Page 64 of Deep Waters

It seemed unlikely. It wasn’t that far from here—a ten-minute walk at most.

Then the creeping dread intensified. Had Reece Wallace caught up with Harry and Antoni before they made it back? No. It couldn’t be. Arnie had to be right about Reece fleeing Nyemouth. Why wouldn’t he when the police were looking to arrest him?

Because he’s a killer. Because he’s not in the right frame of mind.

Fuck it. Christian couldn’t wait around doing nothing. It would be dark soon. He had to find Harry and make sure he was safe.

His feet slipped as he sprinted along Pier Street. Christian caught himself and kept from falling over. Undeterred, he pressed on.

* * * *

Stew Wallace had a large, lumbering frame and Harry outran him easily, however he realised in an instant what a mistake he had made heading onto the pier. He was trapped. It had been the only option. To the right, the cliff face was sheer and insurmountable. If he’d gone left, he would never have made it across the jagged rocks to the safety of the seafront cottages. The waves were already washing over them.

And what of Antoni?

He risked a look behind. Stew was still coming, a good twenty feet behind him—and beyond, Antoni was on the ground, clutching his stomach. Harry saw movement. He was alive. Badly wounded, but not out. Now Harry had to save himself if Antoni was to stand a chance.

Stew had the knife and came at him in a demented rage.

What the hell has gotten into him?

Is he really crazy enough to kill because his son shot a few raunchy video clips?

The answer was obviously yes.

A colossal wave hit the pier sideways on. Harry ducked as it sprayed its spume forty feet above his head. It pulled him to the right as it washed over the boards. He steadied himself before getting up and running again. It was far too dangerous to be out here, even without the crazed knife-carrying man.

Harry darted towards the lighthouse. The wooden boards were slippery underfoot, but he had to keep going. Even as he ran, he knew it was hopeless. The lighthouse was automated, and the doors were bound to be locked, but it was his only chance. If he could get inside and shut Stew out, he’d have a chance of raising the alarm.

Another wave hit, even bigger than the first. Harry leapt sideways, throwing his body against the railings, gripping them tight as the backwash poured down on him, threatening to take him over. The force of the water was like nothing he’d ever known. He held on until it had passed.

He looked back in the hope it might have taken Stew—or even just his knife. No such luck. The fisherman was on his feet again, closing the gap between them.

In a daze, Harry started for the lighthouse once more.

At its base, three stone steps led to the door. He bolted, ascended them three at a time, and clutched the handle. Locked.Damn it. He rattled, knowing it was hopeless. There was no one inside.

Focus on survival.

He turned in time to see that Stew was almost upon him. The thin knife arched through the air.

Harry had no self-defence training. Having spent the whole of his life in this small town, working on and around boats, he had never needed it. Now he cursed that mistake. As Stew came at him, the knife intent on its target, Harry reacted on instinct without thought or planning. He dropped, sliding down the three stone steps, ducking out of Stew’s reach.

The fisherman snorted frustration, turning upon him.

Harry kicked, going straight for his shins, putting as much force as he possessed into the thrust. Stew snarled, falling backwards, losing his balance just as another wave struck the pier.

For several seconds, Harry couldn’t see a thing. The saltwater that surged over him stung his eyes. He dug his fingers into the space between the boards, gripping against the force of the wash back. When he opened his eyes again, Stew had been carried six feet towards the railing.

The fisherman rose to his knees, shaking off the spray.

He still had the knife.

Will this nightmare ever end?

* * * *

Christian reached the top of the bank that led to the pier. In the darkening gloom, it took his mind a moment to understand what he was seeing. To the seaward side, the grey waves were mountainous, smashing to shore and sending great columns of spray into the air, dwarfing the wooden structure.

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