Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Three Mile Drove, Chapter Seven (standard:horror, 2864 words) [8/29] show all parts
Author: Brian CrossAdded: Aug 09 2006Views/Reads: 2766/1983Part 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.
previous part show all parts next part


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Brian Cross has 29 active stories on this site.
Profile for Brian Cross, incl. all stories
Email: briancroff@yahoo.co.uk

stories in "horror"   |   all stories by "Brian Cross"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy