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Martina later conveyed details about her radio call with Kelvin. He had still not heard from Michael. He was torn between two plans of action – as if his ideas were the only ones necessary and it was inconceivable that anybody else should have one. His first suggestion was that they sit tight and wait until Michael makes contact. His second suggestion was that they all go back to the house, take stock of the situation, secure the house boundaries again and then come and get him.

The way Martina relayed the information clearly showed that she also assumed these would be the only options and no discussion was needed for anything more than deciding on either the former or the latter.

“I suppose it makes sense to some extent,” Roger said. “As long as the lion is out of the house it will be easy enough to secure everything and go from there. Then again, if the lion is out of the house, goodness knows where it could be.”

“What if other animals have breached the fence?” Steph said, running through a series of possibilities in her head. “What then? I mean, Roger only has one machete laced with mace.”

Roger bit his lip as he caught Steph’s eye and then swiftly tried to look in the opposite direction of Martina.

“I dunno,” Davey sighed. “Depends on the animal I guess.”

“Should anyone really be walking around out there with that lion going around killing at will?” Calum asked.

“It is not killing at will!” Martina spat.

“Well, it is not exactly killing against its will, is it?”

Martina ignored him. “Besides, Davey and Michael have walked around the place plenty of times before. Just the other day you went out with Steph.” She looked imploringly at Davey and then at Steph.

Steph felt it odd to suddenly have Martina looking at her for support. She was right, of course, but Steph felt less easy about the prospect of a walk in the current circumstances. There was a calculated intelligence in this lion that she had not been exposed to then. She was naïve to the plight of the rest of the animals too. More importantly, the lion had killed people since she last wentwalking. It had opened Pandora’s box and thrown away the lid.

“Look, whatever the case, let’s decide in the morning,” Steph said. “We all need some rest as we won’t make any sensible decisions right now. Kelvin can wait.”

Martina protested for a bit, but she could see that she wasn’t going to turn any heads away from the allure of sleep. Everyone was too tired and damp to contemplate heading out in the dark again. As if to cement the decision, a wolf howled not far from the cabin.

Morning came which brought with it a breakfast of bacon and eggs, but no agreement over a plan of action. There was disagreement. Disagreement over who should go, what to do once they were at the house, whether or not Calum needed to go to a hospital for his knee (which seemed to have worsened during what had been left of the night) and what should be done about the lion if they caught it.

In the end, it was agreed that Steph and Davey would go to the house before coming back for the others. Then they’d secure Kelvin who, it was agreed by all but one, was in no real danger. Roger and Martina would stay and care for Calum.

“Is Martina not worried about you shooting the lion?” Steph asked as the two of them walked through the trees.”

“Probably,” Davey shrugged. “It’s not my intention though. She’s probably just as concerned about you disfiguring it with the sword.”

Steph looked down at the machete in its mace-soaking sheathon the right side of her hip. On her ankle, she still had the dagger. She was surprised that Davey hadn’t asked for it back.

“I would have thought the stuff on this is so potent that it would deliver a clean wound,” Steph said, tapping the hilt of the machete.

“Are you sure that’s how it works?”

Steph shrugged.

The two proceeded cautiously. As there were obvious potential dangers, Davey decided it was best if they walked the perimeter fence to the house. He seemed to feel they would pass an exit on their way so that if things were looking particularly sticky for them, they at least knew where their out was. He also seemed to think there was less chance of bumping into anything. Steph was not completely convinced that a passed exit was much of a safety blanket, but the idea of being nearer the outside and in sight of guaranteed safety appealed to her.

The day was a clear one. The sun added a bit of warmth to the morning as they trudged over damp ground. It seemed that the sky had emptied itself of all it could hold and was now spent.

As they walked, Steph noticed the footprints of wolves in the mud. She looked up to tell Davey, but he was already looking at her. He looked down briefly at the prints himself and then back at her, grimacing and then flicking his head onwards. She gripped the handle of the machete.

Seeking the reassurance of a blade was becoming an uncomfortable habit for her. She had never understood youths carrying knives before as she felt it raised the chances of danger rather than lessening them. Now she was doing the same thing. She supposed growing up in a residential cul-de-sac in Sheffield with parents who both worked and encouraged extra-curricular activities was a safe environment. Now she wasn’t in one, she appreciated that maybe they weren’t either.

“What are you thinking about?” Davey asked.

Steph jerked her head in his direction. “What?”

“I said what were you thinking about?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“You were frowning, and your lips were twitching as if you were having a conversation with yourself.”