Free No Going Back by Lyndon Stacey Page A

sideways, rolling and bouncing through a kaleidoscope of tree trunks, brambles and leaf mould towards the stream, where it wound through the trees, some 40 feet below.
    The track came as something of a surprise. Hidden from above by an overhang, Daniel didn’t actually see it until he hit the gravel with his shoulder, rolled and landed on his back.
    His timing couldn’t have been better.
    Katya was less than 20 feet away and Daniel’s abrupt and unheralded arrival startled her pony into swerving violently. Competent rider though she might have been, Katya was thrown completely off-balance and ended up hanging precariously over one side of the animal’s neck.
    Within moments Daniel was on his feet and at the pony’s head. He dragged the girl off it, clamping an arm round her waist to keep her close, and thoroughly alarmed, the pony backed away, head held high.
    Katya fought like a wildcat and was tremendously strong. It was as much as Daniel could do to hang on to her, winded as he was. One small booted foot scraped painfully down his shin and stamped on his instep; her arms flailed – elbows trying to land blows to his ribs; and she even tried head-butting him, but he’d had too much experience to be caught that way.
    â€˜Katy! Katya! Stop it. I want to help you,’ he gasped.
    â€˜No, no! Let me go! Let me go!’ she yelled, kicking him again.
    â€˜For God’s sake, listen! I know about Elena.’
    â€˜No! No! No! Please let me go! Please.’ Suddenly Katya stopped struggling and began to sob.
    Relieved but not wholly trusting the swift change, Daniel maintained his grip on her and was surprised by the appearance of a black and white collie, which jumped up, putting its front paws on his leg and barking.
    The next moment something hit Daniel hard across the shoulders and a male voice thundered, ‘Leave that girl alone! D’you hear me? Leave her alone, you pervert!’
    The man punctuated each phrase with another blow, one of which caught Daniel across the side of the head, making his ears ring.
    â€˜For Christ’s sake, man! Get off me!’ Daniel exclaimed. ‘It’s not what you think . . .’
    But at the prospect of help, Katya cried out again and the man with the stick stepped up his attack. When one of his blows caught Daniel on the elbow, the shock loosened his hold for a moment, sending paralysing pins and needles shooting along his forearm. A moment was all the girl needed. With a supreme effort she wrenched herself free and, without waiting to thank her saviour, ran off down the track.
    Free, in turn, to defend himself, Daniel lost no time in twisting the knot-headed walking stick from the grasp of the military-looking gentleman who’d wielded it with such enthusiasm and throwing it as hard as he could up the track.
    â€˜You bloody interfering idiot!’ he snarled through his teeth, before setting off in pursuit of the girl, who, seeing more walkers ahead, turned off the path, down towards the stream in the bottom of the valley.
    Ignoring the blustering expostulations of the military man, Daniel followed.
    The slope below the track was if anything even steeper than above, littered with fallen timber and slippery with moss. Forced to slow up, Daniel lost his footing again and again, whereas the girl seemed as sure-footed as a mountain goat.
    Within moments she was at the overhanging edge of the deep rocky gully through which the stream flowed, some 20 feet below. She followed the bank until she arrived at a place where the gully was bridged by a fallen silver birch and then, glancing back at Daniel struggling in her wake, stepped on to the tree, paused to test its stability and ran lightly across.
    Arriving at the same point, some moments later, Daniel knew the chase was over. The trunk of the birch was barely 6 inches in diameter, crooked and mossy in places, and spanned a good 15 feet with no handholds. Just looking at the