Free Beyond Fear by Jaye Ford Page A

urge to leave the damn icebag right where it was. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark now and she could see the dim light from the verandah around the edges of the open hood of the boot, its rectangle of blackness looming over them like a tsunami.
    ‘There was a bag tucked into the front corner before the light went out,’ Hannah said.
    Jodie took a breath and bent back into the boot. The spare tyre cover was missing and she ran her hands over the wheel to feel her way, dirt gritty under her palms. There were tools wrapped in a towel and something long and cold, maybe a tyre iron, and some greasy rags. And the icebag. Jodie pulled it out by its corner, was about to hand it to Hannah when a noise behind her made her stop. It was a crack, like hands clapped together or a stick breaking. Beside her, Hannah sucked in a breath.
    ‘Hey, girls. Nice night for it.’
    Jodie went cold. The voice was male and its friendliness – out here, at night, on the top of a deserted hill – sounded like a threat.

8
    Jodie spun around, saw two figures. Both men, for sure, but in the blackness she couldn’t make out any detail. The faces were lighter but their mouths and eyes were just shadow. They were a couple of body lengths away, side by side. Same height, same stocky build, thick buttoned-up jackets, beanies – like the same person in double vision.
    The one on the right spoke. ‘Need a hand?’ She saw the silhouette of his head nod towards the gear at their feet.
    Jodie felt a rush of blood. She didn’t want them anywhere near her. Or Hannah. Or the barn.
    She raised her voice, tried to sound firm. ‘No, thanks. Just trying to get the luggage sorted out before our husbands get here.’ The message was simple – you guys are about to be outnumbered .
    Hannah’s shadow looked at her then turned back to the two men.
    ‘You just staying the night?’ the one on the right asked.
    Where the hell had they come from? They didn’t have torches. Maybe there were more of them. Jodie looked quickly left and right. Couldn’t see anything but deep, dark night. ‘No, we’re all here for the whole weekend.’ There’s a big group so don’t bother coming back.
    The man on the left pushed his hands into his pockets, hunched his shoulders inside his thick jacket, took a step closer.
    Jodie edged away and felt the car bumper against her thighs. Don’t panic, Jodie. Keep your wits about you. She took a breath. Okay, don’t answer any more questions. It felt wrong, like it was giving too much away.
    ‘Where did you come from?’ Her voice sounded small and frightened. She cleared her throat, raised the volume. ‘What are you doing here?’
    The one on the right spoke again. ‘We’re camping over the ridge.’ He pointed in the direction of the long drive but up and over the other side of the hill. ‘Came to see where the lights were coming from.’ When she looked back, he’d stepped forward, level with the other guy.
    His hands were in his pockets now, they looked like they were just having a casual chat. But there was nothing relaxed about the way they were standing. Their bodies were squared, torsos erect, feet apart, ready to move if they wanted to. And they were way too close. Not quite within the two arm’s lengths Jodie taught in her self-defence class – two arm’s lengths was too far away for grabbing, enough distance for a heads-up if an attacker moved – but here, in the dark, it was too close for comfort.
    The bumper on the back of her thighs told her she couldn’t do anything about the distance between them but she could improve the odds. She sat on the edge of the boot like she needed to take a load off and let her left hand drop into it. ‘Is there a camping ground over the hill?’ she asked as she slid her hand over the dirty base.
    ‘Nah, don’t need a camping ground to pitch a tent around here.’ It was the guy on the right again, inching forward as he leaned his weight on one leg. Jodie heard the