Three Mile Drove, Chapter Five (standard:horror, 3009 words) [6/29] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Jun 04 2006	Views/Reads: 2682/2011	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Continuation of a completed horror story

THREE MILE DROVE 

CHAPTER FIVE 

Darren guided his vehicle warily back along the narrow drove, paying
particular attention to the area from which he thought the missile was 
thrown. Of course, he couldn't see a thing out there, everything was in 
total darkness. Total darkness that was, apart from a faint light that 
flickered somewhere off to his right. His curiosity aroused, he slowed 
the Jeep to a crawl. The glimmer was coming from an upstairs window of 
a house some distance back from the road, though the light was so faint 
and wavering that it had to be candlelight. Jesus, he thought, did 
everyone in the outback do without electricity. The concept was as 
unreal to him as the landscape. 

He soon found out that that wasn't the case, as approaching the top of
the drove he saw to his right, the bright lights of a double fronted 
bungalow. Both sets were on, he could see the chandeliers gleaming, and 
the laced curtains were tied back. He'd not seen the place when he was 
driving in, but that was presumably because he was too intent on 
reaching his destination. Positioned where it was however, it did 
provide the barren area with at least an element of respectability. 

By contrast to what he'd just experienced, the home lights of the
village looked cosy and welcoming as he drove into it. Darren 
considered that the most knowledgeable source of information at this 
hour was likely to be provided by the landlord of the pub in the 
village centre, providing that was, because of his appearance he didn't 
think he as a newly arrived vagrant who couldn't afford the price of a 
pint, let alone a night's accommodation. 

As he turned towards the car park Darren thought about the attractive
dark haired woman he'd met briefly a couple of hours earlier. He 
wondered whether she might be in the pub now. If so, he wouldn't want 
her to see him in such a dishevelled state, but the simple fact that he 
should be thinking in such a way brought a flush of colour to his 
cheeks. Why should it matter to him in any case? He'd always regarded 
himself as the rough and ready kind, so just why was he thinking in 
such a manner? 

He searched for a logical reason and thought he'd come up with one. He
was tired he decided. This was a strange environment to say the least, 
and all he was experiencing was the need of a friendly face to make him 
feel less alienated. 

Fine, but he couldn't convince himself of that. 

There were one or two cars in the car park as he pulled in, though no
trace of the white Vauxhall Astra he'd seen her heading for earlier. 

He walked through the main entrance and swung right, opening the door to
the bar he'd been into earlier. She wasn't inside, neither were the 
four farm-hands who'd regarded him so suspiciously earlier. Now the 
clientele appeared to consist of mainly elderly people, the eyes of 
most of whom became fixed on him as he limped in. 

‘What can I get you?' the barman, a large, stout, balding man wearing an
old brown sweater, interrupted his conversation with two old men 
sitting on stools, and eyed him warily. 

Darren noticed how the general hum of conversation had dropped away as
though an invisible “quiet please” board had been placed in the bar. He 
felt his blood rising, what was it with these people that a solitary 
stranger could cause so much curiosity, and it seemed resentment? 
Alright, he might look scruffy, but no more so than the four yokels 
he'd met earlier. Were these people relics from a bygone age or was he 
the one who'd suddenly been plunged back in time? 

‘I'll have a pint of bitter,' Darren muttered, forgetting for a moment
why he'd come, then almost as an afterthought, ‘I'm looking for 
accommodation for the night, do you know of anywhere?' 

The barman tilted the glass and levered the pump. He sighed as if he'd
been asked the million quid question, ‘You can try the Fox and Hounds 
at the crossroads, it's the only place you'll find around these parts. 


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