Something flew past Ellie’s face, missing by an inch, and she stepped reflexively back. Another object struck her wrist a moment later; she yelped, her hand opened and the flashlight fell into the snow.

The cry provoked a shower of missiles; Ellie flung up her arms to shield her face. Another projectile hit the fallen flashlight’s casing. A loud crack resounded from the X5’s bodywork, then another, and another.

Ellie scooped up one of the fallen missiles; it was white and hard and searingly cold even through her gloves. Snow, compacted into ice.

Glass shattered, and the blue light went out. Ellie ducked; none of the missiles came near her, but two more hit the flashlight casing. More struck the X5; a headlight cracked. But the watchers hadn’t come any closer, even though they outnumbered her twenty to one.

Glass shattered, and the flashlight went out. The grey shapes shifted; maybe they’d edged forward, or simply leaned in. But it was enough; the connection was made. The power had been out at Wakeman Farm and the Bell. Kathleen Beck had said that the lights had failed just before the monsters broke in.

Monsters. Ellie hadn’t known what to believe when she’d heard that description, but it no longer seemed so fanciful. She still couldn’t see them clearly because of the snow and their keeping to the shadows, but what she could make out seemed too impossibly long and thin to be human.

Glass shattered to the X5’s rear. One of the tail lights.

Costumes, she told herself. Masks. A cult, as Milly had said: a pagan survival or revival, orchestrated by the Harpers or some unknown clan of hermits. It sounded ridiculous, but what other explanation was there?

That didn’t matter now. Whoever or whatever they were, her priority was escape.

A headlight shattered and went out. Darkness flooded in across the snow to her left, and the crouched figures moved – fast, scuttling, like huge spiders. Their attention seemed less on Ellie than the light itself. At least for now – once it was out, that might change.

In the car, then, and drive.

Ellie moved forward; her boot crunched in the snow. The creatures’ heads swivelled towards her.

Ten feet to the BMW. But when she moved, what then? Why were they keeping back from the light? Did it hurt them, somehow, or was extinguishing it before they attacked part of a ritual? If the second, stopping Ellie getting away would likely take precedence over strict religious observance, or whatever in hell’s name this was.

More glass broke at the rear of the BMW. One headlight now remained; when that was gone, they’d attack.

And then Ellie remembered, and crouched beside the box she’d hauled from the Land Rover, popping the lid. The creatures’ heads shifted at the sound, and she froze. But the ice pellets kept ricocheting off the X5, and more glass broke.