They appeared at the same time, one between the oak and the ash, the other between the ash and the hawthorn, both kneeling on the ground. Sarah and I shot to our feet. I pulled the roots of my ash tree up with me so they wormed just under the surface of the earth.

A cold sweat dripped down my back. My muscles seized up and locked my feet to the ground. This was it. Ready or not.

Their hands hovered over the ground in front of them, fingers curled like hooks. Smoke ...