He lay still, listening to the receding sound of the engine as the car sped away and almost gave in to the impulse to just lie there, wherever there was, and go to sleep. His ribs were beyond painful. Every breath sent stabs of agony through his chest and his head felt like it was twice its proper size and being held together by an ever tightening steel band. Slowly, he turned from his side, where he had landed, on to his hands and knees and promptly collapsed again as the arms proved unequal to the task. He tried again, relying more on the legs this time, and eventually, awkwardly, struggled to his feet and looked around. Where the hell was this? He stood at the side of a narrow country road, grass verges and a mix of stone wall and hedge separating the road from fields. He couldn’t see much beyond the hedge – a combination of dusk and rising land made sure of that – though he could make out the last vestiges of sunset off to his right. So that was west, then, or approximately west.
