A deep splintering noise cracked across the ground. Lizzy sat bolt upright, bashing her head on the shelf directly above her. A moment later, the sound of a building being ripped apart thundered like the amplified boom of cannon fire. Clutching one hand to her head, she scrambled from under the duvet, stumbled, wide awake now, across the floor and yanked back the curtain.

The noise resonated out of the darkness. It was as though mortar fire was ripping the earth apart. She jumped back as the ground shuddered below her. Then, as quiet and stillness descended again, she peered more closely through the window. It was pitch black outside. Crouching on the floor and fumbling through her suitcase, she grabbed a torch and flicking it on, followed the beam before shining it through the glass. Out of the mist of the sea fret, she saw that the chalet opposite was at a twisted angle. Squinting, she realised that it was no longer upright, but slanting away from her towards the sea. Without warning, the chalet shifted again, the walls severing and reverberations stampeded across the grass. Lizzy held tightly onto the sill as the building trembled. As soon as the movement stopped, she hurried without thinking, from the bedroom, across the living room and swung open the front door. A strong wind howled around her slim frame, bringing with it the cold rain of an October night.

Shivering, she slammed the door closed and back in the bedroom, yanked on jeans, boots and a thick jacket over her pyjamas. She then rifled through the suitcase again and pulled on a woolly hat that she found near the bottom. Finally outside, the sound of rupturing stone, rock and wood roared across the ground and hit her full in the chest. She gasped, feeling the weight of the elements pressing her backwards. Only by bending her head against the prevailing gusts and driving rain could she force her way towards the cliff edge and the precariously positioned chalet.

A dog was barking. The chalet’s front door banged open and then shut, slamming back hard again against the cracked frontage, then closed, before once more blasting wide as the gale ploughed through the open fissures and broken window panes of the small building. Remaining at a distance, Lizzy shone the beam of the torch over the grass and the line of dark buildings. There was no sign of lights being switched on or movement of doors opening and people coming out. However, feeling sure that others would at that moment be dragging on their boots and coats and soon joining her, she shone the light back at the collapsing chalet. Immediately, she saw them. Several feet inside the doorway, an elderly couple, both dressed in their outdoor coats and scarves, were clutching each other.

“Get out!” the wind snatched away Lizzy’s voice, “Here! Come on!” she waved the beam of light frantically.

Stepping forward slightly, she caught sight of the long drop into the pounding waves crashing against the cliff face and hesitated. Glancing quickly back towards the other chalets standing silent in the dark, she could feel her heart thumping. Looking again towards the couple and seeing that they had disappeared, she could feel herself panicking. She edged nearer, but still couldn’t make out where they had gone. Then the dog barked again.

“Here, boy!” Lizzy stared deep into the darkness and then froze. The two figures were kneeling on the floor, their heads resting on each other’s shoulders as they clung to each other as though praying. They seemed oblivious to the barking dog, her frantic shouting and the fact that the chalet was collapsing around them.

“It’s this way!” she yelled, flashing the torch again, “Come on! Move!”

Still barking, the dog ran towards her. The couple didn’t budge. The dog ran back, its head turning to look at Lizzy, then back to the couple.

“Get up!” she shouted. The wind and rain fought against her. She clenched her cold, wet fist around the metal of the torch, tensing her body against the damp, misty air.

“It’s going!” she cried.

Still they didn’t acknowledge her. She looked around again, wondering what to do, then, looking back at the couple and hesitating for barely a second, she crept forward and carefully extended one foot through the doorway. The chalet groaned and shifted creakingly away from her. She screamed, jumping onto the solid ground and staggering backwards. Narrowing her eyes against the rain towards the surrounding buildings, angry that none of the other residents had appeared, she felt herself begin to sweat in spite of the cold. All the doors in the outcrop of chalets remained shut. There was not one slither of light leaking through any of the closed curtains. A deep blackness clung to the entire site and only the torrential rain and the howling wind permeated the air. Shaking, Lizzy wiped away the rivulets dripping down her face as she struggled towards the nearest chalet, where she leapt up the steps and hammered her fists against the wooden door.

“Hello!” she shouted, “Is anybody in?!”

There was no answer. She banged again, but the building remained in darkness. She grabbed the door handle and twisting it, shook hard. It was locked. Almost falling down the mossy steps, her knees buckling under her, she hurried to the next building, where she slipped on the wet steps and grasping the hand rail as she raised her numbed fist, struck the door. The moment her hand hit the wood, the door opened.

“Hello?” A tousled haired man stared at her, sounding half asleep.

Lizzy gasped, breathing hard. She pointed into the rain.

“One of the chalets,” she could feel sobs rising in her throat.

He peered at her.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“There are people in there,” she gasped, “It’s falling off the cliff!”

She stepped back, hesitating as she waited for him to follow. He stared past her for a moment, before turning inside and flicking on a light switch. The rain battered across the veranda. She hunched her shoulders as the downpour sliced through her coat. She could see the blue of a kitchen unit with a pile of beach wood propped up against it and she caught an unexpected whiff of the ripeness of apples. All at once, she felt dizzy and she reached again for the balustrade. Closing her eyes, she could feel herself swaying, so she reopened them, stamping her feet from side to side, trying to focus on the room through the half open doorway. And then he reappeared.

“Which one?” he asked as he marched past her, closing the door behind him and shining the strong beam of an industrial looking lantern.

“Over there!” she slid in the mud to catch him up.

He had a long, sure stride. With his collar up and a hat pulled down low on his head, his face was hidden and she couldn’t fathom what he was going to do. As the black shape of the chalet loomed out of the mist in front of them, they could both see that it was in an extremely precarious position. Lizzy glanced at the man again. He didn’t break his momentum and within seconds, they reached the edge.

“Shelley! Gordon!” he cupped his hands and shouted.

His voice rang out deep and loud. Hearing wet footsteps, Lizzy turned to look behind her. An older man, probably in his early fifties, following a bright beam on the ground was hurrying with difficulty towards them, until finally he slid in the mud, only to hold himself up by grasping at the taller man’s arm. He shone his torch directly into Lizzy’s eyes making her squint.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat.

“Lizzy Juniper,” she stuttered, “I was telling..” she paused, but the taller man didn’t speak. “There’s two people trapped in there. And their dog. We’ve got to get them out!” her words tumbled over themselves.

The older, stocky man pushed her roughly aside as he pulled at the other’s sleeve, turning him around and away from her. She glanced at the chalet, sensing movement. With a whisper of crumbling soil, it shifted again, splintering to the side as a huge slice of land fell away.

“Oh, my God!” Lizzy yelled.

The chalet creaked to a halt as suddenly as it had begun to fall and now teetered precariously on towers of turf and stone. The back and one of the side walls had broken away and between them, the wind and gravity were sliding furniture across the floor. The living room curtains were flapping, bedding tore off the bed, ornaments smashed against the walls and interior doors ripped free of their hinges. Suddenly, a chair spun violently through the air and into the darkness.

“Where are they?!” her shrill words were snatched away.

As soon as she’d spoken, she made out the man balancing on the edge of broken floor and instinctively, she reached out. Without warning, the older man blocked her way.

“Get back to your chalet!” he ordered.

Crack! He turned and Lizzy slipped past him, but he managed to grab the sleeve of her coat and yank her back before barring her from nearing the edge. The wind was ripping at the disintegrating cliff face and chunks were breaking into the thundering waves below. Sand lifted into the air.

“Can you see him?” Lizzy shouted at the younger man, shaking herself from the other’s hold.

“Gordon!” the younger man shouted, striding, flashing his torch, still at a distance, along the front of the chalet which now lay on its side, splitting as the wind and rain bombarded its surface.

Several other residents now hurried, shining single beams, towards them. A man appeared from the far side of the chalet. He was shaking his head and gesticulating towards the building. About twenty metres away, the woman from the sole caravan amongst all the chalets was holding back her husband.

“They’re still inside!” Lizzy cried out, “We’ve got to get them to move!”

The old man glanced at the half dozen people who had gathered nearby and saw that they couldn’t hear.

“Someone’s got to go in,” Lizzy pleaded to his glowering face. “We’ve got to be quick!” her voice cracked.

“Anyone got some rope?” the taller man shouted towards the crowd.

Someone hurried forward and handed over a massive coil of hemp.

“Jez!” the old man interjected.

The taller man, who the other had called Jez, was already tying the rope around his waist. The  man who had handed it to him was wrapping the other end around a short concrete post. Jez caught Lizzy’s eye.

“See what you started?” he said.

“What?” Lizzy caught a look of amusement in his eye before he turned and inched his way to the cliff edge. “I don’t think it’s safe!” Lizzy suddenly said, “You’ll be killed!”

She ran forward, grabbing his arm, then stopped, staring at the rain streaming down his face, dripping from his nose and eyelashes. As one, they turned their heads and their torches as a steady cascade of earth grew into a thunderous rumble as the last of the cliff collapsed.

Jez dragged her away from the edge and grabbing the back of her head, pulled her into his chest so that her face was buried in the cold oilskin of his coat. Everyone remained completely still as they listened to the avalanche of rock and earth and wood giving way to the sound of the wind and the sea.