Chapter One

Joshua had never particularly liked ravens. He disliked the look of the big, black birds, and their irritating, cawing noise grated on his nerves. Normally, he enjoyed walking through the park, but not today. Today he couldn't even spot a sparrow when normally they were numerous. Even when he walked down the long tree-lined avenue, all he saw were ravens sitting up in the branches. No blackbirds, no robins, no thrushes, no wagtails and no finches. It made him feel very uneasy. When a cold gust of wind blew, he paused to turn up the collar of his jacket. Glancing up, he counted seven ravens in one lime tree, alone.

He shuddered and continued on, but his thoughts, already gloomy when he awoke that morning, now grew darker. He began to think about the films he had seen, where evil looking ravens pecked out the eyes of executed men, hanging from gibbets. He thought of a western film where dead bodies were eaten by vultures. Still, he didn't think it likely he would spot a vulture in an English park. It was peculiar though, because there weren't even any magpies around. All he could see were dozens and dozens of ravens, and everyone seemed to be staring at him.

One rather large raven swooped down from a tree and suddenly flew straight at him. Joshua had to duck in order to avoid a collision. As the bird flew on past, he got a close view of its eyes. Dark, shimmering eyes that, for a split second, bored into him. He had the most overwhelming sense of foreboding and the fatigue, which he had been experiencing for the past few weeks, grew even greater. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other and, for a man who until recently had played squash for his county, it was incredibly frustrating.

The weariness forced him to sit down on a bench, when all he wanted to do was carry on to his destination and get the results of the tests. He took a bottle of mineral water out of his jacket pocket and drank some of the cool liquid. In the distance, he saw a group of children in fancy costume. His eyesight, normally perfect, had become very hazy of late. Still, he could just make out what they children were dressed as. There were two witches, two ghosts, a devil and some kind of demon. He was impressed. The costumes were very good. The devil suddenly broke away and ran in his direction.

"Hello, Mister, we're off to a party and tonight we're going round the streets." He put his hand out. "Trick or treat?"

Then it struck him. He had totally forgotten it was Halloween. Joshua gave the lad fifty pence. "Nice outfit. It certainly scares me."

"That's the idea, Mister. Thanks for the money," the boy said, running off.

Joshua put the top back on the bottle and stared up into the sky. The sky was like his thoughts, dark, gloomy, and oppressive. Big black thunderclouds gathered over head, heralding the storm that was about to break. Well, those trick or treaters were going to get very wet tonight. He thought back to the Halloween parties that he had attended over the years. One in particular stood out in his mind, and that was the one his cousin, Tate, held at his house when they were both sixteen. Tate didn't fully understand the concept of trick or treat. To Tate, it was trick and trick. No matter how much money or sweets Tate received, he would take delight in throwing bad eggs at peoples' doors and in running a key down the sides of their cars. He let tyres down too, just for the hell of it. If he had been with Tate then he would have stopped him doing such awful things, but he only heard about if afterwards from friends. Twenty people had been at that Halloween party and they had split up into three groups. Joshua felt disgusted and ashamed of his cousin and, after that, he had little to do with him. When they did meet at a funeral seven years later, Tate borrowed Joshua's mobile. He never gave it back and, to Joshua's mind, that was stealing. When Tate was arrested just months later for theft and arson, Joshua wasn't really surprised. If ever there was a black sheep in a family then Tate was it.

Joshua shivered. Looking down he saw that his bench was surrounded by a circle of ravens and they all seemed to be staring up at him. He didn't like it. He almost felt cursed and so he got up and continued walking down the path, but, glancing behind, he saw a line of ravens following him. He quickened his pace but the effort left him breathless and his ever present headache worsened. His appointment at the doctor's surgery was for three-thirty. He dragged himself on, because he didn't want to be late. He needed to know what was wrong with him, and he wanted it put right.