Death Trip. Lee Weeks
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Название: Death Trip

Автор: Lee Weeks

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Приключения: прочее

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isbn: 9780008185268

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СКАЧАТЬ the cat ate its food. Laughter drifted up from the street below. Magda held her face in her hands and closed her eyes as she said: ‘We can’t wait any longer. We don’t have the time. I don’t have the time. I must have him home now. Please God, before I die, let me know he is safe. They say we have to be patient. They tell us—it will be all right. They will survive. They will come home. No one will die.’ She shook her head as if suddenly it was all too much, all hope had left her. She stared at her hands for a few seconds before lifting her head and looking straight into Mann’s eyes. Her eyes were glassy like cloudy sapphires. ‘It doesn’t matter what they say. I am so close to my son. We dream the same dreams sometimes.’ She gave a sad smile. Tears fell freely now and landed on the map. ‘Now, every bone in my body, every beat of my heart, tells me my boy needs me, and every day takes him further from me and takes us both closer to death.’

       9

      Jake knew how much his mum would be missing him right now. He managed to slip his hand into his pocket and pull out the piece of paper. It was a photograph of them together on the beach. He unfolded its corner just enough to glimpse Magda’s smiling face looking back at him. Jake didn’t know what had made him print out the photo when they stopped at an internet café on the way up to Chiang Mai but he was so grateful that he had. Now the photo gave him hope that he would see his mother again. He knew that she would be thinking of him at that exact moment because they were so alike. Silently he told her that he loved her. He folded it back up and eased it into his pocket; he would not be able to open it again many more times; it was deeply creased where it had been folded too many times. From where they lay on a rough mattress of ferns and forest debris Jake could see the distant lights of a town. Across from them, the five porters, four women and an old man, huddled together forlornly. Saw had forced them to come with them from the last village they had stayed in. Jake hadn’t seen them eat anything for days. They were being worked to death, carrying the heavy loads and never allowed to stop for a rest. He looked around at Saw’s men, they were drinking heavily and fights were breaking out. It was always the same when Saw left them.

      He had disappeared as soon as they made camp for the evening. From his place by the fire Weasel was watching Jake and the others. Jake looked across at Thomas. He felt terrible for him. He felt frightened for them all. Until today the attacks had just been threats: now they were real.

      ‘If he comes near me again—I will fucking kill him.’ It was the first time Thomas had spoken all evening.

      ‘It’s all right, Thomas. It’s all right…’ Silke wrapped her arms around him as Thomas buried his head in his knees and continued rocking. Eventually he went quiet as he lay on his side. Jake could see that his eyes were wide open. Jake wanted to say something to help Thomas but he didn’t know what. Jake had never felt more helpless in all his life as he did now. He looked over at Weasel watching them.

      ‘Silke, sit up…’ said Jake.

      ‘But Thomas is my brother. He needs me.’ Silke held Thomas and hugged him.

      ‘You will make it worse for him. They think we’re all pathetic enough,’ whispered Jake.

      ‘I don’t care…’

      ‘No, Silke, Jake is right. Please…’ Thomas gently pushed her away and drew his knees back into his chest. ‘Don’t worry. I’m okay.’

      ‘Walk in the middle of us tomorrow, Thomas,’ said Jake. ‘Don’t give Weasel a chance to…’ Jake stopped mid-sentence as Thomas rocked violently back and forth and moaned and cried. Silke went to hold him again but he turned away from her.

      ‘You don’t know what he tried to do to me…If Saw hadn’t stopped him because he was in such a hurry to keep moving, he would have done more.’ In the moonlight Jake could see Thomas’s eyes were full of tears, his face stretched tight and terrified. ‘You don’t know what he did to me, Silke.’ Silke put her hand on his arm. ‘No. Don’t, please, Silke, don’t touch me.’

      ‘You couldn’t have done anything, Thomas,’ Jake whispered as he looked across at Weasel, still with his eyes fixed on the group. ‘That bastard Weasel is a psycho.’

      ‘None of us could have done anything, Thomas,’ said Lucas and he looked across at Jake. Both of them seemed to hit on the same thought at the same time.

      ‘We need to escape.’ Jake looked across to Lucas. He nodded. Thomas said nothing. Anna smiled and nodded but Silke looked worried. ‘Saw’s gone somewhere tonight. I saw him leave. If he’s still gone tomorrow, then that’s our chance.’

      ‘How?’ whispered Thomas.

      ‘When one of the girls is tied to Toad,’ said Jake.

      ‘Yes, when it’s steep and he has to hold on to the branches, then he lets go of the rope around our neck,’ explained Anna.

      ‘Then that’s what we aim for,’ said Jake. ‘It’s getting steeper every day. We stay close and wait for our chance. We take our time, then hang back. Saw’s men will go ahead.’

      ‘Weasel’s always running on. He hates going slow,’ said Anna.

      ‘Yes, then we’ll be left with just Toad,’ agreed Lucas.

      ‘We keep an eye on Toad, make sure Handsome and Weasel are at the front, and we jump Toad at the back. We jump him, cut our ties, take his weapons and run.’

      ‘We will have to kill him,’ said Anna. ‘Who’s going to do it?’ asked Silke.

      They looked at one another. There was silence.

      ‘I will,’ replied Jake.

       10

      As Mann left the hotel the icy wind hit him full in the face. He pulled the collar of his navy cashmere coat up around his neck and he dug his hands into his pockets as the bitter chill made his eyes water. It had been a long time since he was this cold—probably not since he ran around a freezing rugby field in England when he was at school. He had left behind a beautiful thirty-degree day in Hong Kong to come to windchill factor six below in Amsterdam. Spring looked like coming late to the tulip fields that year.

      There was a lull on the streets as the rush to work was over and the tourists were not yet out in force. Mann cut a smart figure striding athletically across the cobbles, his eyes always fixed on the horizon. In the melting pot of Amsterdam society his Eurasian ethnicity, his mix of Chinese and English, didn’t look out of place, though his tanned face stuck out amongst the pasty look of people emerging from a European winter.

      The place he was looking for was situated on a side street in a five-storey merchant house that had once been a beautiful eighteenth-century building and was now carved up into at least thirty companies. Mann found the right intercom. He pressed the buzzer. There was a loud click as the heavy door lock was released and he was buzzed up. Standing in the hallway, he looked at the board of company names in the hall. NAP was on the second floor.

      There was the sound of clacking keyboards and muted telephone conversations as he emerged onto the second floor. NAP was one of three companies that had their offices there. The NAP office door was open. There were six desks that Mann could СКАЧАТЬ