But the overhang of rock had worried him, for it was clear that someone – or something – had dislodged a tree root and the earth clinging to it. He’d spent a while searching for other tracks, but there were none, and he had to assume Danny had hidden the bike deliberately and tried to climb down the rock face. What could have made him do such a stupid thing baffled Django, for the boy was usually very aware of the dangers out here and knew his limitations.

Django was an old man, but he was light and nimble still, and he’d carefully begun to clamber down when he’d heard an unmistakable sibilant hiss and the dry rasp of snakeskin on rock.

He’d frozen, wide-eyed and terrified, as the king brown slithered out of the hole in the dirt and slowly meandered away from him. One bite and he would be dead within a heartbeat.

He’d waited until the snake was out of sight, praying to the Ancestor Spirits that the creature had brought no harm to Danny. Then he’d cautiously made his way down to a narrow ledge where, through the swirling black smoke of the dying fire, he had a reasonably good view of the valley floor beneath the rock.

He’d heard the boy’s calls before he caught sight of him, and had been on the point of answering him when he saw the man emerge from the smoke. He’d quickly turned off the walkie-talkie and squatted down on the ledge, safe in the knowledge he wouldn’t be seen in the smoky darkness.

He listened to them talking and smiled. This John Miller might tell Danny that he didn’t believe in ghosts, but there was little doubt in Django’s mind that this man had been sent by the Ancestor Spirits to save Danny, and free him from the things that troubled him.

He watched Miller carry him away and, when they were lost in the smoke, he quickly climbed down from the ledge. He had no fear that the boy would come to any harm, but he was curious as to what Miller was going to do now.

As he stood in the swirling smoke and listened to Miller’s boots brush through the dry yellow grass he smiled again and silently began to follow him.

16

Millicent was now terrified. She could no longer see the tracks, the headlights barely penetrated the thickening smoke and, as she turned off the engine, she could hear the deep breath of fire blowing with the wind through the trees.

She glanced across at Hugh, who was still comatose on the seat beside her, and then through the rear window. There was a red glow in the smoke now and, with a moan of dread, she held her sleeping baby close, squeezed her eyes shut and began to pray.

The sharp rap on the window made her jump and she screamed.