He took a short-cut through the undergrowth calculating, from the position of the army truck when they'd found it and a conservative speed of fifty miles per hour, the point on the road where they might have hit the man accused of being a zombie.
The road looked no different from any other part. Gravel pressed into hot tar and left for traffic to bed in, muddy ditches on either side filled with weeds and ferns and a short span of brambles and bracken between the ditch and the tree line. He picked up another stick and poked about in the ditch. Rubbish thrown from cars with nothing fresh enough to be relevant.
He recalculated the distance and walked back toward Laverstone another fifty yards. There! A smear on the road, faint and all but washed away by the rain. Was it blood or oil? White couldn't tell without taking a sample for analysis. Ten yards further a twist of black rubber from slammed-on brakes testified to the theory the victim had come out of the woods and been hit, thrown forward and run over. He pulled out his mobile phone and took several photographs. If nothing else they would support Eric's theory.
It wasn't difficult to find the spot where the man had walked through the wood onto the road. The area had a clear path of broken bracken and brambles. White stared back along the path of destruction. He couldn't see anything for the trees, but it was clearly in the direction of Magelight.
White took another photograph and walked back to the car.