Someone screamed, androgynous in their agony.
“Drop your—” a voice shouted, and gunfire erupted from a different direction. More of them! she thought. She risked a glance above the shallow kerb.
A Chopper was running towards her, barely thirty feet away, rifle held across his chest. As he saw her he paused and shouldered his rifle, and then he was smashed forwards in a haze of blood, pavement beneath him fracturing, a roar accompanying his death. Blood spattered the ground close to Lucy-Anne and she rolled back, stood, not knowing which way to turn.
Beyond the dead Chopper were three others, all of them dead and leaking across the ground. And beyond them, Jack and his friends were dragging a shape across the pavement, huddled low and heading for the cover of a boat ride ticket kiosk. Lucy-Anne couldn’t see who had been hit. She started running.
More gunfire burst from a building to her right, flashing from two second floor windows. The kiosk blurred, and splinters and shards of wood flicked at the air. They wouldn’t last a second behind there. Barely aware of what she was doing—not knowing what she could do—Lucy-Anne changed direction and ran for the building. It was a grand old structure, perhaps an up-market office block, and the storeys were tall. So the two Choppers fell at least fifteen feet when they were thrown from the windows.
Lucy-Anne winced at the crunch of breaking bones, but the silence that followed was a blessing.
A shape appeared in one window—a stocky woman in a short skirt, holding onto the window frame and looking down at what she had done. There was another, taller shape behind her, but Lucy-Anne could not make it out. Not quite. But she had seen that silhouette before, and she thought perhaps it was Reaper.
One of the Choppers was still alive, crawling away from the building in a vain attempt to escape. Lucy-Anne ignored them. They were a person in pain, but so was she. And they might have just killed one of her friends.
She ran. Focussed on the kiosk, ignoring the dead Choppers she passed and their spreading blood and broken weapons, she started sobbing uncontrollably as she saw Jack stand and look her way. And he smiled and opened his arms as she drew close, pulling her into a warm, loving, living embrace that made her, for the first time since Rook, glad to be alive.
There was nothing Jack could do. Guy Morris had been killed by a bullet in the throat as he’d tried yelling at the Choppers to drop their weapons. Two inches to the left or right and perhaps Jack could have healed the wound and saved him. But his spine had been smashed and he’d quickly bled out.
He embraced Lucy-Anne, so pleased to see her, to feel her warmth. Sparky and Jenna came and hugged them both, and for a brief, beautiful moment Jack wasn’t sure who was crying and who was not. When Fleeter reappeared with a clap and they parted, he realised that some of the tears were his.
Not relinquishing contact with Lucy-Anne, he turned to Fleeter. She still smiled, but looked more exhausted than ever.
“So where is he?” Jack asked.
“Gone.”
“He’s watching over us.”
Fleeter shrugged. “He cares. About what you’re doing.”
“Yeah. Right.” Jack was both furious and relieved. He’d been gathering his own strength, about to unleash his own shout again, when his father had killed the Choppers. More blood spilled to stain the London streets, and Jack’s memory, forever. But at least this time it had not been at his hand.
“So where is he now?” Sparky asked.
Fleeter glanced at Sparky, then back at Jack and Lucy-Anne. “Looks like you found your girlfriend.”
Jack could have punched her. He saw the mischief in her eyes as she looked over Jack’s shoulder at Rhali standing behind him, and he couldn’t believe she was doing this now, with the smell of death rich in the air. It was as if murder enlivened her.
“We really need to go!” Breezer said. He trotted along the riverbank path, skirting around the dead Choppers. From back the way they’d come, Jack heard more smashing glass, and a high, loud hooting sound that made his balls tingle with fear.
They ran. Lucy-Anne and Jenna went together, talking, their laughter perhaps a little too high and mad. Jack grasped Rhali’s hand and squeezed, and when she squeezed back he felt a rush of gratitude. He hoped she felt the warmth developing between the two of them—if not, he would make sure he told her what he felt at the first opportune moment. But she also recognised the strength of friendship and history between him and Lucy-Anne. He hadn’t even scratched the surface of how incarceration had affected her, but it seemed her mind was still sharp.
Still running, Jack leaned across to kiss her cheek, and she surprised him at the last moment by turning to him. Their lips met, and for a blissful instant nothing else mattered.
“Well, now,” Rhali said as they mounted the ramp leading down to the pontoon.
“Yeah,” Jack said. They had to let go hands and walk in single file, but he thought their touch would last forever.
CHAPTER SIX
ELEVEN
“Andrew’s with me,” Lucy-Anne said. “He knows. He…” She trailed off, confused and scared.
“I didn’t see Andrew,” Jack said. But did I see someone with her? Just for a moment?
“He came with me. From Hampstead Heath. Rook and I went there to find him, and Nomad was there, and Rook fell and I ran, but then Andrew came to me and he’s…dead, but not gone. Not quite gone. He brought me down here…and I dreamed I’d meet you all here!” She went from confused to delighted, her expression changing in a flash as she looked from Jack to Sparky to Jenna. Then her smiled dropped again as if punched from her face. “There’s a bomb!”
“We know,” Jenna said. She held Lucy-Anne and it was strange to see. The girl they all knew was not someone to be held or pitied. “The Choppers planted it, Miller triggered it. We’ve got maybe eleven hours.”
“You know?” Lucy-Anne asked. “Why? Who’s Miller? How did you find out?”
“There’s so much to tell you,” Jack said. “And it sounds like you have a lot to tell us. But your leg’s bleeding. Here. Let me—”
Lucy-Anne frowned and pulled away from Jenna, and for a moment it looked like she was going to jump back onto the pontoon before they’d even set off.
“Andrew?” she said, scanning the shore. “Andrew.”
“You’re back with us now,” Jack said.
“Jack’s told me a little about you,” Rhali said kindly.
Lucy-Anne’s face crumpled. The tears came without warning, and after a few deep sobs she rubbed them away just as quickly. “Oh Jack, I’m so tired,” she said. When she slumped down, Sparky was already there to catch her. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Breezer?” Jack asked.
“Yeah.” He pushed a button and the boat’s engine coughed and grumbled, but did not catch.
From somewhere out of sight on shore they heard the hooting from those strange, wild women.
“Breezer, now would be a good time for us to escape.”
“Yeah.” He pushed the button again, keeping it pushed in so that the engine turned and grumbled and turned again, and then it caught. Clouds of smoke belched from twin exhausts at the vessel’s rear, and Breezer slumped in relief.
“Your London river tour is about to begin,” he said, pushing the throttle forward. The boat bumped against the pontoon and then moved away.
Those women had something of the water about them, Jack thought. But when he saw them appear along the riverbank at the metal railing, they paused and watched the boat chugging away downriver. He sensed a moment of indecision in them as they seemed ready to give pursuit. But then they leapt into the water and swam in the opposite direction, moving incredibly quickly across the water’s slugging surface before diving and disappearing from view.