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The ten year old autistic boy had followed Tricksy along the road to this father's house. He found where the Wests had walked down from the ridge when they first came to Te Kouka Flats Farm. Instinct made him climb above the farmhouse so that he could look down to observe what was happening. Then, feeling tired at last, he had lain down and gone to sleep.
Lance was woken up by the noise of the ATV. The dawn light was pale grey. Tricksy was warm beside him. She opened an eye and flicked her ears in a way peculiar to German Shepherds.
"Sit, Mr Tricksy," said Lance. He was not hungry. He felt neither hot nor cold. He was not worried but he was concerned. Zinsli was trouble. Lance did not like Zinsli. He had taken his mother away and he had shot the dogs. Why had he spent the night in Greg's house?
"Come, Mr Tricksy," he said as he began to walk to the house. Tricksy accepted his command and walked behind him. For the moment their roles had reversed; Lance was in charge. They walked down the hillside across the long grass. Tricksy's ears pricked. She stopped and growled. She had heard Zinsli on the ATV, returning to the house where he had left Ashleigh and Greg in the kitchen while the Wests, still tied up, were in the lounge room. She could not smell what was happening, only that they were there.
Lance flattened into the long grass. The cattle should have been put in here before now. Lance thought he could handle that chore later, with Tricksy's help. Tricksy lay between him and any danger from Zinsli, flattened but with her ears up like a radar receiver.