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John Connolly

Dark Hollow

Hodder & Stoughton 2000
Jacket design Mark Harrison

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John Connolly

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But who's in the trunk?' asked Nutley. 'Well, son, that's what we're here to find out.' The group of five moved carefully over the hard ground, their breath puffing white as they went. Around them, the tips of evergreens scraped the sky and welcomed the flakes with their spread branches. The ground here was rocky, and the new snow had made it slick and dangerous. Ryley had already stumbled once, painfully scraping his shin. In the sky above them, they could hear the sound of the Cessna's engine, one of Currier's planes from Moosehead Lake, and could see its spotlight picking out something on the ground ahead of them. 'If this snow keeps up, the plane's going to have to turn back,' said Patterson. 'Nearly there,' said Ryley. 'Another ten minutes and we'll have her.' A gunshot exploded in the darkness ahead of them, then a second. The light on the plane tilted and started to rise. Patterson's radio burst out with an angry blast of speech. 'Hell,' said Patterson, with a look of disbelief on his face. 'She's shooting at them.' The Cambodian stayed close to Paulie Block as he moved to the rear of the car. Behind them, the younger men pulled back their coats to reveal Uzis hanging from straps on their shoulders. Each kept a hand on the grip, one finger just outside the trigger guard.

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