He whirled around, unreasonably angry. The two sheep were standing in front of the tunnel, looking through the fence. “Please, just go home. Go back to The Red Door.” The sheep looked at him blankly. “Go back to The Red Door. The. Red. Door.” And then he caught himself. “Jesus Christ, I’m talking to sheep.”

One of the sheep responded by taking a hoof and patting the fence. It squealed open.

Robin was taken aback. He crunched out of the undergrowth and up to the sheep. The fence’s padlock was lying on the ground, and there was a mound of something—dead leaves and wheat and other things. The sheep bent down and ate some.

That’s why the sheep had been following. Sally had been scattering food along the path. “Just in case I didn’t get the message, huh?” Robin said, and the sheep baa’d in agreement. “Who do you think she has more faith in?” he asked them.

The sheep looked at him. They all knew the answer.

Robin patted the sheep, stepping through the fence into the railway tunnel, shutting it tight so they couldn’t follow. They gave out their call again, and Robin nodded before turning into the tunnel and walking into darkness.

Chapter Fifty-Three

He trudged up the tunnel, trying to make as little sound as possible. He listened out for anything, but there was nothing particularly to note. Nothing to tell him that there was anyone else in the tunnel with him. Again, there was the soft thumping sounds of something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. There was the dripping of water into more water—the dampness of the tunnel was just as off-putting as he remembered it.

As before, he followed the railway tracks as best as he could, stepping over the old sleepers with care.

He kept the torch in front of him, trying to shake the feeling that he was willingly walking into the lion’s den. Maybe that feeling would have been easier to deal with if it had not been accompanied by a rather sizable one of being watched.

He thought he heard something crunch behind him and wheeled around to see... Nothing. Sound was so odd in the tunnel, he felt like he could have been hearing something a mile away or something right behind him.

He turned back, finding he had to brace himself before he held the flashlight up again. Nothing in front of him, nothing behind.

Just a lovely walk inside a creepy old tunnel.

He moved forward again, wondering if he should call out for Sally. He couldn’t bring himself to. So he just walked.