24 Hours Later Part 2

They took the horses out in the early afternoon, riding without destination along the high ridge where the sheep pastures met the woods.

The air was clean and sharp with the scent of crushed fern and damp earth. Spring had arrived late in the uplands, but the hawthorn was finally breaking into white blossom along the stone dykes, and the birch trees were hung with pale, delicate leaves.

They rode at a walking pace, Eleanor letting her mare choose her footing while Ernest rode half a stride behind.

"This valley is becoming dangerously familiar," Eleanor remarked, turning in her saddle as they reached the crest of the hill.