Callum trudged from streetlamp to streetlamp, drawn to the pools of light. He walked slowly, putting off the moment when the row of lights would end, leaving him alone in the darkness of Marlock Wood.

Beyond the estate, the road continued on, narrowing to one track as it disappeared into the blackness beneath the trees. Hardly any cars used this stretch of road through the woods, and Callum cursed under his breath as he realised that his torch was still hanging on the back of his bedroom door. He normally packed it when he knew he was going to be walking home in the dark, but of course he hadn’t expected to be getting home so late tonight . . .

Callum glanced longingly over his shoulder, back at the well-lit street behind him. A car pulled out of a driveway and headed up the road towards Marlock, tail-lights glowing red.

‘Just get it over with!’ Callum muttered to himself.

Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward.

It was like stepping into another world. Beneath the trees, the night crowded in on him. He looked back again. The road was empty now. He edged forwards into the darkness, stepping off the end of the pavement and on to the old, crumbling tarmac.

When he looked over his shoulder a third time, Callum swore aloud to himself.

‘For God’s sake, stop it!’

There weren’t any ghosts back there. He knew that.

But every bone in his body was telling him that there was something. Something else.

Callum knew better than to doubt his instincts. He didn’t know why, but they were always right. Sometimes it felt like he had some kind of sixth sense that warned him about trouble and danger – his Luck, he called it. He walked on quickly, shivering. He couldn’t see anything now, neither on the narrow road in front of him, nor in the inky depths of Marlock Wood on each side. But he wasn’t alone on this ancient path, he was sure of it. Something was watching him. Somewhere in the dark. He didn’t know if it was good or bad, but it was there.