flapping wings burst from the trees.  A whole
swarm of bats shot out and arced over the clearing.  Dylan must have
startled their roost.  Kate and a few men ducked their heads.  Elliot
cried as the bats flew off into the distance.

A
burly man from Geordie’s side pulled a gun out of his boot and raised it.

A
tear rolled from my eye.  All I could do was watch and listen as a shot
went off.  The burly man bolted into the trees in the wake of the bats...
chasing, I assumed, after Dylan. 

I
studied the spot
where the bats had flown out of the trees and the burly man had entered,
desperate to glimpse Dylan.

Steve
squawked Kerry’s name over the radio.

“What?”
she whispered back.

“Instruct
them to send Elliot and Kate over to that bench near the lake.”

“Why
me?”

“Because
Machete knows your voice.”

“I
don’t want to do it.”

“He’s
not going to listen to me.”  Steve sounded annoyed.  “He doesn’t know
who I am.  Besides, a female might sound less threatening.”

There
was silence on the airwaves.  Kerry finally ended it.  “No way. 
I’m not doing it.”

“Jeez! 
This is no time for spitting the dummy,” John snapped. 

“Get
it done!” Steve said.

“I
won’t,” she insisted, her voice as snappy as a whip.  “Someone else will
have to.”

I jerked
on the spot.  W
hat the hell is her problem?
  Would any sane
mother let fear prevent her from helping her son?  This made no
sense.  At least Kerry was safely hidden.  The only person who had
not yet spoken was Dylan. 

I
knew it was him who the burly man had chased after.  Dylan could have been
hurt, fighting for his life this very second, and Kerry couldn’t even relay
simple instructions to her son’s kidnappers... Ugh! 

We
had no time for this nonsense.  While still scanning the trees for Dylan,
I raised the radio to my lips.  “I’ll do it, Steve.”

“Okay,”
he replied.  “And be a little forceful, yeah?  Cos if we can’t get
Kate and Elliot over near the lake, it’ll be impossible to grab them both
without confronting the gangs.”

With
my mind still focused on wanting news of Dylan, I turned my radio to channel
three and cleared my throat.  I had to draw on the memory of my husband to
put steel, rather than worry into my voice.  “Send Kate and Elliot to the
bench near the lake.  You’ve got ten seconds, or the deal is off!”  I
lowered my radio and stared into the shadows in search of Dylan again. 
Where
is he?

Chatter
caught my attention.
 
I leaned over the railing.  The gangs
were huddled together on either side of the fire, conversing in hushed tones,
but I couldn’t make out the words.  Machete nodded at Geordie who gave the
thumbs up, and then pointed in the direction of the lake.  The man with a
bandaged face kicked Kate in the butt. 

She
yelped and stumbled forward to the halfway point between the two gangs near the
fire, and then stretched out her bound arms toward Elliot.  “Come to me.”

“I
want Mummy,” Elliot wailed, rubbing his eyes. 

“I-it’s
okay,” Kate said.  “Grab my hand.  I’ll take you to your mum.”

Elliot
moved a few steps then stopped, unsure.

Machete
pushed him forward.  “Go!  You little brat.”

Elliot
stumbled, then scarpered into Kate’s waiting arms.  She hugged him and led
him away - not quite running, more waddling as though her thighs had melted
together or she needed to pee.  Was something taped around her legs?

I
spread my arms across the top of the railing and slumped for a moment as Kate
put distance between herself, Elliot and the gangs.  All that remained was
to whisk them out of sight, lower the bags and hotfoot it out of the park.

Geordie
shouted, “We’ve done as you asked.  Now give me what I want.”

Snatching
the radio off my belt, I said into the mouthpiece, “Now?”

“Not
yet,” Dylan answered over the radio.

My
heart liquefied when I heard him speak.  Oh, thank God.  A breath of
relief rushed out of me. 
He’s okay.

Dylan
continued.  “Tell them that someone’s going in to get Kate and Elliot, and
only when they are out of the way will you lower the bags.  Okay?” 
The radio crackled.  “Still hear me, Jen?”

“Erm...” 
Still high on hearing his lush voice, I had to shake an answer out of myself.
 “Yes.”

“Then
I want you to get out of there, too.  I’ll meet you at the back exit.”

“Got
it.  Hey!  What about you?”

“Don’t
worry about me.  Just get yourself to safety.  If I don’t show up, run
from the park and don’t look back!”

Not
wanting Dylan to have to worry about me, I agreed.  I relayed the
instructions through the megaphone.  “Someone is going in to get Kate and
Elliot.  No one is to make a move.  Once Kate and Elliot are out of
sight, we’ll give you what you came for.”  

“Why
should I trust you?” Machete yelled at the dark skies.

“Because,”
I replied, racking my brain.  I tugged the ropes which were suspending the
bags.  The goods bobbed and swayed above the gangs, proving I had control. 
“Because our worlds don’t mix.  All we want is our friends back and to be
free of you.”

Both
Machete and Geordie stared up.  One by one they shouted, “Agreed.” 
After lowering their gazes, I noticed their eyes locking on each other.  It
was up to the imagination what dark and seedy thoughts ran through their heads.

Then
silence ensued.

I
nibbled my fingernails and searched for movement beyond the blue lights glowing
like fireflies in the trees.  Under different circumstances I would have
been awed by the magic and serenity.  Only the rustle of leaves, and
mating calls of wild animals interrupted the silence.  Then... what was
that?

A
continuous raspy sound grew louder on my left.   I crept along the
platform, squinted in that direction, and spotted movement.  A shadowy
figure.  I focused harder and realised it was Steve, gliding along a
zipwire at amazing speed. 

“Up
there!” someone shouted.  I scurried along the planks and stared down
toward the fire.  Red-shirt guy was pointing up at Steve.  My eyes
skated left and then right as I scanned everyone for weapons. 
Nothing.  Well, none that I could see.

As
Steve flew towards the men and near the fire, I tugged on the ropes again,
allowing the overhead prizes to waggle to distract them. 

Geordie
beckoned for one of his men, and bandaged-face guy leaned toward him. 
Geordie bridged the gap between their faces by cupping his hand. 

I
glanced at Steve.  He flew over the fire.  A shot rang out, piercing
my ears.  They hadn’t tossed all their weapons at all.

“The
password,” Geordie yelled.

A
frightful spasm bolted through my body.  I pressed my hand over my mouth
to trap a scream, and stared around.  Had Steve taken a bullet?

No. 
He hadn’t.

Steve
yelled, “Let it rip!” 

I
didn’t know what he meant, but I knew we needed a distraction to enable Steve
to grab Elliot and Kate.  I grabbed a climbing rope that was wrapped
around a spindle, and yanked.  Sawdust and sand showered down on the
men.  Then, seconds later, a high-pressured jet of water surged out of the
trees from the other side, soaking the men.  Whoever was controlling the
hose was either brave or stupid.  Their location would no longer be
secret.  I shivered at the thought.  Was it Dylan?  As soon as I
thought his name, my worries fell away...

Bandaged
man groaned, and turned his back on the gushing water.  The other men ran
in circles, slipping and sinking ankle-deep in mud, hands shielding their
faces. 

The
jet was working.

It
gave Steve a clear run down the wire.  That was all we needed.  When
he almost reached Kate, I untied another rope.  The drugs plummeted to the
ground like a bag of cement at the side of the fire, and burst open. 
White packages fell out. 

I
tugged another rope to check I’d got the right one to lower the phone, then
someone shouted “Up there!” and fired a gun. 

The
water stopped flowing. 

I
let go of the rope and sank to my knees.  I prayed to God that whoever was
controlling the jet had run for cover and not been hit.   

Peering
through the trees, I watched Kate mount the bench.  She helped Elliot
climb up beside her, and then pointed up at Steve. 

Go
for it Kate!
 
I whispered into the air. 

Kate
bent her knees, and then Elliot climbed up and stood on her hands.  No
matter how badly it must have stung, Kate looked determined to lift him.  

“Kate!”
Steve shouted, speeding toward her.

With
a loud yell, she thrust Elliot up above her shoulders.  Steve whipped him
out of her arms.  He stretched a hand down for Kate, but it was too
late.  They flew out of reach.  He carried Elliot away in a smooth
descent over the lake, leaving Kate standing on the bench, exposed.

I
pressed my hand over my mouth to quell my shock.  I felt weak, sick and
lightheaded.  S
hit.  You idiot
!  Why didn’t she jump,
grab for Steve’s leg or...  Stupid, stupid girl.  Why didn’t she even
try?

“I’m
going down to meet Elliot,” Kerry said over the radio.

“No!”
John replied.  “It’s too dangerous.”

“I
don’t care.  I’m going.” 

I
turned and kicked the tree stump.  I was tight-chested, breathless, and on
the verge of exploding into tears.  But I couldn’t.  Kate was still
in danger.  Dylan and John were God knew where in the park, and Kerry was
about to come out of hiding. 

Machete
shook water off his hair, and knelt to stuff the packages back inside the bag.

Geordie
must have seen it was just drugs.  He looked up.  “Give me the phone
and tell me what I want to know,” he shouted, snapping me back to horrific
reality.  “I’ve still got a clean shot at your friend from here.”

I
jumped to my feet and let my glare sweep the park.  To me, the clearing
was little more than an inky blur of blue spots flashing amid rising swirls of
smoke, hindering my view.  I blinked hard to focus my welling eyes.

Geordie,
dripping water from head to toe, had his arm outstretched.  The struggling
flames of the part-doused fire glinted and flashed on a dark object in his
unsteady hand.  The gun frightened me.  It was pointed at Kate. 

She
screamed. 

Geordie
shouted up at the trees.  “I want that mobile, Jenna, you slippery little
cow.” 

My
breath came in sharp gasps.  Just as I pulled myself up to untie the rope,
Geordie swung around.  He waved the gun in random circles and a shot
echoed throughout the park. 

The
bullet impacted my platform, and vibrations ran across the planked floor. 
I dropped to my knees.  Fear zipped through my body, gripping me like a
vice.  That was close.

And
then all went quiet down in the clearing.  Too quiet.

A
second passed.
 Then ten.  The world descended into a hazy reality.  My head
thought it was still Friday - one traumatic day that stretched into double
time.  My aching body screamed out for Sunday to arrive.

 Slumped
in hiding on the platform, with hot blood filling my cheeks, I took deep
breaths to gather some courage and stared down.

Joe
was on another man’s back, standing next to Geordie.  “It must be up
there.”  He reached up, trying to hook the sack overhead which contained
my phone.

Bandaged
man dashed his way around the struggling fire.  To my surprise, he
bypassed the phone, headed over to Machete and made a snatch for the
drugs. 

“Shite,”
Machete snarled, slipping in the mud.  He whacked him in the face with the
bag, plunging him to his knees. 

Machete
picked up the bag of drugs and stood.  He whistled at red-shirt guy. 
“Let’s go.”  

As
they turned to leave, Geordie raised his gun to them.  “No one’s going
anywhere until I get what I came for.  Stay where you are.”  He
signalled to bandaged man.  “Get the drugs.”

Machete
grunted.  “Like hell you will.”  Throwing the bag at his face,
Machete charged at bandaged man.  They slid in a horizontal tandem across
the sloshing mud, battling in a tangle of arms and kicking legs. 

A
figure appeared behind them and swooped into the firelight on the end of a
rope. 
Oh, God, please don't be Dylan.
 Panic nibbled further
into my gut. 
Please tell me he wouldn't be so stupid as to...
 
I focused on the figure.  Relief flooded me for an instant.  It
wasn’t Dylan.  It was John. 

Then
guilt toyed with my mind. 

John
was in danger.  His face glowed in the firelight.  He smashed his
feet into red-shirt guy who fell against Geordie knocking the gun out of his
hand.  John swung back into the trees on the rope, leaving as quickly as
he came.  Hidden.

I
gasped, shocked by John’s outburst of bravery.  Then I found myself
burning with admiration.  Elliot had already been rescued.  John
could have bailed on us.  Instead, he’d put himself in jeopardy. 
Why?  Was he paving the way for Kate’s rescue?  Trying to disarm the
men? 

Machete
kicked bandaged guy, then scrambled to his feet and snatched up the bag of
drugs.  As rocks and sticks flew out of the trees, he wheeled around and
started running toward the lake.  A rock must have hit him because he stumbled
and cupped his head.  Another of Geordie’s men rushed out of the shadows
and grabbed a gun off the ground.  He fired at Machete.  His body
went slack and he dropped, face down this time, into the mud.  

He
didn’t get back up. 

Machete’s
men stared down, slack-jawed, then charged at the other gang.

I
shook in the darkness and fumbled for my radio. “Dylan.”  Panic jumped
into my voice making it louder.  I needed to know he was okay. 
“Where the hell are you, Dylan?” I tried to whisper.  “Answer me, damn
you.”

Nothing.

I
peeked at Kate through the patchy trees.  No wonder she hadn’t moved from
behind the bench.  There were no bushes, no cover nearby.  The guys
would have a clean shot.  Jumping over the fence and dropping down to the
lake was not an option either.  Large rocks awaited her at the water’s
edge. 

Seeing
her there, so vulnerable, made my heart feel like a bruise inside my
chest. 

Static
hissed on my radio, but still no word from Dylan.

He
must be in the trees somewhere nearby.
 Perhaps too close to the men to
speak without being overheard.  Or maybe he was fighting someone, or had
taken a bullet and was hanging upside down from a branch, in pain and alone.
 I ground my teeth in worry. 

Geordie
pointed his gun skyward while the remainder of Machete’s gang fought his on the
ground near the fire.  

A
gunshot punched the air.

I
jumped.

“I
want the key to that password, Jenna,” he shouted into the night, “or the next
shot will blow your friend’s head off.  She’s got about ten seconds of
life left in her.”  He lowered the gun and pointed it at Kate. 
“Nine.  Take your last breath, hotstuff.  Eight, seven...”

I
shuddered.  Hell! 

“Six,
five...”

If
I said nothing, Kate would...  Fear rammed me to the core when the
countdown reached three.  There was no option.  I had to speak up to
save Kate.  I fumbled with my radio, turned it to the megaphone
channel.  “Th-the text messages.  On my mobile.  Hanging in that
sack above your head!” I blurted, then pressed my hand over my mouth.

Regret
ripped through me, but I’d had no choice.  All he had to do was grab the
sack.  Had I sealed our death by trying to save Kate?  Once he had
what he’d come for, what reason would he have to let any of us leave here
alive?  Tears rolled in hot lines over my cheeks as I crouched in the
prickly atmosphere, held my breath and listened for the fatal shot. 

Would
he still shoot Kate?

I
stooped to look at her.  She lay face down behind the bench, probably
trying to dig herself to safety. 

He
hadn’t fired at her.  Yet. 
Should I tell him we have a copy of
the voicemail? 
No.  He’d definitely kill us then.

I
shifted my gaze to Geordie.  Orange flames flickered and rose from the
remaining fire behind him.  Figures crossed in front of it.  Geordie
and his men were focused on getting their ruthless hands on the all-important
phone.  So long as I did not lower the bag, trying to reach it would keep
them occupied.

I
scanned the park.  Surely now was the moment to grab Kate?  If we
didn’t make a move while Geordie’s back was turned, it could tick past the
point of rescue.

Kate
peered over the bench and looked around.  Then, crouching down, she made a
run for the trees.  She moved faster than before.  She must have been
free of whatever restricted her legs earlier.  When she reached the half
way point between the bench and the edge of the trees, a shot rang out.

Kate
screamed and dropped to the ground.

“Not
so fast, hotstuff,” Geordie shouted.  “You’re coming back with me.”

Oh,
hell.  Geordie had no intention of freeing Kate.

Still
on the ground, Kate began crawling to the treeline. 

Geordie
fired over her head.  “You deaf?  Make one more move and it’ll cost
you dearly.  I
will
shoot you.”  He did not lower the gun, giving
no illusions that he would not hesitate to put a hole in her if she dashed for
tree line again. 

“You
bastard,” Kate cried. 

“Go
back to the bench where I can see you,” Geordie ordered.  “I’ll deal with
you in a minute.”

An
invisible net of devotion caught me, trapping me inside the park.  I
couldn’t leave without Kate and knew that Steve and Dylan wouldn’t
either.   

“You
idiot!  Don’t shoot her,” Joe yelled at Geordie, placing his hand on the
gun to lower it.  Just as a thread of hope that Joe might switch to our
side weaved through me, he severed it.  “We need her to work the software,
remember?”

Whimpering,
Kate crawled back to the bench and pressed herself to the ground behind it.

Geordie
turned his back.  “Get that sack down.  Show me the text messages.”

Bandaged
man fired a few rounds at the rope that suspended it.  The gunfire
ceased.  Geordie pointed his gun at the remainder of Machete’s men and
ordered them to get the sack down.  They climbed onto each other’s
shoulders, trying to hook it with long sticks which Joe passed to them. 

The
cold hand of panic slackened its grasp on me.  The gun was no longer
pointed at Kate.   

After
ensuring I’d switched to the correct channel, I pressed the radio to my mouth
and whispered through trembling lips.  “Dylan?  Steve?  Someone
has to help Kate.  They’re not watching her.  Is there any chance of
reaching her from the cliff side of the lake?”  I hung the radio back on
my belt.  A plank creaked under my step.  I dropped to my knees,
slipped and fell against the railing with a thud.  Oh, crap.  I
froze, biting my lip.

"Up
there," a gangster shouted.  “Someone’s in those trees.”

Hell!
 Move it.  Now.

Wincing
inside, I trod whisper-quiet along the platform.  Several heavy breaths
later, my ears rung from a series of gunshots.  A wisp of air passed my
cheek and leaves fluttered in front.  “Shit.”

I
flung myself behind the tree trunk.  A short yelp escaped me.  I
slumped onto my bottom and hugged my rattling knees.  I slapped a hand
over my mouth to stop a scream that would betray my location.

It
didn’t matter.  They knew.

“It’s
a woman.  It must be Jenna,” Joe yelled.  

“Look. 
There’s a platform half way up that tree,” a man said.  “Get her.”  

Someone
fired at me.  

With
a crack, the bullet embedded in the tree that served as my shield, impacting a
couple of inches from my head.  I stiffened in shock, but soon heard the
rustle and fast patter of feet trampling the undergrowth.  Two sets of
footsteps approached my platform.

“Got
it,” a man shouted from down in the clearing.

"Good,”
Geordie replied, then hollered, “Kill her!  Kill them all!"

Barely
able to see in the darkness, I reached a hand up over my head and felt around
for the safety line.  After fumbling to unhook my harness from it, I
grabbed the binoculars and chucked them as far into the bushes as I could,
hoping those below would follow the sound.

The
rapid slapping of feet through undergrowth came from behind me, from the back
of the park.  Who was that?  Branches snapped and twigs crunched below,
then faded away in the direction of the binoculars.  I let out a tense,
silent breath of relief, but had to move.  Whoever was down there would
realise they’d been duped and return.

My
shoulder bumped against the knife stuck in the tree.  I yanked it free. 
Feeling a degree braver with a weapon in hand, I crouched and took four soft
strides toward the suspension bridge attached to the platform.  I stepped
onto it while grunts and thumping sounds poured into my ears from the forest
floor somewhere nearby.  Was someone attacking the men who were hunting
for me?  Dylan?

In
the darkness, the bridge creaked and swayed fluidly beneath me.  Leaves
and shadowed branches raked my body as I crossed.  I tucked the knife into
my belt and gripped the rope railing on both sides.  I tried to keep
balance while picking up speed.  Planks juddered underfoot as I hurried
along, my heart pounding, my breath ragged. 

The
bouncing bridge dipped hard and sudden in the centre.  I stumbled forward,
lost balance on my weak ankle and slammed down hard on my bottom.  My
right leg slipped between the rungs and I fell against the safety
netting.  My knee stung.  Swear words filled my head. 

As
I pulled my dangling leg out of the gap, Dylan’s electronic voice crackled my
name through the radio on my belt.  Oh, Jesus.  He was okay.  My
heart gave a jolt in delight, then raw panic set in.  Whoever was hunting
me could have heard him, too.  I fumbled around, all fingers and useless
thumbs trying to shut off his voice.  “Jenna,” he said again. “They’ve got
your phone and they’re hunting for you.  Steve’s gonna make a grab for
Kate.  I’ll try to stop the others from going after you.  Keep
moving.  I took one guy out but there’s another still in the woods on your
trail and I can’t find him.  Head for the back gates and don’t stop for
anything.”

Something
rustled beneath me again.  Closer this time.  I froze three-quarters
of the way along the bridge and a tear rolled out of my eye.  Was it
wildlife?  The wind?  The person hunting me?  With one burst of
breath, I pushed myself upright, kept my gaze forward.  I ran the last few
metres of the bridge and launched myself onto the hard, planked platform.
 

Geordie
shouted, "Show me the texts," then something else I couldn't make out
because of the distance.

I
heard grunts, shrieks and shouting from the clearing.  Whatever was going
on down there sounded bad - really bad.  I prayed Dylan was not part of
it.

Somebody
whistled from the woods nearby. 

I
crawled along platform two and rounded its central tree, feeling like a bag of
rattling teeth and bones.   I struggled to find my bearings through
the dark grey and blue shadows. 

“Stop
right there!” A man shouted from below, causing my chest to tighten and tears
to wet my cheeks. 

That
voice...? 
Oh,
crap.  It was stun-gun man. 

I
flattened my stomach to the planks.

He
whistled, loud and sharp.  “I’ve found her,” he shouted, then lowered his
voice.  “Move to the edge.  Show me your hands or I’ll shoot.”