Game

Chapter 3

Rain turned to sleet by the time Cameron passed an old iron sign which declared Welcome to Bracken Gate, in black lettering against a reflective white background. It was one of those old iron signs which had obviously been painted countless times. Now, though it looked weathered and brown rust showed through around the bolts and edges.

Talk National Radio had announced yet another weather warning for drivers, bikers and pedestrians alike. Localised flooding in many parts of the country had been reported while in Oak Bridge a lorry had spilled a consignment of chemicals blocking the only route into the area. Police were warning people to avoid the area.

Cameron's mobile rang. It connected automatically to the handsfree device on the dashboard.

"Cam, it's Tone."

"Alright, Tony, I'm driving I'll call you back in a little while."

Cameron ended the call while exhaling a slow breath. "I told him not to call me." He made a note to switch the phone off altogether as soon as they were settled in. Tony was supposed to be taking care of the record label while Cameron was away. He pushed any thoughts of work aside. Andrew yawned, Smash Bricks hadn't held his interest. He'd become increasingly tired of the game. All he wanted to do at this point was to get settled in at the cottage and catch some sleep. Insomnia and early starts didn't mix well. It was Sod's Law that he wouldn't be able to sleep properly when an earlier start to the morning was called for. He'd become too used to little sleep, but after his stay in the hospital, he found the routine of regular medication and being woken for it, had helped. That was until he came back home.

He looked out of the window. Bracken Gate bordered Southern Wales and Cornwall. The motorway ended in an abrupt A road which cut through an old forest. Signs warning of horses and cattle dotted either side. An old wooden bus shelter painted green stood like a forgotten relic and Andrew wondered if the service still ran or, if like the majority of London's red telephone boxes, it was just part of the scenery. The forest gave way to wide open spaces that stretched as far as Andrew could see, which, given the weather, wasn't quite as far as usual. The landscapes were imprimpressive, thoughd the atmosphere created by the weather enhanced what was essentially a stone age view. They passed moors where distant hills were swathed in a thick silver haze.

Clusters of trees dotted moorland standing sentry among tall tufts of wild grass, which crept up between old grey rocks that jutted out like long forgotten grave markers. Further on, low holly bushes lined both sides of the road. It was a wild, untamed land which to Andrew was somehow magical

He was reminded of what was written on the tourist information site. It seemed the big thing in Bracken Gate was hill walking and nature reserves with varying degrees of wildlife habitats. The rabbits and foxes were a favourite among children on school field trips as were wild owls and newt ponds. A lot of the land was protected and cared for by the Bracken Trust. Although Andrew had grown up in an urban environment all his life he'd made himself a promise when he was twelve to see as much of the countryside as he could. Years later he had at least achieved this promise.  By habit he carried a notebook. Various notes took equal space with sketches. Eventually, this evolved and he built up a sketching kit and his drawing skills. He would always say that he sketched more for the quiet time it allowed his mind to focus. This in addition to his writing was the two things which, relaxed him and more importantly calmed his mind.

The village boasted both a local restaurant, Old Mab's Kitchen, and a public house called The Rifleman. Both sold local products and the pub had won prizes for its traditional ales. Andrew looked ruefully at the thickening sleet. A pint in a real countryside pub beside a blazing coal fire would be an ideal treat he thought as the car eased  into a lane. They were at the start of the village proper. Andrew could see the village square.

Windscreen wipers squeaked as they dragged rubber across the windscreen  leaving a rainbow shape in their  wake.

"Where's Levi?" Andrew looked out of the rear window, but could only see blurred shapes and headlights looking like stars floating on water.

"Three cars behind." Eve said.

Andrew turned back around. Wiping his passenger side window with the sleeve of his coat just as Cameron turned into Bracken Village. The car slowed further, passing a row of shops, and parked cars. Water collected in deep pools on the uneven surface of the lane. It was refreshing to see nothing in Bracken Village resembling anywhere he'd been before. Cloning of many places in towns and cities was a frequent irritation to Andrew. It was almost as if uniqueness and character were frowned upon. He sighed loudly at this thought.

"We'll soon have our feet up," Cameron said, taking a quick glance at Andrew in the rear view mirror and noting his friend's restlessness. But his friend seemed not to hear.

"Can we make a quick stop?" Andrew said. He'd seen a shop that caught his interest.

"That shop," he pointed to a place called Dalton's Surplus. "I want to get a couple  of things."

"If you want." Cameron said, shrugging at Eve's questioning glance.

Cameron parked up. Water flowed freely in the gutter as Andrew stepped out. A surge of cold air filled the car before the door closed.

Levi turned into the village passi g the square in time to see Andrew disappear inside the shop. After parking opposite Cameron he grabbed a cloth and wiped the inside of the windshield.  "Wait, there; be right back." He hopped out of the camper, closing the door, and began cleaning the outside of the windshield.

"Any idea what he wants with a surplus shop?" Eve asked.

"A plastic mac and Wellington boots," Cameron said, looking at the large pools of  water on the pitted lane.

Dalton's shop heaved with fishing gear, tackle boxes, gas masks, first aid kits, camping equipment, high viz jackets, hiking equipment and all kinds of odds and ends.

The shop keeper, in his twenties looked surprised to see a customer.

"Do you have those body warmers with the pockets?" Andrew asked.

"Far left corner," the shop keeper said pointing in the general direction.

"Thanks."

Andrew emerged, a couple of minutes later, from the shop holding two plastic bags. He saw Levi dutifully absorbed in his task. A mini bus Levi couldn't have seen sped past the square and was headed in his direction.

Andrew opened his mouth to shout a warning.

Levi obviously couldn't hear. The mini bus closed in and all anyone could do was watch.