The String Diaries Read Online Free PDF Page B

whereabouts. Hours earlier he had made Hannah promise not to tell him which of the safe-houses she was heading for. It meant he was less able to betray her, less likely to endanger them.
    Surely no one could have followed them here? She would have spotted their headlights. It would have been suicidal to attempt the winding mountain roads without them. Unless, of course, they had other means to follow.
    She needed to think. Act.
    It was pointless trying to pretend that nobody was home. Anyone standing outside the porch would see the glow of candlelight spilling into the hall. And she knew that whoever this intruder was, he – it would be a he , she was certain of that – would not be diverted simply because she refused to answer the door.
    While it felt monstrous, she thought Leah was probably safer in the car for now, wrapped in the darkness behind the house. If only she had locked the Discovery’s doors.
    Hannah disengaged her hand from Nate’s. She moved to the doorway of the unlit hall. Stepped through it. Kept close to the wall, balancing on the balls of her feet. All the while her fear maintained a physical presence in her chest, forcing her to take quick shallow breaths.
    Enveloped in shadow, she crept across bare wooden floorboards. Past a staircase leading to the first floor. Towards the end of the hall.
    The air here was frigid after the warmth of the kitchen. Beneath her feet, the boards flexed, threatened to creak. Ahead stood the front door. Solid oak, except for a bulbous glass pane. On each side, leaded half-windows allowed a trickle of moonlight to pool on the floor.
    Hannah eased closer until she had a view through the nearest window out to the porch.
    No one stood outside.
    She craned her head further. Held her breath. Kept the rest of her body concealed. She now had a clear view of the entire front drive. Still no sign of their intruder. But something else. Something just as frightening.
    An ancient Land Rover Defender now stood on the gravel a few yards from the door. This close, she could hear the tick of its engine as it cooled.
    Claws of panic punctured her skin, clenched her intestines. Twisted. Whoever the driver of the Defender was, if he wasn’t outside the front of Llyn Gwyr, he was probably moving around the side of the farmhouse.
    Back towards the Discovery.
    And Leah.
    A moan escaped her. Breaking cover, all sense of stealth forgotten, she sprinted down the hall to the kitchen.
    ‘ Han! ’
    On the sofa, Nate had removed the oxygen regulator. His face was translucent. A death mask. As she passed him he reached out and his fingers closed on her wrist, his strength as delicate as cobwebs. When he pulled her to him, his voice was little more than breath against her cheek. ‘Pantry . . . left shelf.’ His eyes rolled with the effort of talking. ‘Shotgun. Loaded last time I checked.’
    ‘Leah’s outside.’ Hannah heard herself sob. A wretched sound. She was losing her husband. Perhaps her daughter too.
    ‘Go.’
    She stepped towards the pantry door. Sensing movement, she glanced around at the kitchen windows and saw something butt its face up against the glass.
    The candlelight had transformed the windows into flaming mirrors, reflecting everything except what lay directly behind them. In the window beside the door, a large dog stared in at her, front paws resting on the sill. Hannah halted halfway across the kitchen, locked into the gaze of its rust-coloured eyes. Although the transforming effect of the candlelight disguised its true colouring, she saw a muscular chest covered by a short, thick coat.
    Hannah remained motionless until another face appeared behind the glass. This time she gasped and took a step backwards as she saw not another dog, but a man.
    He was ancient. At least eighty. Tall in defiance of his age. Deep lines and creases ran in patterns across his face. Little fat or flesh clung to his bones. A fuzz of white hair, cropped close, covered his head and a mist of