Pulling a thick knot of matted hair out of her eyes, she staggered through the trees. How on earth was she ever going to explain what had happened the previous night to anyone? She still wasn’t sure why she, Nick and the others had been targeted. But at least now that it was daytime, she felt less scared. There was something about the sunshine that lifted her spirits.

The woods were empty and filled with the sound of birdsong. It was a real contrast to the previous night. No baying of hounds, or screams of dying friends. She thought about Tracy then. Poor, frightened Tracy caught in a metal trap and left to die alone.

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Ash told herself. ‘You did what you had to do.’

Even so, it didn’t make her feel any better.

The forest began to thin out, and the sunshine became brighter ahead. Ash sped up, telling herself that soon she’d be able to rest, that it wouldn’t be much longer before she found someone. Just one more big effort and this would all be over.

Suddenly the trees parted in front of her and she was standing on a narrow pot-holed road. On the other side was an overgrown field that stretched up towards another pine-covered hill.

She looked down, never so pleased to see tarmac in her life. It was a sign, however minor, of life – something she felt she’d left behind. It filled her with a renewed sense of hope.

She looked left and saw a stone cottage on the corner thirty metres away. Smoke rose from its chimney, and a battered old Land Rover sat on its dirt driveway.

A new emotion mixed with the hope, one she’d become used to in the last twelve hours. Fear. This could be where the men hunting her lived. They had to live somewhere, and it was likely to be close by. Had the girl, the one who’d caused them so much trouble, escaped from here? If she had, it would explain why they’d been so keen to silence Ash and the others, to prevent them from reporting what they’d seen to the police and leading them back here.

She took a deep breath, trying to work out what to do. The problem was she had no idea where she was. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her mobile, hoping for a reception, but it wouldn’t even turn on. The water had ruined it.

Standing in the road shivering, Ash felt utterly drained of energy. It could be miles to the next house, and she wasn’t at all sure how much longer she could keep going. She was sick. She was being hunted down. She needed help.

The front door to the cottage opened. Ash instinctively jumped out of sight behind a tree.

A well-built older lady with her silver hair in a bun stepped outside. She had a basket in her hands and was wearing a navy dress and an old-fashioned white pinafore. Even from a distance, Ash could see she had a kindly, round face.

But Ash had had her world torn apart these past few hours and the experience had made her very careful. The old lady hadn’t seen her so Ash waited and watched as she walked round the side of the cottage and passed out of sight, singing softly to herself as she went.

Keeping inside the treeline, Ash crept towards the cottage, stopping when she saw the old lady bent over, feeding half a dozen chickens in a coop. She was cooing at them in a lilting Scottish accent as she threw the feed, looking as if she hadn’t a care in the world. The sight of her made Ash’s eyes fill with tears.

Slowly, awkwardly, she stepped out from the trees. ‘Excuse me …’

The old lady jumped, then turned her way, putting a hand to her mouth, her bright blue eyes widening. ‘Gosh, my love. You scared me.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Ash took another unsteady step forward, trying to stop herself from breaking down. ‘I’ve been hurt.’ The tears were streaming down her face now.

The old lady opened her two beefy arms and Ash fell into them, sobbing into her shoulder, breathing in comforting smells of lavender and baking.

‘There there, my love,’ the old lady whispered into her ear, her grip surprisingly strong. ‘You’re going to catch a death of cold out here. Let’s get you inside, into the warm.’

The old lady put down her basket, ignoring the frantic clucking of the chickens, and led Ash into the cottage through a side door. Ash found herself in a surprisingly spacious, if tired-looking, kitchen.

‘You sit down there, young lady,’ she said, pointing at a wooden table with stools in one corner, ‘and I’ll get you a blanket.’

Ash leaned back against the stone wall, wrapping her arms round herself in an effort to stay warm. The kitchen was cluttered with pots and pans, cooking utensils and dog-eared recipe books, and there was a faint damp smell that was mixed with the smell of fresh bread. A tray containing a newly baked loaf sat on the ancient cooker. On the opposite wall, an equally old picture of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland grinned at her. Ash even managed a small grin in return. For the first time since this nightmare had begun, she found herself able to relax.

‘What happened to you, my love?’ asked the old lady, returning with a thick spotted blanket.

Ash saw no reason not to tell her the truth. Wrapping herself in the blanket, she gave her a brief description of the previous night’s events, starting from when they’d run into the girl. She kept the drama down to a minimum but told her that her husband and two friends had been killed.

The old lady looked shocked, which was no great surprise, and put a hand to her mouth. ‘And this all happened round here, you say? Here in these woods?’

Ash nodded numbly. ‘Yes.’

‘I’ve lived here all my life, my love, and I’ve never heard of anything like this. I don’t understand where this naked girl could have come from. There’s nothing here but national park and the shooting estate over near Wood End, but that’s owned by one of those banker types in London you never see. It all seems very strange. Men chasing this girl, then chasing you and your friends, trying to kill you. Whatever happened to the girl?’

‘I don’t know.’

The old lady was right. The whole thing was strange, like something out of a cheap horror film. For a moment, Ash wondered if she actually was going mad. But then she pulled herself together. It had happened. All of it. Just as she remembered.

‘I’m not lying, Mrs …’

‘Dora. Call me Dora.’ She smiled. ‘I’m not saying you are, my love. I can see you’ve had a terrible time of it.’

‘I need to call the police. My phone’s broken. Do you have a phone here?’

‘Course I do,’ said Dora with a laugh. ‘We might live out in the sticks, but we’re not in the nineteenth century.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,’ said Ash, wrapping herself even tighter in the blanket.

Dora put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘I know you didn’t, my love. Now you wait here while I call the police. Then I’ll come back and make you something to eat.’

Ash nodded. ‘Thank you.’

Dora left the room for a second time and Ash got to her feet, the effort making her wince. She could tell the old lady didn’t believe her story, but she wasn’t surprised. It was not an easy one to believe. Three murders, possibly four, as well as at least two killers, all in the same quiet forest in the middle of nowhere. Ash wouldn’t have believed it either. She’d think the person telling the story was high on some particularly intense drugs. But in the end it didn’t matter as long as she called the police. Then they could deal with it.

She could hear Dora’s voice in the next room talking on the phone and she walked slowly over to the door. As Ash stepped into the living room, Dora put the phone down and turned round. ‘They’re on their way, my love, but they won’t be here for a good twenty minutes. We’re a long way from the station here.’ She wiped her hands on her pinafore. ‘Let me make you some hot breakfast.’

The thought of food made Ash feel sick. ‘It’s all right, Dora,’ she said with a weak smile, ‘I’m really not hungry.’