Her head jerked up when she heard the bells. She must be much closer to the village than she expected; the bells sounded clear and near. She counted along with the bell strikes in her head: one, two, three, four, five, then a shift to a different bell in a lower register: one, two. Five thirty. It was five thirty. This was good news; she had plenty of time left. Thank God for village churches and their lovely bells telling time. She had been in the church every Sunday when she grew up, but her little girl times were long past.
She adjusted the strap of the bag she carried slung across her body, and put her hand inside it for the umpteenth time, finding reassurance in the cool metal of the bolt cutter and the heavy duty flash light.
She'd put the flash light back in the bag a half hour ago. It wasn't really light out yet, but it was close enough to dawn, and she knew the area well enough to find her way in the dark.