Page 58 of Runner 13

Adrienne

‘You’re not making any sense,’ I say. I can’t believe that of him. Not Rupert. Not ultrarunning’s golden boy.

‘It was at Long I’d just had enough. I wanted to shake him off. Then the wind hit and … bam. He was gone. Off the side, just like that.’

‘Rupert, that doesn’t sound like it was your fault. It was the wind. You didn’t push him. You didn’t kill him.’

‘I could have tried to grab him, catch him, do something . But it all happened so fast. I thought – I don’t even know what I thought.

I thought I had hallucinated it. Maybe he hadn’t been there at all.

Maybe he was taking a rest. I convinced myself he was fine and I carried on running and I fucking won.

I got all this kudos and sponsorship and all these opportunities.

But they never even found Steve’s body.’

‘Oh, Rupert, it’s OK.’ I keep repeating his name, hoping he’ll come back to himself, but he’s lost in his story.

‘I didn’t know that Boones had hidden cameras everywhere along the course.

He’s got a recording of what happened. It shows me rounding on Steve, raising my hand, then he falls.

It shows me recoiling , not reaching out to help him.

It shows me continuing as if nothing had happened.

If he releases it, that’s the end of my career. I’ll be – well, I’ll be you.’

I swallow. ‘But the man with the gun?’

‘That’s the thing,’ says Rupert. ‘It’s Steve.’

For a moment I’m flooded with relief. Rupert is hallucinating. He’s so riddled with guilt, he’s conjured a ghost – just like how I saw Yasmin running next to me. I can see how much it haunts him.

He’s still talking. ‘ He is what makes this Boones’s ultimate race. Not the promises. But this – sending Steve after us. Finding out how far we’ll go with someone chasing us.’

A shiver runs down my spine. It sounds exactly like something Boones would do. But Steve is dead. Isn’t he?

I hear metal scraping against rock. A few taps, slow and deliberate. Then a voice is carried on the wind. ‘Ruuu-pert,’ it says, dragging out each syllable.

A chill spreads through my body. That voice. There’s so much venom in that tone. So much determination.

Rupert hadn’t imagined it. There is someone out there.

There’s the sound of water spilling, then a crunch of plastic. A bottle flies off the side of the mountain. I watch it arc in the air. Hit the sand.

He’s close. So close. He’s going to be on me and Rupert at any moment.

I lean back against the boulder, trying to make myself as small as possible.

Then, without warning, Rupert makes a run for it. He darts along the ridge, trying to get away. Steve is quick too. He chases after him.

It’s the first time I get a look at who it is – the bald head, the beard that runs along the edge of his chin to give himself a jawline. He’s wearing a Hot he’s angry. He launches after me.

But this is my terrain. I’m fast. Even with the miles I’ve already run these past few days weighing them down, my legs carry me. I don’t have time to marvel at what my body is capable of. All I can do is pray that it lasts a little longer.

I don’t know if I can risk a glance back, but I need to. There’s a tall rock to navigate on the trail, so when my arms are wrapped round it, I look.

I wish I hadn’t. He’s fast too. But he’s not moving now. He’s stopped. That means it’s coming.

I dart round the rock and launch myself forward. But I feel a change in the air before I hear any sound. A loud bang, then the boulder behind me explodes into shards. Another bang and then comes pain, a cloudburst of it so intense it’s like I’ve been hit by lightning.

All of a sudden, I am flying.