‘Come on, she’s this way.’ I took off on foot again. Thank God, it was early morning and there weren’t many cars around. I did a quick check then darted across the huge intersection that led onto the motorway on my right. The chaos she could cause in peak traffic didn’t bear thinking about. The rail overpass loomed ahead and I got about fifty metres further up the road when I heard a strangled shout from behind me. I swung around in time to see Terry Bennett hit the ground and roll, hands clutching at his chest. By the time I got back to him his breaths were laboured and gasping, his ashen colour obvious despite the orange cast thrown by the overhead sodium street lights. Beads of perspiration joined to form small rivulets of sweat running down the sides of his face.

‘Shit, Terry, hang on, I’ll go get help.’

‘No, no.’ He clutched for his chest again and then my arm. ‘Sorry, arggghh.’ With his other hand he thrust the shotgun at me. ‘I’ll be okay, go.’ He tried to nod in the direction of Cassie. ‘You have to,’ he gasped.

‘No, I can’t do that. Don’t ask me to shoot her.’

‘She killed people. She’s injured, she’s panicked and she’s dangerous. You have to do it. You have to.’ He grit his teeth, sucking in air between them, while tears flowed from the corners of his eyes.

He was right, and it had to be done before she did more harm. I could hear sirens in the distance, as more emergency services headed for the scene. But there was no one else here now who could deal with this except me.

‘How?’ I said quietly. ‘Head or heart?’

‘Head.’

‘With a shotgun?’

‘They’re rifled slugs, they can do the job.’

‘How many rounds do I have?’

‘Two. One’s already loaded, the other’s in my coat pocket.’

Jesus.

I felt in his pocket until I found the other round. The size of it gave some reassurance.

‘You’ll be okay?’

He nodded, the movement clearly causing pain. ‘You have to get this done before she hurts someone else.’ His breathing, already laboured, shuddered with sobs. ‘I’m so sorry.’