I was being chased for some completely illogical reason in some place that was totally strange to me. I rushed into a tall building. People were looking strangely at me. I dashed for the lift and flung myself in it as soon as the door opened. I hit a button – any damn button and the lift started to move just as my attackers were running into the lobby, guns out and, for some reason, they were wearing masks.
I noticed that I had hit the button for the fourteenth floor. The lift started to accelerate, passing floor seven, eight, nine. It showed thirteen on the LED display above the door but I could feel no sense of it slowing down. It accelerated past fourteen and carried on upwards. At twenty-five it suddenly stopped and immediately proceeded to go back down again, picking up speed as it went. I started to panic as it plunged earthwards, past fourteen again. It arrived at zero and restarted its climb upwards. I was scared rigid, sweating with fear as the bloody thing went up and down several times. Nothing I could do would stop it. I hit every button I could see but it continued inexorably doing its imitation of a yoyo, getting faster and faster while I felt more and more claustrophobic.
Through the glass doors of each floor I could see faces in a kind of a blur. Faces pressed to the glass jeering. As the lift passed every floor there they were – hands, noses, chins pressed to the glass, laughing at me.
Then I woke up. I was shaking and sweating and my heart was definitely pounding, yet I had been asleep. I realised this as soon as I was aware of my real surroundings, lying on my own bed in my own house.
That had been a few weeks ago. However, on this particular occasion, the awakening was different. It was gradual. Consciousness came to me slowly. First my brain started to operate. I lay totally still because it was telling me that something was unusual. I was not lying in my own bed in my own house. I was somewhere else but I had no idea where.
It was cold. That was the first sensation. My mind then did a quick inventory. It flicked round my body. Everything seemed to be in the right place. Feet, legs, arms, hands, head. No pain. No obvious disorders.
I was outside. That was for sure. I was lying uncomfortably and definitely not on a bed.
The whole process of coming to my senses must have only taken a split second but there is no sense of time when you crawl out into the real world.
The five senses kicked in immediately. Touch. I was lying on my front, face resting on something uncomfortable, my right arm and hand stretched out above my head. My hand was resting on a hard, uneven surface. It felt like rock. I moved my fingers gently and this confirmed the impression.
Sight. I wasn’t about to open my eyes. I don’t think I wanted to see where I was.
Sound. All I could hear was the wind. I must be outside my brain told me. Then there was the sound of a seagull, cawing raucously. Was I by the sea? Perhaps, but not for sure. Seagulls do fly a long way inland in Scotland.
Taste. Nothing. My mouth was dry. Smell. Again the smell was of the outdoors – a musty earthy smell, mixed with a slight trace of chloroform in my nostrils.
I flicked my eyes open, not daring, as yet, to move any other muscles in my body. I looked and listened. I could only see about a foot in front of my face. There was dirt and rock just in front of my eyes and some kind of foliage was obstructing my view.
Slowly I raised my head. My field of vision was limited but it was enough to observe a rolling expanse of heather and rocks with the sight of blue grey mountains in the distance.
I checked that my feet and legs were functioning. I could feel that they were there and was relieved to find that I could move them. The same with my arms and hands.
Being now more or less fully conscious, I levered myself up into a kneeling position on all fours and moved my head slowly around the horizon.
I was out in the wilds, apparently in the middle of nowhere. Was I, in fact, dreaming?
I manoeuvered myself into a sitting position for a second and, as no one or nothing seemed to be around to prevent me, I slowly clambered to my feet, completely at a loss. So far there was no sense of fear – rather one of total bewilderment.
I felt no particular pain anywhere but I seemed to ache all over. Once on my feet the effect of the wind was greatly increased and I shivered violently. I realised how cold I was. Where the hell was I? I looked around for shelter. There was none. Only shallow dips in the ground or the customary boulders that you find out on the mountains in the wilder parts of the country.
I decided to risk the cold for a minute or two on the grounds that it was more important to try and establish where I was. I stepped over to the nearest rock and sat down and did a three hundred and sixty degree survey.
I learned nothing. All I could tell was that I was somewhere high up in the mountains and there were no obvious signs of civilization. Not a house or a road of any description.
Still no fear. More curiosity. How the hell did I get here? Because here was definitely where I was.
My memory brought back the last picture I had in my mind which was of being in my garden that afternoon where I had been pruning my roses. Or was it that afternoon? I had no sense of time. Then it came back. I had been kneeling down at the edge of the flower bed, secateurs in hand, when I had suddenly been grabbed from behind. Someone had grabbed me by both ankles and a hand had seized me by the back of my neck and forced my face down into the soil.
I touched my face. It was still covered in dirt. It had happened so quickly that there had been nothing I could do. It must have been two people. I had been completely immobilised and then a cloth covered in some chemical had been thrust over my nose and mouth. That was all I could recall.
Who and why? I would have to work that out later. My immediately problem was to get out of these mountains and get home. I considered my position. It was not very encouraging. Even in summer, Scotland’s mountains can be very dangerous places. Practically every year there were one or two people who lost their lives up here. The weather can change in an instant and it is very easy to lose all sense of orientation. The rain can come on suddenly. The wind can get up and also the mist can appear from nowhere. Hypothermia is the big danger. I knew this and reviewed the state of my belongings. I was still dressed as I had been when I had gone out into the garden. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might need a survival kit just to prune the roses. This meant thin cotton trousers, ordinary shoes and a denim shirt. Not much protection if the weather turned nasty.
I checked my pockets. Not much there either, apart from a handkerchief, some loose change and piece of string that I had taken for tying up any plants that needed it. The only positive thing was that I still had my cap which would at least keep my head warm.
Ever the optimist, I got up and tried to work out which way I should go, because the only way I was going to get out of here was by walking.
Don’t blunder off in any old direction I told myself. Think it out first. First work out where north was. That was easy because the sun was right in front of me low on the horizon. I looked at my watch. Eight o’clock. The sun sets in the west. Let’s watch it for a while to check that it is indeed going down. Then I can determine the points of the compass.
Observing that the sun was indeed setting enabled me to establish direction but it also meant that I was probably facing a night up here. What the temperature drop would be I had no idea but with the wind and the damp it wasn’t going to be funny.
In all directions I was surrounded by mountains. Great, craggy, grey forbidding chunks of rock. They look lovely on the postcards but, right then, it felt to me that I was surrounded by enormous evil monsters, implacable, immovable, laughing at me.
What could I see in the landscape that might help me? For a start there were no trees visible. A stick therefore was unlikely to be available.