Kelly jumped down quickly, and uneasily scanned the shadows around her. Nothing moved.
The damp swirling mist was much denser down by the warehouse then it was up here. She half expected the Ripper to burst out of it and run towards her, like something you’d see in a horror flick. The lower floors of the old building were totally obscured by an opaque wall of mist, although the uneven outline of its roof still dominated the horizon like a gothic castle.
The fresh air was starting to clear her head, but the cloying chemical smell of the van lingered on her skin and clothes as unpleasantly as the smoke that always used to cling to her after a long night in the pub.
Kelly quickly opened the other door, cringing at the horrible squeaking its hinges made. She leaned in and helped Sarah up into a sitting position.
“Come on, love, we’ve got to get you away from here,” Kelly whispered. She gently pulled Sarah’s Pritchard’s legs around until they dangled over the edge of the van, resting her feet on the small back step. Sarah winced and cried with every movement, but she didn’t resist.
“My car is at the end of this road. I’ll support you all the way, but we’ve got to go now,” Kelly told her urgently. Sarah nodded obediently. Kelly put her arm around the woman’s waist and began to pull her out.
Suddenly, Sarah stiffened. Screaming hysterically, she tried to drag herself back into the van, violently shrugging Kelly’s arm off.
What the…?
“Look, I know it hurts but –” One look at the woman’s face was enough to make her realise that Sarah wasn’t screaming because of anything she had done. Kelly went rigid with fear. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and, suddenly, the presence of death became a tangible thing. It was him – the Ripper.
He’d come back.
◆◆◆
Tyler’s anxiety was making him feel very agitated. He had already driven the length of Wapping High Street without seeing any sign of Kelly, and they were now doing a reciprocal route. “Try her number again, Dill,” he ordered impatiently.
“I can’t, Jack. There’s no signal,” the big man replied.
“Damn it. Come on Kelly. Where the hell are you?” Tyler’s eyes darted left and right, scanning the streets for her. There was no sign of life anywhere. The place was like a ghost town. All that was missing was the tumbleweed.
“What car did she book out, Dill?” Tyler asked.
“I don’t know, Jack,” Dillon said. No one in the office ever booked the cars out properly – himself included – so he hadn’t bothered to check the register.
“She was listening to the chase on the Main-Set,” Jack said. “Apart from the Omega, how many of our cars have one?”
“Bloody hell, you’re right, Jack,” Dillon said wondering why he hadn’t he thought of that. “The only other car with a Main-Set in it is the blue Escort – it’s an R registration, I think.”
◆◆◆
Kelly stood up quickly, every muscle in her body tensed for action. The ASP was tucked into her waistband, still fully extended. Quick as a flash, Kelly pulled it out and spun around, raising it in preparation for a strike.
As fast as she was, the killer was even faster. His fist lashed out, catching her on the side of her chin. His whole weight was behind the blow, and Kelly fell back, banging her head against the van door. The ASP flew from her hand, landing with a metallic clang on the floor nearby.
Everything began to spin as Kelly slumped to the ground. Through tunnelled vision, she watched helplessly as the blurred shape of a man bent over her. She was powerless to resist as he reached down and took her chin in his hand, roughly twisting her head from side to side, as if examining a piece of meat.
“Hello,” he said, pleasantly. “And who might you be?” His voice seemed to echo inside her head like a grotesque sound effect. He let go of her head and it sagged forward onto her chest.
The last thing she saw before passing out was the giant thirteen-inch Bowie knife in his left hand. The last thing she heard was Sarah Pritchard’s spine-chilling scream.
◆◆◆
Jack spun the car around when they reached St. Katherine’s Way and began their third trip along the now familiar stretch of road. A cat ran across the road in front of them. It was the first living creature they’d seen in ages. He slowed down on the approach to each side street he came to, in case she was waiting for them off the main road, but there was no sign of her or anyone else in this godforsaken place.
Tyler began to consider the possibility that the van had moved off again. If it had, she would have gone with it. And if that were the case, she could be miles away, unable to update them with her new location because of the poor signal on her cell phone. He was about to suggest this to Dillon when he spotted a dark coloured Escort parked up ahead on the right.
Dillon saw it too and pointed. “Hang on, Jack. I think that’s it.”
Tyler drew level and Dillon jumped out to check. Cupping his hands against the window, he peered inside. “This is the one, Main-Set and all. She must be around here somewhere,” he said, looking up and down the road.
Tyler pulled in behind it. Seconds later, he joined Dillon on the pavement. “I suggest we split up. You go right and I’ll go left. We’ll cover more ground that way,” Tyler said.
“Good idea. But we’d better not stray too far from here. If one of us shouts for help, I want the other one to hear it,” Dillon said, wishing they had radios.
“Agreed. I’ll check this turning,” Tyler indicated
