Free Coldbrook (Hammer) by Tim Lebbon Page B

out the shimmer of the breach, a slightly blurred area against the valley floor. It was the only familiar sight in this new world, and she was keen to keep it in view.
    Holly had left the stream behind now and was climbing directly for the ridgeline. The closer it drew the faster she moved, spurred on by the thought that she was the first person from her Earth to witness this world. The sunlight felt both familiar and shatteringly alien across the back of her neck, like a surprise kiss from a stranger.
That’s
our
sun
, she thought, but of course that was not quite true. She had already seen, and felt, and smelled this world’s subtle differences, and witnessed the horror of a more extreme divergence. There really was no telling how unlike her own planet it might be.
    There might be mountains up here,
she thought,
or lakes, or cities or ruins, or something unrecognisable.
And when at last she reached the top of the ridge and stood staring out over the vista ahead of her it took her breath away.
    The mountains stretched to the horizon, as they did at home, and beyond the valley the landscape was more familiar. The muted sunlight bathed its features, forest and bare slopes alike, and the darker depths of the valleyscould have held any number of mysteries. What disturbed Holly so much was the mystery of what might lie beyond them.
    Exhausted, scared and feeling more lost and alone than ever before, she managed to walk a dozen steps to a small mound of rocks. Here she sat, leaning back with her eyes closed to catch her breath. The breeze was stronger up here, and it was fresh and untainted by the tang of industry.
That doesn’t mean anything
, she thought, and she pictured that shuffling, monstrous thing once again. She opened her eyes and stared directly at the sun. She’d never been able to do that at home. The whole sky was tinted a faint pink.
Maybe this sun is dying
, she thought, and she wished Jonah were here to tell her why that might or might not be possible. The last time she’d seen him was when he’d been pressed against the glass wall, his face slackened by hopelessness as he watched events unfolding in Control. She looked into the valley as if those things had happened down there, but the breach was hidden from her now by the curve in the hillside.
    ‘I’m so far away,’ she said, her voice surprisingly loud. She rested her elbows on her knees, her head on her forearms, and then she saw the single word carved into a smooth rock at her feet.
    Exit
.
    The word seemed to pin Holly to the rocks. Sheglanced to the left, and saw that another of the seemingly random stones had a sharp, regular edge. She hadn’t looked for it before, but now she could see.
    Exit
.
    She heard movement behind her, sliding, slithering, skin over wet stone. And as she stumbled from her perch and turned around she realised that she was not alone. The thing was rising from beneath thick vegetation atop the stones, lifting through twisted roots, parting leaves. It looked old and withered, similar to the man in Control, except this being had once been a woman. And she wore the scrappy remnants of clothes.
    As the gaunt thing reached out something flicked at Holly’s hair, whistling past her ear, and an arrow buried itself in the woman’s face.

Sunday
1
    JUST BEFORE DAWN on the day when the world changed for ever, Jayne Woodhams wished that she could die. For her it was not an unusual thought, and neither was the anger that followed.
    ‘Okay, babe,’ Tommy said. ‘It’s okay.’ And she groaned some more because it never was.
    Dawn made the Knoxville skyline beautiful. Their second-floor apartment looked out over Fort Dickerson Park, and the Appalachian Mountains were silhouetted against the sky by the new day emerging from beyond. Such beauty sometimes held Jayne entranced and gave her every reason to live, but some mornings – like thisone – it passed her by. The first pains of the day forbade beauty, and today the agony seemed