Part 6 (1/2)

Well, I'd about had as much running as I could take, but I kept at it. And so did he. He wasn't about to give up the chase. I wasn't about to let him catch me.

The race seemed to go on for hours. Couldn't have been that long, really, but it felt like it.

And then I dashed out of a s.p.a.ce between a couple of warehouses or factories or something and straight across the road from me was the river Thames.

I made for it.

The Ripper was quick on his feet, but how would he be in the water? If he wasn't much at swimming, I'd be in fine shape.

I raced out onto a dock that had some boats beside it. I glimpsed some other boats moored a ways offsh.o.r.e, and saw Tower Bridge off in the distance. The bridge gave me a clue as to where I'd ended up, but where I was didn't count for much. All that mattered was getting into the river ahead of the Ripper, who was clomping along the boards behind me, snorting and growling.

The tide was in, so I figured I wouldn't wind up pounding myself into the sand.

At the end of the dock, I flung my arms out straight and dived, shoving off as hard as I could. It seemed I was in the air forever. Then the river smacked my front. It wasn't much colder than the rain, and I was so hot from all the running that it almost felt good. I kicked along, staying below the surface and fighting my way through the currents. No splashes came from behind me, though I'm not sure I would've heard them anyhow.

Maybe he hadn't followed me into the water.

Or any second he might just grab one of my feet.

I changed my angle a bit to throw him off.

I needed a breath in the worst way, but I stayed under and kicked and paddled with my arms. The knife in my right hand was slowing me down. Figured I might have a call to use it, though, so I kept hold. Wasn't long before my chest felt like it might either burn up or explode, so I surfaced. My head popped out of the water. I sucked in air, and twisted around.

And saw the Ripper.

He was nothing more than a dim shape in the rain and darkness, but the way he was crouched at the edge of the dock, busy working on a task I couldn't rightly see, I figured what he must be up to.

Untying a painter that belonged to one of the dinghies floating by the dock.

He aimed to come after me in a boat!

Didn't seem fair. But I wasn't about to waste any time cursing him or my fate. I swung around and churned the river.

Next time I looked back, he was in a boat and rowing after me.

I took to diving under and changing course. Thought about doubling back on him, but knew I couldn't hold my breath long enough to pull it off. On top of that, I was getting mighty tuckered out from struggling with the currents.

Then it came to me that I might take cover behind one of the bigger boats that were moored nearby.

Even better to board one. Then I might have a chance at bas.h.i.+ng him if he tried to climb up after me.

I swam for a sloop that was anch.o.r.ed off to the right. The way it floated there, all dark and quiet, it looked deserted.

That's where I'd make my stand.

The Ripper's dinghy was still a good distance off when I reached up and grabbed the anchor chain. I clamped the knife between my teeth, pirate fas.h.i.+on, and s.h.i.+nned up to the prow. It was no easy trick, but I made it. I clambered over the side and got the deck under my hands and knees. Felt so tuckered I wanted to flop and rest, but the Ripper wouldn't give me any time for that.

I stumbled to my feet and took the knife out of my teeth. As I turned to look for him, a shape came rus.h.i.+ng at me.

I didn't have time to say h.e.l.lo or ask for help or duck.

The bloke laid a club across my head.

The night flashed real bright for a bit. Then the deck pounded my knees. Then I didn't feel a thing.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

On the Thames in the True D. Light True D. Light It came as a great surprise to wake up at all. If I'd been aware enough to give the matter any thought, I would've concluded that my days of waking up were over for good.

When I opened my eyes, I met so many surprises they pretty much left me dumbfounded.

It was daytime, gray light coming through the portholes of the narrow cabin where I was stretched out.

There was a mattress under me, covers heaped on top of me.

I felt ropes around my wrists and ankles.

The way everything pitched and rocked, it didn't take much figuring to realize I was on a boat. Probably the same boat I'd boarded hoping to fight off the Ripper, the same boat where someone had brained me senseless.

So what had become of Jack the Ripper?

Though my head was aching fierce, I raised it off the pillow for a look around.

The young woman on the other bed wasn't covered. She wore a white nightdress. Her arms were lashed against her sides, her feet bound together. Her head rested on the lap of a man wearing trousers and a heavy sweater and a bandage that masked most of his face. The bulk of the bandage was where his nose used to be.

The bandage was muddy brown in its center with blood that had seeped through and dried.

This was my first good look at the Ripper. Though finding him sitting just a few feet away gave me an awful turn, he didn't appear particularly fiendish in the daylight. His black hair was neatly trimmed, parted up the middle. He had rather dainty eyebrows. His brown eyes were small and close together, while his ears stuck out like big flaps. His mouth wasn't much more than a slit, and had only a trace of lips. What with his thin lips and sunken chin, his upper front teeth stuck out in a way that might've been comical if I hadn't known who he was.

With his right hand, he stroked the woman's hair. The knife was in his left, resting on her belly while he stared back at me for a spell. Then he raised it and gave the blade a twirl in the air.

”Greetings,” he said. He sounded like he had a stuffed up nose.

The woman was wide awake, gazing up at him with weary, scared eyes.

”I've spared your life, you miserable whelp, so I expect your everlasting grat.i.tude.” He said that as if it were a joke.

”b.u.g.g.e.r off,” I told him.

He laughed.

The gal darted her eyes over at me.

I sat up. The covers fell down to my waist. I was s.h.i.+rtless. From the feel of the bedclothes, I was trouserless as well.

The Ripper kept his eyes on me. They looked amused.