Chapter 4. A change of Pace

Oliver felt uneasy at dinner as his uncle usually so kind hearted and cheerful wax grouchy, and silent. All throughout dinner Mr Brownlow did not say a word not even asking for a any second helping. When it was bedtime Oliver kissed his uncle good night and went up to his bedroom worried about his uncle. His uncle always came up with Oliver and sometimes read him s story but tonight Mr Brownlow nearly said goodnight. Very worrying indeed. However, Oliver heart lifted when he remembered about Dodger coming.

That night a man walked through the London fog. He was a strange, mysterious looking man, a grey trilby on top of his head, his face completely concealed by a white cloth, meaning that there only part of his head one could see were his eyes. everything he wore was grey or white, his jumper, the shirt underneath, his shoes and a long grey coat trailed about him. He held a bag carrying a camera. In the day he worked as a photographer, which paid rather well because the 'magic' of photos was still a novelty which many admired. However, at night his art with a camera took on a more sinister purpose. The strange man tended to stay in cities to do his night-time work as the fog as he was able to blend in with the fog at night so no one ever noticed that he was there. Extremely important in his line of work to go about unnoticed. No one could report a sighting of a man concealed in cloth to the police. The police weren't able to link his presence to a murder case. He remained out of jail and his clients remained happy with his work and recommend him to other people desiring a death to happen. He had just that week been hired on Monday to cause a death. The person who hired him did not seem like a individual who would have a particular desire for a privileged, child to die. Would perhaps like the idea of an upper-class child to die because of a jealousy of their wealthy life but not enough to hire a assassin to do it. He had been given the address and a description of the boy's appearance, he had also been told that the child called Oliver will leave his window open. Once he found the child, he would take a photo, this would be left for the police to find. Photo's before a person's death were his signature. Then he was intending to ring the door, the maid would let him in, he would let the maid shut the door and take his coat, and hang it up, after the maid had led him to a chair to wait for her 'master' and just as she was going to inform her master of a visitor he would stab her in the back with his long, sharp cruel dagger, she would give a loud, painful scream then die. Mr Brownlow would come down the stairs to see what the scream was about then the assassin would draw out his gun and shoot Mr Brownlow, then stab him if necessary for guns cannot be reliable for accuracy. it would not matter much if he died then or not of cause. The assassin would then find the boy, Oliver who would probably have hidden as soon as he heard the blast of the gun and kill him. Strangling the boy would be best probably or Suffocation either way would do, just as long as the assassin saw the child struggle. He enjoyed killing children, such weak, feeble and defenceless creatures. After the child dies he would take a photograph partly as evidence of his job for his employer but also for himself as a memento.

Everyone was very excited about this new deal. Dodger wondered that he might never be able to slip out with all the others gossiping about what the new business was. One thought was illegally smuggled in tigers, but that was dismissed as it seemed unlikely that even Fagin would be able to find the right sort of people who could afford a tiger. Only rich people got tigers. Finally, everyone became so tired they went to sleep. Dodger slipped out of bed and tip toed outside. Hoping no one saw him, not even Fagin who has become unpredictable. Walking through the fog of London which was still very much alive with the bustle of city life. There were still stalls up trying to sell stuff. People . Dodger ambled over to Oliver's window then his spine tingled with fear, for there was a man with a camera, who was taking a photo of Oliver who was reading in bed. Dodger had heard lots of stories in newspapers and rumours going around of the 'photographic killer' who when he kills someone always leaves a photo of his victim. Some say that the 'photographic killer' is a escaped inmate of a mental institute, another rumour is that he's a photographer who works for a newspaper and kills so he continues to get paid for all the photos he takes, the most popular one at the moment is that he's a phantom who preys on the sinful. There was a click as the photographer clicked a switch on the camera then there was a blinding white flash. The photographer clicked another switch and a blank photograph slide out onto the floor. The photographer ignored the photograph and started walking around the house. Dodger decided to follow him. The photographer went to the front door of the mansion. Maybe the photographer wasn't the photographic killer after all Dodger thought. Maybe the bloke was just taking Oliver's picture because he had asked him to. Dodger thought this was unlikely but not impossible you never knew with rich folks. Probably Oliver wouldn't have asked for it but the old guy might have wanted a photo done of Oliver maybe a surprise for his birthday or something.

Dodger was just about to creep back to Oliver's room and hope that no one else was there when Dodger saw the bloke touch a object in his pocket. A object that looked suspiciously like a gun. He instinctively felt the urge to run for it, get away from harms way, get back to the safety of his home, back to Fagin. That was the code he had lived with since he was five, place yourself first think about others after you were safe, the only other people he should protect are his gang. Oliver wasn't part of the gang. He didn't matter. Oliver didn't abide by the code of thieves he was upper class, a well brought up young gentleman. But Dodger couldn't let the photographer killer murder his friend, he just couldn't, could he?. Everyone just protects themselves on the streets but Oliver and his new family wouldn't be able to defend themselves, but did that mean they deserve to die. As the photographic killer knocked on the front door for the 5th time dodger made his decision he couldn't let Oliver die. Dodger hurled himself against his opponent causing him to fall meaning he took his hand off his gun to put his hands out to prevent serious injury from the impact of the ground. Dodger made a dash for the gun grabbing it and running away faster than the man could stop him. Dodger remembered the photographic killer taking a picture of Oliver that surely meant that Oliver was his target. He ran to the window as quickly as he was able to and dropped the gun. Dodger climbed up to the room and jumped from the window ledge and dropped to the ground tired, hat tumbling off.

Oliver was very startled and confused. First there was his uncle being very sombre and quiet, then the blinding flash of white light as if from one of those cameras, the loud knocking on the door at this hour. And now Dodger comes jumping through the window after Oliver had been waiting ages for him, he had just at that moment made the decision that Dodger wasn't coming after all so he should go to bed. But now Dodger was laying on the floor breathing very heavily as if out of breath from lots of running. He also seemed very spooked, frightened and shocked. Oliver very concerned rushed over to Dodger and squeezed Dodger's hand as he thought that might reassure dodger or whatever was the matter. " whatever is the matter Dodger. You seem quite out of breath" there was no response dodger just lay there breathing. Oliver tried again "There was a bright white light earlier does that have something to do with what's troubling you Dodger". Dodger lay there breathing 4 more times then sat up looked at Oliver and gave him a reassuring smile or so Dodger hoped. Then he spoke " the 'photographic killer' is after you for real. Hoping to strangle you or somethin that's what he does to kids. He took ya photo Oliver that's means your his target. So's you need to hop it as if the trappers are after ya. Hang out with us for a while at least, that''ll keep ya safe for a little while. Might get bored of you eventually". Oliver stared at his friend puzzled. Was this a joke? If so it wasn't very funny, but he decided to laugh anyway as dodger might get offended otherwise. Dodger however was not joking " I ain't having a laugh or nuthin. I'm being real serious awright. Real serious. I saw the 'photographic killer' takin your photo as real as I'm sitting now as I come to your house. He's killed 12 times before and that's just how many the coppers know about. So you better come with me. If ya the target then he probly won't worry bout your family. Now come on"

dodger grabbed Oliver by the arm and dragged him to the window. Taking out the rope he had brought along with him (just in case) and tied it to the window latch, he tugged at it to make sure it was secure. Then he went to grab his hat and turned to Oliver. He thought he better try to reassure Oliver that there was nothing to be frightened of "right so I'll climb down this rope ere so I'll be down there to catch ya if you fall when you climb down yerself. See?" Oliver shook his head twice " no! Dodger I don't think I'll be safe. I've never climbed down a rope before. You're the same height as I am you won't be able to catch me if he slip" dodger grinned " oh yeah. Hadn't thought bout that. Oh well you'll be fine. By" he gave a little wave when he said by, then have another grin then was off down the rope. Dodger climbed down the rope slowly so it wouldn't break, the rope was quite old and he didn't check whether it was a tight enough knot he didn't want the rope to suddenly break. Oliver paced back and forth in his room, he didn't know whether he'd be able to climb the rope. he had never climbed a rope before what if he slipped and fell, he was rather high up it would probably be a fall to his death. Dodger had reached the bottom and was calling up to Oliver "c'mon your turn Oliver its nuthin to worry bout just slid down the rope, an your be down before ya know it. Easy is what it is. Nuthin to it Oliver, just keep ya hands on the rope and slide down" Oliver tentatively inched towards the window ever so slowly. Eventually he was there, he scrambled up onto the window ledge, took hold of the rope with two hands. Just as Oliver was about to climb down the door burst open and in came Mr Brownlow and Martha the maid. Mr Brownlow voice filled with concern asked "Oliver my dear child what is going on. We heard another boy shouting is something wrong. And why are you half hanging out of the window. You might fall and break something my child. Earlier we heard someone knocking at the door but when poor dear Martha went to answer it no one was there. Was it this friend of yours Oliver?" Oliver could only stammer "um. Well uncle it's a little difficult to explain. Well you see, um, but, well it's not like that. Dodger was just….um" just then Dodger called up again "c'mon Oliver. Just think of it like a game awright. The rules are keep yer hands on the rope and move down as slowly as you can. Awright?" Mr Brownlow looked even more worried than he already did "Oliver I want you know you don't have to obey this child. You can refuse if you want to. Don't be forced into anything you don't want to be" But Oliver had started climbing down already calling back "terribly sorry uncle. I can't explain right now. But I got to go with Dodger for your protection. He'll look after me. I love you terribly much uncle. By" Oliver gave a little wave then was climbing down.

Mr Brownlow reached out a hand to stop him and cried out "no don't go. Not yet. Explain a little first. we might come up with a better solution but Oliver was already out of reach and too absorbed in what he was doing to hear his uncles pleads. Oliver kept his eyes closed and always kept one hand on the rope, while the other hand moved down to join it, then so on and so forth. as well as placing his feet against the wall and moved them down as if he was just going for a nice merry stroll. Oliver grew to enjoy the sensation of walking on a wall. He felt almost as if he was a wizard who had cast some sort of levitation spell to allow him to walk on walls or had been sprinkled with fairy dust just like in 'Peter Pan' going on a wild, wondrous, impossible adventure. The feeling was good he could almost, though still just almost forget that at any second he could make a mistake and fall to his death. Oliver was beginning to think that he'd never reach ground level, perhaps just maybe he really had started to be able to fly like Peter Pan when out of nowhere a hand touched his back and Dodger's voice said "I think you'd best stop now mate or you'd get a nasty meetin with the ground. Now put one of your feet down slowly on the ground then the other" Oliver did as Dodger commanded and soon both his feet were safely on the ground. Mr Brownlow came running over to them and said in a commanding and severe voice "Now look here Oliver as you know I'm not a terribly strict guardian but I would rather you didn't go off at night with a mysterious boy I've never had the pleasure of meeting. You understand don't you. I have no way of knowing where you're going whether your safe. If you don't come back tomorrow, I'll have no way of knowing how to find you". Dodger spotted the photographic killer lurking in the shadows next to another house, he took that as their cue to get a move on. Dodger grabbed Oliver's arm and commanded "c'mon" then started dragging Oliver with him but Mr Bownlow grabbed Oliver's arm as well "oh no you don't Oliver stays here with me until you explain where you're taking him you little rascal". Dodger elbowed Mr Brownlow in the stomach causing him to let go of Oliver, Dodger muttered "sorry bout that didn't have much choice" then wasted no time in running away pulling Oliver along with him into the night in the opposite direction to the 'Photographic killer'. Mr Brownlow stumbled after them as well until 'the photographic killer' punched him causing him to collapse blacking out the last thing he saw was the photographic killer striding after the two-boy's starting the hunt.

The two-boy's ran for their life's, Dodger looked behind to see whether their stalker had given up, he hadn't, the killer was still coming after them, looking like he was part of the fog, like his body was made of fog. Body melded with the fog, the killer was striding slowly but purposely like he knew he would catch them eventually. Dodger said nothing, he just run faster. They run into a stream of people going about their night time activities. Oliver heard nightmarish deathly screams of fear and agony, he couldn't help but look behind to see what caused such sounds and saw the killer sliding daggers out of two women. The killer raised his arms out so Oliver could see two lethal looking daggers dripping with bright red blood. Oliver felt faint, he felt as if he would puke, collapse then puke some more then when all the puking to had had been done, he would close his eyes and never open them again. However, he couldn't do it because Dodger ever persistently dragged him after him. Oliver still in shock tried to make Dodger understand that they should just give up "Dodger. I…. I….. I saw the kill….. kill-er do something….. something terrible. Just….. just like Nancy. The killer he…." Oliver never finished because Dodger interrupted by snapping "Look don't look round again. That's just askin for trouble. There are some thing that no one ain't suppose to see. If we just keep runnin without looking behind us we should be fine" so they did. They kept running without looking behind even when there were more agonising screams of pain. A few bystanders called after them angrily, trying to grab them as if they thought they had caused the screams, Dodger was too quick for them. They just kept running. leaving the death behind them.

They came to a cross roads, the main street continued but there were two smaller side alleys one on the right and one on the left. Dodger risked a glance behind him, what he saw terrified him. Three men, two little girls younger than him and a woman's lifeless bodies lay on the floor blood spilling out of their bodies, gasps and screams pierced his ears. Their eyes turned to him filled with fear and horror they even started to plead with him "please don't to that do us. Here take all of what I own. I won't rat you out I swear it" though others fear had manifested into anger which they had to unleash "c'mon here you murderer. Servant of Satan. How dare you! You won't get away with this. You'll hang you will". Dodger's eyes teared up, his legs started shaking, from the horror of what he had heard and what he had just seen, actual death, not just one but six, deaths. He hadn't seen death before, at least not properly before, not death up close, not any that had affected him. Dodger couldn't stop his legs from shaking. He almost stayed to try to explain that he didn't kill all these people but then the killer emerged. Fog curling around him, detaching from his body, his body appearing like a wraith having been formed in the fog. The killer came closer, ever closer, death felt like he had touched Dodger's spine extremely gently like a casual warning that he was coming, feeling Dodger's soul, trying him out like a woman would with meat at the butchers. Dodger felt Oliver shaking with fear besides him, that shook Dodger back to his senses. The instinct to protect Oliver. Dodger run a little bit forwards until he saw all the tools he would need for his escape, Dodger was right next to a man and some crates, Oliver was near a apple stand, tended to by an old woman. Dodger indicated the apple stand to Oliver miming taking an apple, Oliver nodded he had gotten the message. Oliver darted forwards and grabbed an apple the old woman tried to grab him but was too late she started yelling "thieve, thieve" instead. People started to gather to catch the thieve, Dodger picked the pocket of the man, then when the man noticed, Dodger run quickly out of reach grabbing Oliver and kicked over some crates causing everyone to tumble over creating a handy and planned barrier between the killer and he and Oliver. Dodger and Oliver run quickly down the left side street.

The side street took them to a market centre and Oliver collapsed in exhaustion. Dodger sighed and pulled him up, getting Oliver to lean on him, he took them down s stairway to another tunnel which led to a back of a pub. where they would be out of the way of the bustle of people as it wasn't the front . It was unlikely many people Oliver lay down immediately, taking off his coat and propped it against the wall to use as a pillow, as exhausted as he was he still remembered to leave enough room for Dodger's head as well. Dodger lay down next to Oliver propping his own head against the makeshift pillow. He took off his coat and placed it on both of them as a blanket, which was big enough to cover both of them. Both boys nightmares that night, Oliver dreamed that he and Dodger kept running through a street but there was so much that he couldn't see anything, except when someone was stabbed in the neck by the killer. Then Mr Brownlow, Martha and Dodger were all strangled by the photographic killer. Dodger dreamt that he was stuck in the middle of a infinite fog then a image started to form in the fog it took humanoid shape then formed into his father who killed everyone he cared about, all the pickpockets, Oliver and then lastly Fagin. Fagin was making sausages for him soothing him saying " not your fault my dear. Not your fault at all your safe now I'll protect you we'll restart the pickpocket business all over again" then his father stabbed Fagin in the heart. His father's put his hand on his shoulder and his voice thundered "I will always be your father". Dodger sat with his father around the dinner table eating porridge as if nothing had happened.