The Hollow Places Read Online Free PDF Page B

skull,
through, tapping inside his brain, searching out the familiar
pathways.
    “Simon?”
    Rather than
being displaced as one might expect, he felt more vital than ever.
The Creature could see what he could see and it could express its
pleasure or otherwise, but he remained in control. He rocked gently
with the adrenaline rush and attempted to stay calm.
    The old, worn
cushions cradled the sore muscles of his back. The tray, warmed by
the plate, was a comfortable weight on his lap, breathing with him.
His skin buzzed pleasurably, wetly, in the cool air.
    He saw the
worry lines of Sarah's forehead, ridges in sandstone. Her hair no
longer appeared to be a jumble of dirty-blonde curls; each strand
had its purpose and place within an overarching pattern, not
reminiscent of dead cells at all, but of a substance that
effectively caught and reflected the light so it appeared that they
radiated light of their own. Her eyes, chestnut brown with fiery
flecks of amber, like his, glistened with tears.
    She was
disappointed and he wouldn't comfort her. The Creature's
consciousness swelled within him, its gossamer tendrils stiffening,
announcing its desire for yet another delivery. It took up position
within him so swiftly that he didn't have time to prepare for the
night's work ahead. He continued to focus on his breathing, but
couldn't help a stab of anxiety.
    Even serial
killers at their most prolific did not often take people as
frequently as he had done in the last two months. When killers
picked up their pace like this, they left objects behind, they were
seen, people made connections. He knew he was likely to get caught
soon. It would seem that the man he followed last night had already
been following him. Everything was going to shit. Fast.
    The growing
presence of the Creature, however, was a drug, and gradually, he
began to feel invincible, knowing that It would steer him around
the danger. He felt he could handle anything, which was useful,
because anything could happen.
    He turned to
his sister to make an excuse to leave, but he felt the squeeze in
his skull the moment he looked at her. He immediately turned away,
but there was no denying what had happened. The sensation had been
sharp and definite.
    He looked at
her again. She was attempting to keep her emotions in check, as was
he.
    Squeeze.
    There was no
time for explanations or goodbyes.
    The Creature
had chosen her and now he had a job to do.

Chapter
Six
    “We're going out,” said Simon, tempering a headache
that would cripple him if he didn't act on the Creature's
instruction. He stood. “Now.”
    Sarah looked
at her plate, meal not even half-finished, and then back at
him.
    “Dessert,” he
said. “I've had enough of that microwave. I want to buy something
before the shop closes.”
    “That,” she
said, “is the most pathetic lie I've ever heard. You're still
avoiding talking to me. You'll do anything, won't you?”
    “I'm not
avoiding you,” he said. “You're coming with me. Get your warm
coat.”
    “We’re taking
your car, right?”
    “Warm … coat
...” Simon said.
    Her bare feet
thudded against the carpeted stairs, hitting the ones that squeaked
and the ones that didn't indiscriminately. The sound got smaller
and smaller and then he heard her open her wardrobe door, followed
by the clack and clang of hangers. Within moments, she was running
back down the stairs in trainers. Over one arm was the dark green
army jacket he had requested she wear.
    “Okay,” she
said, hopping down the last step. “Let's get this over with.”
    “... Put it on
then,” Simon said.
    “I'll look
like a div,” she replied. She hadn’t worn the coat since Simon had
given it to her. It was all pockets and straps and scuffed, metal
poppers. It had a detachable hood and a worn tag that said it was
authentic, as used by the UK military. “I know you wear these, but
...” Although it was chilly out, it was still technically summer.
Technically, she’d look like a div.