we climbed from the car. Waiting at the gate for us was a short looking man with a curved back. He stooped forward and used a stick to support himself. With a cloth cap pulled so far down his face, it was difficult to see his eyes. Yapping about his heels was a black and white collie.
“Evening Constable,” the man said.
“Good to see you, Moore,” Luke said, and the two men briefly shook hands. Moore glanced up at me from beneath the rim of his cap. His face was wizened and a cluster of white whiskers covered his chin. Without taking his eyes off me, he said to Luke, “Who’s the girl?”
“This is Constable Hudson,” Luke said. “A new recruit, fresh out of the box.”
“I wonder how long she’ll last?” Moore asked, and as he spoke I could see that where once he’d had teeth, there were now a set of fleshly looking gums.
“Where’s the body?” Luke asked, pulling a torch from his utility belt and switching it on.
“Up beyond that tree line,” Moore said, and waved his stick in the general direction of a crop of trees that lined his fields. “I’m warning you though, the kid don’t look pretty.”
Flashing his torch towards the trees, Luke said, “You wait here Moore.” Then looking back at me he said, “Ready?”
Pulling the collar of my jacket around my throat, I nodded. I didn’t know if I were ready or not. I’d never seen a dead body before – only pictures of them from crime scenes shown to us at training school. Following Luke, I made my way across the fields towards the trees. The earth was sodden, and my trainers squelched in the mud. At one point, my foot got stuck and I thought that I might just lose my shoe. Pulling me free, Luke took me by the arm and guided me across the field.
Stepping beneath the canopy of trees, the rain seemed to ease, trapped by the leaves above. Shining his torch on the ground ahead of us, Luke went deeper into the crop of trees. It was eerily quiet and I could hear the sound of my own heart thumping in my ears. Without warning, Luke dashed ahead, shouting over his shoulder, “Look – over here!”
I followed, and as I did, I could just make out the shape of something lying face up in the damp undergrowth beneath the trees. From a distance it looked like a pile of rags, but as I got nearer, I could see that it was the body of a small boy. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt which had been ripped open down the front. Luke waved the torchlight up and down the body of the boy. His face looked white and bloated but it wasn’t that which sickened me – it was the look of fear forever engraved upon his small face. I had never seen the look of such terror before, and I shivered at the thought of what his attacker must have looked like.
Bending down, Luke got onto all fours, and for a moment, blocked my view of the boy. He seemed to be examining him. “It’s definitely Henry Blake,” Luke said. “How can you be so sure?” I asked, hunkering down beside him. “Had dealings with the boy before,” Luke said. “Nothing serious – just chucking stones and being a nuisance, that’s all.” It was then, as I knelt beside Luke that I saw the injuries to Henry Blake’s throat – or what was left of it. From just beneath his chin, to his chest plate, the flesh was missing – ripped and torn away in jagged chunks.
Covering my mouth with my hands, I lurched to one side, desperate not to be sick on my first night and not in front of Luke. “Are you okay?” Luke asked, looking at me, and I could see the concern in his eyes. “Sure,” I said, swallowing hard to push away the bile that was burning the back of my throat. “If you need a moment…” Luke started and put his arm out to rub my back. Knocking it away, I stood up and tried to regain my composure. “I reckon he died about three days ago,” I said, trying to sound like a police officer instead of some emotional wreck.
“How do you know that?” Luke asked me. And by the tone of his voice, he sounded as if what he really wanted to say was, “How would you