Point Blank by Anthony Horowitz

explained and then gone to have a swim. Alex had spent the rest of the evening with the files. He was trying to take in a fake history that spanned fourteen years. There were uncles and aunts, friends at Eton, a whole crowd of people he had to know without ever having met any of them. More than that, he was trying to get the feel of this luxurious lifestyle. That was why he was here now, out riding with Fiona—she upright in her riding jacket and breeches, he bumping along behind.
    They had ridden for about an hour and a half when they came to a tunnel. Fiona had tried to teach Alex a bit of technique—the difference, for example, between walking, trotting, and cantering. But this was one sport he had already decided he would never take up. Every bone in his body had been rattled out of shape, and his bottom was so bruised he wondered if he would ever be able to sit down again. Fiona seemed to be enjoying his torment. He even wondered if she had chosen a particularly bumpy route to add to his bruises. Or maybe it was just a particularly bumpy horse.
    There was a single railway line ahead of them, crossed by a tiny lane with an automatic gate crossing equipped with a bell and flashing lights to warn motorists of any approaching train.
    Fiona steered her horse—a smaller gray—toward it. Alex’s horse automatically followed. He assumed they were going to cross the line, but when she reached the barrier, Fiona stopped.
    ‚There’s a shortcut we can take if you want to get home,‛ she said.
    ‚A shortcut would be good,‛ Alex admitted.
    ‚It’s that way.‛
    Fiona pointed up the line toward a tunnel, a gaping black hole in the side of a hill, surrounded by dark red brick. Alex looked at her to see if she was joking. She was obviously quite serious. He turned back to the tunnel. It was like the barrel of a gun, pointing at him, warning him to keep away. He could almost imagine the giant finger on the trigger, somewhere behind the hill. How long was it? Looking more carefully, he could see a pinprick of light at the other end, perhaps half a mile away.
    ‚You’re not serious,‛ he said.
    ‚Actually, Alex, I don’t usually tell jokes. When I say something, I mean it. I’m just like my father.‛
    ‚Except your father isn’t completely crazy,‛ Alex muttered.
    Fiona pretended not to hear him. ‚The tunnel is about one mile long,‛ she explained.
    ‚There’s a bridge on the other side, then another gate crossing. If we go that way, we can be home in thirty minutes. Otherwise it’s an hour and a half back the way we came.‛
    ‚Then let’s go the way we came.‛
    ‚Oh, Alex, don’t be such a scaredy-cat!‛ Fiona pouted at him. ‚There’s only one train an hour on this line and the next one isn’t due for…‛ She looked at her watch. ‚…twenty minutes.
    I’ve been through the tunnel a hundred times and it never takes more than five minutes. Less if you canter.‛
    ‚It’s still crazy to ride on a railway line.‛
    ‚Well, you’ll have to find your own way home if you turn back.‛ She kicked with her heels and her horse jerked forward, past the barrier and onto the line. ‚I’ll see you later.‛
    But Alex followed her. He would never have been able to ride back to the house on his own.
    He didn’t know the way, and he could barely control his horse. Even now it was following Fiona with no prompting from him. Would the two animals really enter the darkness of the tunnel? It seemed incredible, but Fiona had said they had done it before, and sure enough, the horses walked into the side of the hill without even hesitating.
    Alex shivered as the light was suddenly cut off behind him. It was cold and clammy inside.
    The air smelled of soot and diesel. The tunnel was a natural echo chamber. The horses’ hooves rattled all around them as they struck against the gravel between the ties. What if his horse stumbled? Alex put the thought out of his mind. The leather saddles creaked. Slowly his eyes