Simon Beckett - The Calling Of The Grave

He almost made it. Fragments of glass peppered us as he punched a hole through the windscreen, letting in a cold blast of air. The car briefly seemed to level out, and I had time to think, Thank God. Then there was a crunching jolt and everything tipped sideways. The car seemed to hang weightless, then something slammed into me. The world became a tumbling confusion of darkness and noise. I was flung around without any sense of up or down.

Then there was stillness.

Gradually, sounds and sensations began to reassert themselves. A faint ticking, the steady drip-drip of rain. I could feel it against my face, along with cold air, but it was too dark to see. I was sitting upright but at an angle. Something was constricting my chest, making it hard to breathe. I groped at it with hands that felt leaden and clumsy. I was coated with a fine powder: residue from the airbags. They'd deflated now, draped out like pale tongues. But the seatbelt still held me in place, stretched taut across me like an iron band. I fumbled to unfasten it, shedding pebble-like pieces of broken glass, and slid down the seat as it slithered free.

'Sophie?' I tried to make her out in the darkness. Relief flowed through me as she stirred. 'Are you hurt?'

'I… I feel sick…' She sounded dazed.

'Hang on.'

There was movement in front of us as I struggled with Sophie's seatbelt. I heard Cross groan.

'You two all right?' she asked.

'I think so.' I tugged at the catch to Sophie's seatbelt. 'What did we hit?'

But Cross gave a cry and began scrambling over to Miller. 'Nick? Nick?'

He was slumped in his seat, not moving. I hurriedly freed Sophie's seatbelt. 'Can you get out now?'

'I – I think so…'

The door on my side was jammed. The hinges screeched in protest as I kicked it open. My legs almost gave way when I climbed out of the car. I leaned on to it for support, light-headed and aching all over. The car had come to rest at the bottom of a shallow embankment. It was upright but canted on one side, the bodywork scraped and mangled. One headlight was smashed and the other gave only a sickly glow, shining sadly into the ground like a blinded eye. The fog was tainted with the smell of petrol, but there was no sign of fire.

Crystalline pieces of shattered glass crunched underfoot as I limped around to the driver's side, slipping on the torn earth and grass. The car was more badly damaged here. The roof had crumpled, buckling the door shut. I tried forcing it open but it was useless: it would have to be cut away before anyone could get to Miller.

Cross was still inside the car next to him, talking urgently on the radio. She'd propped a torch on what was left of the dashboard, and I could see Miller hanging limply in his seat, held in place by the belt. Blood smeared his face and matted his hair, black and shiny in the torchlight.

I reached through the jagged hole where the window had been and felt for the carotid artery in his neck. There was a pulse but it was weak.

'Is he all right?'

Sophie had climbed out of the car and was gingerly making her way towards me.

'We need to call the paramedics,' I said. Even if we could have got him out of the car, moving him ourselves could do more harm than good. 'How about you?'

I could feel her shivering as I put my arm round her. She leaned against me. 'Bit dizzy, and my head's splitting.'

I would have asked more, but at that moment the car creaked as Cross forced her way out.

'Help's on its way,' she said, facing us across the car roof. She'd regained some of her calm. There was blood on her face, either her own or Miller's. 'They're going to try to send an air ambulance but I don't think it'll be able to get to us in this.'

Neither did I. The fog was as thick as ever, and even if there was somewhere for a helicopter to land I doubted it would attempt it.

'What happened?' Sophie asked. She still sounded dazed. 'God, did we hit someone?'

In the turmoil of the crash I'd forgotten about that. 'I'll go and look.'

'No.' Cross was firm. 'No one's wandering off. We'll wait for help to arrive.'

I saw with surprise that she'd taken her gun from its holster. But I was already replaying the snatched images of the figure caught in the headlights, recalling how it had come apart when we hit it. Not like there'd been flesh and bone inside the coat, more like… branches.

A scarecrow.

'She's right,' I said. 'We should stay here.'

'We can't just leave them there!' Sophie protested.

Cross was staring into the darkness, but now she turned to face Sophie across the car. 'Yes, we can. If you want to do something, there's a blanket-' she began, and then a shadow charged at her out of the fog.

Miller hadn't lied about how fast she was. The torch beam spiralled as she flung herself backwards. The figure was almost on top of her but she lashed out with a side kick at the same time as she swung the gun up. I heard a thump as the kick landed but her attacker swung a savage backhanded blow that caught Cross in the face. There was a meaty, bone-on-bone impact, and the policewoman pitched to the ground like a broken toy.

Sophie's scream freed me from my shock. 'Run!' I yelled, scrambling around the car, and throwing myself at the figure.

It was like hitting a brick wall. An arm swung, batting me against the car. The breath burst from me but before I could cry out a hand clamped around my throat. Calloused fingers dug into my neck, pinning me against the bonnet as stars burst in my vision.

In the light from the fallen torch I found myself looking into the Halloween mask features of Jerome Monk.

He stared down at me with eyes that were dead and black. I flailed at him, but the arm beneath the greasy jacket was as solid as a tree trunk. His hand was jammed like a vice under my jaw. I could taste the stink of him, foul and feral as an animal's cage. My head felt about to burst. My sight was going now, the fog seeming to thicken around me. Through it I saw him look over his shoulder, heard the clumsy snap of branches as Sophie stumbled away.

God, no! I tried to shout out but I couldn't breathe. Monk jerked the arm holding me, slamming me back against the car. The air burst from my lungs as something rammed into my stomach. Abruptly the pressure was gone from my throat and I felt myself falling.

Then I hit the ground and the fog closed in completely.

I passed out, though only for a few seconds. I found myself in the mud, eyes pulsing with blood and my head throbbing as I tried to draw breath. There was a rushing in my ears.

Through it, as though from a long way away, I heard Sophie scream.

I tried to stand, but my body wouldn't respond. Get up! Come on, move! I clambered on to my hands and knees, mud and water soaking into my clothes. But my vision was clearing now, the blood-red mist lifting. I retched as my diaphragm spasmed. Sucking in ragged breaths, I used the car to drag myself to my feet.

I took a step and clutched at the car again as my legs almost gave way. Cross's torch had rolled against a front tyre, throwing a flat white light across the grass. In it I saw the policewoman. She lay sprawled in the grass, in the same broken posture as she'd fallen. There had been a horrible finality to the sound Monk's fist had made on her jaw.

But there was nothing I could do for her, or for Miller either. Snatching up the torch, I flung open the car boot. The cabin light was broken, but the dim yellow glow might act as a guide when the back-up arrived. I paused just long enough to grab the blanket from inside and throw it over Cross.

Then I went after Sophie and Monk.

I'd only a vague idea of which way they'd gone. The car had crashed on the edge of a wood, and the gnarled trees hemmed me in as I broke into a shambling run. The ground beneath them was a jumble of moss-covered rocks and bog grass which I skidded and slipped on. I slowed, shining the torch around.