Cooper collapsed in the grass, gasping at the jolt of agony as the metal teeth moved sideways, tearing at him like the blades of a saw. He fumbled desperately at his foot, found the jaws of the trap and felt the rusted metal, already slick with his blood. It was an old-fashioned animal trap, shaped like a clamshell and sprung by his weight on a strip of steel lying in the grass.

After a few minutes of fruitlessly trying to prise the teeth from his ankle, Cooper felt his fingers slipping on the metal, and knew that his hands must be covered in his own blood. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself so he could think clearly. If he was right about what type of trap he was caught in, it would be impossible to open the jaws without depressing the spring that powered them. Somewhere, there ought to be a chain and metal stake holding the trap to the ground, and a spring lever to force back the jaws.

He wiped his hands on the grass, thinking too late of the possibility that there might be another trap nearby. Then he tried to roll over to bring his arms nearer to the trap, only to be driven back by the agony that shot through his leg. He could feel his foot starting to swell, his boot growing tighter and tighter against the damaged flesh.

After a brief rest, he tried again, but more slowly this time. He edged over on to his side and inched bit by bit across the ground until he could reach the base of the trap. He was sweating by now. When he wiped a hand across his forehead, he wasn’t sure whether the slipperiness he felt was perspiration or blood, or a mixture of both.

His mobile phone had fallen in the grass a few feet to the right. He could reach it. It would hurt, but he could reach it. He’d charged the phone up in the car, as he always did. And it had only fallen in grass, so it wouldn’t be damaged. He thought he could even see the faint glow of the display.

Cooper nearly blacked out from the pain, but he knew his fingers were almost touching the phone. He breathed deeply, trying to clear his vision of the swarms of black specks, and the dark tide that was creeping in from the edges.

But maybe he’d lost too much blood and he was hallucinating. A slow rumble that he’d been hearing for a few seconds came closer, and stopped. A motorbike? It was followed by a rattle and the creak of a hinge. But then came a long silence, and he almost decided that it was an illusion – until he saw movement in the long grass, and heard a faint swish coming towards him, steadily getting nearer.