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

Something – someone – slammed into Ellie and knocked her sideways into the tunnel wall. Then there was a flash and a sound of thunder and Jess flew backwards, her chest and face splashed red.

Shotgun, Ellie realised, and flashed her torch down the tunnel to see Liz Harper rising to her feet, teeth bared, screaming as she worked her gun’s slide to fire again. The weapon was already aimed at Ellie. She fumbled for the Ithaca, knowing already she was too slow, too late.

But then the ground rumbled again, louder by far than before, and the tiny section of unblocked tunnel vibrated like a tuning fork. Dust and rocks and old roots showered down on them; Liz stumbled sideways, her gun firing wild into the ceiling.

The vibration, Ellie realised, sickness in her guts, was from below. The ground underfoot was not only shaking: it was sagging. Bowing. Giving way.

A moment of silence came, when she dared to hope it’d stopped.

“We’re gonna be okay,” said Madeleine Lowe, calmly, clearly and with the fullest conviction imaginable.

And then Liz Harper screamed “Fucking die”, and racked her shotgun’s slide once more.

And then the floor collapsed, and Ellie was screaming like everyone else as they fell into an empty blackness, seemingly without end.

59.

59.

Reuben growled, then began to bark. To Noel’s left, Ernie Stasiolek fitted Ellie’s shotgun to his shoulder; to his right, Laura Caddick aimed her own gun. Then the dog stopped barking and the camp was silent. With a soft thump, the first turf hatch flew open. Even in the gloom Noel saw the scrawny white limbs groping out.

Another dull thump; another. More long, grublike forms emerged. In seconds they’d be swarming in earnest, and the jerrycans would be obscured by their shapes.

Noel aimed at the nearest can and squeezed the trigger. He heard a clanging thud as the bullet hit its mark, before the boom of Laura’s shotgun blotted it out. Another can jumped and spun, torn open and glugging its contents onto the ground.

Ernie held his fire while Noel and Laura methodically blasted the canisters. With the chokes removed, Laura’s gun fired wide sprays of shot, and one of the blurred white shapes spun backwards, before climbing back onto all fours and creeping forward again.

“Ernie!” Laura shouted.

“On it,” he said.

The white, ragged horde rushed forward. Ernie fired, and a single red point of light shot upwards on a thin pointing finger of smoke. It shone for a moment like a low red star, then dropped back down, fading; by the time it fell among the wriggling white shapes onto the petrol-sodden ground it was a dully glowing ember, but that was enough.

There was a sudden brilliant flash and a warm wet breath on Noel’s face as snow evaporated with a sound like a gasp. And then the screaming started.