Page 65 of Now Comes the Dark

“An ambulance is on the way…”

He couldn’t surrender to unconsciousness. He struggled into a sitting position. “Mallon. Mallon.”Where is he?

“Your friend is okay, thanks to you,” a kind voice told him.

“Is he breathing?” he asked weakly.

“He’s alive. Don’t worry for now.”

He allowed the people around to comfort him. Another coat was draped around his shoulders, a hot drink brought to his lips.

“It’s coffee. Sip it slowly,” a woman said. “Nice and easy.”

He wrapped his hands gratefully around the mug, still numb throughout.

Mallon was on the ground to his left. He was unconscious. Someone had brought a pile of tablecloths from one of therestaurants. They shook out one after another and draped them over his still body, trying to keep him warm. A man knelt beside him and rubbed him vigorously from chest to waist. They knew what they were doing.

Please be okay. Please hold on.

There were other voices, close by, raised in concern.

“Hey, you need to sit down. Help is on the way.”

Roman turned to look.

Will, surrounded by four other people, struggled to his feet. He swayed, looking around, getting his bearings.

“Sit down,” a woman pleaded with him. “You need medical help.”

Will locked eyes with Roman. A wild, panicked expression flashed over his face. He pushed aside the concerned woman and staggered backwards. He was in better shape than either Roman or Mallon. He turned and set off along the quayside, slowly, staggering towards the city centre.

“Stop,” Roman croaked.

“It’s all right,” someone told him. “Help will be here soon.”

The people who had tried to help Will looked on in amazement as he lurched away from them, taking stuttering steps, limping on his injured leg.

“Stop him,” Roman said. His voice had little volume. The people closest to Will couldn’t hear him. He grabbed the wrist of a man close by. “Stop him,” he urged. “He’s the Blyham Strangler.”

The man gawped. “What?”

“Don’t let him get away,” his voice grew louder as desperation returned. “He’s the Strangler.”

His words took an age to sink into the crowd.

“He’swhat?”

“The Strangler?”

Sensing the impending threat, Will quickened his pace, breaking into a half-run.

“He’s getting away,” Roman cried.

Finally, realisation dawned. Two young men and a woman grasped the meaning of what Roman had said.

“Stop the fucker,” the woman yelled.

The three of them tore after him. Will moved even faster.

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