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

So: back to Barsall, liaise with Tom, and plan the next move. Whatever happened, chances were she was going back to Thursdale again. She climbed back into the Land Rover, and reached for her AirWave.

13.

13.

“Jess,” said Liz, “make us all a brew.”

The girl dashed away from the wall towards the kitchen range. Keira, more from habit than anything else, feinted a swipe at her as she went.

“Quit it,” snapped Liz. “No time for that now.”

She sighed, unfastened her coat and hung it over the back of the chair, then sat and began to roll herself a cigarette. She normally preferred tailor-mades, but always kept a tin of baccy and papers in case she ran out. She hadn’t, but it gave her fingers something to do, and that relaxed her.

Paul mumbled sulkily. “Pardon?” Liz glared.

For a moment, she thought he’d pretend to have said nothing, but instead he scowled. “What was I supposed to do?”

He always sounded like he was whingeing, and doubly so just now, but he had a point – he’d done as he was told and checked the Bell out. Nobody else’s fault the Famu-whatsit girl hadn’t been able to keep her legs together last night. They’d have gone screaming to the police, and Liz didn’t want to see Ellie Cheetham’s face again any time soon.

She licked the cigarette paper, sealed it, then tore a piece of cardboard from the Rizla packet for a roach. If she didn’t see Cheetham’s face in the next two days, she never might again, not if those markings in the Hollows told the truth. But even if they hadn’t been seen clearing the roads, it wouldn’t take Cheetham long to guess who had.

Yesterday, the day before, Liz would still have been raging about that. But not today. The rules had changed. They’d worse than the pigs to worry about.

She poked the roach into one end of the cigarette, sparked up and took a long deep drag, held it then breathed out. First fag of the day, always the best; after that it was all diminishing returns. “So. Looks like we’ll have callers soon.”

“Fuck,” muttered Keira.

“We’ll handle it,” said Liz.

Keira stared. “How? The pigs are gonna be round – what you gonna do, shoot ’em?”

Liz shrugged.

“Have you gone fucking –”

Liz stared Keira down, daring her to finish. Keira looked away; Liz had known she would. “Sorry.”

“You don’t believe it yet,” Liz said. “That’s all right, Keira. Don’t blame you for that. It’s a lot to take in. Wasn’t easy for me, either. Paul, fetch the scanner.”

Paul rooted in a kitchen drawer, took out a radio scanner and plugged it in. He switched it on, but all they heard was a mush of static. “It’s fucked.”