The cave - By Kate Mosse Page 0,2

second growl of thunder sounded. Without further warning, a single fork of lightning split the grey sky.

Freddie felt a violent gust of wind hit the car. Then a single large drop of rain fell, the size of a penny, then another and another, faster, faster. Within seconds, the rain was drumming on the roof of the car. It bounced off the bonnet and splattered against the windows. Freddie turned the wipers on. Back and forward, back and forward, they made no difference.

There was more thunder. A second snap of lightning lit the entire sky. Freddie slowed right down, gripping the wheel tighter. He could see no more than a few feet ahead. The tyres struggled to keep their hold on the slippery, steep road.

The sky was suddenly dark, black and threatening. Freddie turned on his headlights. Now the car was misting up. He wound down the window a little and felt a blast of cold, wet air. It made little difference. He leaned forward and wiped the inside of the windscreen with his sleeve. All the while, the sound of the wipers echoed in his head, back and forth, back and forth.

The crash of thunder came, the sound roaring through the valley. Then, a flash of lightning struck the road right ahead. Freddie slammed on the brakes, pulse jumping, heart thumping.

He counted, trying to work out how far away the storm was.

One, two, three . . . Seven seconds between the thunder and the lightning.

So the storm was still seven, maybe eight, miles away.

Freddie hit the accelerator pedal. He felt exposed out on this mountain road. He needed to find shelter.

The little car lurched forward into the raging head wind. Freddie told himself he wasn’t really in any danger. The storm sounded worse than it was. The chances of the car being struck by lightning were small. Surely? There were too many tall trees around.

But he didn’t convince himself. Besides, Freddie knew the real danger was the rain not the storm itself. If it kept up like this the road would become impassable. Already, rain was racing down the mountainside like a waterfall, cutting across the switchback bends in the road. Everywhere, there was swirling black flood-water.

There was another fierce crack of thunder directly overhead and a snap of lightning, sharp as a whip. Freddie braked and, to his horror, felt the car slide. He fought to keep on course. He dragged down hard on the wheel, but too hard. It was too much, too late. The car skidded, gliding sideways across the road, towards the sheer drop on the left hand side. He shouted. Then, there was a sharp crack. The offside wing caught on a border of stones marking the tree line at the edge of the road. Desperate, Freddie pulled at the wheel the opposite way. There was nothing he could do. He was going to crash.

The car twisted round 180 degrees, spinning like a child’s top.

Instinct took over. Freddie threw up his hands to protect his face. He felt the engine cut out, then a thud. Glass shattered into his lap. This was it. Any second now he would feel nothing but air beneath him as the car went over into the abyss.

He thought of his parents, his gentle mother and his stern father. How would they cope with the death of another son? He thought of his brother. Had George seen death coming to meet him? Did he know, in that last split second before the bullet found him, that his time was up?

Then the present rushed back. Freddie was thrown back in his seat. He heard a crack of metal and the car hit something. Freddie’s head jerked forward and hit the dashboard. Pain, sharp and complete.

After that, he felt nothing.

Chapter Three

Freddie was out cold. It felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. Then he felt a tingling in his toes, his fingers. He was aware that his whole body hurt.

For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Then, in a rush, it came back to him - the storm, the car hurtling across the road, the crash. He opened his eyes. His head was thumping loudly enough to wake the dead. The world came back into focus.

Freddie laughed out loud first with relief and then the luck of his narrow escape. The car was balanced on the edge of the cliff. The nearside wheels were over the edge, but the body of the car was still on the road.

He was facing the