The Noble Path: A relentless standalone thriller from the #1 bestseller by Peter May (learn to read books .TXT) 📕

Changed your blankets when they was wet with you sweating, laying cold cloth on your forehead to stop you burning up, cleaning and changing your dressings. You’d think she really cared for you. Can’t think why.’

‘I dreamed I slept with her.’

‘No dream, pal. When you was shivering your life away, she just stripped off, and wrapped herself up in the blankets with you, to stop you freezing to death. I can’t believe these people. You treat them like shit, and they return it with kindness.’

Elliot was pricked by irritation. ‘I don’t need their kindness!’

‘Why? Afraid you might feel you owe ’em something? ’Cause you do. Your life.’

‘Who needs it?’

‘You, presumably. I mean, you was busy thanking me for it just a minute ago.’

‘I was being polite,’ Elliot said. He felt McCue’s eyes on him without having to turn to see them.

‘How come you never told me Mikey had cancer?’ There was no change of tone, yet the question was laden with accusation.

‘He didn’t want me to. I only found out by chance. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.’

‘I mean after you’d shot him.’ There was an edge there now.

‘There didn’t seem any point. Would it have made a difference?’

‘To me, yes.’

They heard, from the distant bank, the first cawing of tropical birds as the sky lightened.

‘You know, I can’t figure you, Elliot. It’s like you want to be hated.’

‘Maybe I deserve to be.’ He saw that his cigarette had burned down to the filter. ‘Get rid of that for me, would you.’ McCue took it and stubbed it out in the bottom of the sampan.

‘What are you talking about?’

Elliot turned his head and their eyes made contact. ‘You know what I’m talking about, Billy. People like you and me, we do what we do because we know something about ourselves that most people never do.’ McCue’s eyes flickered away in discomfort. ‘We’ve all been face to face with the other side, the dark side. Of ourselves. You know it, don’t you? The place you keep all the nasty things you’ve done or thought, that little seed of evil that’s in us all. Only we let it grow, didn’t we? Till it choked all the good in us, all the love. I mean, all that shit about duty and honour. You stop believing in that pretty quick when it’s kill or be killed. They know that, the ones who send you out there. They know that war is fuelled by evil, and they reward it with medals and citations. Christ, I mean how else are they going to persuade kids to go on killing each other day after day? And when the dark side takes over, how else are any of us going to excuse it?’

The brief burst of passion in him was snuffed out by fatigue. He lay gasping for breath.

McCue was staring down at his hands. He was silent for a long time. When he spoke it was in a monotone. ‘I had a puppy once. In Nam. Inherited it from this kid that got blown away by a frag grenade. I only had the mutt a few days. But I was pretty sore inside. Hurting. Angry. He’d been my buddy, that kid. I never made the same mistake again. That’s why I volunteered for the Rats. Make no friends, lose no friends.

‘So, anyway, they gave me his puppy. And I would take it and just sort of squeeze it till it yelped, or twist its paw till it would try to bite me. Shit, somebody or something had to suffer for all that pain, and it was going to be that fucking puppy.’ He shook his head. ‘I grew up on a farm, Elliot. Never hurt an animal in my life. But I was hurting that dog, and suddenly I knew it was in me. I got scared and gave it away, ’cause I knew I was gonna kill it.’ He paused to light another cigarette. ‘Maybe I should have. Maybe I wouldn’t have done all the other things I done.’ He glanced self-consciously at Elliot. ‘What did you do that was so bad?’ It was more a defence than a question.

‘Killed a lot of women and children.’

‘All that Aden shit? Everybody knows about that. You didn’t know they was there. You were just some kind of scapegoat, right?’

Elliot shook his head. ‘I knew they were there, alright. They were waving a white flag, as if that somehow wiped the slate clean. I had friends cut to pieces all around me. We were supposed to be protecting these people and they were feeding the enemy every damn move. I was mad. I was so mad I just didn’t care any more. I didn’t fire the first shot. But I still pulled the trigger. I was the officer, I could have stopped it. I was more guilty.’

He reached out for another cigarette. McCue lit one and handed it to him.

‘People used to ask, “What’s it like to kill someone? How many people did you kill?” They never asked what it’s like to see your best friend blown to bits by a mine, how it feels to be covered in his blood and hear him screaming in agony with his guts hanging out.’ The pain in Elliot’s shoulder had begun to throb and he felt dizzy and sick. ‘You know what I’m talking about. You said it yourself, you never let yourself get close to anybody ever again, never owe anybody anything. And the guilt . . .’ he closed his eyes. ‘Well, that’s something you’ve just got to live with. The knowledge inside, of who you really are and what you did. Death’s too easy. Life’s much harder. That’s the real punishment.’

He groaned, a long breath rattling in his throat. McCue leaned over him. ‘What’s wrong?’

He felt sleep, like a mist, slowly rolling over his consciousness. ‘Nothing that dying wouldn’t cure.’

McCue laughed. ‘You ain’t gonna die, Elliot. Like you said, that’d be too damned easy.’

*

It was dark. The mist rose up