“Oh Christ.... Freder?”
“Don’t be startled, do you hear?”
“Freder, you’re not in danger?”
No answer. Silence. A crackling sound. Then a childish voice:
“And did Mr. Hedgehog come, sister?”
“Yes—”
But the “yes” was drowned by the tearing of thousands of steel cables, the roar of tens of thousands of rocks which were hurled up to the dome of heaven, to burst the dome and to sink, to hurtle downwards, causing the earth to sway under their fall.
Supplementary crackling. Grey, leisurely clouds. Distant rumbling. And steps. Childish crying. And, up above, the door which was hauled upwards:
“Maria—!”
A blackened face bent downwards; filthy hands stretched out, gropingly.