Lisa has taken off her sling and seems to have regained some of her energy – or maybe Anna’s energy has run out, because now Lisa is the one pulling her along.

Her legs are getting heavier, the taste of blood is making her nauseous. Her lungs feel as if they’re about to explode. Lisa is doing her best, but they are still slowing down. The barking is no more than fifty metres away now, and the torchlight flickers between the tree trunks.

‘I can’t go any further,’ Anna gasps. ‘You go on – straight ahead!’ She waves her arm in the general direction of Änglaberga, suppressing a fresh wave of sickness.

‘No!’

Anna frees her hand from Lisa’s, then bends over and throws up. ‘Go, Lisa! I’ll delay them.’

She looks around for a weapon and finds a branch. It would be better if it were longer and thicker, but it will have to do. The hollow is between her and their pursuers, and with a bit of luck she should be able to send the dogs down into it.

Lisa hasn’t moved.

‘Go!’ Anna says. ‘I’ll be fine.’

She has just enough oxygen left to manage those four syllables. Her heart is pounding, the contents of her stomach are halfway up her throat. She turns her back on Lisa, holds the branch in front of her like a spear.

‘Go, Lisa!’

The torches are getting closer. She hears the rustle of leaves as Lisa begins to run, then she sees a black, four-legged silhouette among the trees in front of her, with another ten metres behind.

Too far to the left, she thinks as she realises that the dogs have gone around the hollow instead of down into it. The first dog has spotted her, and speeds up.

She pushes the hair off her forehead, wipes away dirt and water. Grips the branch with both hands again. Her heartbeat is thundering against her eardrums, the wind is howling through the treetops. The dog is coming straight at her. Ten metres, five.

She sees open jaws, ears pricked, a body gathering itself to attack. She raises the branch, tenses her whole body, ready for the pain.

She hears something between a roar and a bark from the left, and a white projectile comes flying through the trees. It strikes the German Shepherd in mid-leap with such force that the big dog is knocked over. The roar grows louder before being interrupted by the sound of jaws clamping together. It’s Milo. The little terrier has sunk his teeth into the back of the German Shepherd’s neck, and the two of them tumble down the slope into the hollow. The bigger dog is yelping, doing is best to twist around and get at Milo, but Milo has no intention of letting go.

The second German Shepherd arrives, but has no interest in her. Instead, it plunges down the slope to help its friend.