by Peter Laws
He looked back at her, biting his lip. ‘He just told me to talk to Zara personally. He wants me to reassure her about church.’
‘And how are you going to do that? Give her a copy of your book?’
He frowned at her. ‘Steady on.’
‘I’m sorry. But look, I’ll get an officer up to the farm to inform her, and I’ll keep an eye on this. I’ll be back to see Mr East too, but let’s be honest … it’s not like we’re tracking down a mystery murderer here. I have a church full of witnesses who saw Micah attack his dad, and yes, we’ll follow up this Old Moat Farm thing. But this is turning into what I’ve suspected all along. A tragic domestic case which is, granted, a little more dramatic than the hundreds of others that cross my desk each year … but essentially, it’s the same. Okay?’ She waited. ‘Okay?’
Eventually, he nodded.
‘Besides,’ her face softened, ‘maybe we should listen to what he did say in there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean go back to your family, Matthew. Hang out with them, laugh with them, spend time … that’s sure as shit what I’m going to do. I’m going to call my daughter.’
He smiled at her. ‘Good for you.’
‘It’s been an intense couple of days, for both of us.’ She started to button up her coat. ‘I reckon it’s time to turn the dial down a bit.’
They passed the waiting room, where East’s nurse was informing the church women that the good Reverend wasn’t available for visitors, after all. She did this elegant spin and tapped her fringe into place to walk back, leaving an explosion of groans and hands against brows behind her. ‘Quick,’ Bowland said. ‘Let’s leave before they revolt.’
He and Bowland stepped into the lift, silent until it started to hum downwards.
‘That’s odd,’ Matt said suddenly, as the doors closed over. ‘Miriam wasn’t with them. She was all over this place when he first came in.’
‘Um … she was shot today.’
‘Oh, she’s been discharged.’
‘Then she’s probably recuperating at home.’ She pulled a small umbrella from her bag, and the gesture of it, the slap of it against her hand, was her way of closing the conversation. ‘You should carry one of these at all times. Especially with this psycho weather.’
‘My kids bought me one, but I keep leaving it in the car.’
‘Not much point in that. You know they say there might be tornadoes this month.’
‘Yeah, I read that.’
‘Little ones … but still. Tornadoes in the Home Counties. Imagine that.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
It was dark outside. Not that it was fully night. It was actually late afternoon, so the moon was yet to arrive. The day was dark, simply because the end of the world was coming.
This was the darkness that comes when the clouds get organised. When they thicken themselves and join hands in the air, because they have instructions from Jesus to block God’s sun out, ready for a son to dawn. But paradise wasn’t here just yet, which meant the trees, the stream, the house and the hill were now a very dark, very stony grey.
They’d asked Ever to decide where they should do it. That was amazing, really. To be in charge of a decision like that. Both Mum and Milton said it should happen on Comfort Hill, right in front of the chapel. But Ever said they should kill the Hollow in his favourite spot by his own stretch of stream. If they did it up on the hill, he told them, the light and smoke would draw the attention of the Hollow towns. The fact that he’d considered that factor seemed to impress everybody no end. Wisdom was growing, it turned out. Along with the courage that was making his chest shiver more than ever. Enough to make his little hands shake so much he had to hide them in his pockets.
Now the decision was made and the prayers were over, they all stood as a solemn little crowd, listening to four sounds blend into one. The first was the trickle of the stream, a sound he’d always loved; the second, the high-pitched whistle of a very cold wind; the third was the deep groan of thunder, and finally there was the fourth sound. The weeping and whimpering from the lump on the floor. Milton had found some thick black tape. As soon as he’d dragged it from the shed, he’d wrapped this tape around the Hollow’s eyes. Thankfully then, nobody was going to fall into its hypnotic traps.
It was very reassuring that the eyes were covered because when the Hollow died in the car, it had been staring at them all. This made the grown-ups way too twitchy and intense for Ever’s liking. Shouting at each other, falling back into worldly ways. Now this one had its eyes covered, his family were themselves again – all calm, if a little sad, that the world had come to this. Prosper explained how the killing would work and it seemed, well … straightforward. They’d kept it easy for his first step into maturity.
Prosper slowly walked towards the Hollow on the floor and started speaking to it. He used his gentle voice. The tone for compliments and kind, treasured blessings. ‘Hey, lost one. It’s time to see light.’
A murmur came, a movement.
‘That’s it. Sit up straight. You’re gonna help us heal the world.’ Prosper nodded to Dust, and they both tugged under the Hollow’s armpits, so its spine was flat against the thin tree trunk. Then Milton flung a rope over, which uncoiled like a snake in mid-air. Dust looped it around the tree, but he did it way too slowly, so Prosper pushed him aside and took over. He set the Hollow in place really tight and well.
Everybody gasped when the Hollow spoke. It had that bubbling, rasping voice they all seemed to use. ‘Who are you?’
‘We’re the honest ones. The ones that never changed.’
‘I’ve got nothing to give you, all right?’ Its mouth flapped like a hole, underneath all that thick eye-tape. ‘I’ve got nothing worth taking.’
‘That doesn’t matter. We want to give you something.’
The mouth curled. ‘Give me what?’
‘Freedom … from your condition. You know I’m a big believer that when a Hollow’s set free it gets the chance to be born again one day. Back how it was. A fresh start. Isn’t that right, Milton? Don’t I always say that?’
‘Yep,’ he said. ‘He always says that.’
‘But for that, we need Jesus back …’ Prosper stroked the Hollow’s shoulder. ‘And who knows … maybe you’ll help us build a wonderful new world, someday. The Father gone for ever, the Son in charge. That’d really be something, wouldn’t it?’
‘Let me go,’ the Hollow said, ‘for the love of Christ.’
‘Yes!’ For the first time, the reverent atmosphere shifted and Prosper chuckled to the others. ‘See, Ever? It knows what it needs, and that’s good enough for me. I think it’s time to let it go.’ He nodded a signal to Milton and turned back to the heap on the floor. ‘Did you hear that, Hollow? We’re going to do exactly what you’ve asked. We’re going to let you go.’
‘You are?’
Milton hauled a canister over, then he lifted it.
‘Yes. Because you said his name. You said the name of Christ.’
A sobbing thank-you came from the Hollow but the mouth that was giving out gratitude was quickly filled with the gushing liquid from the petrol can. Panicked, it tried to close its mouth, but Prosper shoved his fingers right inside, teeth scraping his hand, then pressed hard until the jaw clicked down with an aubible snap. ‘Fill it,’ Prosper said. So Milton kept glugging more petrol.
Dust wasn’t watching any of this. He was over by the stream on his haunches, fingers trailing in the water, but Ever found it impossible to look away. The smell of petrol stole the air, and so, in time, did the wet, gulping screams. Because Hollows aren’t stupid. They knew what petrol could do. It quickly started vomiting, and the screams of ‘why’ turned into painful retching. In fact, it became so hysterical that Prosper nudged Milton to pull out his roll of black gaffer tape. He tore a strip off and slapped it right across the Hollow’s mouth, trapping the petrol inside. Black tape across the mouth, black tape across the eyes. Now the only part
of his face on show was a pointy nose sticking out, and a crop of petrol-wet hair sprouting up top.
‘Did you bring them?’ Prosper looked up. ‘Hey. Dust. You listening? I said have you got them?’
Dust pulled the matches from his pocket and stared at the box. Then he said something that was very confusing, in a tone that Ever wasn’t used to. There was a desperation there. He turned his head, so that his ponytail fell against his cheek, and he whispered to Prosper, ‘What if there’s another way?’
Prosper froze, then he leant close to Uncle Dust and said, ‘You know full well there is. Are you saying you want to do that instead, because we could do that right now, you know …’ He turned his eyes to Ever. ‘We could take the other path right—’
‘No, I don’t mean … I … mean … perhaps if we pray …’
Prosper snatched the box from Uncle Dust. ‘Go back to the farmhouse, right now. Wash your face … and your eyes especially. You must have looked at the Hollow in the car for too long.’
Dust stood up finally, looked at Ever and seemed to reach for him.
‘Hey,’ Prosper shouted. ‘I said back to the farmhouse.’
Ever tried to smile. ‘And wash your face, okay? And Uncle Dust? Really scrub it, and you’ll be better.’
Uncle Dust stared at Ever, then he closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t look at the world any more. Ever watched him trudge away.
‘Okay,’ Prosper turned back to him. ‘Remember … the light came into the world and overcame the darkness … but the darkness could not understand it. Jesus is the light, son. So, share the light. Set this Hollow free.’
He told everybody but Ever to step well back, then Prosper pulled out the match. He struck it and it fizzed into life. He lit the rag on the end of Ever’s stick, but the actual dropping of the stick … that was for Ever to do. For a moment Ever looked at the dancing ball of light and thought that maybe Uncle Dust was right after all. Maybe there was some other way. But when he turned to him for advice, Dust wasn’t there. He’d already crossed the ridges of the field and was back at the farmhouse. He got there so quickly, he must have run.
‘Rain’s coming, Ever. Throw it now,’ Mum said, and when she saw him staring back at Uncle Dust she added, ‘You’re braver than him, Ever.’
Milton had poured a little stream of petrol in a long line from the Hollow, just so they wouldn’t be too close when it finally lit up.
‘Now,’ Prosper said. ‘Avi, Avi, lama kataltani.’
What would happen if he refused? Ever wondered. If he told them he didn’t—
Prosper shoved his shoulder and Ever dropped the stick. The ball of light just fell from his hands, like the earth was tugging it downwards.
Faces lit up with a flash and the little stream of fire raced and crackled towards the Hollow. Then the fire line hit home with a huge wooosh of sound. It sounded like the flapping of one single, giant wing, whooshing across them all and leaving a panicked scream in its wake. It seemed to rise in pitch after each desperate breath. They gasped as the heat hit their faces, then the sky joined in, because streaks of lightning were now dancing across the horizon. Too many to count. A moment later, a loud smack of thunder rattled heaven. Prosper pointed to the clouds and said, ‘Hear that? That’s the door to paradise cracking open, just a little. We’ll kick the bugger wide open soon.’
The Hollow screamed again, only this time the tape had burnt away, so that flames shot out of its mouth. That was terrifying enough, but the absolute scariest part was the way its legs seemed to kick in and out in weird spasms, like it was climbing an invisible ladder. To heaven perhaps, and hopefully rebirth. That’s what Ever told himself as everybody’s lips pressed together, as hands clasped hands to make a chain. They hummed the melody to a sweet hymn. Jesus, Jesus, your name is like honey on my lips. The music turned the screams into tiny sparks of light that twisted up into the dark air. Then the Hollow was silent, and Ever felt a fat raindrop slap hard against his nose. This was signal enough. The Father was trying to put the fire out. One last-ditch attempt.
Prosper found this hilarious. He chortled to the sky and said, ‘Bit late for that now, isn’t it?’ Then he looked at them all and whispered eagerly, ‘Notice how the Father’s getting weaker and slacker, now that our faith’s up? I’m telling you, this is going to work.’
‘It’s dead,’ Milton said, ‘praise Jesus …’
‘See, Ever? You can do these things. You’re gifted at it …’ Prosper smiled then turned to Milton. ‘You might as well take the head, now.’
Milton leant over and grabbed the axe. It was sitting in the grass, but then the sky flashed again, and rain started to hammer off their shoulders. This would usually have been a cue for them to go running and giggling back to the farmhouse. But today they waited and watched Milton start whacking. After a series of smacks, and a few moans from the others, Ever heard an odd little series of thuds on the wet grass as the still-burning head rolled off. He didn’t look at it. He didn’t want to.
‘Today we’ve seen that the end is almost here,’ Prosper called out above the thunder, as Milton tried to yank the axe from the tree. ‘They’ve started coming for us, they’ve tried to take our children. And if we wait much longer, they’ll be on our land, and in our house. And all they want is to make us forget who we are. To forget the truth.’
The rain hit hard, but it wasn’t putting the Hollow out. Not completely, anyway.
Milton had to shout over the rain and thunder now, looking at each of them in turn. ‘And if they drag us into their world, we’ll be back with every monster who ever beat us, or raped us, or chained us up, or slaughtered the ones we love.’ He looked across at Milton when he said that. ‘And they’ll make you forget her. You’ll move on, and you’ll let it be. Do you really want to betray her like that, old man? Do you want to let them win?’
Milton squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, ‘Never.’ He said it in a whisper.
‘Well, you don’t have to, cos Jesus came to bring light to the world and he’s made us the light-bringers. Just look at how even this little symbol is changing the atmosphere. Just think when we do this for real because look … Ever here is ready to fight for our lives.’ Thunder boomed, right on cue, then he clamped both wet hands onto Ever’s shoulder. ‘Round of applause, for Ever. You did it, son!’
Wet hands slapped against each other, as the final flames died under the rain. Then Prosper hoisted Ever up, against his hip. He never did that, because that’s what Uncle Dust always did. His hip felt much sharper, like the bone was broken in there, and Ever could smell the stale hum of his sweat, and he could see the strange bulge of his eyeballs. ‘But we have to do it soon.’
‘How soon?’ Mum whispered.
‘How soon do you think?’ Prosper laughed. ‘We leave tonight.’
‘Praise be,’ Milton said. ‘Praise be.’
Prosper carried Ever all the way home, his chin resting on his shoulder. It meant that all the way back Ever was facing the dead, headless Hollow and the smoke-filled tree. He suspected that Prosper carried him like that on purpose, just so he could look at what he’d done. It was too dark to make out any of the Hollow’s features, but there were pockets of light and sparkles coming from its chest. Latent fire perhaps, or the regeneration of a soul that he’d helped to save. It was the latter, Ever decided. Or hoped.
‘I’m proud of you, Ever, and Hope … Hope’s going to be over the moon.’ Prosper creaked him up on to the porch steps. ‘Just one more of those and we’re done. But we have to travel for it.’
‘Are we really leaving the valley?’
‘Yep, but you’ll be safe, don’t you worry. Let’s just get some food before we set off.’
They hurried inside, stinking of smoke, and Ever rushed upstairs to wash his hands. He found Uncle Dust on the landing, rubbing his face with a towel.
‘Did you scrub your eyes? Did you get it all out?’
Dust just stared at Ever, then out of the window at the t
ree. A swirl of smoke still curled into the air.
‘Uncle Dust? Are you okay?’
‘Mm-hmm.’
‘So, how come you didn’t even watch?’ Ever said. Hurt now. ‘You didn’t stay to see me do it.’
‘I had to come back to the house. Prosper said.’
‘Did you watch from the window?’
He shook his head, slowly.
Ever’s voice started to quiver. ‘You aren’t even proud of me, are you … of how brave I’m being?’
Dust looked at his feet and pulled in a long breath.
‘Why are you angry with me, I’ve done nothing wrong—’
Dust immediately pushed himself from the window, then dropped to the floor. ‘I’m not angry with you. Not at all.’
‘So why are you crying?’
Dust sighed and put his arms around him. ‘I guess I’m just scared.’
‘Well don’t be. Cos the fear you’ve got inside yourself isn’t really fear. That’s courage bubbling up. That’s Jesus.’
Dust grew stiff in his arms.
‘So we should go downstairs and get some hot food. It’s a big journey ahead.’
Dust pulled back and looked at him. For the first time, he smiled. It wasn’t the beaming glow of his usual grin, far from it, but it looked like the gentle upturn of a man reaching for hope. ‘You know something … you’re why I believe. You’re my evidence.’
Ever smiled, not really understanding what that meant.
‘I guess it was just that Hollow in the car. Guess I caught its eyes for a little too long, but look’ − he popped his eyes open and shut a few times, a theatrical blink − ‘I’m all scrubbed up now.’ He sniffed his final tear away and pushed himself to his feet. ‘So yeah, let’s get some food.’
Ever took one last look through the window. The smoke ladder was reaching high up into heaven, slowly starting to vanish. Wow, Ever thought. I saved a Hollow today. I saved a soul. Then he turned to head down the stairs where he saw one more thing. Something that startled him. It was Milton, standing at the bottom of the steps. It looked like he’d been watching them both, the whole time.