FOR A CHANGE, DUCK wasn’t having a nightmare. He was dreaming instead, a wet dream.
It felt real. Bugs’ body was curled next to him, her lips in his ear, whispering, ‘I want to shag you.’
He felt his manhood react to the voice in his ears.
He felt something warm between his legs. He smiled until he realised it was his own hand. But it wasn’t that that woke him.
It was a presence.
He bolted upright. A knife materialised in his right hand.
He waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before he moved quietly, easing the cover of the sleeping bag off him.
From a distance, a flute played the hauntingly familiar melody of Danny Boy. He realised one of his own mob had tracked him.
‘Who’s there?’ he asked in a soft faint voice, yet the sound carried loudly in the stillness of the nigh
