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 craned her neck to see over the rest of the group, and saw why he’d picked the next roof to stop at. One of Hollybeck Row’s residents, Stanley Riggott – always a rum turkey – had begun a loft conversion on his home but expanded it into a full third storey, complete with a flat roof. That had been the fruit of a year-long running battle over planning permission, and a good deal of dissatisfaction from his neighbours about the inconvenience, not to mention the appearance of what had been locally dubbed “Riggott’s Folly”. (The words Bloody eyesore had been uttered more than once.)

Ellie had seen their point and struggled to see Stanley Riggott’s – why anyone would want their house to look like a flat-topped stone box was beyond her – but tonight she felt deeply grateful for him for giving their little group a much-needed respite. The “drop” Ernie had warned about was only a couple of feet, the flat being only just below the level of a normal roof’s apex. She climbed down, then straightened up, wincing as her back protested.

Flames poured upwards from the surgery, where the roof had completely fallen in; Ellie couldn’t tell if or how far the fire had spread, but the firelight shone widely enough to illuminate the immediate surroundings, including the roof of Riggott’s Folly, and most of Hollybeck Row. The far side of the road was in shadow, and in it those now-familiar shapes crouched motionlessly, watching. Or whatever they did, having no eyes.

Ellie crouched beside the others. “We need to keep as quiet as we can,” she said, thinking of how those eyeless heads had swivelled at the softest crunch of her boots in the snow. Her voice was hoarse from the smoke. “Far as I can tell, they hunt by sound. So with any luck, they don’t know where we are yet.”

No one spoke; the only responses were dull, dispirited nods. Ellie could still hear people screaming, but they were growing fewer and fewer in number, dying out in the night. The fire gnawed and crackled. And in the shadows at the edge of the flames those pale, tattered shapes waited, patiently, for them to die down.

33.

33.

No moon, no stars. The section of Hollybeck Row lit by the fire was an island in a black and teeming sea. Three other fires – one already waning and shrinking down – were the only other objects in that gulf. Ellie tried to guess their positions, but in the total darkness it was hard to be sure.

Other than them she couldn’t see a single light, even in the distance: the creatures had obviously knocked the power out somehow, but over how wide an area? As Milly had pointed out, no-one had cleared the North Road that morning; maybe the Becks and Famuyiwas hadn’t been last night’s only victims, or Barsall the only place under attack.