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Back The Bad Place Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. THE BAD PLACE
  3. Contents
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. Acknowledgements
  71. About the author
  72. An Invitation from the Publisher

And right then, Karin knew she wanted to live, she realized she didn’t want to die like Becky, not now, not like this, and the knowledge was like a burst of cool air on her burning face, like a door opening in her mind.

Her friend was gone and she missed her. Karin would never stop missing Becky. But she had told the truth about what she had done, the world would finally know, and it was like a weight lifted from her shoulders – she would endure the consequences.

Ian Carrington’s snarling face swam in her vision. His features seemed to splinter into fragments. She saw one squinting eye, his angry red gums, a flash of an incisor, all swimming behind a starburst of juddering, spinning swirls and shapes on the surface of her eyes. Her neck would snap at any moment and she would be dead.

The door bulged and thudded.

We’re coming, someone shouted. Hang on!

Karin wanted to breathe, more than anything she had ever wanted before. What she did to Becky was a stupid, impetuous, childish thing, born of a moment of madness, and it was wrong. But she didn’t deserve to die, not like this.

I’m so sorry, Becky.

She would never forget what she did, or ever forget her friend.

But I want to live.

She frantically pulled at the pipe but it wouldn’t come away from the wall, and in a panic her fingers found the metal cylinder of the flashlight in her back pocket. She fumbled at it, felt the weight of it in her palm, and with her last ounce of strength lifted it over her head, and smashed it into the side of Ian’s head.

He stepped back in surprise, his twitching hands lifting from her throat; his heels disappeared over the edge of the wooden stair, and then he fell away. She felt the steps judder beneath her feet as he crashed down the stairs, rolling head over heels, his skull hitting the flagstones, and the last thing she saw as he came to a rest was the way his neck jutted at a strange angle.

Just as the door flew open.

And she blacked out.

Goodbye, my darling Bex.

I love you.

62

Michelle was sitting staring into space when she got the call from Alan Manning to say he wasn’t coming back to work.

‘Of course,’ she told him. ‘Really, Alan, take off as long as you like.’

‘I mean I’m quitting, Michelle.’