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Three Mile Drove, Chapter Seven (standard:horror, 2864 words) [8/29] show all parts | |||
Author: Brian Cross | Added: Aug 09 2006 | Views/Reads: 3035/2186 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Set in fenland, continuation ofa horror story consisting of inbreeding, abduction, incest and murder | |||
CHAPTER SIX A strong wind had lifted the clouds by the time Darren left the Fox and Hounds to meet Tim McPherson. Walking to his car he felt as though he was viewing things from afar, traces of his nightmare continued sweeping around his mind like the gusty aftermath of a powerful storm. He drove through the village noting the queue that had formed outside the post office. It seemed to consist mainly of elderly people but even so, he thought, if you lived in a small village like this you would know at what point in time the queue dwindled. So why did they do it? But it was a question in any case that he wasn't qualified to answer, he just wouldn't have the patience to stand, breathing down the neck of someone, who when viewed from the rear might have been a lifeless sculpture. In any case, life was slipping by while you were static, in moron mode. Speaking for himself he'd leave it until later, he'd have done a little basic research, nothing too mind boggling, he'd have found out at what time the queue dwindled, so he could walk straight in. Simple really. He shook his head, grateful at least that other people's peculiarities had momentarily taken his mind off his nightmare, then he drove on. He was a couple of hundred yards away when he spotted McPherson; such was the unerring straightness and flatness of the region you could probably spot a rabbit at that distance. As he got closer Darren could see that he was gazing across land to the rear of Three Mile Drove, his hands hidden in the pockets of his fawn anorak, his medium length fair hair blowing fiercely in the wind. Darren parked his Jeep behind McPherson's blue Rover, pulling in onto an earth bank just before a left bend in the road from where Three Mile Drove led off to the right. His leg still stiff from his fall the evening before, he hobbled painfully across the small junction to where McPherson stood. The policeman turned on his approach and must have seen him grimace, ‘That bad eh?' Darren blew his cheeks out and sighed, ‘No, not really, it could have been worse. I thought yesterday I might have torn a ligament, but I think it's just stiff. It'll be okay.' ‘Sleep well?' McPherson asked. Darren looked at him in surprise, that McPherson should even pose the question prompted him to wonder whether the man had some sort of sixth sense. But of course, that was wildly imaginative; McPherson was merely going through the ritual of pleasantries. ‘Not bad,' he muttered, choosing not to comment on the fact that he'd suffered the worst nightmare of his life. In actual fact, the accommodation provided had been of a reasonable standard and his room had been comfortable, a cosy refuge from the stresses he suffered earlier. It was probably just unfortunate that his overburdened mind had chosen to discharge its mental waste amidst the cosy surroundings of the place. Deeply preoccupied with his thoughts, Darren had been gazing across the farmland, beyond which, carried on the wind he could just hear the distant rumble of traffic on the A10. He turned to find McPherson with his back to him, looking out across the fields to the rear of Three Mile Drove in much the same vein as before, only this time he was observing the area through a pair of field glasses. Darren drew alongside of McPherson who was some four inches taller in stature, and in direct contrast to his stocky frame, dark curly hair and broad face, the policeman was long-legged with smooth youthful ‘There's something damned strange going on out there,' McPherson said, having lowered the binoculars to his side, ‘and what happened to you last night was just a small part of it. I'm not playing the incident down mind you, Darren.' He paused, as if assessing Darren's current state and finding him wanting, ‘Do you feel fit enough to take a stroll or shall we drive? It's just that I'd rather not announce our presence if at all possible.' Darren shrugged and pulled his leather jacket around him to counter the Click here to read the rest of this story (213 more lines)
This is part 8 of a total of 29 parts. | ||
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