The Hollows(7)



Geeks and nerds. But that was okay. She fitted right in.

‘And I don’t want to flex but I’m getting good grades. It’s all right.’

‘And what do your parents do for work?’ Ryan asked, saying it like he wasn’t interested but was trying to keep the conversation going.

‘Mum works in HR and dad’s a music journalist. He’s met everyone,’ she found herself saying. ‘Eminem, Pink, Jay-Z. He interviewed Kurt Cobain a month before he killed himself.’

Now Ryan’s interest was piqued. ‘For real?’

‘Yeah. Dad worked for this really popular magazine, back when magazines were still a thing.’

‘Meeting Cobain and Eminem. I guess your dad’s pretty cool.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What is it?’

‘Well. It’s like . . . I left England when I was eleven. A kid, you know? And he still thinks I’m a baby, like he can order me around, not ask for my opinion about stuff. I’m almost fifteen.’

‘Parents,’ Ryan said. ‘Mine are the same. I didn’t even want to come here. Why would I want to go somewhere just because a couple of teachers got murdered there? It’s creepy AF. I mean, it’s all right during the day, I guess, but I looked out of the cabin window last night and it was Friday the 13th out there.’

Frankie laughed. ‘Camp Crystal Lake.’

‘Does being a virgin mean I’m safe?’ Ryan asked, and Frankie felt herself blush.

‘I think we’re almost there,’ Ryan said, rescuing her from the super-cringe moment. The light streaming through the trees ahead of them was brighter, indicating they had reached the edge of the woods.

Frankie checked her phone. ‘I don’t have a signal yet. Do you?’

‘No.’

They found themselves stepping out on to a road on the outskirts of the town. To their left, there was what appeared to be a junkyard, with a tall chain-link fence and a sign that read Honest Salvage and Recycling. A crumbling house with broken windows sat beyond the empty yard.

‘Yep. Horror-movie central.’ Ryan took a photo then gestured for Frankie to stand beside him so he could take a selfie of the two of them with the junkyard in the background.

There was no one in sight, not even any cars on the road. All Frankie could hear was a faint tinkling in the distance. Wind chimes? For some reason, the sound – one she usually found pleasant – made goosebumps spring up on the flesh of her arms, and she hugged herself.

‘Welcome to Penance, Maine,’ said Ryan, checking his phone again. There was still no signal. ‘Seems like just the kind of place a murderer would grow up in, huh?’

They walked along the road. The sun beat down on them as the wind chimes continued to ring out softly, somewhere far away. They chatted as they walked: about school, their friends, the differences between Britain and America, and, to Frankie’s surprised delight, books they’d both enjoyed. She didn’t know any boys who read. At her school, any boy caught reading for pleasure was setting himself up for months of bullying. Ryan was a fan of lots of books she’d enjoyed, like The Hate U Give and The Fault in Our Stars. He also loved Stephen King and was astonished she’d never read any. ‘I’ve got one with me. Pet Sematary. I’ll lend it to you. Get you in the Maine mood.’

They passed a street called Paradise Loop. There was a group of four teenagers, three boys and a girl, all white, hanging out on the sidewalk. A couple of the boys bounced a basketball between them while the other two, who might have been girlfriend and boyfriend, stood nearby, not doing anything but watching. They were all around Frankie’s age and she didn’t like the look of them. There was something intimidating about them.

But Ryan didn’t seem to share her concern.

‘Hey,’ he said, approaching them. The two boys who were bouncing the basketball stopped. The girl and the boy who’d been watching stopped their conversation and turned to face Ryan. The girl was very pale, with strawberry-blonde hair and eyebrows that were almost non-existent. The boy had very short hair, with huge eyes and pale skin stretched over hollow cheeks.

The boy looked Ryan up and down like he was trash.

‘Hey,’ Ryan said again. ‘Is there someplace around here we can get Wi-Fi? Like a McDonald’s?’

‘A McDonald’s?’ said the girl, with a mean laugh.

‘Subway?’ Ryan said.

All the kids laughed except the boy with the cropped hair. He just continued to stare at Ryan. Looking at him, and the girl, Frankie realised they were probably brother and sister. Twins? They had the same hair colour. The same pallid skin, like teenage vampires. Frankie noticed the boys with the basketball edging away from the siblings, and realised they weren’t all together. The probably-twins had just been watching them.

‘All right, whatever,’ Ryan said. ‘You all have a good one.’

He’d started to walk away, with a relieved Frankie at his side, when they heard a high-pitched male voice from behind. ‘You staying at Hollow Falls?’

Ryan turned back and Frankie reluctantly turned too. ‘Yeah, we are.’

‘Seen any ghosts yet?’

‘What?’ Frankie said.

The boy looked at her like she was a moron. ‘I asked if you’d seen any ghosts.’

His voice was odd. Like it hadn’t broken properly yet. His eyes, though huge like an anime character’s, were sleepy. Was he stoned? Frankie was holding her Hydro Flask and she noticed the girl looking at it. Instinctively, she moved it behind her back.

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