The Hike(26)

The man gave Ginny a small nod. ‘There is a shorter route. You might want to take this.’ He frowned, thinking to himself. ‘Maybe thirty minutes to the bottom, once you take the steep climb of fifteen.’

Tristan took out his map. ‘Right, can you show us?’

The man took them all in. ‘The climb is quite steep . . . you will all manage it though, I hope.’

‘We’ll manage it,’ Paul said, muscling in to get a look at the map.

Eventually, after much pointing and shrugging between the three men, the shepherd – if that’s really what he was – gave them a little wave and headed off back the other way. ‘I will find my sheeps,’ he said. ‘Au revoir.’

Ginny suppressed a giggle.

‘Let’s go.’ Tristan and Paul had already started walking.

The boys didn’t seem too bothered about the shepherd. They hadn’t seemed to recognise him. It was definitely her tired mind playing tricks. Wasn’t it? She pulled Cat back beside her. ‘Are you sure that’s not that bloke from the restaurant? Seems a bit weird. He definitely looked familiar.’

‘Did you even see him properly, Gins? He was never facing you in there. I talked to that man at the bar, remember? That shepherd guy is definitely not him.’

Ginny shrugged. She didn’t know why she felt so bothered. Neither of the men in question had done any of them any harm. She tried to push it out of her mind, and carried on walking.

The path snaked out on to the side of the mountain and Ginny gasped. ‘Wow. This is incredible.’ They were high above the valley floor. The mountains opposite were harsh and jagged, but a vision of natural beauty that literally took her breath away. The sky seemed to go on forever, a bright, clear blue with not a cloud in sight. Then she saw the route they were taking, and felt a flurry of nerves. It was steep. And her feet were already ragged from the friction on her heels. And still, a little niggle of doubt came back to her.

‘What if he’s following us and waiting until we get tired before he comes to rob us . . .’ She paused, eyeing the path ahead cautiously. ‘Or worse – he could be waiting to find the right moment to kill us.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Cat said. There was a hint of incredulous laughter in her voice, but to Ginny, it sounded forced. Unflappable Cat was definitely flapped. Being stalked and murdered on a mountain was definitely not part of the plan. But Cat had a plan. Ginny was sure of that. She just couldn’t work out exactly what it was.

Ginny took a deep breath and braced herself for the climb.





Twenty

SATURDAY EVENING

Cat was enjoying the view. But then her gaze travelled to the steep rocky path that lay ahead. Tristan had mentioned this part earlier, but she’d thought they were avoiding it. The rock was smooth slate-grey, and formed a series of long, flat steps that ate into the side of the mountain like the teeth of a zip. Although each section was flat, and the height of each step didn’t seem too much, it was the sheer length of the climb that worried her. The summit was high, and the climb was going to be a tough one. They’d never make it up there in fifteen minutes. She hoped Tristan knew what he was doing, letting them take this route. They only had about one and a half hours before sunset, and they were struggling enough without having to descend in darkness.

This was not part of the plan.

She took it easy on the first couple of steps, but even so, she could feel her heart rate start to increase. Another wave of nausea hit her, and she stopped for a moment to pull a bottle of water from the side pocket of her rucksack. She gulped down a quick drink, then shoved the bottle back into her bag. When she looked up again, the men were more than halfway towards the top. Ginny was a couple of steps ahead. The men appeared to be deep in conversation, not thinking about the two of them trailing behind. ‘Ginny, wait up.’ Her heart was thumping now, despite the rest and the water, and she felt sicker than before. Was it something she’d eaten at breakfast? But hadn’t the others had the same? She took her rucksack off and opened the other side pocket. She pulled out the small strip of pills that Ginny had given her at breakfast. It was time she took one herself.

She wasn’t usually one to take medication unless she really needed it, but she was starting to get worried about her racing heart. She’d been so calm, planning all this for so long. But planning was one thing – the reality something very different. She popped a pill out of the packet and swallowed it dry.

When she looked up again, Ginny was standing a few feet away, hands on her hips. ‘What is it?’ She huffed out a breath. ‘I made it nearly halfway in these stupid trainers, with half the skin of my heels being rubbed off, and here you are, in all the gear, puffing like an old woman. What the hell is wrong with you?’

Cat stumbled, grabbing her stomach as she dry-heaved. Swallowing that tablet like that had been a bad idea. Then another wave of nausea hit her, and this time it wasn’t stopping in her gullet. She pitched forward and vomited on to the thin strip of parched grass at the edge of the stone path.

‘Ew, gross.’ Ginny took a step back. ‘Are you ill? Oh god, have you got that norovirus or something? I really don’t want to catch that, it sounds absolutely awful.’

Cat stood up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I notice you haven’t actually asked me if I’m feeling OK? You just want to make sure you don’t get it. That’s typical of you . . .’ Her sentence trailed off as she felt another lurch in her stomach and doubled over to puke again. ‘Urgh. I actually don’t know what’s wrong with me. I keep getting these little waves of dizziness then this urge to be sick, and it had mostly gone away until now, when I stupidly swallowed that tablet dry.’