Tony waived to the two wino’s in the corner, but they didn’t acknowledge, not seeing him through the blurred vision the wine had given them, he recalled them being young pretty girls that he looked up to in the old Underwood, and wondered how long it would be before all the original residents were gone and the only ones left were those born here or brought by the storms, but most of those from the storms had perished as they refused to accept their new homes, how much longer could this land survive, what was its life span. They were questions he had pondered for years, he didn’t think Underwood could go on forever, it was created in a flash so it could just as easily end in a flash, he pondered this over his pint of homebrew, he had a strange feeling that the end was near, and he would thrive on it.
Tony didn’t think that would happen to the newest recruits, he didn’t think they would perish so easily, they had a look of survival about them and he had the feeling that the future of Underwood was about to change because of them, for better or for worse, and he hadn’t had that feeling for a very long time, he thought his question might be answered soon, he just hoped he would play a part in that answer.
Peter had unblocked the drain, he had to go back to the depot in the sports centre, to get some rods, Steve Duce gave him a lift back with the rods, not saying a word as they drove the short distance, Peter sensed a nervousness about him, he guessed he was like everyone else in Underwood, living in fear, because there didn’t seem to be much hope around, Peter was beginning to have a new respect for those he met, there didn’t seem to be a lot of loyalty in Underwood, but he had to be careful in who he befriended, and the ever smiling bus driver would not be one of them.
Unblocking drains was not his usual work but he cleared it never the less and as he stood checking the flow, a thought occurred to him ‘where do they lead’. He wasn’t aware of any outlet, if they flowed outside of Underwood it could mean, ‘A possible way out’ that intrigued him, he wondered if there was a map of the drainage system anywhere, somehow he doubted it, but he couldn’t do this on his own, ‘maybe I won’t have to’.
He took his tool bag and the rods back to the depot, he didn’t bother to ask Steve Duce over the radio’s they had been given, for a ride, he felt there was only to much good conversation he could have in one day, however he did have what seemed the only vehicle, other than the police cars, so it would be best to keep on the good side, his thoughts were deep as he walked from the depot to his new home, his eyes were spanning the surroundings of trees, trees, and more trees, he thought again about the Underwood sign “one way in, no way out” he refused to believe it, he let his mind wander to places he had no control of.
He soon found himself home, not really remembering walking that distance, it reminded him of his sat nav, when he would be driving and the sat nav would suddenly announce “you have arrived at your destination” and he could never remember how he got there, that’s how he felt then as he stood at the top of his path, but he knew he would never ever forget the day he arrived in Underwood, the only memory that would outweigh that one, was the one yet to come, ‘the day they escaped from Underwood’.
No one was in the house, he noticed the kitchen door was open and he realised that he had not yet been that way to the garden, he panicked for a moment, he expected to see his family sat there waiting full of despair, hitting him with a thousand questions as soon as he walked through the door, their absence threw him a bit, he stood opened mouthed at what he saw, in the most beautiful garden he had ever seen, was his son and another lad, climbing a frame, his daughter and another girl, in their bikinis sunbathing and his wife and another woman sat at a patio table drinking wine, Nathan and Lily waived to him, and carried on doing what they were doing, Eileen and the other woman looked drunk, Eileen waived at him shouting,
‘Your tea’s in the dog’ and both woman burst out laughing,
‘What the fucks going on’ Peter asked himself ‘why are they acting as if they are on fucking holiday’
He had not acknowledged them, he still could not quite believe what he was seeing as he stood there open mouthed’
‘Come and join us for a wine’ Eileen shouted, beckoning him over with her hand, he thought about it for a moment, the surreal event happening before his eyes was something he could not comprehend, ‘what is this fucking place’ he asked himself.
‘I’d prefer a beer’ he said, and went and got one out of the fridge.
Chapter 8
Rolling around in the mud was one of its favourite pastimes, and today had been no exception, there was still plenty of mud due to the recent storms, and he was relishing in his favourite activities, the mud was drying on him now as he had finished playing, the warm sun caking it to his coat, he would need to wash it off, the stream they called monks ditch running through the woods was the best bet, not that cesspit in Bluebell wood, that was where they pumped all the human waste, he didn’t mind eating humans, but he wasn’t going to bathe in their shit.
He was in his natural habitat now, and he was loving it, this was where he could use all his predatory skills, and as he walked as silent as the still air, a mouse dared run out in front of him, but the mouse was no match for this cowering bruiser as in one swift move he had “clawed” him into his mouth, with claws bigger than any living animal, biting him in half, feeling the insides of the rodent pour over his tongue as he swallowed, his large tongue licked its lips, there was nothing to fear him in this part of the world, not man or beast.
Not Lion or wolf, but the strength of one and the look of the other, the beast of Underwood walked the trees, his silky grey hair glistening where the sun dare shine through the trees, the sheer weight leaving inch deep footprints in the ground he stood upon, the trees seemed to want to take a step back as he walked amid them, the birds had long disappeared over the years as they made their escape through the movement of Underwood, those that had still remained alive that is, if those that had seen him and lived to tell, they would say the first thing they saw was the yellow and black eyes, wide and evil like a hornets nest, busy and watchful, then they would see the wolf like face with a long stout and ears that stood proud, then they would say they saw its teeth, it’s long yellow stained razor sharp teeth, but no one could live to say that, as those that had been unfortunate enough to see this magnificent schemer of the jungle, no longer lived to tell the tale.
He paused his snout in the air, an animal that didn’t trust his instincts certainly perished, there was nothing in this particular jungle of his he feared, but his nose smelt fox, and they were few and far between now, and next to human, fox was his favourite meal.
Then he saw it and cowered his head at the snarling fox that lay ahead, his neck and part of his stomach eaten away, probably by other foxes, the beast thought, as the fox looked on in fear, realising that he was the beasts next meal, he scowled at the monster before him, he could do nothing else, his own wounds confining him to certain death.