'A wild dog,' Tom suggested, not believing it for a minute.
'Sat up with my gun last night. Never saw a damn thing. Found what was left of the carcasses at first light.'
Tom nodded. 'I can see that would be a problem. And you thought the culprit had come knocking at the door?'
McKendrick ignored him. Anna stepped in. 'Have you eaten? I could do you some bacon sandwiches?'
They both agreed this would be a good idea. While McKendrick pulled back the curtains to peer outside, Tom disappeared to use the toilet. Once Veitch heard the spattle of hot oil and smelled the first singe of the bacon he followed Anna into the small kitchen, which was barely big enough for the two of them.
She smiled when he entered and asked him to slice the bread. 'You'll have to excuse Dad. He's been under a lot of pressure. You don't make any money with a croft at the best of times, and the last few years certainly haven't been the best of times. He cannae afford to lose sheep at this rate.'
'You help him out here?'
'Don't look so surprised!' She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. 'My mum died earlier this year. It was a shock to us all, but Dad took it really hard. Went to pieces, really. I was living down in Glasgow, having the time of my life, but I jacked it all in to come back here and get him back on his feet.'
Veitch took the spatula from her hand and turned the bacon, but he couldn't take his eyes from her face. Her own eyes matched his, move for move. 'That was good of you.'
'Don't make me out to be a saint. Anybody would have done it for family. But no good deed goes unpunished, right? Now he doesn't want me stuck in a miserable life like crofting miles away from anything anybody could call society, and he doesn't want to lose me and be on his own either. So we sit here every night stewing in our juices.'
'Must be pretty hard.'
She shrugged. 'So what about you? You don't look the kind to be hillwalking in these times.' She looked him in the eye. 'Nobody would be up here alone at night in the Troubles. Unless they had a very good reason.'
'I have a very good reason.'
'Tell me about it, then.'
'I'm a big bleedin' hero trying to save the world from disaster.'
Her eyes ranged over his deadpan face as she tried to pick the truth from his comment. Eventually she held his gaze, while a smile crept across her lips, and then she turned back to the cooker. But she never told him what she thought.
They ate the sandwiches in front of the fire. McKendrick thawed a little and even offered around a shot of malt which looked, from its unlabelled bottle, as if it had been distilled locally. Veitch still couldn't take his eyes off Anna. He didn't know if it was because she reminded him of Ruth or because of some other attraction, and that thought filled him with guilt about how fickle he really was. For her part, Anna seemed truly taken by him. While Tom and her father talked in quiet, serious tones by the fire, the two of them sat in creaking, threadbare armchairs in one corner, their lighthearted conversation punctuated with humour.
But at one point Veitch looked up and found McKendrick watching him with a cold annoyance bordering on anger. Veitch knew why, didn't care; life was too short.
They were disturbed shortly after midnight by a wild commotion outside: the undeniable sound of sheep in torment, deep rumbling from some unrecognisable animal throat that turned into a guttural roar. Veitch was the first to the window, but the light inside made it impossible to see more than a few feet. McKendrick had his gun and hovered hesitantly at the door, but Veitch was by his side before he had his fingers on the handle.
'Let me go first, all right?' The crossbow was in his hand as he slipped out into the chill night. He regretted it instantly. Even outside it was impossible to see much beyond the small circle of illumination from the croft's windows; he could almost feel the darkness pressing hard against him. He had advanced to the edge of the light before McKendrick came out with a powerful torch. He had never heard the noise the sheep were making before; it was frenzied and high-pitched and at times almost sounded like the shriek of a woman.
'Quick! Over there!' He pointed redundantly in the direction of the noise.
The determination in McKendrick's face didn't quite mask the underlying fear as he swung the torch round wildly. It flashed over undulating grass, the ghostly grey shapes of fleeing sheep, past something that was just a glimmer, but a splash of colour and a jarring shape that shouldn't be caught Veitch's eye. 'Back! Back!' he yelled.
McKendrick retraced the arc. They caught a glimpse of a low shadow that moved away like lightning. Left behind was the carcass of a sheep, gleaming slickly, the white bones protruding like enormous teeth. It had been so torn to pieces they had trouble recognising which part was which.
'Holy Mary, Mother of God!' McKendrick hissed. 'It is a dog!' He nestled the barrel of his gun over his forearm while still trying to manipulate the torch.
'Careful,' Witch said. 'It might be rabid.'
The white light washed over more grass, its movement jerky with McKendrick's anxiety, so at times it looked like they were glimpsing images illuminated by a strobe: a rock that made them all start; a sheep running in their direction. The carcass again. The wind had whipped up and was moaning across the high land, scudding the clouds across the moon and stars so it became darker than ever. And against it all was the sound of the sheep's hooves constantly driving across the grass, disorienting them so it was impossible to tell where the dog was.
McKendrick gritted his teeth in frustration. 'Stay behind me. If I see it I'm just going to let rip with both barrels. Might scare it-'
They had heard tell of animal sounds that could chill the blood; McKendrick had thought it poetic license, but when the howling rose up, at first low and mournful but then higher and more intense, they felt ice water wash through them. The primal sound triggered some long-dormant race warning that was so overpowering that their instinct rose to the fore and instantly drove them towards the house.
Just as their backs were at the door, McKendrick's final sweep with the torch locked on to a prowling shape, so fleeting they caught only a glimpse of golden eyes glowing spectrally in the light. McKendrick fired instantly, but they didn't wait to see the result. They slipped through the door and locked it firmly behind them.
'I think I got it,' McKendrick said breathlessly with his back pressed hard against the door. 'Winged it, at least.'
Veitch wasn't so sure. Anna and Tom waited anxiously in the centre of the room; it was apparent from their faces they had been as disturbed by the howling. McKendrick and Veitch looked at each other, but it was the older man who finally gave voice to what they were both thinking.
'It was a wolf, I'm sure of it.'
Anna shook her head furiously. 'You're Joking! There haven't been wolves here for centuries.'
'But this was once their homeland,' Tom mused. 'Perhaps they've returned.'
'With the forests,' Veitch added.
'How?' Anna asked. 'That's crazy!'
McKendrick went to the window and peered out cautiously. 'Crazy things are happening all the time these days,' he mumbled.
'Are you sure it was a wolf?' Tom said pointedly. 'Not a man?'
Veitch knew what he was implying. 'Bit bigger than normal, but nothing out of the ordinary.'
Anna looked at them both curiously, but said nothing.
'If you did hit it, we might be able to track it at first light. Follow the blood,' Veitch said confidently. 'It would be easier if we could see the bleedin' thing. We don't stand a chance out there in the dark.'
This seemed like the most sensible course of action, so while Anna retired to the kitchen to make a pot of tea, the men sat by the fire, slowly feeling their heartbeats return to normal.
McKendrick retired an hour later, and while Tom dozed fitfully in a chair in front of the fire, Veitch attempted to make up a bed on the floor in one corner. Anna helped him, talking animatedly in a hushed voice.
'Sorry if I'm rattling on,' she said with a giggle. 'It seems like ages since I've had a body to talk to. Apart from my da', that is.'
Veitch lay back on the collection of cushions with his arms behind his head. 'He seems like he's got it pretty much together now. He's a tough bloke. Bit of a no-nonsense life he's got going up here. Maybe it's time to get back to your life.'
