“Can you stay quiet? We don’t want anyone to hear us.”
Zoe nodded again, so Ruby reached over and pressed the button.
They watched the screen as a man dressed all in black entered the house. He looked down at the body on the floor, then looked up and around, as if he was getting his bearings.
Zoe screamed again. Ruby quickly put her hand back over Zoe’s mouth and continued to watch the screen.
Ruby’s chest had tightened and she knew her breathing was too shallow. But it was the best she could do.
Please hurry, Jack.
She could make out the man’s eyes through the slit in the black balaclava he wore. He’d heard something and was scanning, looking for the source of the sound. An image of evil, almost inhuman eyes flashed in her mind. He held a weapon, not a gun or a knife, but some kind of bow and arrow. He looked like a hunter from another time.
Please hurry, Jack.
CCTV sensors followed the man. She watched him enter each bedroom. Watched as he stood in the passageway, head darting from side to side, as if confused, as if working out his strategy. Watched as shards of blue and red light filtered across the passageway. Watched as the man ran from the house.
Watched as tears ran down her face, thinking of T1 and T2. Where was T1? A glimmer of hope touched her heart but she knew.
They died protecting us.
46 – The weariness of it all
THE BOAT STARTED TAKING WATER not far from shore. Now he was in deep water and the boat was filling rapidly. He looked back at the house. The walls and windows were lit up with the red and blue lights of police vehicles. He needed to put more distance between him and them, to get home before they looked to the river.
He’d placed his crossbow back in his backpack. His feet were covered in water—not a good time to discover the boat was unseaworthy but he would put the blame down to hitting the pontoon. Not a good time to enter the water when there were bull sharks and a man floating in the water with a crossbow bolt lodged in his neck. Blood. He hoped the sharks and their keen sense of smell were out of sync tonight.
Fear. He loved it.
He’d made it most of the way across, while the small boat got lower and lower in the water. The water pouring over the bow told him it was time to jump ship, to swim for shore. It was only a stone’s throw away. He should be able to swim that far, but the weight of his wet clothes and backpack worried him.
Treading water, he looked behind and saw ripples and bubbles as the boat said its last goodbye. Police officers were standing on the opposite shoreline shining their flashlights across the water, but the beams weren’t strong enough to reach him. One flashlight remained stationary. He could just make out their panic-filled voices. One officer ran and dived into the water.
They’d found one of their own. Dead.
He felt no remorse, just the cold creeping into his own body.
Something nibbled at his right leg. He kicked it away. Again a nibble came, stronger this time. And another, but this one was more like a bite. He swallowed a mouth full of water and coughed, thinking of the darkness beneath him. Just don’t let the creatures sense fear.
The police officers hadn’t heard his cough, as their focus remained on their departed comrade.
He rolled onto his side with an arm out in front of him, and starting stroking and gliding himself to the shore. Another bite came and he gave a solid kick with his leg. This swimming was harder work than he thought, and he needed to rest after only a few strokes. But the thought of a shark attack soon got his engine going again. He felt afraid, and felt guilty that he felt afraid.
He continued his sidestroke, fighting against the weight of his clothes and backpack. But he had to keep his backpack, because he needed the things inside. Sure, they’d be useless to a drowned man but he wasn’t going to be a drowned man. He was going to live.
He could see a boat moving towards him. As it came closer through the dark inky waters, he could see there was only one person on board, steering, but focused on the light show taking place on the far shoreline. Toby Watts had a decision to make.
<°)))><
Jack’s phone beeped loudly. He reached over and picked it up. The large digital numbers told him it was only midnight, but he felt he’d been asleep for days. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He squinted a few times to get the focus right, and read the text message.
The safe house has been compromised. Not good news—he closed his eyes after reading it. Weariness came over him and he turned to look at Erica. She opened her eyes and gave him a gentle smile.
She whispered, “I love you, Jack.”
His eyes were watery. This woman had changed. He needed what she had found.
“I love you too, hon,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. My poor Ruby is in trouble.”
He dressed quickly, in jeans, hoodie and running shoes, then walked over to the mirror. He looked weary. He felt weary. My poor Ruby is in trouble. It wasn’t like him to think such things.
Jack didn’t normally personalise his investigations. Was that a good or a bad thing? He was sick of the evil in the world. Was it possible to have peace on earth? How? Put the baddies to one side and the goodies to the other and put a border between them? But who would judge who is good and who is bad? Is that you, Jesus? Is that your job? Why did he think that? He didn’t know.
He walked down the stairs quietly, so as not to wake Johnny. He did a fingertip kiss and blew it towards his bedroom door. He would spend more time with him soon.
Catherine sat in a vehicle in the driveway. She lived not far from Jack. It must be so much easier to do this work as a single person. Maybe not, because he knew Catherine longed for a partner.
He opened the door and sat in the passenger’s seat. There was chatter going over the police radio system and Catherine’s face was lit up from the dashboard lights.
“Hello, Jack,” she said, with a slight pause. “It’s not good.”
“Okay. Give it to me.”
“We’ve lost detectives Tanner and Teasdale.”
Jack was glad she didn’t refer to them as T1 and T2. That would’ve been too impersonal, too sad.
“I’m sick of this, Cath.”
