From the Dead

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For a few seconds after the petrol tank goes up, the woods are shocked into silence.

At least that's how it seems, as though it takes those moments of quiet and stillness after the whump of the explosion for every bird and insect and small mammal to release the breath it has been holding. For the wind to begin moving through the trees again; although, even then, it dares do no more than whisper. Obviously, as far as the men watching the burning car are concerned, it might just be that it takes that long for the ringing in their ears to die down.

And, of course, the man inside the car has finally stopped screaming.

Ten minutes earlier, dragging him towards the Jag, the younger of the two men had needed to slap the poor bugger a few times to keep him quiet. As soon as he'd been bundled into the passenger seat, though, there was no shutting him up. Not when he'd seen the handcuffs come out and the petrol can that had been taken from the boot.

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