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The Moor, seemingly endless, pressed in all around him, slowing him down. At the rise, he had to stop, the ground heavy, sucking in his boots. The distance seemed so great. Ahead, maybe less than a dozen, maybe two dozen paces, stood the cottage. It may as well have been a mile, the strain and the fear sapping the last vestiges of strength from his body. Benign, solitary, the glow from its window should have been a welcome sight, but Salmon didn’t feel in the least bit pleased. Not any longer. This was no comforting glow, but something much more dangerous – a beacon, because if he could make it here, then so too could Charlie. He knew Charlie was following, even though he could neither see nor hear him. And when the caretaker realised that Salmon had only one place to go, then what? Th
