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<h1>34</h1>
<p>....<em>It's going to.....</em></p>
<p>The bindings parted with a savage crack. All of them gave at the
same time and the thick branch whipped up, swiping through the air
in a vicious whoop. It unleashed in a blur, uncoiling as all the
latent tension punched upwards, like the arm of a siege catapult.
The sudden violent motion threw Corky backwards.</p>
<p>"....<em>Go!</em>"</p>
<p>Danny blurted the word just as Corky slammed into him. Both of
them landed beside Doug on the short, tough grass only inches from
the drop-off. Danny instinctively grabbed a thick tuft to stop the
pair of them rolling over the edge and tumbling down the scree</p>
<p>The forked branch carried the bomb up, reached the end of its
travel, slammed against the cross-trunk and once again the whole
tree shook from the roots upwards in a seizmic shudder. A
scattering of leaves exploded outwards. The branch hit the trunk,
rebounded, slammed in again and stopped dead, but the bomb simply
kept on travelling, almost straight up into the air, thrown off its
cradle with the huge and sudden acceleration.</p>
<p>It went on up, a black and heavy shape, soaring into the sky,
wobbling just a little on its tail. The fins were clearly outlined
against the cloudless blue of the morning.</p>
<p>"Christ on a bike, I thought it got you," Doug gasped, but only
Danny heard him, and that very faintly. His attention was fixed on
the rising black bomb. Corky was lying athwart him, face up, mouth
agape. Over on the far side, beyond the tree, Billy and Doug stood,
eyes wide, stunned by the catapult crack that had sounded so much
like a pistol-shot, sounded too much like the sound of a club
against a skull.</p>
<p>The bomb was travelling upwards, thick and massive, a solid
black zeppelin, defying gravity. Its ascension transfixed them
all.</p>
<p>Danny's breathing stopped and the whole world seemed to freeze
into a sludgy, slow motion. The bomb rose up and up.</p>
<p><em>"It's going to...it's going to..."</em> His own words were
still ringing in his ears, along with the air-shattering crack of
the branch slamming the cross-trunk, and Doug's blurt, all of them
jangled together, encapsulated in the focus of that single moment
of time.</p>
<p>Billy Harrison saw the thing soar, unable for the moment to
comprehend what had happened. Tom's body was in the act of turning,
as if flinching from the whiplash of the tree. A deep vibration
shivered in the ground, almost able to be heard in a thrumming
tremor. Hawthorn leaves floated in a wide slow halo of green around
the tree and pieces of old bark scattered like shrapnel from the
trunk. The bomb soared upwards and it snared Billy's eyes, a black
and powerful silhouette, shark fins jutting out from the tail.</p>
<p><em>"What's happening?"</em> he heard his own voice ask, inside
his head. The moment was somehow charged with a inexplicable and
powerful energy. His heart was beating, still fast, squeezing
inside his chest, but he felt it like a slow pulse and the harsh
whiplash of the tree seemed to stretch out and develop a bass thrum
which matched the deep vibration under his feet.</p>
<p>"<em>Want to cross over? Eh boy?"</em></p>
<p>The monster had dragged him into the tent and broken him.</p>
<p><em>Tried to kill him!</em> He had lashed out with the ballpeen
hammer, feeling it hit in meaty thuds, wanting to break and shatter
and destroy.</p>
<p>The mad man had taken him down to the water he had gone down
into the valley, into the shadow, and death had been hovering
nearby. Pain throbbed up from the tender, torn skin and the bomb
was going up and up, expanding, rather than diminishing in his
consciousness, powerful and mesmerising. Billy stood slack-jawed,
watching it, as if his life depended on it; unable to look away,
despite the need to be up on the moor and gone.</p>
<p>Tom Tannahill was half turned and his face tilted to the sky.
The panic and exhaustion had squeezed at him so tightly that a
little dribble of urine had spurted out to stain the front of his
jeans. The bomb rose up.....</p>
<p><em>"Sorry Tommy, just trying to say, okay</em>?"</p>
<p>Corky had looked over at him with eyes like fine glass, so
fragile they could break and shatter and they focused on him with
such powerful regret and sorrow that it had reached and soothed a
cooling balm into the raw open wound of his hurt.</p>
<p><em>Read me the story Tom, would you?</em> Little Maureen's slow
voice and the bruises under her eyes and the paunchy, sick swelling
of her skin. <em>I need to go to the bathroom Tom. I need to
go.</em> And she had gone and everything in his life burst
asunder.</p>
<p>Now the bomb was going up and it held him, held everything that
he was, in that one brittle fragment of time. He held on to it, the
fear magically numbed away.</p>
<p>Doug Nicol was on the grass, braced for balance, behind Danny
and Corky. <em>Hells bells!</em> It was going up, heavy and
thunderous, rising like a black stone.</p>
<p>The rock had gone up, raised high in his two hands and then it
had come slamming down and something had snapped with the sound of
a branch cracking, like the sound of the string breaking, the noise
of the hawthorn limb smashing upwards against the trunk. The bomb
was up.</p>
<p>The first one had missed and they could have got him this time,
but the knife had sliced wrong and their last weapon was gone. They
could have used it like the campfire stone, just a weight to crush
and break.. Now the bomb was up, on its own course, not theirs,
dragging his eyes with it.</p>
<p><em>Bugsylugs, Bugsylugs,</em> Billy's voice taunted in the
background of his mind and he ignored it. That had been then,
before this <em>now</em>. The taunt was meaningless, its power
gone.</p>
<p>There was a red pain across his neck, where the wire had bit
into him. It had been worth it.</p>
<p><em>Did my best, honest to God.</em> He had done his best.
Together they had almost beaten him. Almost. Nearly. The bomb rose
up and up, for that strange and unreal moment filling the entire
sky.</p>
<p>John Corcoran watched it, sharp black against the light blue,
black as the gaping barrel of the shotgun up against his eye. The
crack of the branch had been like the crash of the pin against the
empty chamber; world shattering, devastating. Numbing.</p>
<p><em>Nothing happened. Nothing happened!</em></p>
<p>The air had whooped when the bough had uncoiled like the strike
of some knotted brown snake. He watched the bomb float up and away,
heavy and blunt and somehow mindlessly vicious.</p>
<p><em>See how you like it, you crazy fucking</em> bastard!</p>
<p>The pin had come down on an empty space again. <em>Nothing
happened</em>.</p>
<p>"<em>Kill him</em>." Somebody had said from far away. Under his
back, the earth shuddered violentlyThe crack of the parting string
and the crack of the shotgun's firing pin resounded inside him,
with the jar of his teeth on wire, on and on and on, a mental
ricochet that seemed as if it might go on forever.</p>
<p>"<em>Kill him!"</em> Somebody had demanded and he had not
hesitated, because the voice had really been his own and this could
be the last time, this <em>would</em> be the last time and Corky
felt the quivering violence and he'd punched forward, felt the thud
and then the fruity slide as the blade went in and the blood came
out to make a butterfly pattern on the tent.</p>
<p>He'd done it again, twice, thrice.</p>
<p><em>And again he defied him.</em> The voice had been mad and
dreamy, black and rising, like the bomb soaring into the air.</p>
<p><em>You afraid boy? You scared?</em> Not of you, you creepy mad
cunt! But he was afraid. Really and truly. He could feel it in the
grind of his teeth.</p>
<p><em>If thine eye offends me. Pluck it....</em>And the black
rising shape held him now.</p>
<p>The bomb went up and Danny Gillan watched it, black as the
valley of the shadow of death. Danny soared with it, numbed. <em>Up
and over, up and over,</em> the litany that had kept him going up
the slope while exhaustion and pain dragged at him and fear tried
to paralyse him.</p>
<p><em>Denied me thrice.</em> The night had been filled with the
sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth on a hard steel wire.
<em>Bad luck, Danny Boy.</em> He had knocked the heron out of the
air and brought bad luck down upon them all.</p>
<p>The bomb was floating there, huge in the sky above them.
<em>Dung fly!</em></p>
<p>What did <em>that</em> mean? <em>What....?</em></p>
<p>The bomb found the reach of its trajectory, slowing down at the
apex, the tail now beginning to rise up. It wobbled, seemed to stop
still in the air, then, just as slowly, tilted, turned, began to
drop.</p>
<p>The strange little bubble of time that had held them, it burst
silently, threw them clear.</p>
<p>"Watch out," Doug found his voice. A spittle of saliva spat out
with the words. "It's going to..."</p>
<p>He flinched back. The bomb fell straight down, all of two yards
out from the edge. It had seemed to go straight up, but the
uncoiling branch had thrown it forward too. It dropped like a
stone, still wobbling a little, blunt end down. They turned to
follow its progress. Down below, something pale fluttered, it was
the man's face twisting upwards towards the sky and the black
shape.</p>
<p>The bomb plummeted towards him. His mouth opened and he yelled
something, jumped backwards with both arms outstretched, his skin
white against the grey of the shale, streaked scarlet with blood.
He missed his footing, rolled and skittered halfway down.</p>
<p>The bomb hit the soft slope, dug in a little, but its momentum
ploughed it forward and it bounced out, somersaulting once, heading
for the ledge of mudstone rubble twenty yards from where the first
one had landed, but close to where the third bomb from the previous
attempts had rolled in the shale. It hit the mudstone, tail first.
A piece of tailfin flicked off and it too spun, whirling, straight
for the soft shale bank.</p>
<p>The man bellowed in lunatic triumph, despite the fact that he'd
slid down the incline almost as far as the basin of the corrie.</p>
<p>The bomb bounced fast straight towards where the other stubby
black shape lay. They watched it, all five of them, high on the
side of the gorge, unable to draw their eyes away.</p>
<p>It hit.</p>
<p>The whole world turned a brilliant, searing, blinding white.</p>
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