Mary picked up the pace across the pedestrian Millennium Bridge, but her stride abruptly faltered at the sound of barking by her side. The black dog was spooked by something back in the direction of St Paul’s. She heard the high-pitched whine of motorcycle engines long before she saw them. Three bikes whipped down the pedestrian precinct linking the cathedral to the north side of the bridge. Mary sensed that something was terribly wrong. She quickly turned in the other direction along the bridge.
On the south bank of the river, another motorcycle was blasting its way through the traffic to a chorus of horns and screeching tyres. It mounted the pavement and, with a burst of throttle, climbed the stairs accessing the pedestrian-only bridge. Seconds later, the rider was kicking through the gears and gunning hard towards Mary. The few pedestrians on the bridge scattered as the bikes closed in on Mary from both sides. The air seemed to erupt in engine noise.
Mary and the dog were in the centre of the bridge with the bikes closing in on them hard and fast. They were trapped. Fear washed over her. The black dog paced at Mary’s side biting at the air, readying itself for battle. Seconds later, there was the locking of motorcycle back wheels, followed by plumes of tyre smoke billowing in the air. The tortured screams of revving engines were deafening.
Mary’s hand dived into the pocket of her coat and gripped the Rod tightly. One by one, the bikes started to circle her like a school of sharks. Mary’s eyes darted wildly around her, trying to keep up with the position of each of the bikes. Moments later, the riders came to a halt and, with the engines still running, quickly dismounted from their machines. The air reeked of burned rubber. She couldn’t see the faces, as their features were covered with tinted visors. Now off the bikes, two of the riders were obviously much bigger than the others. These larger two were tall and thick-muscled, like rugby forwards, the bulk of their frames straining against their motorcycle leathers.
Mary caught a glance of something in the hand of one of the bigger men. They were inching their way closer to her and the snarling dog. Mary didn’t wait to be set upon. It was as if she and the dog were different parts of the same cornered wild animal. They attacked first. With teeth, nails and claws lashing out, they launched themselves at the riders in front of them. Mary’s target stood firm, his hand swiping around the back of her head. In a corkscrewing twist of her body, Mary swept out her foot, using her heel as a weapon. The strike landed perfectly into the rider’s shin, sending him teetering backwards.
At Mary’s side, the dog was snapping into one of the rider’s forearms, trying to gain a grip against the armoured plating embedded in the sleeve of his motorcycle jacket. Violently, he tried to shake the animal free, sending trails of foaming spit into the air. The animal dropped to the ground and, with flashing white teeth, took a snarling bite at the man’s calf. This time its jaws squeezed down into flesh. The animal tasted blood. A sickening scream ripped through the sound of the idling motorcycle engines.
From the side, the dog felt something spray against its face; a wet mist covering its eyes and nose. Within moments, the effect of the pepper spray had stopped the dog’s attack dead in its tracks. The animal released its grip on the rider’s leg, shaking its head in frenzy. The intense burning heat of the spray flooded its eyes and nostrils.
A stab of panic shot through Mary’s brain. Then she felt a hard jab in the small of her back. She hit the side of the bridge hard with the force of the blow. A meaty fist grabbed the back of her coat, and she fell back. Scrabbling to her feet, she turned and stepped squarely into the arc of a swinging fist. The punch landed hard, rattling her jaw and blurring her vision. Her legs crumpled beneath her, and she sprawled onto her back.
For the briefest of moments, her vision floated unsteadily with the muffled sound of the dog barking close by. She felt her shoulders yanked upwards and her chest prodded and shoved. Dark shapes streaked across her face. Hands were inside her coat. She tried to kick out but she was pinned against the side of the bridge by an overwhelming force.
What was happening suddenly gripped hold of her. Her brain kicked into overdrive. They were stealing the rod! Writhing against the crushing force, she caught a glimpse of the Rod. She tried to scream, but it came out as a desperate gasp. Mary gave out a hard, stamping kick. It hit its target, and she felt the pressure pinning her to the side of the bridge temporarily slacken. Dropping down, she wriggled past her assailant. With a quick sidestep, she broke free, her eyes glancing sideways towards the dog. She took a step in the dog’s direction, but her head was violently wrenched back. From behind, one of the riders had taken a grip of her wild hair. In an instant, they were upon her.
She felt her arms being restrained, and a dark shadow loomed up in front of her. Mary’s eyes didn’t register which of the riders delivered the crushing blow to her stomach, but the force of the impact lifted her off her feet. A tower of pain soared through her, and she hit the side of the bridge with a horrible crunch. From the floor, she reached out towards the dog, its head thrashing from side to side, snarling at an invisible enemy. Sounds were suddenly distant, as if her ears were muffled. She tried to move, but her limbs refused to respond. It was as if she were detached from her own body; a remote observer to the horror that was unfolding.
She was being raised off the ground in a series of wild, jerky movements. Her head shot back unsupported as the two bigger riders wrenched Mary’s dead weight onto their shoulders. Mary’s hands scrabbled for purchase, but her fingers only met empty space. With an explosion of muscle power, the riders launched Mary over the side of the bridge. In that second, she felt her life collapsing in on itself. Air rushed into her eyes as she fell. She kept falling for what seemed like an age, until she smashed into the water, like a depth charge detonating.
She gasped several mouthfuls of freezing water and then her body went limp. Bubbles streamed to the surface as the darkness of the Thames swallowed her up.