Page 105 of Burn Like An Angel

He rolls his eyes at us. “Not even close. Better luck next time.”

“I never want to hear Xander say the wordsfreak in the sheetsever again.”

“Honestly, me neither,” I agree.

We pass a sign denoting our destination, informing us that the small town of Keyworth is still six miles away. We’ve graduated back to narrow country roads, the winding bends sandwiched by drystone walls and fields of munching cows.

As the last of the sunlight fades, Xander pulls a flashlight from his backpack. They stocked up on batteries on the latest supply run. The yellow beam lights the road ahead, leading us deeper into the countryside.

“How much farther?” Raine groans exaggeratedly.

“Probably two or three more hours.” Lennox pulls a cereal bar from his coat pocket. “Here. Eat this.”

Raine stretches out his hand for him to place the food in it. Lennox almost drops the bar when the sound of a rumbling engine breaks the quiet nighttime. We haven’t seen a car for miles now that we’re back in the sticks.

“What’s our excuse here?” I scan the road ahead. “Out for a pitch-black hike?”

“We haven’t seen a local for ages,” Xander replies. “Let’s take cover.”

Snagging Raine’s sleeve, Lennox guides him over to the side of the road. We deftly scale the wooden fence, one by one. The field beyond is completely dark, pierced by the occasional mooing sound.

The distant rumbling grows louder. Safely ducked inside the farmer’s field, Xander clicks off the flashlight, plunging us into complete blackness.

“It sounds like a van,” I whisper.

A huge, familiar hand engulfs my leg, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“Delivery truck maybe?” Lennox guesses.

“In the middle of nowhere?” Raine replies.

Headlights illuminate the thick rows of hedges we’ve ducked behind. The engine slows, idling for a second before crunching tyres pull up. I hear Xander quietly curse as heavy-sounding doors slam.

Come on. Please.

Be here for someone else.

Lighting the flashlight but covering the beam with his hand, Xander gestures for us to creep after him. He keeps down, ducked close to the wet grass before he begins crab-walking as silently as possible.

“Stay low,” Lennox murmurs.

Grabbing hold of Raine’s hand, their grips interlock, ensuring he won’t get lost in the shadows. Xander moves ahead with us following, away from the road. With any luck, it’s a taxi driver taking a leak.

I almost falter and faceplant when another door slams and high-pitched sobbing permeates the night. Xander looks back with a questioning look, also searching for the source.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” A familiar, male voice rings out. “Call for your friend.”

Ice blooms deep within me and crystallises in my bloodstream. The darkness must be playing tricks on me. There’s no way that voice has followed us all the way out here, far from the subterranean hellscape we left it in.

“Do it!” he thunders.

Stretching to his full height, Xander motions for us to run. “Go!”

But paralysing fear holds me captive. A clammy chill sweeps over me, causing beads of cold sweat to trickle down my spine. My breath comes in short gasps as I hear the weeping voice scream out again.

“N-No! I won’t do it!”

“Rip,” Xander hisses under his breath. “Move!”

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