Free The Hollow Places by Dean Edwards Page A

would be getting
light by then. That was no good at all. It could delay proceedings
another day and time was running out.
    The headlights
of vehicles coming the other way caused spots of light to hover in
front of his eyes and his skull was pounding. The Third did not
agree that he was doing the right thing by abandoning Simon, but It
trusted him enough not to incapacitate him. He had his reasons. He
would be quicker without him. He wouldn't have to worry that Simon
was going to grab the wheel at some point and try to run them off
the road. He trusted the Dog to keep an eye on him and prevent
escape. Again, the Third disagreed.
    He thinks of
you as 'The Creature', Firdy thought angrily.
    The Third's
response was another spike of pain, like a needle going through the
back of his head.
    Okay,
okay.
    To the best of
his ability, he kept his mind on his driving. Driving came
naturally to him and it was something he enjoyed. Sometimes it even
helped him to relax. He wished the van would give him another ten
miles per hour, but it was probably for the best that he was stuck
to the speed limit. He didn't want to get pulled over with the Cat
in the back. That could be messy.
    He could sense
that the Cat was pleased to be away from the Dog, but was
frustrated and confused by her continued confinement.
    Your time will
come, he thought and she settled somewhat, though he imagined that
she was facing the exit, eyes wide in the dark, tapping her
claws.
    The Third
hadn't been keen on his taking the Dog or Cat with him, but his
confidence in their ability had convinced her to let him try. He
had been looking forward to this night for weeks; he wasn't about
to do anything to jeopardise its success. The Third knew that,
though she kept a close and constant watch on his thoughts and
(stabbed) tugged every now and then when something worried her.
    It was all
going to be okay though. Sarah had got away, but he and the Cat
would soon retrieve her. It was a good thing he had decided to
bring her as she'd be useful to him if anything else unexpected
happened. He knew that sometimes she left home and hunted; she was
a good tracker and based on appearance alone she'd be good for
crowd control.
    He had
everything worked out.
    You see, he
thought. You see how I care for you.
    He was
changing lane to head for the centre of London when he felt a
sudden sensation of falling.
    It was as if
he had been dropped.
    He hit the
brakes, too hard, and swerved across three lanes, the back fanning
out. He wasn't wearing his seatbelt so the sudden drop in speed
threw his body into the wheel. He freed his hand and turned the
wheel hard to correct the skid, but his foot slipped from the brake
and hit the accelerator. He swerved and braked again, tires
screaming.
    A truck moved
over to the middle lane to avoid him and rushed by, its
canvas-covered load flapping like a sail. It was all multi-coloured
lights and a roar of disapproval.
    On the hard
shoulder, Firdy regained some semblance of control. He hit the bank
and skidded to a stop. Something came off the van. A hub cap. It
rolled on and on and then veered into the lanes of traffic.
    Firdy rested
his head against the steering wheel, hostage to a panic that was
less to do with the fact that he had almost died, but more because
the Third was gone and it had happened in a matter of seconds. She
had never withdrawn so quickly before. It meant that something was
wrong, something he didn't want to think about.
    The Cat was
mewing in the back, though it sounded more like a dog's whine or a
child's groan. She was a big Cat. She was missing the Third too.
For a while she would be lost without her.
    “It’ll pass,”
he said out loud. The sound of his voice, however, only served to
punctuate the loneliness and make any attempts to defeat it seem
futile.
    He had to get
out of the van. The nothingness, the silence, was crushing him. He
fumbled the door open and half-fell out of the cab. His knees
buckled and he had to haul