The Survivors, стр. 92
Can we find them all?
They could be anywhere.
Kieran stared into the yawning mouth of the cave, and the blackness inside. The eerie sensation of something watching and waiting trickled through him once more. He stood on high alert, but he could hear nothing but the heartbeat pulse of the ocean.
He could go in, step through the entrance and into the gloom. He could speed this up. But he had already spent too long mentally navigating the dark of those caves, wandering exhausted over the same old ground. Battling to change something that couldn’t be changed, instead of trying to find his way out to the light.
Enough, Kieran thought. It was time to stop.
He stepped away. The sea water was creeping around his feet. He didn’t need to go in. High tide had a way of washing everything out.
Kieran turned. He walked the few steps across the sand back to the path, then went up a short way, settling for a point just out of sight of the cave and well out of reach of the lick of the tide. He sat, and he watched the water slither in. Above him, the cliff path remained deserted. Below, the beach slowly disappeared.
Kieran waited as the birds circled overhead, watchful and wary, calling to him that he was right. But as the sea crept closer and time ticked on, he slowly began to wonder. He was still arguing with himself when he sensed rather than heard it. A splash of movement.
Kieran stayed very still and stared at the edge of the cave, holding his breath as the seconds trickled by. He thought he might have imagined it and then, all at once from the blackness, a figure appeared. He watched as the figure waded out, knee-deep in water, bag over shoulder.
Kieran breathed out. It was what he’d expected, but it was still a shock. The figure turned towards the path, saw him and froze.
Kieran stood, a little unsteady on his feet. For a long moment, the only sound was the slap of waves hitting the rock, then he opened his mouth.
‘Did you find it yet?’ Kieran’s voice echoed off the cliffs.
A silence. Deliberate and calculating. ‘Find what?’
‘The message Gabby Birch scratched into the rock on the day she died.’
Chapter 37
Kieran waited, the blood rushing fast and loud in his ears.
Knee-deep in the water, Sean stared back at him.
Sean’s hair was damp and the sea water had soaked his clothes, darkening the colours. He didn’t speak, but his head tilted in a familiar way that Kieran knew meant he was thinking. Kieran pointed at the bag over his shoulder.
‘What’ve you got in there? Chisel? File? You’d need it.’ Kieran took a few steps down the path until he could see the mouth of the North Cave, where the names casually carved more than twelve years ago still scarred the rock face. ‘Those markings stick around forever.’
Kieran looked at Sean, who had been his friend for as long as he could remember. Deny it, he wanted to say. Please, mate. Tell me I’m wrong.
Sean’s face flickered and Kieran felt a surge of hope. Then, as he watched, Sean’s gaze slid past him. Across the deserted beach. Up the empty cliff path.
They were alone.
When Sean’s eyes met his again, Kieran could feel that fact being closely considered. He took a breath.
‘Pendlebury knows.’ Kieran managed to sound more confident than he felt. ‘She’s worked it out. Close enough, anyway. I could tell, the other day when she was down here. She’s got Bronte’s photos. She’s got a picture of your name carved in the rock. The letters are blurred, so I didn’t notice at first. And it looks pretty similar, but it’s not the same. It’s your name, mate, but I know you didn’t write it.’
Kieran could see the salt water rushing into the North Cave, disappearing into the hole.
‘You were right about damaging the caves. It was bloody stupid and I know you tried to tell us, and we wouldn’t listen. You were right and we were idiots.’ Kieran saw Sean’s mouth tighten. ‘But you did do it once. Because I pushed you into it. And I know you felt bad afterwards. You felt so bad that I feel really sure – knowing you, mate – that you wouldn’t have done it again. So if your name is somewhere else in this cave, who scratched it there?’ Kieran looked at his friend. ‘And what else did they write?’
Sean had turned his head and was now staring at the sea, past The Survivors and out to where his beloved wreck lay invisible under the waves. The water foamed and swirled around him.
‘Pendlebury will find it,’ Kieran said. ‘Sean? She’ll work it out and then she’ll bring in all the back-up she needs and they’ll search this whole place until they find it.’
As he said the words, he remembered Pendlebury’s face as they had stood at the mouth of the cave, and felt instinctively that what he was saying was true. If she wasn’t there yet, it was only lack of local knowledge that was keeping her half a step behind. That wouldn’t last long, he knew. Kieran looked at Sean and could tell, from the slack weariness in his eyes, that he knew it too.
‘Had Bronte guessed?’ Kieran said.
Sean’s face creased and he gave a tiny shake of his head.
‘But she would have?’ Kieran said. ‘Or you were worried she’d tell someone else who would?’
No shake of the head