Alliance

by Andrew Stride

  David had never considered himself the most observant of people, and yet his attention was drawn to a grey saloon parked up near the water and air, on the petrol station forecourt. He shrugged and climbed into his car, glancing again at the saloon, before pulling away from the pumps. He wasn’t going far, breakfast was on his mind and once parked, he made his way to the diner.

  There was a light drizzle of rain and it felt good to be in the warm. A full English and a coffee, what better way to start the day. This was a rare treat, seldom did he have the time for such indulgences and perhaps his health was all the better for it. He checked his watch and would phone in sick in about an hour and by that time he should be boarding the ferry.

  The car he had seen earlier at the petrol station was now behind him as he pulled out into heavy traffic. He travelled about twenty miles before the traffic eased and he had almost forgotten about the grey saloon, but a glance in his rear view mirror revealed that it was still behind him. David had the impression the driver of this vehicle wanted him to see it, as it was following his every move.

  David was reminded of the words in the letter, they are everywhere and they are watching you. He had something they wanted and that something was him. So if he was cornered, it wasn’t like he could give up and hand over what they wanted, oh no, to do that he would be handing over himself.

  Now that he was sure the car behind was following him, he would be paying more attention to it and at the next junction he turned off and there it was, right behind him. He’d been expecting it, only now he was freaking himself out and began to wonder if they might stop him boarding the ferry. He was only minutes away from the ferry dock and the car behind turned off and he felt himself relax. It was only paranoia after all and he gave himself a good telling off.

  He made his call and tried to sound sick and was optimistic about being back at work on Monday, no problem. The ferry horn sounded just before he hung up and he had to hope that it hadn’t been heard on the other end of the line. He’d never been a good liar and he didn’t feel all that comfortable about it now.

  David was soon following a short line of traffic onto the ferry and after parking up; he went upstairs and relaxed for what would be a short crossing. At least the sea was calm, not that choppy waters bothered him too much and he had all he needed, a coffee and a comfortable chair.

  As he sat there he began thinking about all the other strange experiences he had had recently and wondered where this stranger fitted in. Maybe she was here to brief him, but then why drag him across to the island just for that, unless there was something there that was vital to his mission. The experience had to be better than the last meeting with these people. That Qwamma guy had him travelling back in time, dressing up and all sorts and he wasn’t looking for a repeat of that experience.

  An announcement came over the speaker for people to return to their vehicles and David downed his coffee and returned to his car. There was a short wait and then he filed off the ferry with everyone else. There were quite a few people around, but then again it was Friday and some of these travellers were probably extending their weekend.

  Once off the ferry, David drove past a line of traffic waiting to board, for their journey to the mainland. There were also a few cars parked up randomly as if waiting for foot passengers and David could barely believe his eyes when he spotted an identical car to the one that had been following him. It was impossible to think it might be the same car unless these people could do this sort of thing. David had one eye on his rear view mirror and watched the car pull out and there it was, back behind him.

  If this really was the same car, then they hadn’t actually shown any hostility towards him, so maybe they were content to follow him for now. Well, he wasn’t going to make it easy for them and with that, he accelerated and overtook the car in front. It wasn’t the safest spot to overtake, right before a bend, but David was passed and kept his foot down.

  He still wasn’t convinced he’d lost the car, so after a few miles he turned off the main road, opting for a far less direct route to his destination.

  He passed through a village and was just thinking that he was making good time when there was a muffled boom and the handling of the car diminished rapidly. A blowout, fortunately a rear, otherwise it could have been serious and David thumped the steering wheel and pulled over to investigate. He’d changed a few tyres in his time, so this should only be a minor setback and he set about removing the spare from the boot. Here another surprise awaited him, the spare was flat and he was left wondering how this could be possible. Clearly, it was possible and there was nothing else for it, he would have to call a breakdown service.

  David wasn’t prepared for yet another problem and he almost threw his phone across the road. No signal! The village he’d passed through a couple of miles back seemed the best option, so reluctantly he picked up his bag and started walking.

  David felt sure that once he got to the village things would improve and kept checking his phone hoping for a signal, but hoping wasn’t helping and he was sure there was more going on here than just plain bad luck. He hadn’t seen a single car, which he also thought was a little odd and resigned to walking the entire journey back to the village when he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. It was coming down the road towards him and from the sound of the engine, it was slowing down and he watched the car pull over on the opposite side of the road and stop.

  David stood there staring at it in disbelief, it was a grey saloon and the doors opened and two men stepped out and stood there looking at him. David froze because even though he could see it with his own eyes, he still didn’t believe it was happening. Well, it was happening and a voice in his head told him to get out of there.

  He turned and started running, only his shoes were far from suitable for this kind of activity. If the men had given chase, he wouldn’t have stood a chance and his overnight bag wasn’t helping. If they weren’t going to follow him on foot, did that mean they were going to run him down with their car and he looked back to see them still standing there watching him.

  There was a distinct possibility that they might still come after him, so he had it in his mind to leave the road. The problem with this idea was the thick, seemingly, impenetrable wood, so for the moment, he was sticking to the road. The idea of finding a path seemed unlikely, since he had already walked this stretch of road, but then he noticed a wooden post and when he got closer he could see there was an image carved into it. The image of a snowflake. The wooden post indicated the start of a footpath and an infrequently used one at that.

  With the sound of screeching tyres behind him, this wasn’t the time to be picky and he pushed through the gap in the hedge and was instantly swallowed by the thick foliage.

  This was hardly a path. He could barely see where he was going and had been slapped in the face more times than he cared for, but he wasn’t about to slow down. It didn’t help that the foliage was damp with morning dew, so by the time he reached a more defined path, it looked as if someone had hosed him down.

  Up ahead was an old wooden footbridge, which spanned a small stream and his hands reached out for the wooden railing and this helped steady him. He wanted to stop, but fearful that he was being pursued on foot, he continued. His feet making a deep thump, thump, thump sound on the old bridge. Then he was back fighting his way through the undergrowth on the other side.

  He had been running now for longer than he’d run in a long time, perhaps his entire life. His chest hurt and he was getting that niggling tightness in his side. The beginnings of a stitch. The last time he experienced one of these was when he had been forced to take part in a cross country race back at school.

  Through the thinning undergrowth, he noticed that he was approaching a wooden fence and beyond this, just open fields. The fence had a stile and David ran up to it as if he was intending to vault it, but there was no chance of that.

  Feeling more than a little worse for wear, he leaned back against
the fence to catch his breath. He wasn’t the man he used to be and while resting there he saw another sign carved into the handrail of the stile. Carved just for him or was it pure coincidence? He had to rule out coincidence now, this was too real.

  Looking back up the path, he wondered if he had done enough, since his pursuers had a nasty habit of appearing from out of nowhere. With that thought in mind, he eased himself off the wooden fence and felt ready to tackle the stile.

  Stopping may not have been a good idea, because now his legs were shaking and the rickety old stile looked like a death trap. In his frustration he launched his bag over the fence, into the field beyond and then clambered over after it, slipping in the process, but saving himself from a fall.

  Across the open field, over in the farthest corner, he could just make out another stile and he made his way towards it. Half walking, half running, he wanted to be across the field quickly and he kept checking behind to see if he was being followed.

  David had almost made it to the next stile and with no sign of his pursuers; he eased up and was walking to conserve energy. Who was he kidding, he was knackered.

  This stile was in slightly better shape and he checked for clues and wasn’t disappointed. There was another small carving of a snowflake on this one too.

  David wasn’t all that great with direction, but he reckoned he was heading south. If he was lucky he would find another road and maybe some public transport to take him the rest of the way. Of course, there was every chance the grey saloon would be waiting for him when he emerged from this cross country detour. He could not let this worry him; he would deal with it, just as he’d dealt with all the other obstacles placed in his path.

  His positive attitude made him smile and hoping for a change of fortune, he checked his phone for a signal, but it was still dead.

  David had only just returned his phone to his pocket when he heard it ringing and this startled him. His phone was back in his hand and it was telling him that the number was being withheld.

  He gave up guessing who it might be and answered the call and a voice came through loud and clear. “Is that David?”

  David hesitated. “Yes.”

  “If you stop now we will let you go back to your old life.”

  “And if I don’t?” said David trying to catch his breath.

  “I think you know the answer to that question.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It doesn’t matter who we are. But we can’t let you continue on this path.”

  “I’ve been asked to help and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “That’s very heroic of you, David, but you will never reach your goal.”

  “You haven’t done a very good job of stopping me so far.”

  “We’ve barely started,” and with that, the phone went dead.

  David was frightened but also angry at being threatened and he felt an energy rising in his body and his fear was replaced by confidence. He reminded himself that he had been chosen for a reason and sticking to this path would come with its own rewards.

  He could see that there were two forces jostling for his allegiance and this hit home and convinced him of how much of an impact he would make in this battle. All he had to do was survive it.

  The path ahead forked and he started looking for a sign. He couldn’t find one and it occurred to him that some decisions were still going to be his to make. David chose the left path and it eventually turned into a dirt track and about twenty minutes later, he was approaching a road.

  David had visited this island a few times before and there was clearly a lot more to it than he realised because he was back on the pavement of a surfaced road, but nothing looked familiar.

  Thankfully the grey saloon wasn’t waiting for him, but that probably meant very little, since these people had somehow got to the island without using the ferry.

  A mile or so down the road and David came across a bus stop and he didn’t wait long before one turned up. He was relieved to see a few people already on-board. They all looked normal and didn’t give him a second glance as he paid his fare and sat down. Things were looking good and a tatty sticker with the image of a snowflake, stuck to the handrail, confirmed he was on the right bus.

  It seemed no sooner had bus pulled away from the bus stop when it began slowing down and up ahead were the flashing blue lights of the emergency services. A tree had fallen across the road and nothing was getting through in either direction. Perfect, thought David and while sitting there he could hear the bus driver on his phone, seeking some advice. There were a few cars in front of them and a police officer was speaking to the owners of the other vehicles and making his way towards the bus.

  The bus door folded open and the officer stepped aboard and began talking with the driver and had turned to look in David’s direction a couple of times. David was making sure he didn’t make eye contact and tried his best to act casual.

  The officer finished speaking with the driver and appeared to be going to exit the bus, but hesitated for some reason and started walking slowly down the aisle. David felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack when the officer stopped beside his seat and asked him to step off the bus.

  David must have turned as white as a sheet at this point. “Have I done something wrong, officer?”

  “I need to ask you some questions,” the officer gestured for David to get up.

  David was trying not to shake, but his whole body felt like jelly and he must have looked as guilty as hell. Even though David was close to a meltdown, he couldn’t help but notice that the other passengers on the bus weren’t looking at him as he would have expected. They looked absent; as if asleep with their eyes open.

  David stepped onto the pavement and the door of the bus hissed closed. He was alone with the officer, who remained silent and together they walked towards the emergency vehicles. Was he about to be arrested or perhaps taken somewhere and shot? Having already experienced the impossible, he couldn’t rule anything out and the idea of making a run for it crept into his mind

  It was at that moment a ray of sunlight filtered through the trees and hit him squarely in the eyes and startled him. He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision and quite remarkably, the ray of sunlight turned into a shaft of golden snowflakes. David watched in amazement as the snowflakes drifted across the road, leading his eyes to a bike leaning up against a tree. To be absolutely sure he wasn’t going to miss it, a ray of light bounced off the bike’s chrome handlebars.

  The officer beside him looked visibly confused as if he didn’t know what he was doing here, which suggested there must have been a break in communication between the officer and what it was that was controlling him. Realising this, David seized his chance and ran to the bike and leapt on it. He dropped his bag in the process, but there was nothing in there he couldn’t easily replace and he started pedalling as if his life depended on it, which it did.

  He was about as good at cycling as he was at running, so not much good and those occasional days he had wasted in the gym were not really helping him now.

  After a wobbly start, he left the pavement and found himself off road again, cutting an awkward path through some lush green ferns. The wheel spokes pinged a random tune as he picked up speed, heading down a wooded slope. He applied the brakes a little too keenly and felt the bike slide beneath him, but remarkably, he stayed in the saddle.

  Worried he was going to do himself some permanent damage, he stood up on the pedals. Something he’d seen mountain bikers do as they carved up the countryside and after bouncing over some exposed tree roots, he was thankful that he’d remembered. He was getting it, even though his lack of balance was likely to get him wound around a tree.

  Noticing just how fast he was travelling, David lost his nerve and skidded to a stop. It was only now that he realised how tight he’d been holding on because his hands had practically glued themselves to the handlebar grips.

  He eased himself off the saddl
e and stood there listening. He was alone and looking back up the slope, he was surprised to see how steep it was.

  There was still no sign of a path, but the ground ahead looked reasonably level and the idea that he was lost, was soon addressed. The rays of sun hitting the trees, guided him forward and as crazy as that sounded, it was working.

  That was as close as he had ever come to being arrested and he was left wondering what story they would have spun to keep him locked up or would he have simply vanished, never to be seen or heard of again. It was too scary to think about and it showed how desperate they were to stop him. This was not a game, he reminded himself and just because he’d been lucky so far, it didn’t mean his luck wouldn’t run out eventually. Then started the debate, how lucky had he actually been today? He had experienced a flat tyre, dead phone, fallen tree; however, he could not deny that a guiding hand had intervened at every one of these setbacks.

  Despite his lack of skill on a bike, he felt like he was making good progress. Even so, he wasn’t entirely sure where he was but knew he couldn’t be far from a main road, as he’d heard a siren a couple of times. He hoped it was unrelated; otherwise, the whole of the island’s police force could be out looking for him.

  David hadn’t encountered anyone during his cycle ride until now and up ahead were a couple of riders on horseback and they both seemed friendly enough as he passed them. The encounter reassured him that at least some people had not been brainwashed by these things, but that still left a nagging thought. Who could he trust?

  His journey through the forest was coming to an end and after turning onto a muddy track, he could see the beginnings of a village, nestled in the valley ahead of him. So much of this island was countryside, which was one of the reasons he liked coming here and the roads were seldom busy, except in the height of summer.

  Now that he was back on the road, David was keeping his wits about him, scrutinising every car and having been on the bike for a while, he was confident that he could take evasive action if necessary.