The pebble smacked into a stable door on the opposite side of the alleyway. A horse whinnied. From the loft above, a sleepy groom called out in anger, “Oi! Who’s there?” Trevor looked at Ash. Ash looked at Trevor. They each mouthed the same word at the same time. Run. Once safely down the lane and around the corner, Trevor put his hands on his knees and panted. “I’m”—huff—“still working on my aim.”
