‘Take them off,’ he finally ordered, to no one in particular.

Everyone stopped, including Gabriel. As Chandler stepped forward to remove the cuffs Mitch took charge. ‘Mr Johnson, we’re letting you out of these cuffs for now but I need to see more progress.’

Gabriel nodded.

Gabriel stuck to his promise and the pace immediately increased, the now freed man seeming to almost float over the ground. Chandler’s senses heightened. In the cuffs Gabriel had been pretty helpless, but now they had a free-moving suspect with possible knowledge of his surroundings. Despite the increase in pace, the random zigzagging continued, dragging the group along behind.

The day swept on, the relentless sun fraying nerves and patience. As Chandler was beginning to think that it was a waste of time and that they should return and get Heath, Gabriel suddenly stopped, the group concertinaing behind him.

‘What is it?’ asked Chandler.

‘I fell here,’ said Gabriel, shivering, terror coursing through him. Chandler held back, as if contact would break the spell. ‘He nearly got me.’

The tremor returned, even more intense. Chandler wondered what the hell they were going to do if their suspect had a nervous breakdown. Then suddenly, Gabriel set off at a sprint, the suddenness of the movement catching everyone out. He easily gained ten metres before the entourage had a chance to react.

‘Stop!’

Mitch and Chandler yelled out simultaneously but this did nothing to slow Gabriel who moved with a sure-footed nimbleness.

Chandler led the chasing pack. Roper and others from Mitch’s squad jogged up hard on the outside; Luka too, though it was increasingly hard to determine what team he ascribed to now.

Despite further calls to stop, Gabriel increased his lead. After a few hundred metres he disappeared behind a set of boulders. Unleashing his handgun Mitch ordered his officers to get their tasers out, find Gabriel and take him down.

Chandler charged onwards, panting for air. Rounding the set of boulders he expected to find that Gabriel had disappeared into thin air, but there he was, standing at the edge of a small clearing in the scrub, soil disturbed in rectangular patches, the edges too perfect to be natural. The gravesite.

‘Freeze there, Mr Johnson!’ shouted Mitch, his officers moving into position to let loose the electric barbs of their tasers if required. But Gabriel wasn’t moving. He had his back to them, his shoulders jerking as he sobbed and continued to gaze at the clearing, even as Mitch forced him to his knees and reattached the cuffs.