Page 67 of Deep Waters

The loss of the weapon seemed to rekindle Stew’s rage.

He was on top of Harry again, covering his back. The older man laid into Harry with his fists, pounding into the soft tissue of his lower torso, aiming for the kidneys and liver. Pain exploded inside him, but he wasn’t about to give in yet.

They were drenched by the force of a fresh wave. The cold water brought the weight of Stew’s body down even heavier on him. Harry found it difficult to breathe. He managed to free an arm from underneath and smashed it backwards, striking Stew’s face with luck rather than skilled aim. Stew howled and relaxed his grip enough for Harry to shuffle free.

Then, above the sound of the wind and sea, he heard something else.Sirens.

Dragging his body away from Stew, Harry looked up to see the flash of blue lights at the top of the bank. The police were on their way.

There was no time to relax yet.

He rolled over and rose to a sitting position. He was close to the railing and gripped it for support.

Stew was on his knees a couple of yards away. He held his hand to his lower face. Blood poured over his knuckles and some of the fight had left him.

“It’s over,” Harry shouted. “Can’t you hear it? The police are coming. Give yourself up, for the sake of your family. Do you have any idea what this will do to them?”

Stew got his balance back and rose to his feet, still clutching his bloody nose. He gazed in the direction of the sirens. Two police cars and an ambulance were at the top of the bank. Uniformed figures raced along the path.

“It’s finished,” Harry shouted. “Give up.”

Stew didn’t even look at him. With his eyes fixed on the flashing lights, he stumbled to the railing on the opposite side of the pier. Harry realised what he was about to do but didn’t have the energy left to stop him. Stew climbed onto the rail.

Harry bowed his head as the next wave washed over the top. When the water drained away and he opened his eyes, Stew Wallace was gone.

Christian.

Harry crawled on all fours towards him. Christian lay on his side, curled in a foetal position, not moving.

“Christian,” he called, climbing over him.

Christian held his hands folded across his abdomen. There was a cut on his arm which didn’t look serious. It was the belly wound that concerned Harry the most. He shook Christian’s shoulder. He was freezing to the touch.

His eyes fluttered.

Thank God.

Harry looked along the pier. The police and ambulance were parked up, but there was no sign of them coming out to get them.Shit. Do they even know we’re here?

Depending on what Antoni was able to tell them, they might not.

“Hey,” Harry hollered, “over here.”

Useless. His words were taken in the wrong direction by the wind.

He gave Christian another shake and his eyes opened wide.

“I’m sorry, darling, but I’m going to have to move you. We need to get to the shore. I don’t think they know we’re here.”

“Stew?” Christian croaked.

“Don’t worry. He’s gone.”

“Did…did he hurt you?”

“Nothing serious. A few bruises. Don’t worry about me.”

Christian gasped and grimaced as Harry eased him into a sitting position. “Fuck. The bastard got me good.”

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