Interrupted Journey

Chapter 2 - Walk

The atmosphere had changed markedly as we made our way back across town. There was much less laughing and much more scowling as the first inkling of the scale of the problems gradually dawned on people. The crowd gathered around the supermarket had become positively hostile and I carefully steered James across to the other side of the road to avoid it.

The first part of the route was quite familiar to me. Mary and I had hiked over to Mike's several times when we were first married, returning the next day, slightly the worse for wear, after a night of partying with her army mates.

We crossed the ring road at a footbridge and, after looking down on the stationary cars for a few seconds, pressed on towards the East. Leaving the suburbs, we joined a path that climbed up through a golf course and I was surprised to see several people were still playing. I thought about trying to warn them about what was going on but decided there was no point. They were going to find out soon enough

It was a chilly afternoon but not too cold. At least the spits and spats of rain that had been about in the morning had dried up. By the time we reached the top of the golf course, a watery sun had come out and we were starting to warm up. Here our path joined a well maintained track and twenty minutes later we had reached the first low hills.

At first James forged ahead. Since Mary's death he had become very protective of his younger sister and he was worried about her. To encourage him to take short rests, I asked him to check to see whether he could see any cars moving in the valleys to our left.

At the first couple of viewpoints, there was nothing much to be seen but at the third, James paused for slightly longer. "What's that?" he asked at last.

I looked down into the broad, wooded valley and, a few miles to the north, I could see a column of smoke rising. Taking out the pair of children's binoculars, I could make out flames at the base of the column and a scar across the wooded landscape. It was not a very long scar.

I thought for a moment about what to say and, not seeing any convincing alternatives, decided on the full truth.

"It looks like a plane has crashed - probably had its electronics cooked too."

"Shouldn't we go and help?"

"It looks as if it came pretty much straight down," I told him, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. "That's not the sort of thing people are going to be walking away from."

"Oh," he said. He stood in silence for several seconds.

The sight of the crashed plane seemed to have taken a lot out of James and the spring had gone out of his step as we pressed on. Though he was doing his best, he was starting to get tired and moving quite slowly. I tried to help with a regular supply of the boiled sweets but by the time we reached the ridge above Amberford, the sun had set and it was becoming quite cold.

We paused for a while as I looked down on the town. There was a small crowd of people gathered round a fire at a road junction a short distance below us and something about them made me feel uneasy. I thought for a moment then made my mind up.

"I think we should stay up here for the night and go into town in the morning," I told James. "It'll be dark soon and I don't know what we're going to do if Mike's not home."

There was just a vague grunt from James by way of reply. I looked round to see he had collapsed on the grass, past caring.

"Come on," I said, rubbing his hair to wake him up. "Let's get some proper food in you and get you into bed."

I found a quiet spot, back from the path and concealed by some bushes so we weren't immediately visible. I put up the tent while James ate a couple of slices of the Pizza, almost falling asleep as he ate.

"Bed, you," I said, hauling him to his feet.

"Are we going to be alright?" James asked as he climbed into the foil sleeping bag without bothering to undress.

"I don't know." I answered. I didn't know what else to say. "We're just going to have to do the best we can."

I sat on the grass and ate the rest of the Pizza.

Since Mary's death I've generally made sure I had plenty to do to keep the worst of my depressive tendencies at bay but, as I sat there, the worries merged with happy memories and I became quite emotional until I could take it no more.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I took out the rifle and, as dusk gathered, I started to inspect it.

It was partially disassembled and had been kept in a sealed plastic bag which, I hoped, had given it at least some protection. I had no way of cleaning it so I carefully inspected all the components then assembled it.

I was shaken out of my daydream by the sound of an engine, startlingly loud in the evening stillness. It was obviously old but running beautifully smoothly and the sound alone told me that it was somebody's pride and joy. I jumped to my feet and hurried back to the path.