“Yeah,” said Teddy, trying to sound normal. He watched as Spanner’s broad back disappeared around the corner. Teddy found himself alone, by the edge of the great East Wood.

I’ll deny it all, thought Teddy wildly. He’d throw the gun away, and no one would ever know. Yeah, it would be his word against Carver’s, and without the gun there would be no proof! Spanner and Badger would do as he told them. But that mutt … it had been bleeding quite bad. For once, Teddy felt a shiver of conscience. He needed a place to hide the air rifle, somewhere it would never be found.

The sun seemed to lose its warmth, and he shivered again. Teddy and his buddies usually avoided the woods like they avoided school, but it would be an ideal place to bury the gun. He continued along the dusty track, having decided that the picnic area was the least spooky place to approach the woods. As he entered the clearing, he was surprised to see an enormous, black, four-wheel-drive vehicle with tinted windows parked there. It was the kind of cool monster wagon you could only import from America. Despite his morbid mood, Teddy couldn’t help but admire it. He found himself moving toward it to get a better look.

The SUV hummed slightly; maybe the engine was cooling. Violet blue lights flashed rhythmically, pulsating along with the soft noise the engine made, calming Teddy’s mood. It was nice watching the lights; all his worries were fading away. Nah, it’d be OK about Nat Carver and the gun. He would chuck it in the sea and that would be the end of it. Why had he been so worked up about that stupid little runt anyway? Teddy grinned vacantly, all the while watching the lights intently.

A movement made him glance across to the picnic area for a moment. All the breath left Teddy’s lungs. For there, sitting at one of the tables, eating a sandwich from a vast wicker picnic basket, was the most hideous apparition Teddy had ever seen, even in his most graphic nightmares.

The creature stood up slowly. It was tall and thin, its facial features arranged halfway between a man and a wolf. The parts of its body not covered by clothing were the color of dead flesh, mottled different shades of gray and green, and covered in a sparse, black fuzz of hair. It was dressed in a T-shirt with an iron-on transfer of Ozzy Osbourne on the front, and a pair of too big, faded jeans. It grinned at Teddy, showing a snaggled arrangement of impossible teeth. If it was trying for friendly, the effect was just the opposite. Teddy found himself unable to run away — it was as though his legs had frozen. His throat was affected similarly. He couldn’t even scream.

“Good afternoon, young man,” said the wolf thing chummily. “Fancy a sandwich?”