Into the free. In the midnight hour
Some time between today, tomorrow and yesterday.
The hot sunny day had turned into a cool cloudless night; I regretted not bringing a shawl or something to wrap around my exposed shoulders so I hugged my arms across my chest to conserve body heat. The moon was so bright I could easily navigate the country road away from the village square, which was fortuitous because in my slightly inebriated state I could not fully remember which way to go. A cool gust brought me to a haul before I redoubled my efforts to get home.
The uneven path running along the side of the road disappeared at the junction and I was left to walk the track on the road; now are you supposed to walk with traffic or against it when on country roads? luckily it was late and no traffic could be seen or heard. I swore as a pothole caused me to wobble on my feet and then let loose a torrent of curses learnt from a dark book of magic as I tumbled into a second hole and the heel from my shoe snapped clean off. I hoped some of the curses flew to either the shoe makers or the council road crews.
The canopy of nature covered over the lane and the bright moon light shining across the cracked tarmac was reduced as puddles of inky darkness took control of my vision. Trees of silver frame reflected the only light and appeared to me to be stood in rows like a cage keeping me in. I walked closer to the trees, focusing on the light they gave and using them to steer me straight while I kept the now vivid black straight in front. I kept going like this as my path wrived confusingly and I was sure the return leg was longer than the original but all hope of seeing the gate house on my right just around the next corner kept me going. There were a lot of next corners.
The trees thinned and this I was sure was the junction for the lane that led to my accommodation, I stepped faster into the lines of moonlight that flowed down like mist off a waterfall. A tree, thick and gnarled stood squarely to my front, at first I was confused because I did not remember a tree in the road and then I could see more as my eyes adjusted.
A regeneration zone (I think it was a term from a lazy doze in a geography class a decade ago, or I've just made it up as my mind tried to workout how/why/where I currently stood) in a very well established forest. A spin gave my hope of getting home soon a real knock; trees, darkness, and a sense I had taken a seriously wrong turn all pilled up and it a real kicking. Turning around I really wanted to use the line of trees to guide me back out but they weren't there, not in the line I was hoping for and they had lost their illuminations.
Plan B. Phone from bag, 20% charge left and.......yes, a signal with 4G.
'Where am I?' I typed into a mapping app, shortly after a large arrow appeared in the middle of my screen which raised to show a satellite image of a forest (well done modern technology, glad you're here to help, I'd have never worked that out on my own). I swiped my fingers open across the screen and the image zoomed out; nearest village was......Wykham and a river created a line stretching from left to right (no idea where North was so left and right will have to do). Yes, scrolling the screen along the blue line gave a familiar square house down a very long lane with a gate house and, to my surprise a very large managed estate where the river ran into a pond before disappearing back into the uniformed pattern of trees. Of a road, there was no sign, this being a satellite picture the road ran under the heavy cover from foliage, I couldn't make out where it started or any junctions. I typed into the search bar a request for a route finder and was rewarded with a loud beep, 5% battery power left. That had dropped to 3% by the time the screen loaded, a burning sensation rose in my throat and I could feel a physical sickness engulfing me.
"Quick!" I exclaimed shaking my phone to get the little goblins that live inside to hurry up.
The goblins retaliated by retracting internet reception and the screen went grey.
'The page you requested could not be displayed. Please check your connection and try again.' it told me.
I scared three rabbits and a badger with the noise I projected into the dark woods. The phone was shaken to within an inch of its life just in case there really were goblins inside laughing at me.
*
The river was easy to find. I used all my training as an investigator to track down the signs and clues of which way the river was by looking for animal tracks heading to and from the water and where more verdant plants were at their thickest......that and I stumbled down a shallow bank and put my leg up to my knee into it. The mud was thick and if I had been wearing shoes I would have lost it; so that was lucky wasn't it.
"Great." I said allowed. "Stuck in the woods and soaking wet and as muddy as a child planting vegetables with their Dad." at least its good for the skin. "Grrrrrrr."
"Grrrrrr." came a reply. At first I didn't realise in my frustration. I didn't know what I had said out loud and what I was muttering in my head.
"Oww. nnnnnnn grrrr." I vocalised.
This time I did hear the reply; it was a low moan somewhere in mid distance.
"Hello." I called, relieved there was someone local out who could assist in my temporary navigation disarrangements. "Can you help me? I seem to be a little lost here."
Shit I thought. What if its Jed out there or one of his gang up to misadventures, would I be safe with them? Shit shit, it could be those brothers of the axe men. I knew I should have found out what they did at night; hopefully they were only poachers and as such quick to flee it spotted.
Remember the training, I thought. I'm in a strange location with person or persons unknown. I have no 'assistance' or anyway of getting any. So what would Xanthic do now? Probably go striding in full of confidence and either talk his way out of trouble or swing a punch and get out of trouble; that or make a new friend (which still happened even after a well aimed swing followed by a round in the local).
I opted to walk forward to find out who was there. Stay safe, words I have just decided to live my life by. The noise was coming from along the bank so I followed around the river bank in the general direction. I skirted a large expanse of mud and walked into a hawthorn bush; the long woody whips caught me and painful needles raked at my exposed flesh, my dress offered no protection.
The moonlight shone like daylight across a bend in the river, there was a long mud bank, barren of anything bar exposed roots of a tree long since fallen and washed away. On the long flat back was a badger, grunting and snorting in a way I never knew could happen outside my uncle Dave on a treadmill to win back his pizza and beer privileges after Auntie Sue had to pull plastic garden furniture off him one summer.
It was snout deep into large fish, flapping around as the badger opened it out and ripped large mouthfuls from it. It was fascinating viewing, the way it used its paws to grip and hold the fish as it effortlessly ripped chunks off and devoured them.
I relaxed, which was a mistake as a very forward thorn pierced a very tender spot on my inner thigh. The noise I made leaping up caused the badger to turn and growl, baring its teeth. It was a huge animal, much bigger than I expected watching them on night-vision on wildlife programs shuffling around back gardens. It was also one of the most terrifying things I could remember at that point in my life; my heart raced and I went cold knowing I could not defend myself here, nor anywhere against such a creature. Muscles tensed under its fur; it was all muscle and solid.
I should be safe here, I thought, it wouldn't come into this bush. I was right, it didn't.
A wave surged forth from the mirror smooth river and engulfed the creature in a wash. A scream gave out from within the cascade and as the water drained into the mud a sleek body slipped back into the river. The badger was no longer a threat, not with half of it now missing.
With difficulty I removed myself from the hawthorn and stupidly rushed forward to look at what had happened. There was a lot of churned mud, holes pushed down and gouges made by something pulling itself out and then back into the water.
"Fuck." I said out loud, no longer worried about secrecy as I reached for my phone to activate the camera. Not enough power to launch it or give me light to look. I knelt down bringing my face closer to the badger, it was dead, nothing could have lost that much of itself and be anything other; I looked at hole in its side, I had no idea what I was looking at or for. Why doesn't life reflect TV shows? There was no claw or tooth conveniently left stuck into the remaining fur; neither did whatever it was make a easily identifiable noise like "meow" or "howl" like the wild predators always do just as the hero arrives on the scene. Cursing again, this time at getting mud all over my hands and knees I wondered how I got myself into these situations. How did I go from a good night out with the girls to rolling in the mud with a dead badger inches from my face.
A tap tap tap beat rippled along the surface of the river and I looked over the still water. A shadow passed under it and came about, it disappeared further under then a surge of water swept across the bank, covering me head to foot and tossing me backwards like a sock in a washing machine. When I looked up the shadow was gone as was the badger; what was left of it anyway, what was left was two lined gouges, like fingers dragged through sand, on the mud bank.
'Úgh'' I ejaculated as I whipped my arms about causing lines of water to be flung from my fingertips which glittered like moonlight as it fell to the floor. There was no one around, so i shook like a dog, something I have enjoyed doing since i was a little girl. More water drops escaped my body and curved to the ground shining like small and brief lived comets.
Bedraggled and with confidence I was going to develop pneumonia by morning I stumped off into the night looking for home, assistance and in the hope towels grew on trees.
The hot sunny day had turned into a cool cloudless night; I regretted not bringing a shawl or something to wrap around my exposed shoulders so I hugged my arms across my chest to conserve body heat. The moon was so bright I could easily navigate the country road away from the village square, which was fortuitous because in my slightly inebriated state I could not fully remember which way to go. A cool gust brought me to a haul before I redoubled my efforts to get home.
The uneven path running along the side of the road disappeared at the junction and I was left to walk the track on the road; now are you supposed to walk with traffic or against it when on country roads? luckily it was late and no traffic could be seen or heard. I swore as a pothole caused me to wobble on my feet and then let loose a torrent of curses learnt from a dark book of magic as I tumbled into a second hole and the heel from my shoe snapped clean off. I hoped some of the curses flew to either the shoe makers or the council road crews.
The canopy of nature covered over the lane and the bright moon light shining across the cracked tarmac was reduced as puddles of inky darkness took control of my vision. Trees of silver frame reflected the only light and appeared to me to be stood in rows like a cage keeping me in. I walked closer to the trees, focusing on the light they gave and using them to steer me straight while I kept the now vivid black straight in front. I kept going like this as my path wrived confusingly and I was sure the return leg was longer than the original but all hope of seeing the gate house on my right just around the next corner kept me going. There were a lot of next corners.
The trees thinned and this I was sure was the junction for the lane that led to my accommodation, I stepped faster into the lines of moonlight that flowed down like mist off a waterfall. A tree, thick and gnarled stood squarely to my front, at first I was confused because I did not remember a tree in the road and then I could see more as my eyes adjusted.
A regeneration zone (I think it was a term from a lazy doze in a geography class a decade ago, or I've just made it up as my mind tried to workout how/why/where I currently stood) in a very well established forest. A spin gave my hope of getting home soon a real knock; trees, darkness, and a sense I had taken a seriously wrong turn all pilled up and it a real kicking. Turning around I really wanted to use the line of trees to guide me back out but they weren't there, not in the line I was hoping for and they had lost their illuminations.
Plan B. Phone from bag, 20% charge left and.......yes, a signal with 4G.
'Where am I?' I typed into a mapping app, shortly after a large arrow appeared in the middle of my screen which raised to show a satellite image of a forest (well done modern technology, glad you're here to help, I'd have never worked that out on my own). I swiped my fingers open across the screen and the image zoomed out; nearest village was......Wykham and a river created a line stretching from left to right (no idea where North was so left and right will have to do). Yes, scrolling the screen along the blue line gave a familiar square house down a very long lane with a gate house and, to my surprise a very large managed estate where the river ran into a pond before disappearing back into the uniformed pattern of trees. Of a road, there was no sign, this being a satellite picture the road ran under the heavy cover from foliage, I couldn't make out where it started or any junctions. I typed into the search bar a request for a route finder and was rewarded with a loud beep, 5% battery power left. That had dropped to 3% by the time the screen loaded, a burning sensation rose in my throat and I could feel a physical sickness engulfing me.
"Quick!" I exclaimed shaking my phone to get the little goblins that live inside to hurry up.
The goblins retaliated by retracting internet reception and the screen went grey.
'The page you requested could not be displayed. Please check your connection and try again.' it told me.
I scared three rabbits and a badger with the noise I projected into the dark woods. The phone was shaken to within an inch of its life just in case there really were goblins inside laughing at me.
*
The river was easy to find. I used all my training as an investigator to track down the signs and clues of which way the river was by looking for animal tracks heading to and from the water and where more verdant plants were at their thickest......that and I stumbled down a shallow bank and put my leg up to my knee into it. The mud was thick and if I had been wearing shoes I would have lost it; so that was lucky wasn't it.
"Great." I said allowed. "Stuck in the woods and soaking wet and as muddy as a child planting vegetables with their Dad." at least its good for the skin. "Grrrrrrr."
"Grrrrrr." came a reply. At first I didn't realise in my frustration. I didn't know what I had said out loud and what I was muttering in my head.
"Oww. nnnnnnn grrrr." I vocalised.
This time I did hear the reply; it was a low moan somewhere in mid distance.
"Hello." I called, relieved there was someone local out who could assist in my temporary navigation disarrangements. "Can you help me? I seem to be a little lost here."
Shit I thought. What if its Jed out there or one of his gang up to misadventures, would I be safe with them? Shit shit, it could be those brothers of the axe men. I knew I should have found out what they did at night; hopefully they were only poachers and as such quick to flee it spotted.
Remember the training, I thought. I'm in a strange location with person or persons unknown. I have no 'assistance' or anyway of getting any. So what would Xanthic do now? Probably go striding in full of confidence and either talk his way out of trouble or swing a punch and get out of trouble; that or make a new friend (which still happened even after a well aimed swing followed by a round in the local).
I opted to walk forward to find out who was there. Stay safe, words I have just decided to live my life by. The noise was coming from along the bank so I followed around the river bank in the general direction. I skirted a large expanse of mud and walked into a hawthorn bush; the long woody whips caught me and painful needles raked at my exposed flesh, my dress offered no protection.
The moonlight shone like daylight across a bend in the river, there was a long mud bank, barren of anything bar exposed roots of a tree long since fallen and washed away. On the long flat back was a badger, grunting and snorting in a way I never knew could happen outside my uncle Dave on a treadmill to win back his pizza and beer privileges after Auntie Sue had to pull plastic garden furniture off him one summer.
It was snout deep into large fish, flapping around as the badger opened it out and ripped large mouthfuls from it. It was fascinating viewing, the way it used its paws to grip and hold the fish as it effortlessly ripped chunks off and devoured them.
I relaxed, which was a mistake as a very forward thorn pierced a very tender spot on my inner thigh. The noise I made leaping up caused the badger to turn and growl, baring its teeth. It was a huge animal, much bigger than I expected watching them on night-vision on wildlife programs shuffling around back gardens. It was also one of the most terrifying things I could remember at that point in my life; my heart raced and I went cold knowing I could not defend myself here, nor anywhere against such a creature. Muscles tensed under its fur; it was all muscle and solid.
I should be safe here, I thought, it wouldn't come into this bush. I was right, it didn't.
A wave surged forth from the mirror smooth river and engulfed the creature in a wash. A scream gave out from within the cascade and as the water drained into the mud a sleek body slipped back into the river. The badger was no longer a threat, not with half of it now missing.
With difficulty I removed myself from the hawthorn and stupidly rushed forward to look at what had happened. There was a lot of churned mud, holes pushed down and gouges made by something pulling itself out and then back into the water.
"Fuck." I said out loud, no longer worried about secrecy as I reached for my phone to activate the camera. Not enough power to launch it or give me light to look. I knelt down bringing my face closer to the badger, it was dead, nothing could have lost that much of itself and be anything other; I looked at hole in its side, I had no idea what I was looking at or for. Why doesn't life reflect TV shows? There was no claw or tooth conveniently left stuck into the remaining fur; neither did whatever it was make a easily identifiable noise like "meow" or "howl" like the wild predators always do just as the hero arrives on the scene. Cursing again, this time at getting mud all over my hands and knees I wondered how I got myself into these situations. How did I go from a good night out with the girls to rolling in the mud with a dead badger inches from my face.
A tap tap tap beat rippled along the surface of the river and I looked over the still water. A shadow passed under it and came about, it disappeared further under then a surge of water swept across the bank, covering me head to foot and tossing me backwards like a sock in a washing machine. When I looked up the shadow was gone as was the badger; what was left of it anyway, what was left was two lined gouges, like fingers dragged through sand, on the mud bank.
*
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