The Left or Right Game

Episode 4

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 10/02/2017

(Possible Opening) (I want to address you, the listener, for a moment, with an advance notice concerning the following episode. I'm sure it's not been lost on you that every installment of the series so far has played host to some strange, unexplainable occurrence, and spanned a great many miles of travel. It goes without saying this has been by design. I've been summarising the countless hours of uneventful meandering and taking extra care to document the strange phenomena we've encountered along the way. I wanted the story to be fast moving, to have a real feel of progress with every chapter.

If that sense of exploratory intrigue is why you're listening to this show, I completely understand. I'm certain it's a primary draw for almost all of you; the twists, the turns, the mysterious, strange encounters along an impossible road.

But if that is the case, I feel it's my duty to inform you that, apart from a few notable exceptions, there will be almost no ground covered in this segment, and the monsters we encounter will be all too human; stress, divisiveness, discomfort and, as one might imagine, grief.

If you want to read the synopsis of this episode on the website and wait for the next part, then you'll be all caught up and I'm sure we'll be back on our way, heading once more into the great unknown. But I feel it's important to give the aftermath of Ace's capture its own episode, in part due to the significance of the revelations that are unearthed in its wake, but also as a gesture of deference to the man we lost.

This is the story of our second night on the road.)

As we make the left turn, the horrifying space behind us is quickly replaced by a quiet emptiness ahead. The Wrangler crawls, defeated, toward the waiting convoy. The remaining four cars are parked haphazardly, taking up more than half the road. Rob drifts to the far end of the tarmac, looking to overtake and resume formation. Both of his hands rest on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on some distant point in space. It's not hard to imagine that behind the focus and the quiet control, there's a man in turmoil, a man who can't bring himself to say anything, in fear of saying too much.

AS: This is Bristol to all cars. We're heading back on the road. Get yourselves in formation and make way for those around you. We've got a while to drive before we stop for the night.

LILITH: Bristol where's Ro... Ferryman?

AS: Ferryman's here.

APOLLO: Where's Ace?

AS: Ace is... Ace didn't make it across.

APOLLO: Uhh what?

LILITH: What the fuck? Bristol where is he?

It would be simple to describe what had taken place, or at least summarise the barest facts; what happened to Ace, where he is now, why he isn't coming back. But for some reason, I can't utter a word about what's transpired. Something about the event itself makes it impossible to retell, as if the requisite phrases have been locked behind glass.

AS: We need to get to the stopping point. It isn't safe to stay here.

Shortly after we'd turned the corner out of Sycamore Row, Rob implied that the rest of the days' drive would be uneventful. Had he waited just a few minutes longer, he would have been entirely correct. We're on the road for another four hours, both of us quietly attending to our own preoccupations as the forest gradually thins out. The landscape gives way to rolling cornfields, that stretch out beyond the horizon on both sides.