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and Joel stayed in the hallway.
         The back door had been left open. It looked out on a small garden with an allotment lined with cabbages and rhubarb. A greenhouse with shelves of tomatoes growing.
         A clothesline with a few drying towels on it, and a basket of damp washing on the ground.
         There was a loud crashing-like sound from far away, echoing around the fields. Like a thunderclap.
         “What was that?” said Ralph.
         Frank tried to determine which direction it had come from. “It wasn’t thunder.”
         “Can we please leave now?” Joel asked them as they returned inside.
         Ralph and Frank exchanged a look.
         “Might as well head to the village,” said Frank. “We’ll find a phone that works, call the police, and tell them about the abandoned car.”
         “Then we can go home?” Joel said.
         “Yeah.”
         “Good. At last.”
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER NINE
     
     
    Two miles outside Wishford.
         Ralph was telling a dirty joke about nuns and an archbishop, when a horse ran onto the road from an adjacent field, tottering on weak legs.
         Frank saw the animal too late.
         The Corsa clipped the horse. Frank hit the brakes, but the car was already out of control. The tyres shrieked. The horse made a terrible sound. The car swerved off the road, shuddered along the embankment, too fast, and crashed into an oak tree. Hard impact. Scream of metal. The bonnet buckled and flew open. The seat belt cut into Frank’s chest and his neck twinged sharply as he was pitched forward. The airbag deployed and cushioned him.
         Frank slumped on his seat.
         Steam rose from the engine. The smell of petrol and burnt rubber.
         The car jolted to a stop. The engine died.
         Frank blinked. The inside of his head danced. Thumping heartbeat.
         Joel rubbed his face with one trembling hand. Ralph and Magnus moaned from the backseat. Luckily, they were all wearing seatbelts.
         Frank checked himself for injury. He moved his limbs, stretched his tendons and muscles. His chest was tight, so he used his inhaler and then took a deep breath of air.
         “Is everyone alright?” he said.
         Joel looked at him. Wide eyes and wet lips. He nodded at Frank but said nothing.
         “You two in the back okay?”
         Magnus gave a lethargic thumbs-up.
         “Yeah,” Ralph said. “Fucking hell. What the fuck was that?”
         “A horse,” Magnus said. “Did you see it? It was injured.”
         “It was all cut up,” said Frank.
     
    * * *
     
    The horse, a white mare, had collapsed on the road. The men stood around her. She was still alive. Her back legs were broken.
         Frank was gazing at the horse. “I’m sorry.”
         The others looked at him.
         “It’s not your fault,” said Magnus.
         “Look at her,” said Ralph. “Poor girl.”
         The mare was making a pathetic mewling sound. Her eyes were bulbous with pain and fear. She buckled and her front legs kicked. The men, apart from Ralph, stepped back.
         Something had torn at the horse’s left flank. Several deep cuts. Bones and flesh. Flaps of ragged skin. Blood on the road. The stench of shit and offal lingered in the air.
         “Something attacked it,” said Magnus.
         “I broke her legs,” said Frank.
         “It wasn’t your fault, Frank,” Magnus said. “Nothing you could have done about it.”
         “It’s like a wolf or a lion mauled it,” Joel said.
         Ralph gave a terse shake of his head. “Not in this country, mate.”
         “Might have escaped from a zoo.”
         “Shut up,” Frank said. “Both of you.”   
         “We should put her out of her misery,” said Ralph. “She’s lost too much blood. She’s suffering.”
         “You mean kill