Red Fever by Caroline Clough

hand. It felt hot and sticky too. “Come on, into bed.” He led her across to her makeshift day bed on the sofa. She didn’t complain but crawled in and snuggled down straightaway. “I’ll get you a drink of water.” Toby went and fetched her a mug of cold water, but when hereturned, she was fast asleep.
    Toby decided to go outside and help his dad. The chickens could be skittish at times. His dad was closing the shed door as Toby walked down into the compound.
    “All the ladies are safely shut up for night,” said his dad, pushing the bolt shut. “I’m going to go and check the lock on that gate.”
    “I’ll come with you. Jamie’s keeping watch and Sylvie’s asleep. She’s running a high temperature again.”
    His dad nodded. “We’ll need to keep an eye on that. We’ve run out of Calpol, and I don’t dare give her any adult paracetamol, not that we’ve got much of that either.”
    “One tablet,” said Toby. “Last time I looked in the first-aid tin there was just one tablet left.” His dad shrugged his shoulders resignedly.
    “I know, we really need to find some more medicines,” he said.
    The two of them swung open the heavy wooden gates of the compound. To the left was a path that led down to the jetty where the Lucky Lady was moored. To the right was a stony track which led along the rocky promontory up to the village. About twenty yards along this, the track narrowed and the ground fell steeply away either side of it. This was where Toby’s dad had put up tall chain-link fencing that went down each side of the track and intothe sea. Two massive gates stood on the track, fastened with a huge iron chain and padlock. Toby’s dad went and shook them vigorously.
    “They’ll hold!” he cried to Toby, who was inspecting the supporting struts of the fencing. “You’d need to ram them with a tractor to get these gates down.”
    “These still seem solid,” Toby cried back, trying to shake the posts in the ground.
    He lifted his head. His eye had caught some movement in the village on the hillside above them. He frowned and squinted into the evening light. Had he imagined it? Something in the half-light darted across the play park. A baby swing swayed back and forth, creaking spookily. Toby stared into the dusk. Was it a rabbit or a hare? There were certainly hundreds of them around the area, with its surrounding fields of grass and weeds to eat. No, it had been bigger than a rabbit.
    Something shot across the tarmac car park near the beach. There was more than one. Surely Jamie would have warned them if the dogs had come closer?
    “Toby, come here, slowly,” his dad quietly commanded.
    Toby climbed back up the bank on to the track and stood beside his dad. There, coming down the track five abreast, were the dogs. They trotted calmly out of the gloom of the dusk towards them.
    “Don’t move!” hissed his dad.
    “We’re safe here, aren’t we?” Toby hissed back.
    “We should be. Can’t see them getting over these gates, and they certainly can’t get through them,” said his dad.
    Why am I so scared then? thought Toby. They look like they mean business. I don’t think they want us to throw them a ball!
    The dogs were getting closer. They sniffed the air and then stopped a few feet from the gates. They were tall, handsome dogs with shiny coats.
    “Don’t look them in the eye,” said Toby’s dad. “I read somewhere that that just annoys dogs.”
    “No,” said a voice behind them. Jamie had been walking quietly towards them. “ Do look them in the eye. Stare hard back at them. Draw yourself up to your full height and look as domineering as you can,” he instructed.
    “What?” gasped Toby. “I thought …”
    “These are foot soldiers,” interrupted Jamie. “They’re not the dominant ones in the pack. They’re used to being given orders. So order them to go away.”
    “What d’you mean?” gasped Toby’s dad.
    “Look,” said Toby, “they’re wagging their tails!