Illusion?

The carriage gently sways as the horses trot along the wet cobblestone streets. Rain drops streak across the glass window pane in the door. It's dark now and businessmen are leaving work, in a hurry. Warren can only make out flashes of umbrellas passing under lamps. The wet material shines like obsidian.
The day had not gone to plan at all. Warren was still undecided about the bully Ó Seachnasaigh dying and whether anything could really be done. How could he have explained what was wrong to Dr. Duchamp? An alien parasite sir...I have this friend...no, I am not a lunatic. 
Warren would be dead now if Jack hadn't taken the chance and great risk to save him. Why did he, really? They were total strangers, yet Jack waited, watched, and obtained information, illegally, just to try and save me. Warren's mind was swimming in questions. Nothing is making sense anymore.
There was a thunderous crack and a strange flash of light...as if waking from a dream, Warren opened his eyes; when did I close them? He felt a little disorientated and tried to focus in the darkness. Realizing the cab had stopped, he went to grab the door handle to get out, just then a hand grabbed his...No! don't open the door, the voice said. With a start, Warren jerked his head and saw a dark figure seated across from him. A small flicker of light glowed from the end of a stick (flashlight) and illuminated the face of Jack for an instant and then it clicked off.
How...when did you...I don't understand...Jack interrupts the broken speech of his bewildered friend. In a low, direct tone he says, We must go now!
Jack gives instructions to the driver and the carriage is on the move again, only much faster than before. Warren sits silently as they race through the streets to an unknown destination. Jack's lips were moving, but Warren couldn't hear the words...Can this be real?