“Okay, shall we take a break for a few minutes, look out at the view?” Suggested Gary, pointing back down the trail, towards Coldsleet, and the Irish sea. “I was just thinking that, in the summer, we should take a trip out to the Baylin Peninsula, visit the beaches there.” He suggested. “You can see the Peninsula from here. Look.” Said Gary, and he pointed past the town below, over to the horizon. None of his friends seemed interested in what he was saying. Alex took a bottle of water from out of his backpack and began drinking from it. Mary stood next to him, holding his hand. Shark wandered off the pathway, over to a thin, twisting brook that was running parallel to the trail. She stood on the edge of the stream, then knelt down and put her hands into the icy water.
Shark cupped some of the water in her hands, bringing it up to her mouth. She tasted the liquid.
“Fresh mountain water. Can’t beat it.” Said Shark. Gary Ackley came walking over to her.
“This is Sleet River. Well, it’s not quite a river here, obviously, but if you were to follow it back down the hill, and to the south for ten, eleven miles, this opens out into the Hingley Estuary. That’s another place worth visiting. There’s a nature reserve there, loads of wildlife to see, rare species, that sort of thing… do you enjoy stuff like that, Shark?” Asked Gary. Shark nodded her head.
“Yeah, love it. I grew up in a city, but I’d always been fascinated by the countryside, nature… that’s one of the things that appealed to me when I moved up here with Mike… Coldsleet was right on the edge of all that type of stuff. Problem is, I haven’t really had much of a chance to explore what’s outside Coldsleet, so far.” Said Shark. Gary smiled.
“Well, we’ll soon change all of that.” He told her.
Mary and Alex wandered over to the stream.
“Are you two ready to push on?” Asked Gary. Mary and Alex nodded their heads.
“Okay. Well, the good news is that, once we reach the brow of the hill up ahead, it’s all flatland for the next few miles, until we hit Coldsleet Moor, but even that isn’t anything too strenuous. The really hard work will come tomorrow, when we have to ascend Knighton Mountain.” Gary said, giving a knowing glance to Alex Crennell. Just the mention of Knighton Mountain sent a shudder down Alex’s spine, as he recalled how the climb, and subsequent descent, of the peak, felt, at the time, like it was slowly killing him. No beer tonight, thought Alex, no beer tonight at all, coz I’m not walking up that fucking thing tomorrow with a hangover. “Okay, lads and lasses. Shall we carry on?” Gary asked, in an upbeat voice.
“Let’s go.” Replied Alex, with fake enthusiasm. Shark and Gary took the lead, walking away from the River Sleet, and back towards the Black Pathway, with Alex and Mary following on behind. The four re-joined the trail, continuing their trek up Leeton Hill. Not far behind them, hidden behind a tree, was Howard Trenton.
After a short hike, the four walkers reached the top of Leeton Hill. Ahead of them, was a sharp bend in the Black Pathway, and just beyond that was an aged, stone, hump-back bridge. Gary, Shark, Alex and Mary followed the bend in the trail. Below them, was Sleet River, which had widened considerably.
“This bridge up ahead is supposedly haunted.” Advised Gary, cheerfully; he loved the subject of ghosts.
“What?” Asked Mary. Gary turned to her and grinned. Alex, on the other hand, groaned inwardly. Oh God, not this bloody story again, he thought to himself.
“It’s haunted. By the ghost of James Friery.” Gary went on. Mary and Shark gave him a blank look.
“Who’s James Friery?” Asked Shark.
“James Friery was a thief and a murderer from Salegate, who broke out of Hoffen jail, back in the late nineteenth century. At the time, he was awaiting execution for the killing of a love rival called Arthur Melsey.” Informed Gary.
“How do you know all of this?” Shark was curious to find out.
“I’m fascinated by local history, Shark. I spend a lot of time reading up on Coldsleet and its surroundings. This whole area has a very interesting past to explore.” He said.
“Fucking bookworm. So very punk.” Scowled Alex.
“Hey, there’s fuck-all wrong with reading, Alex. You should try it some time, you brain-dead moron.” Gary shot back at his friend. Alex grunted, but didn’t argue back. Instead, he stopped walking, and took another swig of water from the bottle that he was carrying, whilst the other three continued towards the bridge.
Shark wanted to know more about the haunted bridge.
“So, what happened with this James Friery guy?” She asked Gary.
“Well, James was on the run, at liberty for two or three days. During that time, he’d also managed to find himself a gun. This bridge, however, is where the authorities finally caught up with James, who, understandably, wasn’t too keen on giving himself up. There was a shoot-out, right here, at this very spot. James took out one of his pursuers before getting a bullet through the head. He managed to stagger over to the edge of the bridge, and fell down to the river below, landing on the rocks next to it.” Said Gary. He grinned again. “Rumour has it that the whole, ghostly scene - the shoot-out - has been re-enacted, many times, here on this bridge, late at night. There’s also been reports of walkers claiming to have seen the ghost of James Friery, walking around this general area. A couple of people have even tried to talk to him, by all accounts, but James doesn’t respond to them. He just stares, and then carries on to wherever the fuck it is he’s going to.”
“How would they know it was James, and not just some other walker?” Shark wanted to know.
“James Friery is a bit of a local legend, Shark. Ask most people from these parts if they could describe his appearance, and they’d probably be able to… he’s like the Ned Kelly of Coldsleet.” Laughed Gary. “What a fucking honour, eh?”
Gary, Shark and Mary crossed the stone bridge, with Alex close behind them. Gary turned around to check that his friend was okay.
“You alright back there, Alex?” He asked.
“Fine. I’m fine.” Replied Alex. Or I would be, if this fucking hangover would shift. Oh bollocks… I need a sodding piss now, too. “Guys, carry on ahead, I’ll catch you up… I’ve got to take a leak.” Alex shouted.
“Well, there’s plenty of places to go.” Smiled Gary, referring to the thick undergrowth and trees that lined the Black Pathway. “Are you sure that you don’t want us to hang around for you? It’s not a problem.” He continued. Alex waved his hand.
“Just carry on, man. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.” Replied Alex. Gary nodded. Alex’s three companions carried on with their walk, whilst he walked off the pathway, towards a large clump of bushes. Alex pushed his way inside, so that he was shielded from the rest of the group. When he’d finished taking a piss, Alex emerged from the bushes, and walked back onto the Black Pathway. He glanced back, towards the bend in the trail that they had already walked along; coming over the brow of Leeton Hill was another rambler. Alex didn’t think any more about this, and walked forwards, eager to catch up with his friends. From a distance, Howard Trenton watched his enemy move towards the other members of the group that he was with… which, of course, included Mary. Slutty little Mary, thought Howard, before vanishing off the Black Pathway, and into the adjoining undergrowth.
***
Extract from journal of Howard Trenton
If you're reading this, then you must be a fucking copper. And guess what? I don't like you. Any of you. And do you know why? Well, firstly, let me put your mind's at rest… it's nothing personal. Well, unless your name is Detective Tom Grogan. Be a good piggy, and pass on a message from me to Tom, would you?
ARSEHOLE
Now, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. Why don't I like coppers… well, as I said, it's nothing personal, just a matter of logistics, really; I'm on one side of the fence, and you bunch of tit-heads are on the other. You represent a threat to me, which is an interesting role-reversal, because usually, I'm the hunter. After you've read this journal, then I'll be the hunted, and you will have taken on my former role. Yet the irony is, I'll still be out there, hunting down Mary and Alex. So I'll be half and half; hunter and hunted. Cat and Mouse. Cat and Dog. It's all good fun though, don't you agree? It certainly passes the time of day away.