Smokeheads by Doug Johnstone Page A

and pressed 999. No bars on the signal, but worth trying. He heard a beep and looked at the screen – ‘No network coverage’.
    He checked the back of his head again. No new blood. He carefully edged his way down the slope towards the car. It was easier going than it looked from above, plenty of footholds and grips on the slanting rock face.
    ‘Molly? Guys?’
    He waited, listening. No reply, just the wash of the sea, his own heavy breathing and the thud of his heart in his ears. He bustled down the slope, breaking into a jog as the gradient eased off, a shuddering pain through his body with every step.
    The car sat on a tiny rocky beach. He reached the passenger side first but there was no one there. He leant in and saw Molly and Roddy across the other side, hanging upside down in their seat belts.
    ‘Molly, Roddy!’ he shouted. No answer. ‘Shit.’
    He ran round to their side of the car and pulled on Molly’s door, but it was buckled in the frame and wouldn’t budge. He was standing in a rocky puddle of seawater, rainbowed with leaked petrol. He tried Roddy’s door but it was the same. He shouted again, no answer.
    He ran back round the car, looking for Ethan or Luke on the way. No sign. He climbed in the passenger side at the back and slid over to Molly. Her hair was tangled over her face. He reached out, swept it back and stroked her cheek.
    ‘Molly? You OK? Please be OK.’
    She blinked and moaned. ‘Shit.’
    ‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘Just hang on.’
    She opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘What …’
    ‘Shhh, don’t worry about it. We had a crash. I’m going to get you out. Can you move your arms?’
    She tentatively stretched them out in front of her. It was weird seeing her movements upside down.
    ‘OK, you’ll need to brace yourself against the roof of the car. You’re upside down. I’m going to release your seatbelt, so be ready. I’ll try to hold on to you. OK?’
    Molly nodded. He put an arm around her waist and reached for the red button of the seatbelt release. He pushed it and the buckle whizzed out of his hand, snapping downwards. He felt the sudden weight of her in his arms as she tumbled into him, knocking him onto the ceiling of the car and landing on him in a heap. Together they struggled out the other side of the car, scrambling onto the slick pebbles and breathing heavily.
    ‘Thanks,’ said Molly.
    ‘You OK?’
    She nodded. ‘I think so.’
    ‘Just wait here.’
    He looked around for Luke or Ethan again. Nothing. He ducked into the car.
    ‘Roddy?’
    No answer. He turned Roddy’s head towards him. Out cold. He touched his neck for a pulse, felt throbbing under his fingertips. He braced himself, wrapped an arm round Roddy’s body and popped the seatbelt. He was pushed down by the weight, pain jabbing through his legs as he fell and Roddy’s body pinned him to the ceiling. After a moment he felt Roddy shifting and saw Molly pulling at his arm. He pushed from the waist and slowly the body shifted off him and out the car. On the way past he felt something slick against his head. When Roddy’s legs were clear he touched his face. Blood. He scooted clumsily out of the car.
    Molly stood over Roddy, his face pale and his right shoulder a mess of blood. Adam went closer and saw a three-inch strip of jagged metal poking out from the fleshy part above his armpit.
    ‘Jesus.’
    ‘I know,’ said Molly.
    ‘What do we do?’
    ‘Pull it out?’
    ‘You think?’
    ‘I have no idea.’
    Adam knelt down and examined it. He tried to lift Roddy’s jacket to see underneath but the spike pinned his clothes to his shoulder. He held the rod and gave it a gentle pull, but it was stuck firm. He tried again and blood oozed around the wound but the thing didn’t budge. He gave another pull.
    ‘What the fuck,’ said Roddy, flinching and opening his eyes. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, what’re you doing to me?’
    ‘Sorry, I was …’
    Roddy let out a yell. ‘Shit, that hurts.’ He