‘Are you sure about this?’ Kirsten said, gazing from the outcrop at the forested valley.
‘There.’ Jonas pointed down to his right.
He flicked the switch of his torch twice. A single flash answered.
‘Klaus.’ Jonas leaned out and checked the cleared strip; two high fences topped with barbed wire. He raised his bow, the arrow arcing towards the torchlight, twine trailing in its wake.
A minute later the thicker rope was being tugged across the gap. Searchlights flicked on, a dog barked.
He clipped on a makeshift harness. ‘We go together.’
He gripped her waist and stepped out.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.