This is really impressive, very well written. I love the beehive hum, too.
Mark grips the steering wheel, the blinding headlights of oncoming cars making his eyes water. The stereo’s turned up loud, bass vibrating the dashboard, a beehive hum with every drum beat.
He tries to make the road his focus – the scrubby hillside, the moorland sweeping away to his left. Wind barrels across heather and squat grass, buffeting the car and Ladybower Reservoir lies ink black to his right, a hole punched in the world.
Passing the first wreck – an Alvis Silver Eagle, windscreen a spider’s web of splintered glass – he knows the body’s inside. There are more as the bends grow tighter.
He’d like to speed past the worst, for that scene to become a flicker in his peripheral vision, but the road’s too dangerous – he doesn’t want to join the dead. Besides, he has to look. To remember.
The car slows and he sees the shattered glass, the crumpled bonnets … Smashed bodies…
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