EPISODE FORTY-ONE
1100 Words
FORTY-ONE
I buried them out on the farmland, not fifty yards from the place where they had died.
Bringing their stiffened bodies out of the farmhouse was a grisly job, but I managed it and laid them on the snow, while I dug a couple of shallow graves for them in the light of a torch I had found inside.
At first, I thought it would be impossible to dig out a deep enough hole, that frozen ringing surface would turn shovel blades as would a bar of iron, despite it being only eighteen inches.
Fortunately, I found a tractor in one of the sheds with a digging attachment, and after a few attempts started the engine and proceeded to dig a grave for my two friends.
Once I had covered the bodies, I mumbled my first attempt at a burial service, but my teeth chattered so hard in the cold, I just about pronounce the words I wanted to say.
As I left the farm, I thought deprecatingly, that divine forgiveness for my indecent haste remained doubtful to be withheld. I walked back in the direction of the town, taking the torch with me as the light started to darken.
Mũller had lied to me. The vaccine had been in fact a virus.
I needed Joanne
I understood why Roome, and Doctor Walton had died, and I had not.
My immune system would be far stronger than men in the twentieth century. With one virus after another being released from China, Russia, and North Korea, the twenty-ninth century human being, was immune to almost anything.
Old age was now the biggest killer in the future. The average living age is now eighty-five. Unless of course, I died during a conflict in the past.
I could not allow that to happen. The DARKNESS had to be stopped. He controlled the Thing.
That was obvious.
I would follow him through time to stop him.
*
Susan Stratton knew she should not be out walking on her own, but the curfew had felt so restrictive that she had had enough. Nobody, not even her husband, could restrain her for long.
The snow made the moorland seem wide, empty, and free. But the fog had started to close in around her. Susan found it close, oppressive, and stifling. What a difference a bit of sunshine would make, she thought as she reached the top of a shallow slope and looked down the other side of the gentle hill. She stood for a moment, taking in what appeared visible, before the mist became a blanket of cloud where getting lost would be so easy.
To one side, the small-wooded area and in the distance, and just about make out the cliffs and beyond them the sea. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the coastline, would be the smudge of the mainland.
Susan turned to look back the way she had come. The village would be too far away now. But she could ascertain the rather order layout of the fields of Prime Farm, the track that worked its way between them. And between the fields and herself, a figure approached.
Her first assumption was that it would be her husband, Nick. But she knew better than that. He would be sat in the comfort of his own home, warming himself by the fire and drinking himself to oblivion.
As the figure grew closer, she saw that it was a man, wearing clothes altogether too ordinary and drab to be her husband. She became fascinated by watching the figure slowly growing larger as he strode up the slope towards her. Only when he was within fifty yards of her, did Susan recognize him.
Truan Toogood.
For a moment Susan considered running. But at one she knew that would not be an option. Why should she, for one thing? And for another if he chose to chase Susan was sure his long legs would soon outrun hers. Better to let him pass by, then return to home to Nick.
She felt certain she had nothing to worry about.
Maybe.
She changed her mind when he spoke.
"On your own, are you?"
He called from twenty yards away.
"Yes."
Susan admitted. Certain her nervous voice did not carry to him.
"Where's your husband? Pissed again?"
"I'm meeting him soon."
She looked around, hoping he would think Nick would emerge from the landscape at any moment. With shrubland and bushes nearby, maybe she could convince him Nick might be hiding there, for some reason.
Truan shook his head.
"Saw him sitting in the room by the fire, when I ran past your window."
He smiled, all teeth and no effect on the eyes.
"Don't think he noticed me, though. Too Pissed."
"Oh."
Susan's voice was barely more than a squeak.
"I'd better go and find him then."
She set off down the hill, giving Truan a wide berth.
But he moved across at haste and grabbed her by the upper arm.
"There's no hurry."
His breath smelt rank. Everything about him stank.
"Yes, there is."
Susan said in a rush.
"I need to get back, let me go."
He did not.
"We're all going to die. If that 'Thing' does not get us, the fever will."
"What fever? What are you talking about?"
"The fever that got the Inspector and the Doctor. I saw it happen. Your boyfriend was there. None of us on this island have got much time left. So, why don't you and I have a little of fun?"
"No!"
Susan pulled her arm free and started to run. But before she had gone two steps, her head yanked back as he grabbed her hair, pulled her towards him. She screamed in surprise, fright, and pain as he fell backwards, collapsed against his body as he pulled her to him.
"We could have a lot of fun you and me. Once you have my c**k inside you, you won't want to go back to that husband of yours."
His eyes were wide, the blue of them seeming to deepen as he stared at her. His tongue whipped out and coated his lips with a thin film of saliva that glistened in the cold air. Then suddenly, his eyes widened, and he let go of her.
Susan jumped back at once, staring at him in horror and shock. Truan was shaking his head, his mouth opening and shutting. He looked past Susan, towards the scrubland. Susan turned, to see what he had seen that had stopped his assault.
Susan Stratton wanted to scream but nothing came out.
- Writer
