Tapping Vicky on the shoulder Neil pointed outside. Vicky’s eyes widened as she followed the direction of his gaze. The man was looking down at a notebook held in his hands. He raised his head, dark-colored eyes resting on the oak tree as if looking right at them. The children held their breath. The man looked away then and began to pace slowly around the circle of trees until he was out of sight. Coming back into view he stopped and motioned for the boy to come forward. There was a brief exchange of words, which they could not hear, and then the boy dropped the sack and started digging while the man crouched next to him staring at the earth.
It was then that Vicky noticed movement in her peripheral vision just above her. Letting itself drop down in sudden jerky outlets of silk was a large, fat garden spider, its outstretched furry legs and grotesquely swollen abdomen rotating slowly in the airless interior of the tree trunk. With an abruptness that made her scream, the big arachnid plopped itself down not more than a centimeter from the end of her nose.
Outside three heads snapped up and around to look in their direction. A low rumbling growl reached them as the dog, a one-meter high black Rottweiler, barred its teeth, its nose testing the air trying to pick up a scent. The man rose slowly, turning as he did so until he was facing them. Neil felt his gaze bore straight into him.
The dog began to stalk forward, nose low to the ground, teeth glistening with drool. The growling intensified.
“Come out and I call him off,” called the man, his voice ringing across the clearing.
Neil tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly like sandpaper.
“I think we’re in trouble,” he gasped.
Vicky nodded, hand clamped over her mouth to stop herself screaming, still petrified by the spider in front of her and now the man-eating dog about to tear them limb from limb.
“Who’s there? How did you get in here?” called the man stepping forward slowly, eyes still fixed on them. The dog was now only a few meters away, snorting and snarling in anticipation as it approached.
“Come out or he will drag you out.”
Vicky began to backpedal trying to merge with the back of the tree. She put both her hands out behind her, her right hand meeting solid wood, while her left hand met nothing but thin air. It took a second for her brain to register, and then she twisted round and felt with both her hands while her eyes adjusted to the faint light coming from what looked like a bigger hole in the back of the tree.
“I think there’s another way out,” she said urgently. Neil tore his eyes away from the oncoming beast and looked at his sister.
“Where does it go?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but do you have a better idea?”
“Let’s do it.”
She began to crawl into the hole. As she went further in she could see that the gap twisted round to the right. She followed the curve of the passage, and as she moved forward it became lighter and then she could see daylight and trees, and in a second she was out in the open and scrambling upright. She turned to see Neil’s upturned face looking at her as he began to climb out.
“Run,” he urged her. “Now!”
Vicky took off, with Neil a couple of seconds behind her. As they ran, a volley of barks and viscous snarls came from the other side of the oak. Then they were in the trees and running blind, Vicky still in the lead, and as she ran she saw something orange-red flashing in the undergrowth off to her left. With a shock she realized the fox was back. Without hesitation she changed direction to follow it. Neil was too intent on the barking behind him to worry about where his sister was going, and he followed her as they crashed through undergrowth and suddenly they found themselves back out in the open moorland. On the horizon they could just see the chimney’s of the cottage poking through the surrounding trees.
“There’s the house,” cried Vicky.
“Just keep running,” urged Neil.
They scrambled away from the trees and ran across the heather, the noise of the dog rising in their ears. Neil slipped and fell. Panic rising, he twisted around, half expecting to see the dog leaping onto him, but it did not come.