fend off her attacker and pull Brigit away from
the clutches of the other.
With the door now open, the first
man took hold of Helen roughly and dragged her toward the road, but she had had
the good sense to remain buckled in. In his crazed and obsessed state, the
assailant realised the safety belt would need to be released if he were to
secure his prey. Screaming continued from both women.
My front seat position was
proving to be a handicap. Brigit was beyond arm’s length and Helen’s dilemma
had reached a critical point. I had to do something to assist them, and
quickly. Think! I spotted the steering wheel lock resting on the front
passenger’s seat. At around half a metre of hardened steel, it made a
formidable weapon. Helen’s belt had become unfastened and her slender stature
couldn’t resist the bullying tactics of her aggressor. I reached for the weapon
and took aim. The thug from Brigit’s side saw my intent and immediately yelled
to his accomplice.
But the deed was done. With one
downward thrust the steering lock connected squarely with the man’s forearm,
sending him into a continuous scream. When he retreated to tend to his wound I
focused my attention on the other side, for the first man had already leaned
forward through a further broken window and had hold of Brigit. With her arm
supported by a sling, her ability to fight back was restricted. I still had the
lock in my hand, but with Brigit in the far rear seat the distance was too
great to swing the bar effectively. I immediately passed it to Helen, yelling
at her to ram it into his face. With two hands grasping the bar, she lunged
forward and completely missed her target. I screamed at her to try again. Not
only did she break his nose with her second swipe, but a third blow landed
squarely to the side of his head, rendering the man unconscious.
Sliding backward through the
window opening, the assailant caught his head on some glass protruding from the
side frame. Two large fragments were catastrophic in punishment, carving their
passage upon his skull as he slowly descended into a collapsed heap through the
opening.
We had managed to escape again
but this was no time to wait around for another onslaught. We had to move
quickly, and now. With a turn of the ignition the motor responded. I placed the
gear lever in reverse, and gave myself room to go around the 4WD.
‘Hold on!’ I roared.
In my rush to escape the carnage
the engine accelerated to four or five thousand revs, creating one hell of a
noise and leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke. I tore down this stretch of
road, constantly looking across at the mirror. We were into our third block
past the first intersection and no sign of life from behind. I tried to remain
calm and focused. The night air rushing in where windows once served was
incredibly cold. The women huddled together to gain some warmth, but it was all
in vain since the draught had turned the car’s interior into something
reminiscent of a wind tunnel. I felt for my two companions, thinking that no
person deserved the trauma we’d just been through. These guys must be desperate
to silence Brigit, I thought. I wondered if they ever accepted defeat. A minute
had passed and still no 4WD in pursuit. I was now confident the worst had
passed.
‘Did either of you recognise
those men?’ I called over the wind in the car.
‘No,’ Helen shouted back and
added, ‘I didn’t think to get their number plate.’
‘They were trying to drag us from
the car!’ Brigit snapped. ‘Number plates were the last damn thing on my mind!’
‘Tom, would you take us to the
police station now. This matter has gone way beyond a joke,’ insisted Helen.
‘Certainly. I’m low on fuel
anyway and the service stations are probably all closed at this hour. We’ll run
out of petrol if we keep travelling around. There’s probably no more than ten
kilometres left in the tank.’
As anticipated,
the clutches of the other.
With the door now open, the first
man took hold of Helen roughly and dragged her toward the road, but she had had
the good sense to remain buckled in. In his crazed and obsessed state, the
assailant realised the safety belt would need to be released if he were to
secure his prey. Screaming continued from both women.
My front seat position was
proving to be a handicap. Brigit was beyond arm’s length and Helen’s dilemma
had reached a critical point. I had to do something to assist them, and
quickly. Think! I spotted the steering wheel lock resting on the front
passenger’s seat. At around half a metre of hardened steel, it made a
formidable weapon. Helen’s belt had become unfastened and her slender stature
couldn’t resist the bullying tactics of her aggressor. I reached for the weapon
and took aim. The thug from Brigit’s side saw my intent and immediately yelled
to his accomplice.
But the deed was done. With one
downward thrust the steering lock connected squarely with the man’s forearm,
sending him into a continuous scream. When he retreated to tend to his wound I
focused my attention on the other side, for the first man had already leaned
forward through a further broken window and had hold of Brigit. With her arm
supported by a sling, her ability to fight back was restricted. I still had the
lock in my hand, but with Brigit in the far rear seat the distance was too
great to swing the bar effectively. I immediately passed it to Helen, yelling
at her to ram it into his face. With two hands grasping the bar, she lunged
forward and completely missed her target. I screamed at her to try again. Not
only did she break his nose with her second swipe, but a third blow landed
squarely to the side of his head, rendering the man unconscious.
Sliding backward through the
window opening, the assailant caught his head on some glass protruding from the
side frame. Two large fragments were catastrophic in punishment, carving their
passage upon his skull as he slowly descended into a collapsed heap through the
opening.
We had managed to escape again
but this was no time to wait around for another onslaught. We had to move
quickly, and now. With a turn of the ignition the motor responded. I placed the
gear lever in reverse, and gave myself room to go around the 4WD.
‘Hold on!’ I roared.
In my rush to escape the carnage
the engine accelerated to four or five thousand revs, creating one hell of a
noise and leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke. I tore down this stretch of
road, constantly looking across at the mirror. We were into our third block
past the first intersection and no sign of life from behind. I tried to remain
calm and focused. The night air rushing in where windows once served was
incredibly cold. The women huddled together to gain some warmth, but it was all
in vain since the draught had turned the car’s interior into something
reminiscent of a wind tunnel. I felt for my two companions, thinking that no
person deserved the trauma we’d just been through. These guys must be desperate
to silence Brigit, I thought. I wondered if they ever accepted defeat. A minute
had passed and still no 4WD in pursuit. I was now confident the worst had
passed.
‘Did either of you recognise
those men?’ I called over the wind in the car.
‘No,’ Helen shouted back and
added, ‘I didn’t think to get their number plate.’
‘They were trying to drag us from
the car!’ Brigit snapped. ‘Number plates were the last damn thing on my mind!’
‘Tom, would you take us to the
police station now. This matter has gone way beyond a joke,’ insisted Helen.
‘Certainly. I’m low on fuel
anyway and the service stations are probably all closed at this hour. We’ll run
out of petrol if we keep travelling around. There’s probably no more than ten
kilometres left in the tank.’
As anticipated,
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