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

The shed, upon which all our hopes depend…

No easy way to climb down; Ellie couldn’t trust the guttering with her full weight. Instead she crouched, then jumped, bending her knees as she hit the ground. The impact shocked through her, but she rolled and came to her feet in an unsteady crouch.

Done it; she’d done it.

Wait.

The flare – where was the flare?

It smouldered in the snow and grass a few feet away. Two pallid spider-shapes scuttled towards her; she snatched up the flare, and they halted.

Behind you; don’t forget to check behind you.

Ellie swung round, sweeping the flare in an arc. White shapes crouched all over the lawn, but only the two nearest her, as far as she could tell, had moved. So far. And none, thankfully, barred her path to the shed.

And if the shed’s empty, if there’s nothing you can use? What then, Ellie? How do you get back to the others?

She wouldn’t think about that. They’d work out something.

Or they’ll leave you behind. Less risk that way.

“Fuck off,” she muttered aloud.

The white things remained still. The two that had advanced towards her had assumed those familiar crouching postures again.

Ellie took a deep breath, then dashed for the shed.

She didn’t see or hear the creatures behind her move, but knew they had. Up ahead, those on either side made no move to block her way, but their long fingers splayed outwards through the snow, then curled in tightly, balling into fists. One raised a hand.

Ellie understood, an instant before a projectile launched from behind her flew past her ear. Another struck her shoulder, hard and stinging; she stumbled as a third clipped the back of her head. The creature up ahead of her wound its arm back and threw; the chunk of ice struck her in the shoulder, her hand opened and she dropped the flare. When she dived to grab it, more ice-chunks hit her. One glanced off her cheek; another skimmed her forehead. Were they going for her eyes? In her peripheral vision, she saw them closing in. She shut her eyes, pawing for the flare.

Loose snow sprayed into her face as she scrabbled. Like dogs digging, they were trying to throw it over the flare, put it out so they could get at her. She pulled another flare from her belt, took off the cap and struck it; it caught, thank God, first time. Brandishing it, Ellie made for the shed, head down and tucked behind her raised left forearm.