The Hunt: ‘A great thriller...breathless all the way’ – LEE CHILD

‘I have no idea what you’re doing,’ Chris said. He sounded pathetic, pleading, but Rose did not react. Whatever she said about them – the Trail, whoever they were – seemed to apply to her as well.

‘Rucksack in the back. Take what’s useful from the bag they gave you, too.’

‘What’s—’

‘Shut the fuck up!’ she snapped, glaring at him for a second then looking ahead again.

Chris reached into the back seat and snagged the rucksack resting there. It was a good one, a forty-litre day sack that he might well have chosen for himself. Several access zips, a waterproof cover in the base, small hip pockets on the waist strap. A whistle and compass built into the shoulder straps. Hydration bladder. It was heavy, and he grunted as he lifted it over into his lap.

For a moment he considered slamming the bag against Rose. He could knock her head against the doorpost, grab the wheel, steer them off the road and into a stone wall. While she struggled he could grab the gun from between her knees and press it into her stomach, and then everything would change. Then he would be in charge, and all the answers he sought would come tumbling from her mouth.

Except … he wasn’t sure they would. She would only tell him what she wanted him to know, gun or no gun. She was like no one he knew – one of them, those people he knew existed but whom he had always hoped he would never have to meet. Violent, brutal, a sharp edge in a life he’d strived to make so smooth. And he had never touched a gun in his life.

She glanced at him, as if reading his mind. Then she frowned and leaned to the side, concentrating on the road but listening for something else.

‘They’re close,’ she said. ‘We don’t have long. I’ll be leaving you soon.’

‘And going where?’

‘Check the bag.’

‘Do you know where my family is?’

Rose shook her head.

‘You do. You know.’

‘I don’t know! But as long as you’re going along with things, they’ll be safe. They’ll stay alive.’ Rose was looking up and around as she drove, trying to spot the helicopter only she could hear.

‘Yours didn’t.’

‘That’s because I didn’t play ball.’

‘So what do I have to do?’ Chris asked. He opened the rucksack and looked inside, knocked sideways for a moment by finding everything so familiar. New running trousers, base layers, weatherproof jacket, survival kit, energy gels, GPS watch, penknife, some energy bars, freeze-dried food packets. And a phone. ‘What the hell … ?’

‘There,’ Rose said. ‘We don’t have long.’ She changed down a gear and pressed on the gas, powering them up the steep, winding road that headed for a low ridge between two monolithic peaks. Chris leaned forward and looked up and ahead of them, and after a few moments he saw the shadow of a helicopter moving against the mountains across the valley. It looked so small against that vast landscape, but he could tell it was larger than a private chopper. Military, perhaps.

‘Rose, please. Please help me. Tell me what’s going on.’

‘You’re going to get out of the car and start running. I’m going to lead them off. That’ll give you a head start.’

‘But why?’

‘Because they’ll be hunting you.’

‘What?’

‘This is a hunt. You’re the prey.’

He shook his head, trying to make sense of anything she was saying. That distance he’d felt back at the house – drawing him back from events, allowing him to react without going mad – suddenly seemed shakier than ever, and fear flooded in once more. His head still throbbed. A cool, sharp pain pulsed across his temple where Rose had hit him, and just thinking of that assault made him feel sick. He’d never been attacked like that before. He felt sick.

‘The Trail provide people for rich clients to hunt.’

‘What, like chase down? Catch?’

‘Kill.’

Chris shook his head. He couldn’t take it in. Kill?

‘It’s a trophy hunt,’ Rose went on. ‘Like with lions and elephant in Africa, except this is with people. You’re the target. There’ll be some fat rich fucks in that helicopter who’ve paid millions each to hunt and kill you. The Trail set it up, provide everything they need – training, weapons, backup and support. They ensure there’re no repercussions. Except I’ve changed their plans a little. This one was supposed to take place in Cardiff Bay and the docklands. The Trail would have steered you here and there, made sure you did all the right things. It’s set up, completely, and when they felt the time was right and everything was safe, they’d have engineered the kill. Cleared up the mess, sent everyone home. Big money.’

‘Big money. Money? You’re doing this for … ?’

‘I’m doing this because I escaped my hunt, and because of that the Trail murdered my family. And now I’m going to kill them. All of them. See? Understand?’

‘I can’t escape,’ Chris said softly.

‘No. But you can run. They know that, which is why they chose you. But by bringing you up here, into the wild, I’ve done you a favour. You have an advantage over the rich fat fucks now, and whatever the Trail had set up in Cardiff is useless to them. It’ll all last much longer.’

‘But my wife. My girls.’

‘Are safe while you’re still on the run.’

Chris closed his eyes and tried to take it all in. It was impossible to digest, too huge to contemplate. Too unbelievable.

‘It’s a joke,’ he said. He even managed a small laugh. ‘A wind-up. Reality TV, or something. Derren Brown’s hypnotised me.’

Rose said nothing. He saw the dried blood on her hands, remembered what she had done. That had all been real. Nothing like that could be faked, not without movie trickery. He’d been there to smell the blood, hear it hitting the ground, see the ragged mess of the man’s throat, see the impact of bullets.

‘It’s real,’ he muttered. Rose glanced across at him, then pointed.

‘There,’ she said. ‘By that spur of rock on the ridge. That’s where you get out. Hide for a bit, get ready. You’ll know when to head off.’

‘How?’

‘When they get there.’ She slammed on the brakes, turned to him. He thought perhaps she’d hand him the gun, but she didn’t. Maybe that would make things too easy for him.

‘You don’t give a shit about me,’ Chris said, and a glimmer of something passed across Rose’s face, an expression he could not identify. Then she smiled, and for the first time it seemed almost genuine.

‘There’s a phone in the rucksack. It has my number, only mine. I’ll do my best to look after you. But I’m going to be busy, and you have to look after yourself, too.’

He could hear the helicopter now, rapidly coming closer. He stared at Rose. She wasn’t about to change her mind. Nothing was going to change, and Chris knew that he had to take action.

‘What happens to my family if they kill me?’

‘Usually they’re let go if the hunt’s successful.’

‘Usually? How many times—’