When he caught the distant sound of voices, he thought he was still replaying his memories from before. Then, as they came closer, he realized they were real and present.

Instinct took him back among the trees as the voices grew in strength, accompanied now by the noise of advancing footsteps.

He knew at once by the voices that they were local and conjured up a vision of the angry gang led by Josh who had threatened retribution at the meeting.

As the six figures burst whooping and hollering from the trees, he saw that they were wearing balaclavas and brandishing what looked like metal bars, and maybe even axes.

What the hell were they planning to do?

He knew he should step out now and challenge them, but their fury suggested he might be their first victim.

His first thought was that they would go for the house, but it was all locked up. Might they climb up onto the lower balcony and force entry that way?

But it became quickly obvious that wasn’t their intention.

The noise rang in his ears as the first blows fell. The two axes, one wielded by a figure he thought was Josh, were up on the plinth and systematically smashing the hot tub.

Another masked figure joined them, giving a whoop of joy as he proceeded to urinate on the wreckage. Then the rest joined in, shrieking and pissing, as Josh paused to examine his handiwork.

Greg held his breath, hoping that would be enough to satisfy them, but his hopes were soon dashed.

The hot tub smashed, they now began destroying the concrete slabs on which it stood. They didn’t last much longer than the hot tub. Grabbing at the broken pieces, they set about bombarding the remains of the hot tub with the rubble.

Eventually the whooping and hollering stopped and cans and bottles appeared, as the gang finished off the alcohol which had propelled them here in the first place, tossing their empties into the wreckage.

All Greg could think about now was whether they’d had enough of destruction or whether there was yet more planned and this was only the opening skirmish.

His eye went to the sauna, only yards away. Would that be next on the list?

He saw a light flare, and for a frightening moment imagined they were about to light a fire. Maybe even set the wooden sauna building on fire.

Jesus, if they did that, it could set the whole tinderbox of the woods alight.

But that, it seemed, wasn’t their intention. They had sat down to smoke and consume the remainder of their drink. They were talking, but Greg was too far away to make out what was being said.

One of them – Greg thought it might be Billy MacKenzie, whose nephew Ben had also died from the virus – had taken to examining the ruins in closer detail.

‘Jesus, fuck! Look at this!’ he shouted.