Hollow Earth Read Free Page A

wasn’t sure she missed him at all.
    ‘Really, Mum,’ continued Em. ‘We’re not stupid. We know we’re not supposed to draw in public. But we were so hot. We won’t do it again. Promise.’
    Sandie sighed. Sometimes, her terror made her lose control. She patted Em’s leg. ‘I know you’re not stupid. Far from it.’ She tried to ruffle Matt’s hair. He pulled away and slouched against the seat. ‘It’s just that you’re getting older, and things are becoming complicated—’
    ‘We were hot and wanted to go swimming,’ Matt snapped. ‘And you promised no more meetings. Two days in a row you’ve dragged us to that stupid gallery.’
    Sandie leaned forward, fear tightening the knot already in her stomach. ‘Are you saying you knew you were putting yourselves into the painting?’ She turned to Em. ‘Please tell me you’ve never done that before.’
    Don’t say a word, Em.
    Em hesitated as Matt’s words echoed in her head. ‘We didn’t know we could do that – until it happened with a painting yesterday,’ she said at last.
    The colour drained from Sandie’s face. Things were worse than she had thought. Much worse. ‘What painting?’
    Be quiet, Em!
    ‘A painting … of Roman ruins. It was easy to copy.’ Seeing the sudden panic in her mum’s eyes, Em blurted, ‘No one saw us. Honest. We were careful, Mum. I promise we were.’
    Shut up, Em, or I’ll pound you.
    I don’t like telling lies … and you couldn’t pound me if you tried.
    Em whacked Matt across his chest with her backpack. He yelped, reached across the seat and swatted his sister back.
    ‘Emily Anne Calder! What was that for?’
    Not for the first time, Sandie sensed something strange going on between her son and daughter. She knew twins were connected to each other in ways that science was only beginning to understand – Matt able to sense when Em was sad; Em able to know when Matt was angry or hurt. And she knew that twins often had unique ways of communicating with each other. But what was beginning to scare her was that – given who the twins were, given what they were becoming – this was something much more significant.
    Sandie tugged the offending backpack from Em’s hands and set it down on her own lap. She needed to think. She needed to plan. ‘We’ll talk more about this when we get home.’
    Matt fiddled with his headphones and cranked up his music. Em did the same.
    Sandie leaned her head against the cool glass of the taxi window. At the entrance to St James’s Park, she watched a family waiting for the pedestrian signal. A mum pushing her baby in a pram, a dad with a toddler gripping his hand.
    Everything was so much easier when they held my hands , she thought.
    Not for the last time that day, Sandie wondered if her children were becoming more than she could handle – a prediction their grandfather, Renard, had thrown at her the day she bundled up her twin toddlers and ran for their lives.

FIVE
    A rthur fled from the grinning demon. He didn’t have much time. Someone else had witnessed Arthur’s failure to keep an eye on the twins and their developing powers – and now the Society would know that Arthur was dispensable. He knew too much. He had done too much. At the door to his office, he fumbled for his key-card and dropped it. When he bent to retrieve it, he heard footsteps pitter-pattering across the floor in the lab behind him. Snatching up the card, he swiped his office door open, slamming and locking it behind him. Leaning against the cold metal, he attempted to calm himself.
    The noises in the lab were louder now, as if someone was scampering across the tables.
    ‘You have time. You have time,’ Arthur chanted aloud, trying to quell his terror. His nerves were frayed, and he was having difficulty keeping his fear at bay. Sandie couldn’t possibly control or change what was in the future for the twins, and yet he felt a deep sadness that he was unable to prepare her for what was to come. He’d