Fantom chapter 3, part 5.

  Tom and Adam emerged panting from the shaft into the folly.  Agnes was not far behind them, and they could see the guards, with their guns, only a step or two behind them.
  “Run!” Tom said.  They ran out of the folly and, to the surprise of a few tourists who were wandering around the hilltop, dived down into one of the grass-grown hollows that pitted the ground.  There they tried to recover their breath.
   “They can’t do anything to us out here, can they?  There are other people around,” Agnes said.
   “I wouldn’t bet on it,” Tom said.  
   Adam was peeping out between the rocks at the lip of the hollow.  “They’re heading the other way,” he said.  “Can we get down the hill this side?”
   Tom peered over the opposite edge.  “I think so.  We’d better try, anyway.  If we stay here they’ll find us eventually.”
   “And we need to get help for Ruth,” Agnes added.
   It was only later that they realised that the sensible thing to do would have been to phone for help.  But when you’re being chased by someone with a gun you don’t always think of what would be sensible.  
   They began to make their way down the hill, as unobtrusively as possible.  At the bottom of the hill they avoided the car park by the cavern entrance and struck out across a playing field towards the campsite.  They had almost reached their tents and were beginning to think they had escaped when behind them they heard shouts and the roar of a van.  
   “Here!” Tom shouted.  His car was parked next to the tent.  He fumbled in his pockets for the keys, and then dropped them into the grass.  Eventually he got it unlocked and they got in just as the guards arrived.  Swerving round them, Tom drove off the campsite, just as a bullet glanced the back of the car.  
   “Where are we going?” Adam asked.  She and Adam were hunched down in their seats, afraid of further bullets.  
   “Anywhere they’re not,” Tom said grimly.
   “There’s a car following us,” Agnes said.  “And a van behind that.”  
   There were no further shots, but the car and van followed everywhere they went.  They drove around for hours, afraid to stop, afraid to go back to the camp site.  It was starting to get dark and they had been tired and silent for some time.  They were driving up a steep narrow road when suddenly Tom spoke.
   “Oh good grief,” he said.
   “What?” Agnes asked.
   “I’ve just realised where we are, or rather where we’re going,” he said.  “It’s the old A625.  It doesn’t go anywhere any more, it’s closed.  There were landslides and the road- just ends- it can’t be far ahead.
   “We can’t get through?”  Agnes asked.  Tom shook his head.
   “We can’t turn back,” Adam said.  Behind them, headlights showed their pursuers were still hard on their heels.
   “We’ll have to run for it,” Tom said.  “Maybe we can loose them in the dark.”
   “It’s getting misty too,” Agnes said.  “What’s that ahead?”
   “A fence,” Tom said.  “It must be the end of the road.”
   It was.  Tom swerved into the lay-by just before the fence, and they jumped out and disappeared into the dark.  On the other side of the fence the road seemed to continue as normal for a few metres, then they heard the noise of slipping stones and Adam said, “Ow!”  
   “What is it?” Agnes whispered.  Behind them they could hear shouts of wrath and the slams of car doors as their pursuers argued about what to do.  Headlights were visible through the mist.
   “There’s a drop- the road’s subsided,” Adam said.  “About half a metre.  Watch out, let me help you down.”
   “There’s several places it does that,” Tom whispered.  “I’ve been here before.  “I’ve got a torch but if we use it they’ll see us.  We’ll have to feel our way along, and stay together.”
   Shreds of fog drifted past them as they made their cautious way over the uneven surface of the broken road.  It was not long before they were disorientated and had lost track of both the road and their direction.  Behind them they could still hear occasionally the sounds of pursuit.  Occasionally a torch beam would pierce the mist and they would duck down behind a dry stone wall, but each time the mist closed in again and the light and sound disappeared.
   In the darkness they made their way over boggy ground and through fields.  They clambered down a steep rocky path which, on reaching the bottom, they realised was actually a mostly dried up stream bed.  
   Eventually, as the sky began to lighten they climbed wearily up a hill, hoping to be able to see where they were.  There seemed to be some sort of building at the top of the hill, although they could not see more than a rough outline.  They had heard nothing of the pursuit for some time, and were so tired by now that they did not realise until too late, that they were not the only ones there.

The story continues...