She hauled the burner forward. The flames, fed by a constant stream of gas, fluttered but stayed strong. Clare carried the burner with her for a pace, holding it at her side so that it scorched the edge of her shoulder. That pace carried her closer to the bus. It built momentum. Enough momentum that, when she released the burner, it hurtled towards the hollow one towering over the bus door.
They had survived the fire in the shopping centre, but they had not learned to fear it any less. Blackened lips pulled away from yellow teeth as the creatures howled, scattering. The path to the bus was clear.
Clare followed the burner’s trajectory. Their portable fire hit the bus doors, the flames spiking, before falling to the tile floor with a deafening clang.
Nails grazed her shoulder. A hollow screamed as something heavy slammed into it, forcing it away. Clare shoved the bus doors open and leapt inside in one motion. She turned as she hit the driver’s console, ready to pull Dorran in after her.
He carried one of the plastic chairs, and as Clare turned, he smashed it into a hollow that tried to come after him. The plastic cracked. He leapt backwards, into the bus’s aisle, and Clare tried to shove the doors closed.
Fingers appeared in the gap, stopping the door from locking. They squirmed, picking at the plastic and metal. Dorran joined Clare, jamming his shoulder into the door in an effort to force it closed.
“The engine,” he gasped.
Clare let the handle go and reached across the wheel. Beth had left the keys in the ignition. The engine clicked over and caught. Dorran had his back against the door, feet braced against the seats. She tried to count how many faces fought to be seen through the grimy window, but there were too many.
She pressed the wheel. The horn blared, deafening. The hollow outside the bus flinched but refused to back off. Clare ground her teeth as she leaned on the horn again. The door shuddered, the gap widening by an inch, as the overwhelming force drove Dorran’s hold back.
Abruptly, the faces outside the door vanished. The fingers disappeared from around the seal. The latch caught as the door slammed closed, and Dorran drew a quick breath.
“Open!” Beth yelled.
Thank you, Beth. Clare made eye contact with Dorran. He gave a small nod. She hit the horn again to buy them a second of distraction. The door banged open and closed again before Clare released her hold on the horn. Beth, slightly more dishevelled than she had last appeared, leaned against the bus’s dashboard, her eyes flashing. The three of them held there for a brief pause, just breathing, then the scratching, scraping fingernails began to drag across the door and pry at the windows.
“Move.” Beth shoved past Dorran and pulled Clare away from the driver’s seat. “We need to get out of here before they block our exit. Buckle up.”
Clare pulled Dorran alongside her to the chairs. As long as they were out in the open, they could wait for the hollows to lose interest in the bus and leave. But they had inadvertently made camp in the hollows’ nest. The creatures would not grow tired or bored, or be easily distracted inside their home. If they didn’t escape the shopping centre fast, they might not have a chance to leave at all.
Clare struggled to fasten her belt as the engine revved and the bus wheels screeched on the wet tiles. Fingers pulled at the charred boards outside the nearest windows. The bus’s rear shifted as something climbed over it. Feet pounded across the roof. Lightning illuminated Beth’s face, tight and angry. The bus roared backwards. With no clear view behind them, it was impossible to aim. Most of the bus passed through the hole it had already carved, but one corner clipped a pane of still-intact glass, jolting them and causing a hollow to scream as it was bludgeoned off.
“Damn it.” Beth worked her jaw. She spun the bus over the curb and into the parking lot. Clare felt a spike of panic that they were about to hit one of the lightpoles. Then brakes screamed as Beth pulled their momentum to a halt.
Lightning washed over the entrance they had just come through. Creatures swarmed out of the shopping centre. Saliva frothed over their jaws. Bloodshot eyes bulged. Some ran upright, their arms flailing, while others clambered over the broken glass and twisted metal on all fours.
“Damn it, damn it.” Beth hit the accelerator. They swerved past the hollow swarm. Fists beat on the bus’s roof. The hollow outside Clare’s window continued to claw. “So, looks like we’re not just losing the chance to loot the mall, but we’ve given up some of the supplies we already had to boot.”
And who was responsible for making sure the mall was empty? Clare swallowed the bitter words and instead focussed on maintaining her grip on her seat as the bus spun into the street. “We can make do. This won’t be our last opportunity.”
Beth muttered something indistinct. She took another corner tightly, relying on the bus’s beaten front to clip an abandoned car out of their path. “I’m sure you’re happy, at least, since you got to win the argument by default.”
Don’t take the bait. She’s stressed, and she probably feels guilty, and the thanites are making her aggressive. You don’t need to argue.
Dorran’s hand moved over hers and squeezed. Clare took a slow breath, focussing on his fingers, grounding herself and reeling in her frustration and fear.
“We’re not going to shake them.” Beth swung the wheel to avoid a fallen tree. “Roads are too cramped to get up to the kind of speeds we need to outrun them. We’ll have to power down and wait them out.”
Clare hated the idea of sitting in silence for hours while the monsters crawled around the bus, searching for weaknesses, but she could survive it. What worried her more was how much the bus itself might be able to survive. Beth was pushing it harder than she should. If they hit an obstacle they couldn’t get past, or if the engine decided it had given as much as it could and died, she wasn’t sure how easily they could get out of the town.
Beth let the bus slow to a halt in the middle of a street. She hadn’t even turned the engine off when hollows clawed their way over the bus’s front, blocking the windshield. Beth sent them a derisive glare then pulled the shutters down to block them from sight.
Clare unbuckled her seatbelt and felt Dorran do the same beside her. It would be her last opportunity to get comfortable for the next few hours. She would have more room to stretch out on one of the other seats, but that would mean letting go of Dorran’s hand. He ran his thumb over her knuckles, tapping each one lightly, almost playfully, and Clare smiled. She was as comfortable as she was likely to get right there.
Beth exhaled as she settled back in her own seat for a long wait. Clare closed her eyes. She could see about the same whether they were open or shut. She wondered if it would be safe to try to nap. Adrenaline continued to run through her, making her twitchy and tense, but she knew the crash would come soon as it drained away.
Hollows dug around the bus’s edges, chattering and hissing. She could hear one in particular; it came from somewhere behind her, its breathing ragged and wet, occasionally interrupted by thick gulping noises. A meaty, spongy fist slapped against the bus’s side. Long nails scraped over the roof above her head. Meanwhile, Dorran’s fingers continued to move over her hand, gentle and calming, a precious distraction. She moved her own hand in return, tangling her fingers between his, happy to fix her whole attention on tracing the whorls of his palm.
The phlegmy breathing broke with another gulping swallow. It sounded closer than the others. Clearer. Most of the crawlers were muffled by the bus’s walls, but that seemed almost to be coming from behind her ear. Clare opened her eyes but was greeted with pitch blackness. Moving cautiously, trying to avoid rustling her clothes or causing the seat to creak, she moved her spare hand into her pocket where a heavy weight rested. The torch was nestled between the boxes of antibiotics. Clare brought it out, flinching every time the waterproof jacket crinkled. She turned in her seat. Dorran felt her movement and tapped her hand, silently asking if anything was wrong. She couldn’t answer. Instead, she aimed the torch towards the bus’s back a
nd indented its button.
The light blinked on but faded almost immediately. It was enough, though. Enough to see the hollow one huddled in the back seats. Enough to reflect off its bulbous eyes and the quick dart of its tongue across its lips.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Clare’s breath froze as the light died. She’d only had a second’s glimpse, but that had been enough.
The creature crouched on the rear row of seats, on their bed. Four long legs bent oddly out of its waist, unpleasantly thin and elastic as the splayed toes gripped any surface within reach. The front arms seemed short by comparison. They were folded against its bare, sunken chest, fingers held limply but twitching.
We didn’t think to check the bus’s insides. We didn’t have time.
Clare’s hands shook. Her mind spun out of control, trying to understand. It must have gotten into the bus while she was distracted by the hollows coming out of the stores. Or possibly even earlier—they had left the bus unattended while they washed, assuming they were alone in the shopping mall. The door had been left ajar. It would have been easy for a curious hollow to slip inside. And now they were trapped with it, inside a bus that felt far, far too small.
“Clare. Leave the light off.” Beth’s muted voice hissed around them. The hollow’s phlegmy breathing hitched.
Beth hadn’t seen. Neither had Dorran. They had both been facing the bus’s front.
Speaking felt like too much of a risk. She didn’t have a choice. “There’s something in here.”
“What?” Beth stood. Her boots creaked on the floor as she turned to face Clare. “We’re alone. What are you talking about?”
Clare swore internally. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t realised sooner. Just like the hollows couldn’t sense Beth, Beth’s own ability to sense them had been dulled. That was why she’d been so certain the shopping mall was empty.
She shook the torch, but it wouldn’t respond. Beth sighed. A button clicked, and the light above the driver’s seat flashed on.
The hollow rocked from side to side, its four bent legs flexing as its torso moved. Milky blue eyes twitched against the sudden light, and the pupils tried to contract before blowing back to their enlarged dimensions.
Beth swore. Dorran took a sharp breath. He pulled on Clare’s arm, tugging her close. The hollow swayed. Its tongue darted out to taste its lips.
“Hold still. I’ve got it.” Beth reached into the compartment above her seat and withdrew a mallet. She swung it at her side experimentally then began pacing along the bus.
“Wait,” Clare said.
Beth stopped, her lips pulled back in a grimace. “What?”
The hollow continued to sway. Its hands, held close to its bony chest, twitched. But it wasn’t trying to advance. If anything, it seemed to be trying to sink back into the shadows of the rear seat.
It could have attacked while we were driving. Or in those first few minutes we were sitting in the dark. It had plenty of opportunities, but it didn’t, because… because…
Clare spoke to the hollow. “Hello?”
Its eyes flicked towards her then returned to stare at the mallet in Beth’s hand.
Clare’s voice broke as she tried again. “Can you understand me?”
“Clare.” Beth’s voice held a note of warning.
She held up a hand to ask for silence, not moving her eyes from the hollow. “Do you still understand words?”
“No. Clare. What the hell are you doing?”
Dorran continued to hold Clare, one arm around her shoulders in preparation of pulling her out of harm’s way, but his voice was soft, almost soothing. “It may be one of the intelligent ones. It doesn’t seem to want a fight.”
“Does it matter either way?” Beth, muscles twitching in her throat, swung the mallet in a broad arc. “It’s a monster, whether it still has a brain or not.”
“It is not that much different from you.” Dorran took a slow breath, held it for a second, then spoke in a calmer tone. “My apologies. I simply meant that it has not tried to harm us. We should show it compassion, if we can.”
“Oh.” The earlier terseness was replaced with the hard angles of bitter pain. “Right. Show it compassion. Like you’re showing me compassion, right?”
It’s the thanites. Trying to make her pick a fight. Trying to make her angry. Don’t respond. Clare’s throat was choked by a painful lump, and she had to fight to speak around it. “That’s not what he meant, Beth. Please, let’s handle this and talk afterwards, okay?”
“Fine. Whatever. Fine.” Beth threw the mallet aside. It clanged as it hit the floor between two rows of seats. The hollow at the back of the bus flinched, and its swaying intensified while the creatures outside the bus redoubled their efforts to dig through the metal. Clare tried to block out the external noises as she focussed on the figure just a few rows away.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” She tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure the expression came out quite right. “If you can understand me, please give me a sign.”
For two painful heartbeats, the hollow continued to move in unsteady arcs, its sunken body bobbing on top of the four long legs. Then it dipped its head in an odd motion that seemed to be a nod.
Okay. Clare’s hands were sweaty as she held the back of her seat. She kept her voice clear and slow. “You can’t stay on this bus. But as long as you don’t try to hurt us, we won’t hurt you. We can open the door and let you get off.”
The hollow paused its watery breaths to swallow thickly. Its eyes didn’t blink. Clare tried again. “Do you agree?”
Another pause. Then another odd, dipping nod.
Beth leaned against the driver’s seat, her arms crossed, her eyes too bright. “This is a mistake. Let me get rid of it.”
“We’re… We’re not going to be cruel.” Clare didn’t break eye contact with the hollow. “It probably only got onto the bus because it was curious. It wants to get off. We should let it.”
A muffled snarl emanated from the back of Beth’s throat.
Dorran turned on her. “This is for our benefit, not just the hollow one’s. Attack it with a mallet, and you’ll contaminate the bus. Blood is not easy to clean out of fabric.”
Beth pursed her lips, but the pragmatic argument seemed to work on her better than the emotional appeals. She looked at the hollow then at Clare and at the door. “Fine. Fine! Listen closely, monster. You will walk slowly towards the door. I’m sure that won’t be a problem; you have enough legs, don’t you?”
The hollow only swayed, its eyes still held on Clare.
“I’ll open the door when you reach it.” Beth, sounding frustrated, raised her voice. “You’ll step out immediately. And you’ll leave. Understood?”
The hollow gurgled sickeningly.
Clare lifted her eyebrows. “Do you understand?”
Its head bobbed. Clare released a held breath. “Okay. We can do this. Beth, you head to the front of the bus. Dorran and I will stay here. When our… guest is at the door, we’ll bang on the walls to distract the other hollows and give it a chance to slip out. Ready?”
“Ready,” Dorran confirmed, still not moving his arm from around her shoulders.
Beth spat something bitter as she backed towards the door. Clare waited until her sister was in position, then she extended a hand towards the swaying hollow and beckoned. “Okay. You can move now.”
Its tongue darted out, lapping over moist lips. Its eyes flicked from Clare’s, to her beckoning hand, and back again. For a moment, it held its position, and Clare began to doubt herself, to wonder if it had even really understood her. Then one leg extended forward.
Its toes—eight of them—fanned out from its sole, quivering in the air before finding purchase on the aisle. A second leg extended, this time fastening against one of the seat edges, the toes wrapping around the hard plastic for purchase. The torso, still swaying, moved forward.
Clare and Dorran shared a row. She was closest to the aisle, and even t
hough Dorran held her possessively against his chest, the hollow would have to pass within inches of her in order to reach the door.
We can do this. It’s going to work. Clare followed the hollow’s every movement as a third leg scraped along the aisle before finding purchase on a seat’s base. She needed it to work. She needed to know there was a chance for hollow and human to cohabitate, even in a small way, even in isolated incidents. She needed hope.
The hollow was nearly at her side. Dorran, his chest at her back, was so still that she doubted he was even breathing. She could hear his heart, though, thundering, audible even above the incessant rain and irregular scratching nails coming from outside the bus.
The creature’s eyes didn’t leave hers. Clare searched the watery blue orbs. They were barely human any longer; the sagging lids seemed to have recessed behind the eyes, forcing them to protrude. The pupils were dilated, blown out of proportion. The white was overridden by rivers of red veins.
And behind all of that, Clare thought she could still see a glimmer of humanity. The hollow had held on to part of its mind. Not much of it, and it was probably losing more with every day, but enough.
One of the elastic feet gripped the side of Clare’s chair to support the body as it passed. It paused there, so close that Clare had to hold her breath against the smell of slimy skin and decay, so close that she had to fight the urge to pull away from its presence. It was the predator. She was the prey. Her body knew it, and her nerves screamed for her to run, to escape, but she remained still.
The eyes held on to hers. There was the same flicker of humanity. A tiny amount. Not enough. Its jaws opened as it lunged towards her.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The hollow’s open maw aimed for her face. Clare didn’t have time to react; she’d been so focussed on holding still, she hadn’t been prepared to move.
Whispers in the Mist: Black Winter Book Three Page 20