It overwhelmed the smell of manure that would otherwise fill the senses for anyone who visited the farm. I couldn’t seem to rid myself of the odour though Beth hadn’t noticed it. “Are you sure this is the place?” she asked in a whisper and I nodded emphatically. We were crouched in the thick bushes on the edge of the property and had been watching the farmhouse for the last twenty minutes. No movement or lights had been seen and considering that it was close to four in the morning, I imagined any sane person would be asleep. Beth had parked her car on the main road and we had walked the few hundred metres down the weed choked dirt track in silence. The address that Randall had provided was a farmhouse past the far edge of the city and its suburbs. It hadn’t been a working farm for a long time. Just a small patch of land and a barn with a few cows and sheep, or so I assumed from the pens set around the farm that seemed curiously empty.
