The fact that he was running around down here in the car park, and not under arrest up at the boat, could only mean that something had gone dreadfully wrong during the armed deployment, but there was no time to dwell on that, not with their lives in danger.
The rain that had been threatening for some time chose this precise moment to start falling, bombarding Tyler with icy drops of water the size of fifty-pence pieces. Almost immediately, there was a flash of lightning out in the channel, and its glow briefly lit up Garston’s sinister figure as it loomed over Susie.
Tyler decided to try and jump Garston while his back was still turned, but before he could act, the gunman turned away from Susie and rushed over to the car. He jumped into the driver’s seat, but then stopped abruptly, and Tyler could hear him muttering, “No, no, no,” under his breath as he fumbled around on the dash, searching for something. The words became increasingly manic, making him sound a little unhinged. A split second later, he sprung out of the car in a state of agitation.
“The keys, where are the fucking keys?”
Susie held up her right hand and wiggled it triumphantly. “Here,” she said, and even from a distance, Tyler could see the smile of satisfaction that had crept onto her face. Despite the terrifying ordeal of being dragged from the car at gunpoint, Susie had somehow managed to remove the key from the ignition.
Visibly shaking with anger, Garston thrust his left hand out towards her. “Give them to me,” he demanded, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice. To emphasise how serious he was, he thumbed back the gun’s hammer to incentivise her.
Susie disobediently shook her head. “Why don’t you come and get them?” she dared him, jiggling the keyring tauntingly.
At first, Tyler couldn’t work out why she was deliberately antagonising him like this, but then it dawned on him that she was doing it to create a distraction that would allow him to get clear of the car.
Her bravery brought a lump to his throat.
Tyler hated the repellent ugliness of death; he walked amongst it every day, took its smell home on his clothing every night, even had it visit him during his dreams. Now, as Susie’s life hung in the balance, he wondered if death had stowed itself away in their car tonight, and was now gloating at him as it waited for Garston to serve up its next victim.
As Garston took a first menacing step towards her, Jack realised that he had to intervene, even if it cost him his own life. He stepped clear of the Astra and raised the heavy torch to use as a club. As he did, something crunched under his foot and Jack stopped dead in his tracks, hardly daring to breathe.
Please don’t let him have noticed, he prayed.
Like a predatory animal, Garston’s head came up as he heard the sound behind him and, with a vicious snarl, he spun around, bringing the revolver up in one fluid movement.
Jack dived behind the Astra just as a bullet thudded into the side of the trunk inches from his head.
“Jesus!” he breathed as the rear light cluster was blown apart.
Dropping flat onto his stomach, Tyler anxiously peered under the car. To his relief, Garston’s feet were still over by the driver’s door. Peering around the side of the car, Tyler cringed at the sight of the jagged bullet hole that had been intended for him.
“Give me the keys,” a near-hysterical Garston screamed at her. He emphasised the need for urgency by beckoning her towards him with cupped fingers.
“If you want them,” she said, slowly standing up, “you go and get them.” With that, she tossed the keys as far as she could across the car park floor.
“No!” Garston cried out as his only means of escape tumbled through the night air and disappeared into the darkness.
Knowing he wouldn’t get another chance, Tyler burst from cover and sprinted towards Garston, raising his right arm as he ran. He was about eight feet away when he threw the torch, and it cartwheeled through the air in a blur, covering the eight feet between them in the blink of an eye.
As Garston twisted to face him, squeezing the trigger without even taking aim, the four-cell metal torch hit him squarely in the forehead with a loud clunk. The force of the impact knocked him back several paces, arms flailing as he went.
As the wildly fired round whizzed past his head, Tyler lowered his shoulder and slammed it into Garston’s midriff. Wrapping his arms around the man’s legs as he let out a long battle cry, he lifted him clear off the floor and carried him backwards.
Sailing through the air as Tyler’s feet left the ground, they landed heavily with Tyler on top. He immediately seized the fugitive’s right wrist in both hands and began smashing the gun into the floor, trying to shake it loose, but Garston was having none of it. As his senses rebooted, he reached up with his left hand and clawed at Tyler’s face.
Tyler swatted the hand away and threw a punch at Garston’s chin, but the fugitive was bucking and twisting so violently beneath him that Jack couldn’t generate enough leverage to deliver the haymaker he’d hoped for, and his punch glanced ineffectually off his opponent’s jaw.
As he wound his arm back for another strike,
