The Dark Side of the Island - Jack Higgins [33]
He paused in the shelter of an olive tree and looked down into the hollow. The farm lay dark and still, rooted solidly into the ground, and he moved on down and ducked under the fence.
He paused at the horse trough, splashed water over his face with one hand and washed out his mouth. As he straightened, the barn door opened and Katina emerged.
"I was up in the loft watching for you," she said. "I'd begun to think you were never coming."
He sensed immediately that something was wrong and moved closer, peering down at her. "Where's Boyd?"
There was a moment's silence before she said slowly, "In the first stall. I couldn't get him any further."
Something in her voice told him what he would find, but he moved inside quickly, taking his electric torch from his pocket.
Boyd lay on his back in the straw, his sightless eyes partially retracted, the hands that had been folded neatly across his breast, already cold and stiff.
"He was all right until we reached the top of the hill," Katina said in a dead voice. "And then he had a haemorrhage. I've never seen so much blood. It took me nearly an hour to get him down here."
She started to cry and he dropped the Winchester and pulled her into his arms. Her slight body was racked with sobs and he held her close and gently stroked her hair.
After a while, she seemed to have control of herself and moved away. "I'm sorry. I'm behaving like a child. You should be getting down to the bay. You haven't got much time."
He was tired, more tired than he had been in four long years and nothing seemed to matter any longer. He took out a cigarette, lit it and blew out the smoke with a sigh and high up on the hillside the clear bell-like cry of a hound sounded on the night air.
She gripped his arm quickly and he said, "I thought I'd lost them in a water-course a mile back. It seems I was mistaken."
"There's still time," she said urgently.
He shook his head. "For you, Katina, but not for me. I'll try to lead them away. The moment the shooting starts slip out through the olive grove and work your way back over the mountain. I'll leave you the Winchester. It comes to pieces so you should be able to hide it easily."
"I won't leave you," she said.
He gripped her arms tightly. "Father John was right about me. Fighting and running, leaving other people to face the consequences. It's time I took some of the blame myself."
"But what purpose will it serve?" she said desperately.
"I don't know," he said. "It may help the people of Kyros, it may not. It'll be worth it if it only helps you."
She was crying again, her head against his chest. He tilted her chin, kissed her on the mouth once and then pushed her gently away. With a quick jerk he snapped the gold chain around his neck and dropped it and the coin into her hand. "I won't be needing this again."
He pulled Boyd into a sitting position, stooped and tilted him over one shoulder. The body was surprisingly light and when he moved outside, the cold rain stung his face, giving him a new energy.
The dogs were very close now and as he crossed the yard and moved along the track, they came over the crest of the hill above his head.
He broke into a shambling run and after a while turned off the track and moved across the barren hillside. He paused on top of a small rise, laid Boyd carefully down and turned, unslinging his machine gun.
They were coming down through the olive grove now and he loosed off a long burst. The dogs howled excitedly and he heard shouts and several shots were fired in reply.
He turned and started to run, but for some reason his legs refused to function properly and he tripped and fell heavily over a stone.
For a little while he lay there half-stunned and then he struggled to his feet. They had skirted the farm and were running along the track, men and dogs in full cry.
He raised the sub-machine gun and pressed the trigger,