Spine and corners bumped. Spine and covers creased. Pages browning. Foxing to compressed page edges.
The tiny black hole through which the cables disappeared was now growing larger every second. Tom's face was white and glistening as he fumbled with the lever above him.
Peter saw his lips moving, but could not hear what he was shouting. It seemed like "The brake! Can't fix it ... Sorry Peter."
She screamed out something as the great jagged black hole in the rock rushed towards them; then she covered her face with her hands and ducked on to the floor of the car as it careered madly into the blackness ...
