The Fearless Read Online Free PDF Page A

yanking open the back door. ‘Get in, quick.’
    I scrambled in next to Sol, who was sitting bolt upright. In the front, Mrs Brightman was gazing out through the windscreen. She didn’t look round as Mum clambered in too and sat with her arms across her bump, bent over.
    ‘Mum,’ I said as Mr Brightman slammed the door and got back into the front. ‘
Mum
. Are you OK?’
    Then I heard a ratcheting sound from the front of the Range Rover. Mr Brightman was holding a gun with a long double barrel.
    ‘Everyone strapped in?’ he said as he opened the window next to him a few inches. ‘This could be a bumpy ride.’
    I quickly fastened my seatbelt, and helped Mum with hers.
    ‘I’ve locked the doors,’ Mr Brightman said. ‘Everyone hold on, OK?’
    He twisted the keys in the ignition, revved the engine, and we jolted forwards. Even with my seatbelt on, I had to cling to the edge of the seat. The Range Rover bounced down the potholed lane, Mr Brightman steering with one hand and pointing the gun out of the window with the other.
    Suddenly, a shape jumped in front us, silhouetted in the headlights. The Fearless woman. There was a thump and the Range Rover skidded sideways. Sol, his mum and I screamed. Mr Brightman swore and yanked on the steering wheel, never slowing. He fired the gun out of the window once, twice. ‘
Simon, slow down!
’ Mrs Brightman shrieked at him.
    ‘Slow down?’ he yelled. ‘Are you crazy, woman?’
    He fired again, and at last, we reached the road. Mr Brightman put the gun down on the floor between the seats. I sat back, trembling.
    To start with, the road was empty, but not for long. As we drove, we started to see more vehicles – cars, vans, even buses and lorries – heading in the opposite direction.
    ‘Simon, don’t you think we should be going north too?’ Mrs Brightman asked as Sol and I twisted round to see if anyone was following us, and saw nothing but the dark, empty road behind us. ‘If the Fearless have come up from the coast—’
    ‘Diane,
look
at them,’ Mr Brightman said, indicating the slowly-moving lines of traffic on the other side of the road, the vehicles’ headlights shining brightly into the Range Rover. ‘They’re going nowhere, and the Fearless’ll pick them off like flies. Hope is ready. All we have to do is get there.’
    I gazed out of the window at the vehicles on the other side of the road, trying to process the knowledge that I’d never see Dad again; that the life I’d always known had come to a sudden, brutal end. There was still part of my brain that kept insisting all of this was a dream, and that soon, I’d wake up back in my own bed, and nothing would have changed.
    The inside of the Range Rover filled with dazzling light. I saw a pair of headlights on our side of the road, coming straight towards us. Mr Brightman swore and hauled on the wheel. The other car swerved too, just in time to avoid ploughing into us, and bumped off the road into the ditch. ‘Idiot,’ Mr Brightman snarled.
    ‘Cass,’ Sol whispered. It was the first time he’d spoken since Mr Brightman rescued me and Mum. ‘What did they look like? The Fearless, I mean?’
    I swallowed. ‘Like – like ordinary people,’ I whispered back.
Except for the eyes
, I reminded myself.
Don’t forget the eyes.
    A shiver wrenched down my spine.
    Mr Brightman had been right about the traffic on the other side of the road. By the time we reached the motorway it had stopped moving altogether. People were sounding their horns, but there was nowhere they could go. We kept having to swerve to avoid people driving up our side, and at one point, we passed a van that had crashed into the central reservation, its front caved in, another car all the way up the steeply sloping verge opposite with its windows smashed and its tyres shredded. We were the only people who seemed to be going south.
    Then I started to see them: shadows and shapes, trying doors and thumping their fists against windows.