Chris Simms - Savage Moon

'How can you tell?'

'I'm not sure, it just doesn't feel familiar.' He heard her sigh. 'Go on then.'

Uncertain now, he carried on until he heard the sound of running water. Another gully had to be on their left. 'Try shining it again.'

The beam swept down, immediately picking out the cluster of rocks. Thank God for that, he thought. 'This is it.'

The little stream had died to a trickle and they were able to pick their way down the slope with relative ease. Within twenty metres of the rocks, Nikki shone the torch forwards again. Four ghost-like forms suddenly broke away from the boulders. She quickly cut off her cry of alarm. 'Jesus, they made me jump,' she giggled as the sprinting sheep disappeared beyond the range of the beam.

'I'm glad you're nervous too,' Jon said. 'I nearly pissed myself.'

They both laughed out loud as they approached the rocks. Jon put the Portascope down, rotating his shoulder back and forth to relieve his aching muscles. 'She was lying right here,' he said.

'The theory is whoever jumped her was using the rocks for cover.'

'Whoever or whatever?'

'Whoever,' Jon stated firmly. 'Let's not shit ourselves up any more than is necessary.'

Nikki shone the torch around, picking out strands of white fleece on the black soil. 'What a grim place to die.'

'Yup,' Jon replied. 'What do you reckon our chances are of finding anything?'

'Minimal. These rocks are our best bet.' She handed the torch to Jon, opened the case and took out the main unit. After screwing the bulb in, she selected a filter cap. 'We'll start with UV.' She attached the battery pack and put her finger on the switch. 'You can turn the torch off.'

As Jon did so he heard the Portascope click on. An eerie halo of blue light bathed the area before them. Holding it at waist height, Nikki started to sweep the rocks. Lichen and moss shone white in its unearthly glow and once again Jon felt like he could have been on an ocean bed.

Nikki worked her way along the semi-circle of rocks.

'Nothing ink based,' she said, removing a filter and releasing a burst of white light. 'Let's go to violet.' A new filter was attached, which turned the glow a soft reddish colour. Nikki began to sweep again. Now the lichen was hardly visible, though scratches and irregularities on the rock's surface suddenly were. Jon was glancing uneasily into the darkness behind him when he became aware that the glow had stopped moving.

'Got something?'

'I'm not sure. Is this a letter? It is! That's a K, or what's left of it.'

Jon looked over her shoulder. Just visible on the pockmarked surface was a darkish stain in the shape of a ragged K. 'Go to your right.'

Nikki swept the light across, and a faint U, R and I were revealed. 'Does that say Kuri?' Nikki asked.

'Go to the next rock, you'll find more letters there.'

She stepped sideways and the rest of the word appeared.

'Kuririkana. What does that mean?'

'Remember,' Jon replied. 'What do you think it's written in?'

'There's only one substance that glows black under violet light, and that's blood.'

Jon felt as though a cobweb had just caressed the back of his neck. He briskly rubbed at the spot with one hand. 'Can you take a scraping, for DNA?'

Nikki waved a hand. 'Problem is the cleaning agent, whatever it was.'

'Cleaning agent?'

'Someone's tried to rub this off. In fact, they probably believed they did remove it. In daylight, this would be invisible. Luckily, blood is one stubborn substance to remove completely, especially from a surface like this.'

Who could have tried to remove it? Jon ran through the list of people who'd visited this spot. Ken Sutton, Adam Clegg…

Jeremy Hobson. Had his alibi been checked for the night of Rose Sutton's death?

Nikki had removed a pot from her jacket and was scraping at the rock when the noise cut through the night. He saw her back stiffen and when she looked round at him, her eyes were wide with fear. 'What was that?'

Jon had to swallow before any words would come. 'Screech owl?'

Nikki was still crouching, eyes now shifting to Jon's side and the blackness beyond.

What? He wanted to shout as his pulse rocketed away. Is there something behind me?

'That was not a screech owl.'

Keep calm, Jon told himself. Do not let her see you're scared.

'A sheep then. They make pretty weird sounds, coughing and all sorts.'

'Jon, that was a snarl. Sheep do not-'

The noise came again, carried on the wind from somewhere further down the ravine. It was a throaty sawing sound, like air going in and out of a large pair of bellows. So that's what it feels like to have your hair stand on end, Jon thought as his scalp contracted against his skull. Casually he flicked the torch on and shone it down the slope. He may as well have tried to illuminate an aircraft hangar with a candle. 'Or a deer. A stag. You get them up here.'

'At night?' Nikki plucked the lens off the Portascope and began using the white glow to put the lenses back in the case. She slid the battery into its slot, then the torch, turning it off only when it was in place. She stood up. 'You can carry that. Fucking hell, Jon, it wasn't a deer. It was not a deer.'

A sharp odour caught in Jon's nostrils. Run! Just bloody run, his instincts screamed. 'Come on then,' he replied calmly, knowing how panic could pass between people like an airborne infection. 'We may as well head back. You lead the way, I'll be behind.'

'Too pissing right you will be. You got me out to this godforsaken place.'

They both started making their way up the ravine, neither now trying to step carefully over the boggier patches. Looking up, Jon was just able to make out where the slope ended and the sky began. 'Not far to the top,' he murmured, weighing up the case in his hand and wondering whether it would be better to swing as a weapon or clutch as a shield. He remembered the size of Samburu's claws. Jesus, calm down. You are not about to be attacked.

At the top of the slope Nikki paused, her breath coming in shallow gasps. 'Which way?'

'Right. We're heading towards that lump of land, see? At about two o'clock.'

'There are two paths, which one?'

Jon shone the torch ahead. Bollocks, she was right. 'OK, the right hand one. The other cuts away too-'

The noise came again. It now sounded level with them, somewhere off to their side. Nikki grabbed Jon's arm. 'What is that? Oh, please God, this isn't happening. Please tell me… ' He felt her grip starting to shake and her words dissolved into a single sob.

'Keep going, OK?' He pushed her down the right hand path, and as they made their way along, the only sound was the heather rasping against their damp legs. Just a walk in the park, Jon thought to himself, suppressing the flickers of panic threatening to catch fire in his brain. A nice walk in the park, tra la la la, that's all this is. A nice walk. Where've I got that line from, he wondered, guessing it was something he'd heard in a film. With a jolt he realised — American Werewolf in London . The scene where the beast attacks the backpackers out wandering on the moors. That bloody film, I wish I'd never seen it.

The noise came again. An urge to change direction away from it overwhelmed him. A trail opened up on their left. 'Take that one,' Jon snapped.

The terrain started rising and, to his immense relief, the red light at the top of the radio antenna bobbed into view. 'Keep going, Nikki. That's good. Keep aiming for that light.'

They skirted round the cairn at the top of Black Hill and marched down the other side without pausing for breath. Now on the plateau at the top of the moor, their stride lengthened. All the while Jon kept his head cocked to the side, listening out for the sound of anything pursuing them. After another five minutes he let the torch beam swing up. Dull metal glinted at the outer edge of the beam.