Chapter 78 Elin

78

Elin

Parque Nacional, Portugal, October 2021

Keeping well back, Elin and Isaac trail behind them, following until the cobbled street peters out to a rough track and the outer edges of the forest behind.

Maggie and Ned walk parallel to the woodland for a couple of minutes before coming to a stop at a trail marker at the edge of the tree line.

Elin hesitates, trying to get her bearings. ‘That track's leading right. That wouldn't lead you back to camp, would it?'

‘Not unless you wanted to take a detour.' Isaac squints upwards. ‘Hard to see because of the trees, but looks like the trail goes up, and then right. Might switchback on itself.'

They follow as Maggie and Ned turn onto the trail, keeping a good distance behind.

The path is well-trodden for the first few hundred metres, trail markers placed at regular intervals. After a kilometre or so, it takes a sharp right, but Maggie and Ned turn left, plunging into what looks like dense forest .

Trampling through the underbrush behind them, Elin and Isaac force their way through the thick foliage, feet scattering piles of dead leaves and branches.

‘Sure you want to keep following?' Isaac winces as a branch scrapes his cheek. ‘We're making a racket getting through this.'

‘If we keep back, we'll be fine. They'll only be making the same noises as us,' she replies, picking up the pace. She feels invigorated suddenly, her earlier exhaustion now replaced by pure adrenalin.

After about five minutes walking, the forest thins a little. This part of the track has clearly been used before – shrubbery beaten back just enough to be manageable, scuffs and marks in the ground cover.

Elin wonders how many times they've done this. At the rate they're moving, it looks like the route is familiar to them.

Another half a kilometre on, Maggie and Ned come to a stop in a sudden break in the trees, where some felled oaks have created a narrow clearing.

She puts a finger to her lips. ‘Get down,' she says quickly, crouching.

They watch as Maggie walks forwards a few feet, pushing an armful of the tree canopy to one side. The action reveals a sudden flicker of colour: a shiny, artificial white among the muddy greens and browns of the forest. Barely visible, due to the trees, but acutely out of place among the sprawling underbrush.

Easing past her, Ned comes to help, forcing enough of the branches away for the flash of white to fully reveal itself.

The dull glint of light on paintwork.

Elin pulls in her breath.

A van.

Even from this distance, it's clear that it's been there a while, a thin skin of green speckling the surface along with a scattering of leaves and forest debris.

Her stomach drops. ‘That's not Kier's?'

‘Don't think so. Different colour, isn't it? Kier' s is blue.'

Maggie fiddles with the lock on the door before disappearing inside. For a moment, it looks like Ned's going to follow, but he settles himself in the doorway, leaning back against the frame. Lighting a cigarette, he takes a long drag and then slowly exhales. Despite the relaxed stance, there's a tension etched into the lines of his face as his eyes shift among the trees.

‘Looks like he's playing guard,' Isaac murmurs.

If so, it's not clear why. Only glimpses through the door of Maggie moving around. Small thudding sounds cutting through the silence.

A few minutes later, she emerges clutching a small bag. Closing the door behind her, the sunlight spilling across her face reveals the silvery markings of the scar on her cheek. She pushes the bag from the van into her own satchel and steps in their direction.

‘Let's move,' Elin says quickly, but her fears are unfounded: Maggie abruptly turns, leading Ned around the side of the van.

‘Must be a way out at the back,' Isaac whispers.

They let a few minutes pass and then pick their way towards the van.

Up close, Elin instinctively recoils, an uneasy feeling creeping up her neck. The van is dirtier than it looked from a distance – ivy chasing up the rear wheel, ghostly remnants of long dead leaves imprinted on the windscreen.

She tries the handle. ‘Locked,' she says, moving to the front. ‘And no plates, back or front.' Crouching, she examines the tyres. ‘Tyres pretty much flat, but doesn't look like there's much damage.'

Isaac runs a hand across the side door. ‘Paintwork's in okay condition. Bit of rust, some chips. Definitely been here a while, but we're not talking decades.'

Elin nods, peering through the windows, but the curtains, a pale-blue gingham, have been tightly drawn.

‘Bloody odd,' Isaac mutters. ‘Reckon it's one of theirs?'

‘Almost certainly.' Elin's still trying to look inside. ‘Maggie seemed to know her way around it. Closer to camp and I'd say it might be used for storage of some kind, but not this far out.' Giving up, she turns away. ‘I'm going to take a look around the other side.'

Forcing her way between the pushed-back branches, she rounds the rear of the van. The clearing extended to a bigger section in this direction, the denser forest not starting for another hundred metres or so.

As her eyes adjust to the landscape, she notices a rough track snaking between the trees.

‘That's the way they went out, then.' Isaac comes up behind her. ‘Guessing there's a road not too far off.' He's already walking down the track, eyes scouring the foliage around him. ‘Can't be far. The van had to have got here somehow.'

Elin keeps looking around, growing more uneasy, not just about the van itself, but its position.

Why so far from camp?

‘Found the road,' Isaac calls, walking back. ‘About a quarter of a mile up there. Ground looks patchy leading this way. Probably been disturbed by the van whenever it made its way in.' As he reaches her, he bends to examine the bonnet again. Cupping a hand, he scoops away some of the leaves and branches. ‘Scratches, some damage to the front, but you'd expect more if it had come off the road at enough speed to push it in this far.' He squints, looking behind him. ‘Bit of a slope, but not enough to propel it in this deep without it getting stuck on something on the way in. My guess is it's been driven in, pushed beneath the tree.'

‘Perfect cover if you're trying to hide it. Start of the track from town is pretty dodgy, people wouldn't be stumbling on it by chance.' She glances up at the window again, and this time, she notices something: a small gap between the fabric of the curtains, the only set, as far as she can see, that haven't been so tightly drawn.

Leaning in, she can see glimpses of the interior. ‘Here,' she gestures. ‘Got a view inside.' Shuffling closer, Elin moves forwards until her nose is almost against the glass. With the other curtains closed, the interior is gloomy, but it's obvious that the space is more or less empty. ‘Can't see much apart from the main bits of furniture. No personal items. '

‘All been cleared out?' Isaac peers over her shoulder.

‘Yeah.' Elin's about to step away when her gaze is pulled higher, to something daubed on the wall above the bench.

Her breath catches in her throat.

‘You won't believe this.' Her voice wobbles. ‘There's something painted on the wall.'