Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,77

I get off the train. The sky is inky black with stars and curls of clouds. I can see the moon. I’m thinking I should have brought Mum with me, after all. But this stage is just about choosing one of the puppies, not to actually bring one home. That’ll be next week, once all the vaccinations have been done and they’ve had the final go-ahead from the vet. She can come with me then.

I spot a figure in a denim jacket at the far end of the platform, but there’s no one with ginger hair standing alongside. As the figure gets closer, it’s not the stranger I was expecting.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ I say. ‘I was expecting someone called Alistair.’

‘He asked me to come instead. His mum’s got a migraine and couldn’t get out of bed.’

‘You know him? You know about the dogs? How weird. I’m relieved it’s you actually. I was beginning to think it was a bit stupid to agree to meet a stranger.’

We come out of the station, across the bridge and join a narrow path alongside what looks like wasteland, where buildings have recently been demolished. It’s deserted here and poorly lit.

‘What is this place?’

‘There’s going to be a new development. That’s why it looks such a mess.’

There’s a chain-link wire fence that’s been squashed down here and there, allowing people through to the railway cutting. I shiver. It’s not just the cold; I’m uneasy, wandering so far from civilisation.

‘Is this right?’ I asked. ‘It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere.’

‘We’re not going to someone’s house. The breeders need space to keep the dogs. They’ve got horses, too, so there are stables and a paddock. It’s not far. You’ll love it.’

‘Blimey, I’m glad I didn’t have to find it on my own.’

‘Nearly there. It’s quicker if we cut through here.’

We step over a torn-down section of the wire and walk alongside the railway line. I can see the red light from a signal floating in the distance.

‘The owner said they’d already sold three of the pups. Don’t want you to miss out.’

‘Of course. Thanks. It’s good of you to take me. How do you know about them?’

‘My uncle knows someone who works there.’

I turn to look at the lines beside us: they’re shiny and silver, illuminated only by the moon. ‘Are you sure we’re allowed on here? Aren’t trains going to come right past us.’

‘It’s fine. It’s not far. Can’t you hear the dogs barking? We’re nearly there.’

We turn off and head into the bushes, but it’s like walking into an underground cave and I hesitate. I can’t hear any dogs. All I can hear are alarm bells clanging loudly inside my head, telling me to get out of there. This isn’t right. I need to return to the station, to where there are other people. There will be other puppies, another day.

‘Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t feel too well. I’m going back.’

‘But we’re nearly there.’

I turn around and start clambering over the low branches and broken bricks as fast as I can. My heart is bolting. It was stupid to have come this far.

I don’t make it as far as the station. I don’t even make it out of the undergrowth. Before I can stagger into the meagre glow of dusk, something heavy and hard whacks me on the back of the head. I hear the crack as it hits my skull and my body buckles under me, like a puppet with broken strings.

I feel crisp leaves under my cheek as I flop down with a crunch and take in the musty mossy smell of the earth. My grip on existence falters. I need to get up and keep going, but I can’t make anything move. My legs, my arms are set in stone.

I’m dragged towards the track. I try to dig my heels into the earth, to anchor myself, but that simple action is beyond me. I try to make myself heavy. It’s all I can do. I can’t even get my eyes to open.

With a jolt, my lip slaps against the cold metal of the railway line and I hear the rumble, feel it vibrate under my ribs.

A train is on its way.

I don’t need to open my eyes to know the red light up ahead has turned green. Full steam ahead.

It’s as though a supreme being in the sky has decided there are too many like me in the world. I scrunch up my eyes; it’s all I can manage.