Davey was amazed to see the identity of their attacker.
Taking care to avoid the splinters of wood around the bullethole in the wall, he pressed his eye to the spy hole.
He was stunned into silence when he saw a six foot tall panda with pink and green fur.
‘Whatchoo looking at?’ The panda said, the words distorted by the fat cigar poking from its jaws.
Davey took another look and saw a baseball cap wedged onto it’s head.
Then the panda was gonna with terrifying speed.
It appeared like some surreal nightmare in the doorway to the barn.
It had an assault rifle in each hand.
He moved to run but it seemed his feet were glued to the hay strewn across the floor.
The panda squinted through the cigar smoke.
‘Any last words?’ He scowled.
Davey shook his head desperately trying to summon the energy to move.
But it was too late; the bullets started to fly.
His only defence was to scream.
‘Davey it’s OK,’ Deborah said. ‘It’s OK.’
He looked up and saw his mother’s face above him.
The smell of frying bacon and percolating coffee blended together to form a heady cocktail.
He looked around and found he was in his bedroom.
His giant toy panda had fallen onto him. He thrust it anyway in utter panic.
He looked around, saw his King Solomon doll, huge with a black hooded robe, big red beard and one missing eye.
He jolted when he saw the pair of cuddly rats and the matchstick model of the gold church on his desk.
‘Shhh… it’s OK,’ his mam said. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Just one heck of a bad dream,’ Davey smiled.