The Pole Shift

John

John and Mr Jobling waited behind the bonnet of a car on it’s side. There was a stench about them that set off primordial alarm bells and John wanted to get onto the Island, race up to the man and warn he was about to be murdered. When they watched him though, something was not right. Even from distance they could see him stagger.  Mr Jobling exclaimed:

        “He’s drunk!” Then laughed, he then made an excuse for the man, as if he wondered what he’d be like in the same position.  “I suppose it’s understandable. I wonder what he’s drinking?” The middle age man was lost in his own thoughts for a while then instructed John on what he wanted him to do: “Listen boy, I’m going to tackle him myself, but before I do I want you to check out the house, see if anyone is in there, see the top window?” They established that John would give him a thumbs up if it was clear, or come back if not. John was thinking hard, should he race to the man? Perhaps he could just hide somewhere, become like a fox boy, establishing a network of tunnels and sneaking food and never really being seen. That seemed like a future plan, for now John thought that he’d race into the house, find the nearest bed and hide under it. Mr Jobling seemed to sense John’s thoughts:

        “John, take a look around, this is a home. We have two woman and four men, although Old Harry Knowles is probably a bit passed it. We can start again here, clear the table and start again. That man is on our table. Understand?”

        “Kill the man, start again, I get it.” Mr Jobling having heard the plan from the mouth of a immature thirteen year old boy looked apologetic, he mumbled something under his breath then snapped at John to make a break for it. John clumsily weaved his way down the wall, scrapping skin and making a din, then he fell to the old driveway with an oomph. He had lost sight of the man at the top of the hill, but another figure appeared from behind the house. A woman! She was only wearing what looked like a flimsy T shirt that fell to her thighs, she moved gracefully up the lawn, towards the man under the trees. He was torn, should he warn her? There came a hiss from atop the wall. John enacted his simple plan, find a bed and hide under it,  and went inside.

        The house was a mess, it had been flooded and not cleaned properly, it stank. On the bottom floor was a nest of clothes in front of a cold fire. The kitchen was vile, why hadn’t the man kept things clean? This might be the last house on Earth! He continued his survey, there was stairs leading down, a cellar, a dank light bled from its depths and John shivered, scooting away. He found the stairs leading up, all his instincts told him to hide. Surely there would be a good place up there? Halfway up the stairs there came a noise from behind, John caught his breath hard and slowly turned, a kooky female was frowning up at him. She had one leg on the first stair and was also wearing a T shirt and little else. What sort of Island was this? Her mobile face twitched from aggression then lightened as she judged him.

        “Hello.” She said.