Free Darkside by Tom Becker

he was out. The giant threw the door down on to the pavement, only to see Jonathan sprinting away on the other side of the car.
    â€œJonathan!” Mrs Elwood screamed out of her window. “Run!”
    He didn’t need telling twice. Jonathan raced down the central lines of traffic, protected by the massed ranks of stationary cars. He turned his head to check that Mrs Elwood was safe, and was relieved to see that the giant had forgotten about the car and was walking unhurriedly after Jonathan instead. Slipping between two cars, he cut left and headed down a side street that led to the Thames waterfront. His attention firmly fixed on Humble, Jonathan didn’t notice the black van parked on the side of the road. He didn’t see the side door open and a small, bald man come bounding out. Nor did he see the woman dressed in a long black cloak with fluorescent yellow hair. He didn’t notice any of this until it was too late.
    Jonathan ran crashing straight into Marianne’s arms. At once that familiar intoxicating scent washed over him.
    â€œHello again, Jonathan. It’s nice to see you again. We missed you last time.”
    He wriggled in her arms, trying to hold his breath. Beside him Skeet giggled and poked him sharply in the ribs.
    â€œNo way, heh, no way out this time, puppy.”
    The giant was catching up with them. If he got his hands on Jonathan then he was doomed. Still writhing and kicking, Jonathan’s hands scrabbled around for anything that might help him. His left hand closed around a chunk of Marianne’s hair. He yanked as hard as he could, and she screamed in pain. Skeet threw his head back and screeched in sympathy. Jonathan seized the opportunity to kick him sharply in the shins, and break away from the two of them. He spun off down towards the Thames Path.
    â€œHumble!” Marianne shouted, clutching her head. “Get him!”
    Jonathan pounded along the Thames Path. The weather was closing in, and the biting wind and rain had driven people off the streets and indoors. The river was at low tide, but under the bridges waves lashed at the struts. Globular lamps lined his route, giving the path a ghostly white hue. Behind him, Jonathan heard a sound and looked back over his shoulder. What he saw chilled him to the bone. The giant Humble had broken out of his show shuffle into a full-pelt sprint. His long, spindly legs stepped up into a spidery scuttle that ate up the ground and propelled him forward at an unnatural speed. Jonathan gasped and redoubled his efforts. As he ran, the metal girders of Blackfriars Bridge loomed into view.
    He skidded to a halt at the base of the bridge, where the explorer Raphael Stevenson and Molly had come over a century before him. A metal staircase led up from the path and on to Blackfriars Bridge proper, which stretched out across the black expanse of the Thames. The path carried on underneath the bridge, and on through an extended section of scaffolding. To his left, a ladder curled over the top of the riverfront wall and led directly to the bed of the Thames. Jonathan glanced hurriedly over the side. The tide was low enough for the muddy, stony bottom of the river to be visible at the fringes of the waterway.
    Jonathan hesitated, the wind whistling across his face. Up the stairs lay London, the city he knew, crammed with bright lights and crowds of people. If the book was right, down the ladder lay a crossing point, and the unknown dangers of Darkside. The giant would be on him in seconds; he had to decide . . .
    With one last look at the London skyline, Jonathan hoisted himself up on to the top of the wall and began to shin down the ladder. The rungs were cold and slippery from the rain, and in his haste he lost his footing. His feet shot out into the air, and his arms yanked in their sockets as he gripped the rung. He had to cling on with all his might to stop himself falling down to the riverbed. From somewhere back on the path he