blank range, exploded into the ground beneath as Saskia slammed him aside using Gwen as a bludgeon. The two of them sprawled across the concrete, then Saskia leapt to her feet, still holding on to Gwen. Jack turned onto his back, bringing the pistol up, but suddenly the water hag held the high ground.
‘Not good enough,’ Saskia hissed, throwing Gwen down on top of him.
Gwen gasped, choking and retching as she tried to draw breath, aware of the searing pain in her left hand more than anything else. Jack rolled, trying to free himself, but the advantage was lost. The other water hags, at a signal from their leader, were closing in, claws and teeth bared. Jack couldn’t shoot them all, no matter how good a shot he was.
There was a moment of stalemate: Gwen on all fours, barely able to breathe; Jack on one knee beside her, hand on her shoulder, his gun raised, sweeping it back and forth across the approaching aliens.
‘Who’s gonna be first to die?’ he asked savagely.
‘Does it matter?’ Saskia responded. ‘You have four bullets left. There’s eight of us here — and how many more are due to arrive in the next day or so? A hundred? A thousand?’
‘They’ll never make it,’ Jack told her. ‘We’ve got the antidote. There’s a serum which will kill the homunculi in situ. I’ve got my people working on it now, transmitting the formula to the authorities. By morning, they’ll be rolling it out right across the country. Kills ’em dead.’
Saskia bared her black fangs. ‘Is that what you did to yours?’
‘Coughed it right up on the floor and then squashed it under my boot,’ Jack growled.
‘No mercy?’
‘Not when the planet’s at stake. This is Torchwood. We don’t do political correctness.’
‘Then you’ll understand that I can’t show you any mercy in return,’ Saskia smiled. ‘As you say, not when the planet’s at stake. You die and the Earth is ours.’
‘And that’s where we come in,’ said Owen Harper.
He was standing away to one side, with Ianto right beside him. Even in the moonlight, Gwen could see that neither of them looked well — white-faced, haggard, almost at the point of collapse. They were armed with sub- machine guns but, even so, as a rescue attempt she had to admit it didn’t look promising. Owen was leaning against the wall in order to remain upright, lips pressed into a thin line, the Heckler amp; Koch MP5 tucked in against his waist as if it was too heavy to hold properly. Ianto, unbelievably, was in shirtsleeves — bloodstained and open-necked, and, clutching the gun, looking more like an extra from a
‘I think the saying is, “Put your hands up”,’ said Ianto.
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Owen cut in. ‘Believe me, I want to shoot.’
Moving as one, the water hags screamed and flew into action. Several dived towards Owen and Ianto, claws slashing, but the response was never in doubt: the MP5s roared and the hags were cut down in mid air, spraying dark blood into the night.
Next, confusion: Gwen crawling out of the way, dimly aware that Jack was moving in the opposite direction. More water hags yelling and hissing, and frequent, controlled bursts of gunfire from the SMGs. Gwen looked back at one point and saw Owen standing over a fallen water hag, MP5 directed at its head, execution-style. One point- blank burst shattered the head like a dropped melon and he moved on, face grim.
Ianto was down on one knee, his own weapon raised to his shoulder so that he could aim more carefully. He, too, was squeezing off short, shattering rounds, picking off the water hags where they stood. The one nearest to Gwen was flung back in a hail of gunfire. Weed and moss slopped onto the pavement as the creature staggered back and fell. It crawled along the pavement trailing weeds and green slime, whining to itself, but still very much alive.
Toshiko’s voice flooded into Gwen’s head: ‘Gwen, can you read me?’
‘Yeah, I’m here.’
‘Thank goodness you’re all right. I’m checking the CCTV — Saskia’s heading for the quay.’
Gwen twisted around, peering past the wounded hag lying on the ground nearby, through the gun smoke drifting across Roald Dahl Plass, and saw Saskia disappearing into the darkness towards the bay — closely followed by a tall, running figure in a greatcoat.
‘Jack’s after her,’ said Gwen.
‘I think she’s heading for the water,’ Toshiko said. ‘Safety, as far as she’s concerned … Cardiff Bay is fresh water, not sea water. Gwen, she mustn’t get there.’
‘I’m on it.’ Gwen heaved herself upright, holding her injured hand under the opposite arm, trying to ignore the sharp waves of pain bursting through the lacerated flesh. She tried to keep low, running in a crouch in the hope of avoiding any stray bullets.
Ianto had taken cover behind a bench, firing at the remaining water hags, trying to hold them off. No matter how many carefully aimed shots he used, they refused to die. ‘Alien anatomy,’ Ianto muttered in disgust as he hurriedly snapped a fresh magazine into the H amp;K. ‘You can never be sure which bit to shoot at, can you?’
Gwen stepped over the bench and dropped down beside him. ‘Jack’s gone after Saskia,’ she said. ‘Can you hold them here?’
Ianto nodded. ‘I can try. No promises, mind.’
Gwen nodded, got up and ran down towards the sea front.
‘Which way did they go?’ she asked Toshiko.
‘Down towards Mermaid Quay, I think. They’re in a CCTV black spot. I’ve lost them both.’
Gwen swore and hurried on. The pain in her hand was terrible now, a momentous throb of agony that kept distracting her. She stopped, hunched over, fighting back the urge to sob and wail, knowing she had to concentrate and do the job. But she could hardly move for the pain; she could hardly think.
She stumbled on a few paces. ‘Jack? Jack, are you here?’
There was no reply except for the sound of the water washing against the quayside. She slumped down against the side of the building, feeling cold and utterly alone. Her hand was burning, but she was starting to shiver as the cold wind came in off the bay and cut right through her denim jacket.
‘Jack?’ she called out again, but her voice sounded very small and the word was carried away into the night by the wind.
Slowly she lifted a hand to her ear. ‘Tosh? Toshiko? Are you there?’
Silence.
TWENTY-SEVEN
She heard footsteps pounding along the boardwalk and opened her eyes to see Owen arrive, breathing hard. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Jack’s after Saskia,’ Gwen told him faintly. ‘Tosh saw them heading for the waterfront. I can’t find them, and now I can’t get a reply from Tosh either. What’s happening?’
Owen collapsed next to her against the Tourist Information kiosk, his breath coming in harsh, ugly gasps. ‘Dunno. The water hags won’t stay down when we shoot ’em. How unfair is that? Ianto’s trying to pin them back, but he won’t be able to keep it going for ever.’
‘We’re stuffed, aren’t we?’
He rested his head against the wood and closed his eyes. ‘Give me a second and then I’ll try to find Jack. He might know what to do.’
‘Stay here, you’re done in,’ advised Gwen.
‘What about you?’ he panted, nodding at her hand. ‘You’re injured.’
‘It’s nothing, I’ll live.’
Owen shook his head. There was too much blood. When Gwen glanced down she saw that her T-shirt was soaked in it and the sight almost made her faint.
‘Let me see it,’ Owen said, dropping his MP5 on the ground.
Carefully, Gwen pulled her hand out from under her arm. The blood had started to congeal and her T-shirt stuck momentarily to the flesh, making her gasp as it came free.
