Back Early Riser
Chapters (53)
  1. Praise for Early Riser
  2. PENGUIN BOOKS
  3. Also by Jasper Fforde
  4. Dedication
  5. Mrs Tiffen could play the bouzouki
  6. Fat Thursday
  7. Jack Logan
  8. Testing time
  9. Cardiff nights
  10. Oliver Tiffen goes hot
  11. Merthyr
  12. Meet Aurora
  13. The John Edward Jones
  14. Over the hump
  15. Talgarth and HiberTech
  16. The Wincarnis
  17. Consulate and Fodder
  18. Marooned
  19. The Sarah Siddons
  20. Room 901
  21. Trip to the Gower
  22. Dream, wake, repeat
  23. Jonesy
  24. Starving in the basement
  25. The Wincarnis
  26. The Consulate
  27. Toccata
  28. HiberTech
  29. Fodder
  30. The Museum
  31. Villains
  32. Truce busted
  33. Something rotten in the winter
  34. Dream again
  35. Dawn and the dead
  36. A remote farm in Lincolnshire
  37. Jonesy
  38. The Farnesworths
  39. Dreamspace
  40. Fired & filing
  41. Charlie Webster
  42. Thumped
  43. H4S radar
  44. The Geraldus Cambrensis
  45. The cylinder
  46. Night in the museum
  47. Night in the museum 2
  48. White-out
  49. Orientation
  50. Dreamspace
  51. The Awakening
  52. Acknowledgements
  53. What’s next onyour reading list?

He’d stopped talking because the electrical power in the Sno-Trac had died, and with it the lights, H4S and engine. The only thing still working was the AM wireless, the dial a dull orange. It was tuned to the Winter Network, and now the engine was off we could hear the music – a crackly rendering of ‘Getting to Know You’. The implication of a Rodgers and Hammerstein track wasn’t lost on Hooke, and he went to switch the wireless off, but the knob broke off in his fingers.

‘The plastic must have been fatigued by the cold,’ I said, but if I thought this situation was in any way good, I was mistaken. The auxiliary heater had died with the power outtage and Sno-Tracs were not well insulated. Without heating they’d match the exterior temperature in less than ten minutes.

‘Bad time to have a breakdown,’ said Hooke, checking all the trips. After cracking a light-stick, he pressed the starter and the compressed air turned the engine but without a restart, and that’s when we felt the vehicle lurch violently to one side. We exchanged looks.

‘It’s dragging us backwards,’ I said. ‘You must have snagged her.’

‘Not for long,’ he replied, his temper up. He selected low reverse, let out the clutch and then pressed the air starter. The compressed air hissed into the engine, turned the motor over without a start but it moved the Sno-Trac regardless, jerkily, and in reverse; he was attempting to run over what was pulling us. There was another lurch, the vehicle lifted as it went over an obstruction, then fell to the ground again and stopped hard; we’d struck a wall or something. Hooke pushed the gear selector into first and pressed the starter again but there was only a faint hiss as the compressed air tank ran out – we were going nowhere.

‘Stay here,’ said Hooke, grabbing the Cowpuncher. ‘Me and it need to get some face time.’

He opened the rear door and the cab was suddenly full of wind-borne snow.

‘Safety line,’ I reminded him, shivering with the sudden cold, and he nodded, grabbed the safety cable, clipped it to his belt and dropped out of the cab and into the blizzard.