Page 1 of Her Last Breath

Prologue

‘We shouldn’t be here.’

There was a pulse of fear in Kevin’s voice.

‘Don’t be a pussy, Kev, there’s no one around,’ Al replied dismissively.

‘Yeah, only some crazy farmer who’s gonna to blow our heads off,’ Lee protested.

‘Jesus, you lads are such kids,’ Al continued. ‘Get over it. We are doing this.’

The sun hadn’t risen yet and shadows stretched around them, the morning chill invading their bones. Despite their hesitation, the other boys followed Al to where the crumbling countryside bridge had been barricaded. Some traffic cones, rope mesh and boulders blocked the crossing and it took the three teenagers a full five minutes to clear a path. Tentatively, they traversed the bridge, Kevin gripping the edges, eyes wide in terror.

‘It’s not going to collapse under your five kgs benching weight,’ Al mocked, laughing.

In the rapidly growing dark, they stood in silence staring down at the River Calder, which meandered slowly beneath them. It looked deeper here, shaded by a dense thicket of overgrown trees, menacing black water rippling around them. The bridge had started to collapse a year ago, funding cuts ensuring it wasn’t on anyone’s priority list. Al had seen an article online about the dilapidated structure and decided it would be the perfect location for the stunt he had planned.

Kevin and Lee were fourteen, two years younger than Al. Already, they seemed childlike to him. He’d be starting college when the summer break was over, sporting a goatee and gelled-back hair as his new mature look.

‘Right, who’s going first?’

He laughed in their faces, as both boys recoiled.

‘I’m gonna have to show you then. Prove which one of us is actually the alpha. TikTok is gonna go crazy for this shit – I bet I can hold my breath underwater for six minutes. You girls stand back and start filming me.’

Deriding weakness as being girly was the familiar taunt of his favourite YouTuber. Some lame women called him toxic, but what did they know?

Al took off his shoes and socks, quickly stripping down to his boxers.

‘Nobody else would be crazy enough to do this, but I’m gonna jump from up here. This bridge is ready to fall down any moment and it’s so dark outside I can barely see a few feet in front of me. Proper risky shit. Get ready to be amazed.’

Making sure his friends were filming him using night cam, Al leapt over the side of the bridge.

The water was hard and cold, punching his chest and stomach as he dived in. He went deeper and deeper, trying to penetrate the blackness of the river. There was a momentary panic as he realised how far below the surface he was, his body flailing, feeling the desperate urge to open his mouth and breathe, but he bolstered his resolve; he would not fail at this. He swam downwards with as much strength as he could muster, his fingers scraping the river floor, coarse and hard against his touch. He fixed his hands against the riverbed, flapping his feet wildly to stay in place.

Seven seconds. Eight seconds. This was harder than it looked on TikTok. His lungs were already beginning to burn, the desire to breathe strong. Still he held on, pushing his body to the limit, forcing himself to stay the course.

His body spent, Al pivoted to swim towards the surface, triumphant. As his fingers left the riverbed, however, he felt his heart burst, as something lunged towards him, grabbing him by the arm. Terrified, the teenager tried to free himself, panic rising, his body convulsing as he realised what had latched on to him. A ghostly white face. A woman with long flowing hair.

Al screamed, his mouth open in absolute dread. But no sound came, only a stream of bubbles.

Day One

Chapter 1

Jane felt the knife go deep, slicing her palm open, blood pouring from the wound.

‘Shit!’

It still felt wrong to swear in this space, as though she remained a child, bound by the rules her parents had set for her. Flustered, she snatched up a handful of kitchen roll, trying to staunch the blood, which was already running down her wrists, staining her white work shirt. As she did so, the smoke alarm erupted into a piercing cry, Jane cursing as she grabbed a broom to knock it into silence. Pulling toast from the aged machine, she felt the slices scald the tips of her fingers, dropping the charred pieces to the floor.

‘Jane, where’s my breakfast?’

Her mother’s voice carried from the lounge, demanding and impatient.

‘I’m trying my bloody best,’ Jane muttered angrily. The carers had to be late today of all days, she thought. Rummaging around in drawers full of memories and trash, Jane unearthed some bandages. The cold water stung as she ran her hand under the tap, drying it with more kitchen roll, before bandaging it as tightly as she could.

On the chopping board, the apple she’d been cutting into pieces was smeared with blood, so she binned it. Changing tack, she spread thick slices of white bread with butter, dropping burnt bacon on top. Protein and carbs, a balanced meal. She needed to buy some cereal or something else quick and easy, in case the carers had a mishap again.