Pirate - Duncan Falconer [61]
Up he sprang. The crest was metres away. A bullet slammed across his back. He felt it burn like a branding iron. Another bullet hit his lower leg somewhere but his movement was not affected. He dived for the ridge and rolled over it. Bullets tore up the crest behind him. He scrambled to his feet and pushed on.
He could see the girl further down the slope running as fast as she could. She glanced back to see Stratton coming after her and as she faced the front again she tripped and went sprawling down the slope. Dazed, she clambered to her feet just as Stratton caught up with her. He grabbed her shirt and yanked her on, keeping hold of her until she was running with him.
They heard the crash of rifle fire in their direction and the sound of bullets slashing into the ground nearby. Stratton couldn’t feel the pain in his back and leg, his adrenaline pumping hard through his veins. He wondered if the warriors would use the pick-ups. All the more reason for them to get to the river as soon as humanly possible.
They came to the bottom of the trough and ran hard to the top of the next rise. A handful of jihadists had made it to the crest behind them and opened fire. Stratton heard the girl make a grunting sound behind him. He quickly looked back to see if she had been hit. She appeared to have twisted her ankle but not enough to slow her by much and she soon recovered to keep up with him.
As several more rounds struck around them, they tore over the crest and down the other side. Out of sight of their pursuers. But not for long if they didn’t keep up the pace.
Their next target was a couple of hundred metres away. The ground levelled out as they headed for the river. Dense scrub covered the broad lowland plain up ahead. Thin and patchy knee-high bushes grew on the outskirts but thick foliage was not far beyond.
They reached the low brush without a shot being fired at them. Stratton could feel his heart pounding in his chest with the effort but he would keep up the pace until it exploded. It was that or a bullet in the back.
The rounds came at them again but sporadic and poorly aimed. Only a handful of the faster warriors had made it to the rise behind them and these men were not great shots. The AK-47 wasn’t accurate at long range.
The denser bushes looked like a dark-green wall and Stratton crashed right through, the brittle twigs painfully scratching and cutting his skin. The girl followed his path and although spared having to make the way through was whipped heavily by the catapulting branches he created.
Running quickly became impossible as the scrub density increased. They maintained as fast a walk as they could. Pushing their way through. The bushes were now above their waists but they were still targets. They finally made the higher foliage and went inside. The density only increased. They were making a lot of noise. Stratton was aware that at some point they would have to compromise speed for sound and reduced disturbance – the moving tops of the bushes would give away their position. He wanted to get closer to the river before they went to ground so that they could quench their thirsts. He knew that however bad he felt, the girl was going to be in a far worse state. He could feel and hear she was close by and still pushing on relentlessly.
Stratton crouched lower and they struck some really thick scrub so he paused to catch his breath and assess the situation. He could hear the jihadists crashing through the bush back where they had entered the mass. The thick bushes ahead of them were like barbed wire: hard to get through but still easy enough to see through. They didn’t provide great cover from view. If anyone came within ten metres or so, they were likely to see them.
They had to remove the evidence of their train and Stratton got down on to his belly and began crawling between the bushes. The girl followed.
A sudden crash from a nearby flank and Stratton