You’ve been out walking in the north Pennines and you misjudged the length of your walk and the time it would take you to finish.
It’s dark now and you have half an hour more walking before the bothy you’re going to stay in. It’s not a problem though, you’re well equipped, and your headtorch lights the way in front of you.
When you stop for a drink of water, you turn it off for a moment, enjoy the thick, velvety darkness that you don’t get near a town. As your eyes adjust, there’s enough light to see the greater darkness of the sullen humps of the fells against the night sky.
When you turn to look behind you, you see two white lights near the top of the hill you’ve just descended. They’re close together, not moving, so not hikers. Car headlights, you think, but how the hell did they get up there? You wonder if it’s a mountain rescue 4x4, perhaps on an exercise. You didn’t see any other walkers around, and you hope you didn’t pass someone injured and not notice them. But surely you’d have heard the sound of an engine from miles away.
You stare at the two white glows for a moment, trying to work out what they could be.
Then they blink, slow and deliberate, and start to move down the hill towards you.
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