I exhaled, hearing my breath whistle over my lips and the rain renewed its assault, drumming against the roof of the car, like bullets hitting chrome. Soon, Garrick's car came to a stop and we pulled up just behind, sending splashes of water spewing up onto the pavement. Stepping out of the car and flinching as the rain hit my skin, I put my head down and followed the others through a darkened archway tattooed with lewd graffiti and Banksy wannabes. Litter gathered in corners and I could smell the muted stench of rotten vegetables and the remnants of old takeaway cartons mixed together with strong acrid urine and the odd waft of blood. We soon reached the battered shutters of a warehouse that looked as if it had been the victim of many attempted break ins; ripples in the base of the corrug
