The sun had dropped, but we still had sufficient daylight to see and explore the wasteland with confidence.

Josh and I raced down the alleyway and out into the expanse of open ground. We immediately stopped and our eyes simultaneously settled at the same place: A large, concrete building in the near distance and to our left.

"That's it, the large warehouse or factory type building that Dylan's dad spoke of," said Josh.

"Where they're going to carry out the sacrificial ceremony," I said.

"That's it, with Dylan as the star of the show," said Josh, with a certainty that at first bothered me, then pissed me off.

"Why'd you say that, like it's definitely going to happen?" I said, my rising anger, obvious.

Josh remained cool tempered, as always, "Because it's definitely happening, Benita." He started walking toward the building, "Unless we stop it and save him," he added.

I reined my temper in and caught up with him. The building looked derelict and the concrete was blackened with age, making it most certainly invisible during the cover of darkness.

The sun hovered above the flat concrete roof, giving us perhaps thirty minutes of light left, I estimated.

Josh picked up his pace and I matched it. Suddenly he stopped. "What is it?" I asked.

"My phone," he grappled in his pocket.

"It's Clara," he said, slamming the phone to his ear.

When he said her name, a jolt of jealousy brushed past me, which I did my best to ignore.

As he listened his face ran the gamut of emotions from concern, empathy and finally a kind of suppressed anger. When he eventually spoke, it was with a gentle caring, "Clara, listen to me. You are safe from spirits in my home. No human or spirit can hurt you there. The black feather you've found has come from my duvet, it's not a demon, do you get me?"

He listened, and then replied, "I am busy right now, I can't come home yet. I repeat, you're safe in my home. When I return I will explain further. I must go now, I will be home soon."

He shook his head with exasperation and put the phone back in his pocket, "The human traffickers put Juju spells on the girls before they take them into Europe. The girls believe they've sold their souls, which means they can be controlled with fear, by the men who smuggle them in. It's pure man made evil!" He explains.

"What was the black feather thing?" I asked.

"Clara's in a petrified panic because she found a black feather on the floor. She thinks a duvet feather's a demon come to give her a disease or some illness, that's how brainwashed she is," he says, concern on his face.

The sun had dipped a fraction below the concrete building, "Do you want to go back, and reassure her?" I asked, battling with and winning that sudden bout of jealousy. 'That's it Benita, woman up, don't be dragged down by the green-eyed monster' I told myself.

He nodded a no, "I calmed her some, she will be fine until my return."

I noticed the sun had dropped another notch below the concrete building, "We don't have much time, it'll be dark soon," I said.

Josh continued on, "We're here, we have some time, let's not waste it. Dylan deserves all the time we can give him."

Something crunched under my foot, I looked down and yelped, "Eurgh, it's a dead bird, I just wrecked its bones!" I looked at Josh, feeling the disgust distort my face, "Do you think it was sacrificed?" I asked. He laughed, "No, it's just a dead crow, coincidence is all that is," he said.

Moving onwards and another 'CRUNCH' like sound effect halted us, this time from under Josh's foot. We looked down to see his Box Fresh, White trainers smeared in blood and bird brains, "Orrrr Man, that's not cool," he said, swiping his trainer against the bird's wing.

My eye veered from Josh's trainer to another dead bird, and another, then another, "Josh, this is gross, the ground's like literally a carpet of dead birds."

He looked down and out, his eyes focussing on each dead bird, he honed in on one and stooped a little, "I stand corrected, this ain't no coincidence." His hand reached out and he gesticulated, "Come Benita, look."

I peered down with him, and saw that the bird had been carefully placed, with its head positioned to the right, and its wings almost artfully splayed outwards. Looking at the others, I saw they were all positioned in the same way.

Josh stood upright, and looked over his shoulder, "Ahh, I see, they've created a pathway with death."

"What do you mean?"

He bent his knees and made a sweeping gesture, like the kind Air Stewards make to indicate the aisle of the Aircraft, "Follow the path created by the dead birds, they will take you to the entrance, and eternal salvation in sacrifice," he said, with a mocking tone.

I looked either side of myself and saw that the birds were laid in such a way as to create a pathway forward, "You ready to walk the line, Benita?" Asked Josh.

Looking at the decreasing sun, I said, "I reckon we've got fifteen minutes of good light left; let's do it."

The pathway led to two huge wooden doors, secured by a heavy padlock and massive chain. Josh pushed the doors, "They're locked solid."

Large blackened, industrial type windows were set within the concrete walls, creating ledges that you could stand in. I jumped up on one and used the sleeve of my jacket to see if I could see inside; but as I rubbed it became obvious they were blacked out from inside.

Josh was walking alongside the building, as he was about to round the corner, I shouted, "Whoah, don't go back there and leave me here," I said, jumping off the ledge and running to him.

He stopped and held his hand out. When I reached him, he pulled me into him and gave me a tight, protective hug, "Never worry, I'll look after you always, Benita," he said, before letting me go.

His face dropped, "Are you alright, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"I'm fine, just a bit spooked," I said.

"Understandable," he replied.

But the truth was, his hug had winded me, not in a physical way, in a bigger way than that. In his hug, I felt such an intense feeling of security, the kind of which I'd never felt from a guy before, it was off the scale and I struggled to control it.

"You're shaking Benita, are you sure you're up for this, we can go back right now, if you want?" He said, his hand on my shoulder.

Dylan flashed into my head, as if to remind me why we were there, I composed myself, "I'm good, a combination of being spooked and it's chilly here," I said, pulling my jacket collar up.

He smiled, "Good, I just want to see if there's a way in, or if there's somewhere that gives us a glimpse inside." He looked up at the lowering sun, "While we've still got light time," he said.

We walked the length of the building and found no way in, "They've secured the place tight. But I'm happy that this is the site for the sacrifice, for sure."

"What if Dylan's already in there? I'd feel bad leaving, knowing we've left him here, missed him a second time," I said.

"No, they'll be keeping him in a domestic dwelling," said Josh.

"But why was the guy bringing Clara here?" I asked.

"To measure her up and test hang her, like a rehearsal, so everything's right for the big night." He looked up at one of the windows, Dylan may not be here now, but he's certainly been here, and will be again, sometime soon," he said, his eyes scanning the window.

I honed in on this particular window, and noticed it was blackened with dirt, and not wholly covered on the inside, like the others, "Stand back, Benita!"

When I did, I saw Joshua brandishing a brick, and before I could react, he hurled it at the window like he was going for Gold at the Olympics.

The result of his throw, sounded and felt like an explosion in the relevant quiet of the waste land space, and we both instinctively ducked down to avoid any personal injury.

When we looked up, we saw that most of the window had imploded. I looked up at the fading sun, and with an impatient desire to see inside, I sprinted and jumped up onto the ledge.

Josh, lacking my impulsivity, wandered towards me, "What do you see?" He asked.

"It's like an old cinema."

Josh protectively grabbed my ankle as I leant in further, "Steady Benita."

Feeling secure in his grip, I leant in a little further, "Do you see something, what is it?" Asked Josh.

But I leant in not to see, to listen.

"Benita it's getting dark, talk to me, what do you see?" Asked Josh, a controlled urgency in his voice.

I gave him my hand, in a 'be quiet gesture.' He understood, and gave me a moment.

I listened, intently: voices, echoed conversations that I couldn't quite catch. But what I did decipher was laughter, and lots of it.

The echoing merriment began to diminish, but not before I heard something that stunned me!

Assured of what I heard, I turned to Josh, "Let go of my ankle." When he did, I jumped down.

The sun finally dipped behind the warehouse swathing Josh in semi shadow, "You look shocked, what did you see?" He asked.

"I told you, an old cinema. But it's what I heard that's shocked me!"

"Spill it?" Said Josh.

"Dylan's in there, and he's partying big style, slaughter sounds like the last thing on his mind..."