The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(2)
‘Jack? Oh no!’ Tom looked at his friend and crossed himself.
‘The door!’ breathed Carter. ‘Concentrate on the door! We have to get them out of here!’
Tom drew in a noisy breath and knelt beside him. ‘Okay, okay, you’re right. Look, you free the handle and get ready to push. I’ll brace myself and kick forward with both feet. Ready?’ He sat down and put his feet to the door.
Carter nodded, twisted the handle and screamed. The door flew open, catapulting him from the plane, a human projectile.
He hit the sodden ground painfully. The Piper had come to rest at an acute angle. The wing had torn off, and this had lifted the right side of the fuselage high into the air. To his horror, the door, now flapping open, was some ten feet above him. He shrieked into the wind. ‘Tom! I can’t get back in! Just push them out and I’ll try to drag them to safety!’
Tom’s face appeared in the doorway. ‘I’ll get Ray and Matt first. Maybe they have a chance.’
The face disappeared. Then Tom was back at the door, ‘I’ve got Ray,’ he gasped. ‘He’s still unconscious. Are you ready down there?’
‘Just get him out!’ wheezed Carter, and stared up at the dark hole above him.
Tom moved back into the plane and began to drag Ray forward.
A sudden squall of rain and wind blasted against the wreckage, and slammed the door closed. Carter froze.
‘Tom?’
Carter could see the dark shape of his friend desperately throwing himself against the jammed door. He staggered to his feet and stared up, aghast. Carter could see Tom clearly, silhouetted against the bright light coming from the interior of the cabin. He stepped back, his jaw slack and his eyes unblinking. It wasn’t just light, it was flames. Tom’s gentle face was now twisted in anguish.
With a cry, Carter started forward and tried to claw his way back up to the closed door. He forgot his pain in his struggle to get back to his friends.
The blast denied him even that.
*
At dawn the next morning, Carter McLean awoke and tried to ease himself up in the uncomfortable hospital bed. With each movement, the pain in his ribs tore the breath from his lungs and left him gasping. When at last the pain subsided, Carter saw Tom sitting at the bottom of the bed, staring in silence at his burnt and blistered hands.
It wasn’t just Tom. On the other side of the room Matt, Ray and Jack leaned against the wall and argued noisily about whether Man U could win the Europa League or finish in the top four.
Carter tried not to look at them. Something was terribly wrong. Why had he received immediate treatment while his friends were left untended? He looked closer. They hadn’t even cleaned up Jack’s neck. His head wobbled unnaturally each time he spoke. If the doctors don’t do something soon, thought Carter, it will fall off.
And poor Matt! His legs looked like raw meat. Worried about infection, Carter rang the bell for the nurse.
‘No point, mate,’ said Tom quietly. ‘Why don’t you just try to get some rest and forget about us for a while?’
‘But I don’t understand,’ whispered Carter.
‘No, I know, I know. But just try to sleep, yeah?’
Carter stared at his best friend, and tears coursed down his face. He only knew it was Tom because of his accent. Half of his face was gone, and most of his flesh. He smelt awful. The acrid stench clung to Carter like a second skin. ‘Why don’t they do something?’ Carter whined. He barely recognised his own voice.
‘Because it’s too late. So you just rest, huh? We’ve got to go now, but we’ll talk later. Try to make things better, alright?’ Tom stood up, beckoned to the others, and they followed him out of the room.
Must be their turn for treatment. He hoped so. He bit his lip. He knew the health service was in a bad way, but their treatment of his friends was appalling. With a sigh, he pushed the button on the morphine pump, slid down under the sheets and waited for oblivion.
CHAPTER ONE
Eighteen Months Later
DI Rowan Jackman handed DS Marie Evans a memo. ‘Have you seen this?’
Marie skimmed through it, and handed it back. ‘Carter McLean? Yes, he’s been returned to full duties as from next week.’
Jackman raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t look exactly delighted.’
Marie shrugged. ‘I’m not sure how I feel, sir.’
‘He’s been riding a desk for almost six months now, and doing a damned good job too. I’m sure he’s ready. I heard that he steamrollered through his medical assessment.’ Jackman smiled at her.
‘Mmm.’
His smiled faded. ‘What’s that supposed to mean, Marie? What’s the problem?’
Marie sank down into a chair and sighed. ‘I’ve been friends with Carter for a very long time, sir, and I’m sorry but I don’t think the force medical officer and those in charge are seeing the whole picture.’ She paused. ‘Well, I think Laura Archer has her reservations, but she’s just one voice against many.’
‘Surely, as the consultant for the psychological assessment, she would have the greatest say?’
Marie nodded. ‘I think she doesn’t want to stand in Carter’s way. If he believes that he is ready, she is prepared to go along with the FMO, at least for a trial period.’