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Chase shook her head. “Well, did they say how long it would be here?”

“When can you ever get a straight answer out of people? Take doctors for example.” He grinned, his teeth ominously white in the glow of the moon.

Chase forced a smile. “How long have you lived here?”

“I was born here. Studied away, and then returned to open the surgery. Not a very exciting locale, but it has its moments. I couldn’t stand living in a city for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t you get bored?”

“I don’t have time to get bored. There’s always something to do, that’s the beauty of my job. Even when I’m not in the surgery, people approach me for advice with their ailments. Not that I mind. You have to expect it in a small, close knit community like this.”

They walked in silence for a while. Although Chase felt comfortable with Adam, she was still on a learning curve, testing boundaries and gauging his character.

“Why do you think my friend would leave without telling me?” Chase asked, eventually breaking the silence. She still couldn’t accept that Jane had just left.

“I couldn’t really say. Ah, here we are, home sweet home.”

Chase was going to invite him in for a drink – there were so many things she wanted to ask – but Adam was already turning away.

“Have to rush. Just make last orders. See you on Monday. Don’t worry about an appointment. I’m sure I can squeeze you in. I’ll tell my receptionist to expect you.”

She watched him walk down the path and onto the lane, leaving her in the ominous shadow of the house on Slaughter Hill.

CHAPTER 8

“How could we have got so lost?”
Izzy
wailed.

Ratty was just able to make her out in the fog, her dishevelled appearance making her appear vulnerable. He knew she was looking to him for answers, but he didn’t have any. He silently cursed his lack of insight. This was his chance to impress her, but he was as lost and baffled as she was.

“People will be searching for us by now.
Smitty
and the others will have told them what happened. They will have search parties. Perhaps we should just stay where we are so they can find us?”
Izzy
said, lighting another cigarette.

Ratty didn’t reply. He didn’t think their friends would have told anyone what had happened, because then they would have to admit where they had been, and then they would be in trouble. No, they wouldn’t do that. There was a great divide between teenagers and adults, and when you overstepped the line, shit happened. Ratty knew they wouldn’t cross the line, not when their own skins were at stake.

For the last few hours, they had been following a large metal pipe through the fog, but when it suddenly passed through a wire fence, they lost their arterial lifeline. The fence was about seven feet high, and topped with barbed wire, so they couldn’t climb it.
 

“Now what?”
Izzy
said, exasperated.

“Well, we’ll have to follow the fence. Come on, let’s go.” Ratty sounded braver than he felt. The fence was another part of the mystery. Was it to keep something in, or something out? Pulling
Izzy
after him, he decided to go left.

The humming sound he’d heard during the night was now discernible again, a steady, throbbing buzz like an angry swarm of wasps hovering in the fog, waiting to strike. The thought made him apprehensive; perhaps
Izzy
was right and they should just stay where they were. Perhaps by walking deeper into the fog, they were only making things worse, getting more and more lost and making it harder for anyone to find them. But then he remembered the men with guns. No. It was up to them to get out by themselves. He didn’t want those men to find them, because he felt that if they did, something bad would happen.

The ground underfoot was becoming boggy and they squelched through mud. Ratty almost lost his trainer as his foot sank into the quagmire; for a moment it seemed as though the ground didn’t want to let him go, as though it was conspiring against him and it blew a malodorous raspberry as he tugged his foot out.

“Great idea to come this way,”
Izzy
whispered. “I knew we should have stayed where we were.”

Ratty didn’t know whether she was squeezing his hand so tightly because she was angry or because she didn’t want to lose him, but he didn’t mind either way. Just having her close was more than he could hope for. They had been friends since infant school, but it was only recently that
Ratty’s
feelings had changed. He now wanted to be more than just friends, and although he got the feeling that
Izzy
felt the same, he was nervous about testing his theory. If he was wrong, he would die of embarrassment. He’d had opportunity to kiss her a couple of weeks ago, but he had chickened out at the last minute. Everything had been perfect. They had been in the cinema, and
Izzy
had looked gorgeous. She had been wearing a mini-skirt and a cropped T-shirt with the message
Living Doll
printed on it that displayed her growing charms to the full, and just looking at her made Ratty ache. Fortune had it that they were seated next to each other, and out of the corner of his eye he had noticed her keep looking at him while the film was playing. Once he turned to look back at her and she had smiled and leaned closer, her lips shiny with lip-gloss. His heart had started beating faster, his eyes drifting to the swell of her chest and he blushed and turned away. And that had been that.
Opportunity
had knocked, and he had stupidly ignored it. Idiot!

 
He wondered whether the opportunity would present itself again. And if it did, would he be brave enough to accept?

The fence ran straight, making it easy to follow. Even the ground became solid again which made the going easier and Ratty felt a glimmer of hope.

And then he heard the voices, indistinct at first as the fog muffled them.

Although he didn’t know why, Ratty felt scared. He dropped to the ground, pulling
Izzy
down with him. She scowled and opened her mouth to protest, but Ratty gagged her with his hand.

Putting a finger to his lips to indicate silence, he motioned toward a hedge a few feet away.
Izzy
frowned but followed as he crawled toward the foliage. Overhead, the branches of a skeletal tree reached out of the fog like claws.

A sudden breeze thinned the fog a little and Ratty could make out a road, leading to what appeared to be a security checkpoint in the barbed wire fence. A barrier barred the entrance and what looked like a jeep was parked at the side of the road. The voices were coming from inside a security hut, but they were still too vague to interpret. Before the swirling fog enveloped it, a faded sign at the side of the road said:
Paradise
4 miles
.

Ratty recognised the sign. He used to see it when he visited his granddad. The road was the only way in and out of
Paradise
.

“
Izzy
, if you follow that road, you can get home,” Ratty said, pointing away from the barrier.

“
We
can get home, you mean.”

Ratty shook his head. “I’m not coming with you. My granddad lives in
Paradise
. I haven’t seen him for almost two years. I want to know what’s going on.” He remembered the men in the farmhouse being called away to a disturbance in the village and a knot of fear pulled tight in his stomach. Something definitely wasn’t right.

“But you can’t. Look, come with me and we’ll get help, tell someone.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Don’t be stupid, Ratty. They’ve got guns.”

Ratty gritted his teeth. “My dad’s doped up because of this. I want to know why. There’s something going on, and I want to know what.”

“But you’re just a kid.”

Ratty didn’t let her see how much that hurt him. Is that all she saw him as? Now he was even more determined. “
Izzy
, just go.”

“I can’t. Not on my own.” He heard the fear in her voice as her words trailed off.

Looking at her, he felt his determination waver for a moment as tears sparkled in her eyes.

“
Izzy
, I need you to go and fetch help. Please. Keep to the side of the road. If anyone comes, hide. If you hear anything, hide.” He squeezed her hand (wanted to hug her, but thought better of it), smiled and began to crawl toward the barrier. He wanted to look over his shoulder, but he knew that if he saw her looking lost and forlorn, he wouldn’t be able to leave her.

The voices grew louder as he approached the barrier. He kept his eyes peeled, alert, his muscles tensed for fight or flight. Something pierced his elbow and he almost screamed, grimacing as he pulled out a long thorn. His eyes watered and he gritted his teeth before creeping onto the concrete road. The fog shrouded him; in normal circumstances he knew it would conceal him, but these weren’t normal circumstances and he knew they had devices that pierced the fog. Are they watching me now? He shuddered at the thought.

The barrier was about three feet away when he heard the door to the security hut open; lights chased the darkness and someone stepped outside.

Ratty held his breath. The light glared off the fog, dazzling him as he tried to melt into the road. The person that stepped from the hut was momentarily visible as an amorphous mass walking toward him. Illuminated by the light, the fog swirled and eddied, making visibility difficult.

Ratty held his breath, trying to remain as still as possible. The figure was only feet away, blanketed in a thick swirl of fog. The staccato rhythm of footfalls on the tarmac drew closer ... closer. He wanted to stand up and run, but fear rooted him. He gulped in a lungful of air as silently as possible; held his breath. His head spun and myriad images flashed before his eyes like binary code. But this was no game.

He heard the serrated rasp of metal on metal, followed by the pitter-patter of liquid splashing near his face. The caustic smell of urine filled the air and he realised the figure had come outside to relieve himself. He pulled a disgusted face; hoped none of the splashes hit him. After a moment, the figure sighed, zipped himself back up and walked away, hidden in the fog. The door opened, closed and the light went off, leaving darkness in its wake. Ratty looked back toward
Izzy
, waiting for a break in the fog and his night sight to return. When the gap came, he saw she was gone and he was alone.

There was no turning back now.

Steeling himself, he crawled toward the barrier.

CHAPTER 9

The house felt cold and empty without Jane. Even after Chase successfully lit a fire, the cold remained. Daylight streamed through the windows, highlighting motes of dust in the air as she busied herself with cleaning. When she opened the living room door, the smoke from the fire was sucked back into the room, causing her to cough. She flapped her arms around to clear the air and cursed the fire, cursed the house, cursed Moon and cursed the competition she couldn’t remember entering.

The cup of tea she made to calm herself left a bitter taste in her mouth. When she had finished, it weighed heavy on her bladder and she had to use the toilet.

She had planned to phone Jane when she woke up, but there was still no signal available and she made a mental note to find a payphone.

It was only now she was by herself that she noticed there was no television in the house. The last time she had spent any considerable time without a television was when she was on holiday in
Ibiza
, but she hadn’t needed one then – she’d been too busy partying. Now she hadn’t got one, she missed it. The television was like a familiar friend when in a strange place. Turn it on and there was always someone there you knew: the cast of Coronation Street,
Eastenders
,
Hollyoaks
, they were people you invited into your house, a make-believe family, but now she hadn’t even got that. What was she doing here, in this strange place where she didn’t know anyone?