Anita dropped to her knees and vomited.
Lisa looked down at herself. Her denim jacket had protected her. She was filthy and smeared with blood, but the fabric of both her dress and jacket was intact. She was shocked and winded, but she wasn't injured. She sank to the ground shaking uncontrollably.
The light was fading by the time they recovered and searched the cab. As Craig continued to scrabble in the doorway outside, Anita salvaged a crowbar and a large heavy spanner from a toolbox under the console, and Lisa found a screwdriver in a wall cabinet. Anita gave Lisa the hammer and handed the screwdriver to Brian with a sneer. He looked at it curiously, then, as she went to snatch it back, tucked it into his pocket.
They half slid; half stumbled down the embankment. It was steep and thick with shrubbery. Once they were all at the bottom, they started walking briskly towards the farm.
It was getting dark. They couldn't waste another second. They had to get there.
The women broke into a light jog.
Brian hurried behind them.
Chapter 2 - Day 1 - Wolston near Coventry
They reached the farm as dusk gave way to darkness. It had been a tense walk. They didn't talk much, each lost in their own thoughts about what had happened and what they would find out when they reached their destination. It had taken about half an hour. They could have been quicker, but for a huffing and puffing Brian stumbling along behind them and stopping from time to time, bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Lisa was grateful that the dress code for her meeting had been business casual. She was wearing a loose-fitting short dress, a denim jacket, and comfortable flat pumps. She would have struggled if she'd been in her usual business attire of a tight-fitting suit and heels.
The tension had eased a little, the further they got from the train. It felt good to be moving purposefully towards the farm, and there was even a growing sense of relief that their ordeal would soon be over. Out in the fresh air, surrounded by normal sights and sounds, what had happened over the last few hours began to feel like a bad dream. Lisa even noticed that it was a lovely late autumn evening. It was warm and the setting sun cast a red glow across the horizon.
Her thoughts drifted back to Neil. He should be back at his hotel by now. She pictured herself standing in the cosy farmhouse kitchen, calling him on the phone. Breaking down. Telling him what had happened. Heard him comforting her, telling her it was going to be alright; he was coming to get her.
But, all feelings of relief and hope that had begun to surface gradually dissipated as they got closer to the farm. Nobody vocalised it but they all felt it. Even though it was now almost completely dark, there were no lights coming from any of the buildings. They could make out a large barn on the left, and a sprawling farmhouse on the right. The buildings were connected by some outbuildings and open stables, all of which faced into a large, cobbled courtyard, bordered by a low wall. They headed for an open gate in the centre of the wall.
Unconsciously, they'd slowed down, and walked towards the gate with some trepidation. As they approached, a dog began to bark, which was strangely reassuring and alarming at the same time. The large dog suddenly bounded out from behind a building, barking loudly, warning them to stay away. It stopped in the open gateway growling menacingly. In the dark they couldn't see it clearly but could sense that it was bristling with aggression. They stopped.
"Man, I hate dogs," Anita grumbled.
"Me too," Lisa agreed. "What do we do now?"
Brian stepped forward.
"What are you doing?" Lisa grabbed his arm. "Be careful."
Brian turned to her. "Don't worry".
The women watched in amazement as Brian confidently stepped forward and, when he was about four or five metres from the dog, dropped onto one knee and held his hand out.
"Here, boy. Come here, boy. There's a good boy."
Astonishingly, the dog stopped growling and padded over to Brian who ruffled its fur and rewarded it with a series of rubs, pats and kind words. It began panting and whimpering.
"He's just upset and frightened," Brian said.
"What of?" Lisa and Anita spoke in unison.
They walked warily towards the farmhouse accompanied by the dog. It stayed close to Brian, growling quietly as they neared the building. The two-storey house was in darkness, but the front door was ajar. To the right of the door was another small building: a lean-to that was attached to the main house but with its own separate door, also ajar.
They approached the farmhouse. The dog's growling intensified. They huddled together, pausing after every step, gripping their makeshift weapons tightly, raised and ready to strike. Even Brian had his screwdriver clenched in his hand.
There were noises coming from the lean-to: wet guttural noises that were now horribly familiar. They looked at each other. Anita signalled to back off.
The dog rushed forward to the door and started barking again. There was movement from inside. They froze. The door burst open and a figure staggered into the courtyard.
Lisa recognised him immediately. His image was
