She heard Russ start talking, somewhere. She touched Dan’s shoulder. He didn’t respond. She tugged, one-handed, and his upper body rolled. His head fell towards her, and his cheek hit the ground. His eyes were open but not looking. She touched his cheek. It was warm. She touched his mouth. Her fingers rested on his lips but she felt no breath, and his eyes stayed open, shining. She touched his neck, no rise or fall, no pulse, no flicker on the skin. His fixed eyes didn’t blink.

‘Dan?’

She couldn’t look at his eyes. Slowly, she moved her hand, along his cheek, under his ear, to the back of his neck. Her hand knew the feeling of his dense, soft skin, and the shaved-close touch of his hair, and how the gradual fade went softer over the base of his skull, and the roundness of his head. Her fingers felt their way, but there was no smooth dome. She felt the bone give way to breakage, pulp, then nothing, touching the ground where the ground shouldn’t be, and wetness. She felt the jagged splinter of his skull and pulled her hand away. Her breath was quick, then panting, her body jerking at each breath, and she couldn’t stop. Without wanting it, she looked back to Dan’s blind eyes. Then there was no sound, not even pain, just silence.

Slowly, she straightened up. Unaware of herself, she travelled him. The dip above his collarbones, the ribbed neck of his T-shirt, the rest of it, hoisted up, his bare stomach, his belt buckle, the denim of his jeans, and a big, blackish stain, which must be blood. His legs looked uncomfortable, knees bent and feet side by side, neat. She could see the soles of his trainers, the rubber treads on them, impossibly exposed. She looked down, at his hand again, and how still it was. She wiped her fingers on the grass and pulled his T-shirt down over his stomach as well as she could. She put her hand over his eyes. She had the idea she could hide the horror from him. He didn’t seem to have left his body, but his body was dead. It was him and not him. Terrible. Horror. She could not take her eyes off him. His corpse. She could not take her eyes off his corpse. She smelled cigarette smoke, drifting.

‘OK, now,’ said Russ. ‘Get over.’