A small service station came into view and Firdy was tempted to stop for a few minutes. Perhaps a caffeine injection would do him good. He could justify that. Its lights called to him. He could see the signs offering fuel, fast food, fresh-filtered coffee. He liked such places; large railways and airports were particularly good too, especially in and around London. They granted him company while allowing him to maintain his anonymity. He was able to sit among people. Sometimes they glanced at his face and moved away, but usually they ignored him and he'd be able to sit close enough to smell their deodorants and perfumes, to hear their gloriously dull conversations, to feel the warmth from their bodies.
Although it was very late, he saw someone gazing at the menu above the counter in the coffee shop. He could stop for ten minutes.
But ten minutes was the difference between finding Sarah and having her move on, the difference between night and dawn.
Wincing as he drove by, he took solace from the fact that he was on his way to bigger things. Finding Sarah would be better than all the fast food eateries in London.
Motivated again, he tried to push the accelerator, but he already had it down to the floor. He felt stronger. He could do this. He was doing it.
He hadn't been driving long before he glimpsed the Cat on the bank. He swerved across two lanes onto the hard shoulder and hit the brakes.
The Cat had withdrawn, but after a minute it came into view alongside the van.
It had something in its mouth.
This time, Firdy didn't wind down the window to call to it. He called it with his mind, without desperation, without need.
Die alone, he thought, or live with me.
The Cat took a step forward and then another. It paused for a few seconds, almost sitting down, but then, unable to resist, it ran across the grass towards the van.
Satisfied, Firdy stepped out of the cab and opened up the rear doors. The Cat padded up to him, its head low and it dropped what it had been carrying at his feet.
It was a baby’s forearm. A finger and thumb were missing.
Get in.
The Cat hopped into the merciful darkness.
Firdy picked up the little arm and tossed it into the back. He slammed the door.
Shaking, he got back behind the wheel.
This was what happened when you lost control: people got hurt, people got killed and he would get caught.
He vowed never to lose control again, neither of himself nor the animals. He could do this. It was only for a day or two more.
He pulled away and brought the van up to speed.