Dillon nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Good, let’s do it,” Tyler said, crossing the road hurriedly.
He jogged into the turning opposite Kelly’s car, noting the dead-end sign. After a dozen steps he stopped, struck by how isolated the place was; it was as though, having entered, you were completely cut off from the rest of the world. The bulb in the lone streetlight, which was back at the junction, had long since been vandalised. It flickered at half power, causing his shadow to dance on the floor in front of him.
About fifty yards further in, a bank of fog was slowly drifting towards him. He assumed it was coming up from the river. In the distance, he could see what looked like a series of turrets jutting up into the sky through the fog. They were as uninviting as a Transylvanian castle.
This was a forgotten road, he decided, without character or warmth. There were no houses, no shops and no sign of human occupation, recent or otherwise.
He guessed the cobbled turning was a disused service road leading down to the Thames.
As he stood there, the streetlight flickered a final time and went out.
“That’s just great,” he snarled, throwing his hands up in the air. Needless to say, he hadn’t thought to bring along a torch. Well, there was no point in cursing. He would just have to continue without lighting.
Tyler pressed on, squinting to penetrate the stygian darkness ahead. After a few seconds, he thought he could make out a faint shape in the distance. Could it be the van Kelly had followed?
As he tried to make up his mind, a shadow suddenly detached itself from the rest and glided towards the shape. Either his eyes were playing tricks or someone was prowling around up there. He began to quicken his pace, possessed by a growing sense of urgency.
Before he’d taken half a dozen steps the silence was shattered by an ear-piercing scream.
Jack immediately broke into a fast run. Something was horribly wrong up ahead.
“Kelly!” he shouted at the top of his voice. He strained his ears for a reply, but all he heard was the hollow echo of his footsteps on the cobbled road. The streetlight flickered into life again, illuminating the van and a shadowy figure next to it, albeit weakly.
“You! Stay where you are,” Tyler yelled angrily. “It’s the police.”
He’d covered twenty yards already. The figure – he could tell it was a man now – whipped around to face him, crouching like a savage, predatory animal protecting its prey from a rival.
Even from this distance, Jack could make out the shape of the huge knife in his left hand.
Shit! Tyler wasn’t carrying his ASP either. Had he managed to bring anything he needed with him tonight?
Jack watched as the man took a slow step backwards, edging towards the side of the van. Tyler was forty yards from him now, running for all he was worth. To his horror, he suddenly noticed someone lying at the man’s feet.
Kelly! Please God, no! Jack’s arms pumped like pistons as he redoubled his efforts, sucking in air as he ran. His heart and mind were both racing. He would never forgive himself if anything had happened to Kelly.
He became aware of a third figure; this one slouched on the floor of the van, screaming hysterically. It was a middle-aged woman, and the scream he’d heard a few seconds earlier had obviously originated from her.
The suspect began a subtle retreat, keeping as much distance between himself and Tyler as he could. Was this the Ripper, Jack wondered? Was he finally about to come face to face with the monster he had been hunting for the last two weeks?
Two weeks! It felt more like two years.
Instinctively, Jack knew the fiend was going to run. But where could he go? This was a dead end, wasn’t it? As if on cue, the suspect turned and bolted along the path towards the old building.
“Stay where you are,” Jack raged, overcome by anger and frustration.
This placed Tyler in a dreadful predicament, one that tore him in two. He desperately wanted to catch the suspect, who was almost certainly the killer, but his overriding concern was for Kelly Flowers’ safety. He skidded to a halt as he reached the van, slamming into one of the open doors with a loud thud.
“Please help me,” the woman in the back sobbed. He ignored her completely. If she was well enough to make all that noise, she wasn’t in any immediate danger. He knelt down beside Kelly, examining her for signs of life.
Please be alive, Kelly. Please!
Her chest rose and fell normally, thank God. It meant she was still breathing. He pulled her jacket open, checking her front and back for puncture wounds. Unbelievably, there were none.
He realised that his unexpected appearance at the scene had saved her. Another few seconds and he would have been too late. Jack tenderly brushed the hair from her face. A nasty swelling had already begun to form along the side of her chin. Her condition was stable, but he couldn’t just leave her, even if it meant letting the bastard who’d done this escape.
The killer was almost out of sight and there was nothing Tyler could do about it.
“Jack!”
Tyler spun around to see Dillon sprinting towards him from the main road. A wave of relief flooded over him.
“Jack, are you alright?” Dillon shouted from thirty yards away. He was approaching like an express train.
Kissing Kelly’s forehead softly, Jack stood up, his jaw set determinedly. “Dillon, stay with Kelly, she’s hurt,” he yelled. There was no time to say more. With a final glance down at her bruised face, he set off in pursuit. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a slim chance.
