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it in properly. Now a veil had been lifted. Everything had meaning and purpose, right down to the tiniest item. The individual hairs on the wolves, each needle on the trees' snow-bowed branches, the speckling of white on the alpha male's muzzle - nothing was there without a reason. Everything belonged. Even me and Abortion.
    I realised then that I was about to die. Why else this flooding of my brain, this overwhelming tide of sensory input, if it wasn't my final moment? A revelation at the very fag end of life. A brief, parting gift of insight to make up for three and a half decades of muddle and incomprehension.
    The alpha male lifted his head. He opened his maw. He let rip with an almighty howl, a great cascading, crescendoing ululation.
    To me, looking up from below at an acute angle, his jaws framed the moon and were gaping wide enough to swallow it, as though it was some sort of celestial dog biscuit. The optical illusion was perfect. All it would take was for those two sets of wickedly serrated teeth to snap shut and the moon would be gulped and gone and nights would be empty and black forever after.
    The howl was an instruction. An invitation.
    Thumb down from the emperor.
    The wolves around us padded out from the trees, into the glade.
    Time to die.

Four
     
    Not that I was prepared to go out meekly. Neither was Abortion.
    We tottered upright together. We were weaponless. We were shagged out. But we had our fists, our feet. Our teeth too, if need be. The army had spent time and money teaching us hand-to-hand combat. Not much use against wolves, perhaps, but better than nothing.
    Instinctively we positioned ourselves back to back, to cover each other. The wolves closed in, forming a tight ring around us. A couple were wagging their tails, others had their tongues lolling out, and I thought to myself, Tossers. This is all a bit of fun to you, isn't it? You big bunch of bullies .
    Righteous indignation gave me focus. And fire.
    "All right, Abortion," I said over my shoulder, "you take the dozen on the left, I'll handle the dozen on the right."
    "My left or your left?"
    "Does it matter?"
    "Fair point. What about the big bastard on the rock?"
    "Prize. For whoever finishes off their lot first."
    "Gotcha."
    "One thing, though. I can't quite figure it out. Is this situation something the universe wants for us or not?"
    "The universe," Abortion admitted, "is sometimes a bit of an arsehole."
    "That's what I thought. Consider me enlightened, O Master."
    "Better late than never."
    One wolf came at me. It was a feint. A quick nip at the air in front of my knee, then the wolf backed off.
    Another darted in from the side, and I turned and bellowed - "Yaahhh!" - which seemed to intimidate the thing. It retreated, curling its rump round.
    I should have known that I was just being set up. A third wolf darted in from behind and bit my leg. Fortunately its teeth latched onto my jeans, not the leg itself. The wolf bent its back and tugged, growling, and I swung round and gave it a thump on the snout. It yelped and let go.
    I heard Abortion shouting, "Go on, you fuckers, gerron out of it!" He was aiming kicks left, right and centre at the wolves. None of his shots actually connected but they were enough to see off his attackers and hold them at bay. For now.
    But the wolves were getting bolder by the second.
    Two sprang at me at once, and more by luck than anything I managed to grab one of them by the forelegs, mid-leap, and swing it like an Olympic hammer against the other. Both rolled in the snow in a heap, then disentangled themselves and started snarling and barking at each other.
    Before I could regain equilibrium another wolf leapt, crashing into me. Next thing I knew, I was on my back and staring up into the beast's face. Gust of foul breath. Glint of triumph in yellow eyes. Then the wolf lowered its head, teeth bared, lunging for the throat.
    How I got my arm in the way, I wasn't sure, but I did. Instead of soft, tender neck the