He hadn't much time; they would catch up with him any moment. He had tricked them and escaped from that dreadful place they called a "Rest Home." He was determined not to go back.
Laboriously he lifted his left leg, swung it over the retaining rail. With the last ounce of energy in his 96-year-old body, he heaved himself up and over the rail and dropped down toward the river as the strident siren of his pursuers' vehicle sounded faintly in his ears.