Before he got too close, James stopped at a bench, sat, and watched.

Even though it was late, less men seemed to be here than he’d imagined. The air was cooler away from the road, so he zipped his jacket up to his neck and shoved his hands in his pockets.

James seemed to be the only one here without a car. He shuddered and thought about going back, but just then a figure slipped through the light into the toilets. After another minute, a car door shut with a crunch and a second figure entered the toilet block.

His breath got faster. James squeezed his hands into fists inside his pockets, and stood. If he paused now he’d have to retreat completely. He would just go in, have a piss, and see what there was to see. Sitting around a lonely motel room waiting for sleep to come was not going to make him feel any better than he did now.

The ute that appeared from nowhere clipped a tree branch as it swerved into the car park, and as James turned his head to see what had caused the noise, it closed on the toilet block at a shocking speed. Before it even came to a standstill on a rough angle, men were jumping out, shouting. He saw a flash of a baseball bat in the harsh light of the spots mounted on the vehicle’s roof, and heard the drumming of one of them down the side of the dog cage on the tray. One of the cars parked in the shadows leaped into life and accelerated to the main road, turning dangerously up the hill.

James was between the ute and the toilets in the full glare of the light. He could think of nothing but bolting into the darkness in great strides, feet making loud falls until he hit longer grass in the shadows. He made for the darkness right down by the water where the lights up top had no reach.

When he heard shouting, muffled within the brick walls of the toilet block, he turned and discerned a large shape pursuing him.

‘Come here, faggot,’ the man said, sounding close.

James returned to running, trying to make out the water’s edge, and the longer grass started to drag at his ankles. Well behind him, another car retreated and someone let out a series of high-pitched expletives.

‘There’s one over here!’ the figure following him shouted. The voice sounded immature, but James made out an extra sound, like a pipe being hit against concrete.

The path came to a confusing end and James felt the unmistakeable sting of nettles on his ankles. The ground was uneven and he sensed it grew more level in the distance, but the noise his flight was making was just too loud. He’d need to reach a patch of grass in order to shake his pursuer and escape the reeds by the water.