BooksBarbecue
Back The Hollows
Chapters (77)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. PART I
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. PART II
  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. PART III
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. 40.
  48. 41.
  49. 42.
  50. 43.
  51. 44.
  52. 45.
  53. 46.
  54. 47.
  55. 48.
  56. 49.
  57. 50.
  58. 51.
  59. 52.
  60. 53.
  61. 54.
  62. 55.
  63. 56.
  64. 57.
  65. 58.
  66. 59.
  67. 60.
  68. 61.
  69. 62.
  70. 63.
  71. 64.
  72. 65.
  73. PART IV
  74. 66.
  75. 67.
  76. 68.
  77. Acknowledgements

Ellie heard herself mumbling an apology to Bert as she reversed away from the gates. She checked the rearview: the road was empty.

Reverse. Three-point turn. Accelerate away.

Behind her now, at the gate to Annable Farm, more of the pale shapes were gathered, to watch the coward go.

She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t. There’d been nothing she could have done. She had to warn the village. Try and organise some kind of defence. She told herself that. It might even have been true, but part of her refused to believe it.

But that didn’t matter. For now, she drove.

And in the fields on either side of Litch Way, thin white shapes loped alongside the car.

28.

28.

The creatures followed her back across the hill, but she remained unmolested all the way to the village limits. As the Audi passed the WELCOME TO BARSALL sign into the glow of the streetlights, they fell back; when Ellie checked the rearview, she saw them crouching in the road, just outside the light, watching her go. Or whatever they did without eyes. Smelling her fear, maybe, as it receded.

She looked left as she passed Blackfield Park, but to her dismay the white shapes she’d glimpsed there didn’t resolve themselves into patches of snow. There were too many of them, arranged in rows disappearing into the shadows.

She’d have liked to believe she was imagining the sight, but people were leaning out of their windows on Chapel Bank, overlooking the park, staring down at something below.

Somehow, the creatures were already in the village. How they’d managed that didn’t matter for now. At least the light was keeping them back; the closest rank of the things was right up against the park railings, the tips of their long figures straying onto the pavement. No-one, thankfully, had been stupid enough to go over to that side of the road, but there were rubberneckers on the pavement opposite, gawping.

Ellie resisted the temptation to shout out of her window for everyone to go home. She had to think. She couldn’t just start raving about monsters: there was no telling what Thelma Graham had been saying about her, or who might have been listening to it.

Bert. She didn’t want to believe it. She tried to convince herself he might have found a hiding place, like Kate Beck, but knew that wasn’t him. Besides, he’d lived alone; the creatures had surely known the house was inhabited, and wouldn’t have stopped till they’d found him. And she’d heard the gun firing. No. He’d gone down fighting.

Only this morning, he’d been banging on her door and getting her out of bed. He’d been beside her at Barrowman Farm, firing both barrels at the unseen sniper. He’d been by her side, and where’d she been when he’d needed her?