The Hand and the Hatchet

Chapter 13

When the strange orange path ceased and met a line of plain dirt, they stopped and ate and drank. Bell only had a meagre supply of food left, and that was rapidly dwindling. He reckoned he had a day and a half of eating 'well' left. He could possibly stretch that if he had to. Water wasn't so much of a problem in England. In the few precious months in which it wasn't pouring with rain, finding a lake or reservoir and purifying the water was easy. The old house had had rain traps and water collectors dotted around the estate, and they'd never run short. They packed up, making sure to hide their waste so they couldn't be tracked, and carried on. They walked down a path that veered sharply right, and came upon the huge house. It was made of a smooth, pale stone, with an elegant roof of darkened slate. Some of the windows had caved in, but for the most part they were still there, and from the sills a dark stain ran down the light walls, as if the windows were leaking black tears. It was an extravagant display of the power of man, all arches and angles and expense. Bell found it quite ironic. It seemed vanity and pride had run throughout the whole of humanity. There didn't seem to have been any break ins and they couldn't see any signs of people. Between them and the house was the hedge-choked fence, and small brook, and then the actual walls and doors themselves. The fence proved less than a challenge, as they walked up and down it until they found a hole large enough to crawl through. The brook however, Bell found far more difficult. Ant took a small run up and leaped across it easily, landing on the other side without so much as a stumble. Bell took a similar run up, and made the jump, a bit lower on the bank, and dug his fingers into the mud to stop himself sliding down, which he did anyway, the ground to soft to be a good anchor, and his left foot plunged into the water. Ant started laughing, and Bell grumbled as he dragged himself up the bank and wiped his muddy hands on the grass. They had a look around the house for any broken windows on the ground floor, but there wasn't any. Ant suggested they look for a fire ladder, as he didn't want to break anything if he didn't have to, and then Bell had a thought. He walked back around the front, and when he realised what he was doing, Ant said

"it can't be that easy"

Bell walked up to the grand front door, a mass affair of oak and metal, twisted the handle down, and pushed the door open smoothly.

"It's that easy" Bell said, stepping inside and holding the door.

"Yeah alright I get it" Ant said as he walked in. He seemed to know where he was going.

"You seem to know where you're going" Bell said, more a question than a statement.

"Remember that stash I told you about?"

"No?"

"That stuff me and Lance buried. I told you, back at George's" Ant said, stood still looking at Bell.

"Oh yeah, I remember now. Wait, it's here?"

"Yeah, it's close"

"So where is it?"

"I'm tryna remember"

"Ah" Bell said, looking around the room they were in in order to let Ant remember in peace.

It wasn't a stately home like Bell had thought. It looked like it had been at one time, but that time was long past. It seemed to be more of a hotel now, with the space they currently occupied some kind of lobby. To his left there was a thick desk which filled a whole corner, and to his right a collection of armchairs and coffee tables. The carpet was once white, or cream-coloured, but now was grey from dust. The whole place was dark, the windows and drawn curtains throwing odd shafts of light at strange angles. Straight ahead was a corridor, one lone window at the end, also with its curtains shut. From inside, the light looked blinding white. The lobby had a large fireplace around which the chairs were clustered. The shaft for the smoke ran up the wall and into the ceiling. On closer inspection, Bell realised there was evidence of people staying here once, a few blankets thrown over the chairs and food wrappers and tins strewn around. Maybe someone had left in a hurry. The semi-blue light gave the place an eerie feel. The knowledge that even the air in here hadn't moved in a long time added to the atmosphere. He felt like a trespasser.