From the bottom of the embankment he can hardly see the jetty; tangible darkness seems to be emanating from the moonless, starless night.

Almost there

He breaks out into a wild sprint. Behind him the voices intensify—or is it the throbbing in his head worsening? His grasp of reality has been slipping every day, every hour, every minute, which is why he is running out of time.
He looks back once more and sees he is losing ground. A wave of panic washes over his body. If they catch him now—

better not to think about it.