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your imagination,” another man replied. Their voices were faint, muffled.
    Ratty shuddered and peered into the fog.
    He heard the voices again, drawing closer, louder.
    “Remind me later to check on the generator. Damn things been wheezing like a whore,” the brusque voice said.
    “Since when do you know what a whore sounds like? You’re too ugly to even pay for it.”
    “Fuck you, Davis. I’m God’s gift, the ladies just don’t realise.”
    “Even the fuckin ’ tide wouldn’t take you out.” The men laughed.
    The footsteps were getting louder, drawing closer. Ratty felt his mouth go dry, but he couldn’t swallow. Knowing that he was trespassing made him tremble; fear squeezed his heart with bony fingers and his penis shrank.
    “There, look, movement,” the brusque speaker said.
    “Got it.”
    Ratty held his breath. Had they been seen?
    He heard a metallic click; the sudden retort of a rifle made his heart stop and he flinched. A dark, indistinct shape flew out of the fog toward him, twisting and somersaulting like a grotesque Catherine wheel emitting dark sparks. Ratty almost squealed; he wanted to run, but Izzy held him back as the indistinct shape flopped beside them, landing with a wet splash in the ditch.
    Ratty braced himself and looked down to find it was a fox, its tongue lolling from a bloodied maw and a small hole punched in the side of its skull where the bullet had entered. He felt slightly sick.
    “It was only a fox,” one of the voices said. “Come on, let’s head back to base.”
    Ratty peeked over the edge of the ditch. Through the mist, he could just make out two figures wearing white fatigues that blended into their surroundings like chameleons, ghosts in the fog. Luckily they were facing each other, their features masked by a device that resembled binoculars.
    He quickly ducked back down before they spotted him.  
    When he was sure the men had moved out of earshot, he said, “Did you see them?” He turned to look at Izzy , but she was staring open-mouthed at the dead fox.
    “ Izzy , are you okay?”
    “They shot it.”
    Ratty hesitated; then put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay.”
    “It’s not okay.” She shrugged his arm away. “What if they had seen us, they might have shot us, too.”
    Ratty didn’t think they would, but he couldn’t be sure. “I think they might have been using some sort of thermal imaging device. As we’re lying in water, it might have cooled us down enough that we didn’t register.” He wasn’t really sure what was going on, but he wanted to make it sound as though he was to mask his own fear.
    “And why would they do that? What were they looking for?” The fear was evident in her voice.
    “I don’t have a clue.”
    “Clueless as well as stupid.”
    Trying to keep the disappointment and hurt out of his voice, Ratty said, “Come on, we’d better get out of here before we freeze to death.” He helped Izzy out of the ditch. “I just hope they don’t have scent detectors, because we stink.”
    “That’s not funny, Ratty. There’s something strange going on here. I think we’re in real trouble.” She shrugged his helping hand away.
    I know, Ratty thought, not just shaking from the cold as they clambered back onto the tarmac road and began walking.
     
    ***
     
    Chase wandered from room to room, getting the feel of her new house. Now she was alone with Jane, she felt more at ease. The villagers hadn’t been openly hostile or ignorant, but she had felt uneasy in their presence, especially the man with the knife. She had spoken to a couple of people and they had welcomed her to the village, but their words seemed hollow, lacking real emotion. After a couple of drinks she had excused herself and returned to the house. Jane had pocketed a couple of bottles of wine and a few nibbles, which they consumed in the back garden, enjoying the last rays of the sun as it set behind the hill.
    “So what do you think of the locals?” Chase