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Authors: James Dawson

BOOK: Hollow Pike
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Kitty beamed at her. ‘Babe, you will not regret this . . .’

Later that same evening, Lis stood outside the local Budgens in Hollow Pike, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. She tried to distance herself from a cluster of Year Nine
girls who were trying to lure passers-by into buying cigarettes for them. Classy.

Twilight had fallen early, and even though the streets were still busy, everyone was in a rush to get home before darkness came. Lis hopped from foot to foot trying to keep warm. Right on time,
Laura Rigg stepped off the bus and crossed the street to join her. She was still in her school uniform, save for the Ugg boots she’d put on her feet.

‘Didn’t you get the message this morning?’ Laura snarled when she was close enough.

‘Hi, yeah, sorry. I wanted to try to sort things out.’ Lis tried to smile sweetly at Laura, although it didn’t come naturally.

Laura pouted for a second. ‘Go on, then. Your text said you wanted to talk about Danny. Have you said something to him? He wouldn’t return my texts today.’

Lis noticed that Laura seemed twitchy about this fact. ‘No, I haven’t seen Danny all day. Do you wanna come back to mine? It’s freezing out here.’

Laura shrugged. ‘Whatever. Where do you live?’

‘Just through the copse.’

Laura nodded. ‘What did you wanna talk about anyway? I’ve gotta be home by nine thirty; my mum’s being a total bitch at the moment.’

Lis led them down the urine-scented alleyway at the side of the corner shop that led to the car park. At the back of the car park was the gate into the recreation ground. There were some Fulton
pupils climbing all over the swings, laughing and joking as they knocked back cheap lager.

‘I’m glad you came. I wanted to put the fight behind us,’ Lis said as they gave the play area a wide berth and headed towards the dark trees of Pike Copse. ‘I never meant
to fall out with you and nothing happened with Danny, I promise.’

Laura eyed her with distaste. ‘I know. Danny wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.’

That stung, but Lis kept her cool. Laura’s reign of terror could be over forever if she could just keep up the act for another few minutes. ‘Laura, I’m trying to make things
better. I liked being friends with you. You’re clearly smarter than Nasima and that lot. I thought you’d at least listen.’

Laura seemed to soften at the compliment. This was easy, much easier than Lis had ever thought it would be.

‘Whatever. Look, I only came to talk about Danny. You need to get it into your dense head that it’s not gonna happen with you and him.’

The wild hoots and jeers of the lads in the play area were distant whispers now, the chattering of the wind through the trees much louder. The black copse loomed before them. By day, the trees
were just trees, but now, at dusk, they were a single, swaying entity.

‘That’s what I’m trying to say,’ Lis said, suppressing the anger inside. ‘Friends are more important than guys. I’ll stay away from Danny if you stop giving
me grief.’

Laura thought about it for a moment. ‘Yeah, but if I see you with Danny again, I’ll cut you, I swear. Oh, and you can’t hang about with that dyke Monroe – you know, she
properly tried to tongue me once. Seriously. She’s
obsessed
with me.’

Lis fought the urge to punch her there and then. Kitty was twice the friend Laura was. ‘OK, I promise, scout’s honour!’

‘Yeah, I bet you
were
a girl scout too!’ Laura grinned.

They reached the stile into the copse, Lis stepping over first. Laura hung back on the other side, seemingly reluctant to set foot in the wood.

‘What’s up?’ Lis asked.

‘Nothing. I just hate the copse when it’s getting dark,’ Laura replied.

‘Scared?’ Lis knew full well that Laura was scared. She’d remembered their first conversation in G2 – Laura’s mother and the bedtime stories that had terrified her
as a little girl.

‘Uh, yeah. You’ve heard the rumours, right?’ Lis could tell that Laura wasn’t kidding. Her mouth had formed a grim line.

‘What? Witchcraft and stuff?’ Lis asked lightly. ‘That’s all crap, though! And, anyway, it was hundreds of years ago – like in the Dark Ages!’

Laura climbed over the stile. ‘You’re not from Hollow Pike, though. You don’t know the stories. I grew up on them. Everyone here did.’

‘Laura, my sister’s house is like five minutes away. I think we’ll be fine!’

‘Whatev.’ The beautiful girl looked around apprehensively, surveying the winding forest path. ‘You lead the way then.’

Lis set off down the trail. Somewhere overhead a crow cawed loudly from high in the trees. Black, winged shapes darted through the forest canopy and, in the gloom, they could easily be mistaken
for bats. Lis sensed Laura’s nerves but refused to feel any sympathy. It served her right; she had it coming. ‘So what stories should I be scared of?’ Lis asked her.

‘When I was little, my dad used to tell me stories about children who went into the copse and never came out. They just vanished,’ Laura said. Twigs crunched underfoot as the trees
closed up around them, blocking out the dying light.

‘You don’t believe that, do you?’

‘No . . . Maybe . . . I don’t know. Everyone knows the stories. You just keep out of the woods after dark.’

Lis laughed. ‘Big, Bad Laura Rigg, scared of the—’ She stopped and turned, hearing a noise behind her. From out of the shadows, a dark figure had emerged onto the path. A pair
of strong arms seized Lis and she screamed. Laura shrieked as another figure appeared from behind a tree. Both attackers wore long, rough brown robes, hooded like a monk’s gown. A third
hooded figure charged down the path towards them.

‘Laura!’ Lis yelled, her scream ripping through the forest. ‘Run!’

Run

Laura backed across the forest floor, evading the hooded figure who stalked towards her.

‘Laura,’ Lis screeched again as the figure that held her produced a mean-looking dagger from his sleeve, ‘run!’ As Lis said it, her captor plunged the dagger into her
stomach and she doubled over, gasping for air. She flopped to her knees, clutching her wound as the hooded man jerked the knife out of her torso.

Laura sobbed, her hands at her mouth. Then, as Lis toppled over into the dirt, she turned and fled, heading away from the hooded trio on unsteady feet. Lis and the dagger-man blocked the way
they’d come – so Laura ran deeper into the copse.

The three robed figures stood over Lis’s body, watching Laura vanish into the indigo darkness. Within seconds, they could no longer hear her footsteps stomping through the leaves.

‘That was genius!’ said Jack, pulling off his hood.

‘Did you get it all?’ Lis asked, sitting up.

‘Yep!’ Delilah pulled back her hood and switched the digital camera off. ‘Laura Rigg, starring in
Soil Your Pants
!’

Kitty poked at the retractable blade Jack was holding, a bargain from the joke shop on the high street. ‘That was priceless! Lis, you were amazing, I will never forget the look on her
face. Did you see it?’

‘Not really, I was too busy pretending to be dead. Can I see?’ She took her camera from Delilah and played it back. The action started, showing a jerky, grainy Lis and Laura
strolling down the path, talking about how spooky the woods were. Then the battery sign flashed up and the screen faded to black. ‘Crap,’ Lis sighed. ‘I’ll have to charge it
when I get home. At least it lasted for the filming.’

‘I can’t believe it worked!’ Jack laughed. ‘Now all we have to do is threaten to put this on YouTube if Laura doesn’t leave us all in peace. She’ll be putty
in our hands. You won’t ever have to worry about her again, Lis – none of us will! Man, I love blackmail!’

Kitty looked ahead anxiously. ‘We should get out of here. If Laura calls the police, we are in deep, deep trouble.’

Nodding eagerly, Jack started to back out of the copse. ‘We should split up, just in case.’

‘Yeah, and lose the robes!’ Lis urged, clambering over the stile.

‘Give them here. I need to put them back in the drama studio before Mrs Osborne notices they’re gone.’ Delilah stuffed the robes into her rucksack.

‘Ring when you get home, yeah?’ Lis said. ‘I’ll email you the video.’

‘Epic!’ Kitty gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Call as soon as you’re home.’

Kitty and Delilah set off in one direction, towards the play area, while Lis and Jack went in the other, towards the main road. It was fully dark now, and Lis was so high on adrenalin that she
didn’t see the raven watching her from the crumbling wall of the copse.

Less than a mile away, the tallest trees of Pike Copse stood, enveloped in the thickest night silence – until a scream rang out through the serene woods, echoing across
the valley. The scream, not playful or coy, spoke only of terror. A girl was in great danger. Trees shook and the woods sprang to life. Birds took flight, fleeing the scene. The copse was suddenly
wide awake.

Heavy footsteps pounded the damp earth. More screams, pleading now: ‘
Stop! Leave me alone!
’ The brittle crack of sticks and twigs. The crunch of autumn leaves. Desperate
fingers snatched at branches and reeds. More feet pounded across the soil – a chase! It had been a long time since the copse had last seen a hunt, a return to the days of blood.

A girl fled, running with such intensity her legs burned inside. This wasn’t the kind of run used at races on sports day, this was the dash of prey. A race for survival, a predator close
behind. Her breath came in short raspy bursts as her lungs heaved painfully. There was no air left in her body to scream for help and there were no saviours in sight. She spun unsteadily, searching
for the hunter. She couldn’t go on, so she crouched behind a tree, cocooned in a network of roots. She clutched her chest, barely able to breathe yet too scared to make any sound. Her filthy
feet were bleeding from where she’d lost her shoes in the chase. Her tights were torn and her hands raw. She strained to listen. Should she run again? Or should she stay hidden?

Fear drove her. She ran. But after only three paces, she tripped and fell, tumbling down a steep incline. Skeleton tree hands tore at her face and body. Barely recognisable as human, the girl
looked feral in her fear. She rolled to a halt, groaning. A freezing sensation crept up around her legs. She was in water.

Everything hurt: limbs, skin, nails, hair. With an exhausted moan she started to haul her body out of the stream, using weeds, but she found herself sliding back down in the slippery mud. She
sobbed uncontrollably, pleading, wailing at the flock of birds that flew up, occluding the moon.

‘Help me!’ she screamed pitifully. ‘Someone . . . please . . .’
Please God, help me . . . I’ll be better. I’ll try harder. I’ll be nice.

She clambered onto her knees, not hearing the footsteps behind her. Too late, something flashed in her peripheral vision. Hands reached out, yanking her up by her hair. Rough fingers grasped her
with vice-like strength, and then another flash: moonlight gleamed off a curved silver blade. As she was lifted clean off the ground, feet kicking uselessly in the air, she screamed: a primal
scream from deep within her gut.

It was the last noise Laura Rigg ever made.

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