by Benson, Tom
They paused to look at the remnants of what would have been a massive railway bridge but was now thousands of tons of metal leaning into the expanded loch’s waters.
“We’ll stop at the far side of the stone bridge for a short break,” Bill said. “I’m afraid we have to accept that there will be a lot of destruction and depressing scenes as we progress.”
Twenty minutes later they arrived at the damaged but passable road bridge which Sandy and Flint had crossed. Bill recalled Sandy mentioning deposits left on the bridge by a wolf but once again, it was one of those details he didn’t think worth passing on. It would be time enough to mention a wolf if they heard one.
As they crossed the bridge, it made unsettling noises but was strong enough for a handful of human bodies to walk across. When they arrived on the other side, they climbed up onto a grassy bank which overlooked the road and the bridge.
“Bill,” Cherry said, “should there be buildings over where the water is rippling?”
Bill glanced at the map. “That’s were Dalmally used to be, and if you look across to the other side, you’ll see the corners of some rooftops—which is where Stronmilchen is, or was.”
“You were right,” Jay-Dee said, “it doesn’t get any better around here.”
“After our break, we’ll get going again and hopefully find something substantial when we reach Clifton.”
Half an hour later as they were walking along the middle of the road, the waters of the loch lapped the grass verge on either side. It was a disconcerting sight. Bill assured them that it looked okay ahead. It was another half hour before the road had more of a gradient, and the water was only to the left.
Bill paused at a slight rise and pointed. “Those trees straight ahead are only a few miles away, but the good news is that we’ll be making tonight’s stop before we reach that woodland.”
The steady march continued, and with only a slight change of general direction, the road twisted left and right. In a vehicle many years earlier, it would have been noticeable, but when walking, it gave a different perspective. When the road curved right and straightened, the forest that Bill had pointed out looked much closer and then the team reached one of many small rises in the road.
“Bill, look there,” Cherry said and pointed. “Slightly to the left—a roof or top part of a building.”
“Well-spotted,” Bill said. “We’re about to find out how much is left of Clifton and the service station that was there.”
They were a mile away and slightly higher than the first target area when Bill stopped. He didn’t speak because he wanted the others to appreciate what they were looking at to their front. The remains of the service station and sizeable retail unit which had been attached were blackened and overgrown. A large crater was filled with greenery as nature reclaimed what it could.
Victoria said, “Didn’t you say there was a refuelling station or something here, Bill?”
“Yeah, I used it loads of times when I came up this way.”
“What could have caused that much damage?” Jay-Dee said. “There are two small brick buildings off to the left, unscathed apart from being overgrown.”
Bill said, “Refuelling stations in a remote area like this would have had electrical plug-in bays and at least one type of liquid fuel. The underground tank would have been massive—perhaps fifty-thousand litres. If there were an earthquake and a pipe got ruptured, the explosions would have taken out the whole place.”
Cherry said, “What wasn’t destroyed in the fuel explosions would have been destroyed in the ensuing explosions of the solar and electrical charging stations.”
“Correct,” Bill said. “I’m wondering what those two buildings a little farther up might be because if it still exists, our first sub-station is here.”
“Let’s find out,” Victoria said. “One of them might be a place to settle for the night.”
The team arrived at a road junction. To the right and slightly downhill was the ruined remains of what had once been a vibrant and popular refuelling station, retail unit and restaurant. The road to the left twisted slightly but was heading north, in the direction of travel for the expedition. A narrow, overgrown path led up a small hill to the two buildings they’d seen.
“Well,” Cherry said, “judging by the signage and the lock on the doors; this is our first opportunity to attempt switching on the power.”
“Stand behind me,” Bill said and when the others were clear, he aimed his laser rifle and melted the area around the lock. “On you go, Cherry.”
Cherry pulled open the two doors and stepped back. “Perhaps this won’t be our first opportunity to switch on the power.”
All four weary travellers stared at the mass of molten wires and chunks of metal within. There were no fuse-links, switches, controls, lights or circuits. The electrical sub-station resembled the contents of a car park, but one in which the vehicles had been welded together. It was a massive melted chunk of metal and bare wiring.
Bill drew a cross over the symbol on the map. “Let’s see what that other place is.”
Jay-Dee aimed his laser rifle and dealt with the door lock as demonstrated by Bill. He went forward and pulled the door open. “An equipment store of some sort.”
The only windows were high up, but all around so there was sufficient natural light, improved when the door was wide open. One shelf held a line of four safety helmets, all with visors fitted. Heavy gauntlets, overalls and various other pieces of equipment were hung from a range of hooks beneath a long shelf at the back.
All of the equipment neatly stored in three separate areas related to chopping, cutting or trimming of wood. Ropes, harnesses and a variety of tools which had no apparent use were arranged along one wall. In the centre of the building was a heavy wooden workbench with the vice at one end.
Cherry turned one set of overalls around to show the logo of a pine tree on the front.
As the team went around looking at the equipment, it became clear that it was a local storage shed and workshop for the Forestry Commission operatives.
Victoria said, “I can just imagine Norman being let loose in here—we’d be leaving with half of this stuff strapped to our packs.”
Bill pulled off his pack. “I’ll go and set up a campfire near the front door, and we’ll get a hot meal and a brew fixed up.”
“If we tidy up we could sleep in here tonight,” Cherry said. “It wouldn’t take much to arrange the space, and it has a decent wooden floor.”
“Let’s do it,” Jay-Dee said and placed his pack on the bench with the others.
Half an hour later they’d all had a bellyful of food and were sharing two mugs of herb tea between the four of them. The grass embankment not far from the front of the small brick store and workshop was a comfortable place to sit after their first day trekking. However, the view of two swamped villages wasn’t the most inspiring sight.
Victoria said, “You have to believe that most if not all of them got out.”
“You do,” Bill said, “even if you know they arrived in a supposed safe haven only to die there.”
Cherry sipped tea and passed the mug to Victoria. “I still sometimes wake up in the night and feel overwhelming guilt, but then I look at Calvin and the twins and tell myself it was fate.”
“Harry has had me thinking that way for a long time,” Victoria said. “When we first got together after escaping the old tunnel, I constantly used to think back to when Harry was my tutor at university. A few of us joked about finding a guy like him later in life. I couldn’t believe it when he came aboard our coach after that first night.”
“He nearly didn’t make it that far,” Bill said. “When I arrived at his old train at the far end with Paul, Louise and Archie we thought it was deserted until Harry spoke from the darkness behind me.”
The others all looked at Bill as he slowly shook his head.
Jay-Dee said, “Archie told me about that incident. He said it was funny to think back to it, but
since he’s got to know you, he’s surprised Harry wasn’t killed on the spot.”
“He nearly bloody was, mate,” Bill said, “bloody introducing himself in total darkness.”
The others sniggered, imagining the scene in the old tunnel.
Bill listened and encouraged as the other three talked of their feelings on those first hours in the old tunnel. He’d learned a long time before that the best cure for any post-traumatic stress was to allow the victim to talk or discuss things. Sometimes it took people years to open up. In other cases, some felt a need to talk about things regularly over many years.
A wolf howl echoed over the area.
Cherry said, “That is creepy.”
Jay-Dee said, “Shall we set up a sentry shift or anything, Bill?”
“No, mate it won’t be necessary, although I like your train of thought. I think we should pair-up for safety to take care of toiletry needs before it’s pitch black and then we can get inside, secure the door and get some rest. We ought to be warm enough overnight.”
.
Tuesday 2nd August
One of the most essential pieces of equipment the group carried was a polyurethane container which held twelve eggs. It was comforting for the team to know that barring accidents they had three eggs each to supplement whatever else they ate.
Before eating, Jay-Dee and Victoria built a stone marker pointing in the next direction of travel.
Breakfast was a hard-boiled egg, a protein bar and a shared mug of herb tea. Twenty minutes after eating, Bill led the way along the revised narrow width of the A82, once one of the busiest tourist routes in the region.
“Unlike yesterday, today ought to be straightforward,” Bill said as they wandered along in a close group instead of being strung out in a line. “Although it’s twenty miles, I’m hoping that most of our route will be done on this road surface.”
“It might be firm to walk on,” Victoria said, “but there’s less chance of an injury from stumbling or tripping.”
Bill glanced at Jay-Dee. “We can also take turns at keeping an eye on the area around us so it will be less stressful.”
Cherry said, “Do you really think that there’s a chance of the installation being intact when we reach the next location?”
“Yes,” Bill said. “Achallader will only be about the same size as Clifton, but it’s at a slightly higher altitude as you’ll find while we walk.”
“I remember from your briefing that this was another place with a large loch nearby.”
“Yes, Loch Tulla sits to the west side of this road and judging by the contours it will no doubt have swamped sections of the road but might not have reached high enough to damage the few buildings. A mainline railway runs south to north past Achallader, and I’m hoping that some track has survived.”
A few miles later, the team were left with little choice but to leave the comfort of walking on tarmac. Where the southern tip of Loch Tulla arrived at the River Orchy the once picturesque and babbling river had become much broader. It swelled up over the banks and forestry to the west and completely swamped the A82 to the east side—the route being used by the team.
“This would be a good time to leave the road and get back to walking on the rough stuff.”
Bill suggested that the edge of the road would be a good position for the next marker. They all removed their packs and worked rapidly to make a large ‘A’ from loose rocks. Bill had placed the first three rocks. The apex of the ‘A’ pointed in the direction they were heading.
They got underway again, and when they’d reached ten miles by Bill’s reckoning, they paused for a short break.
“When we’ve had our rest,” Bill said, “we’ll put in some effort so that we head both forward and up the gradient. When we get to the top, we should meet the railway on the ridge.”
“You said we might be having more than one stop today?” Jay-Dee said.
“We’ll take a break when we reach the railway because we’ll need it,” Bill said. “It will also be a logical place both in distance and time travelled.”
“Ah,” Victoria said, “the joy of herb tea sitting on a mainline railway track.”
Bill winked at the botanist. “Now you’re getting your head around this, Victoria.”
It took two hours of steady climbing. As these things go, it felt more accessible as the ridge got nearer and then a few poles with broken mechanical signals could be seen not far away.
They sat on the embankment beside the railway sharing the tea. They looked at how the land had been affected by earthquakes and areas of flooding. It highlighted where valleys had been.
“This isn’t a normal railway track,” Jay-Dee said.
Bill laughed. “It was normal up here, mate. The sort of track you might call normal for express trains would have ended at Glasgow and Edinburgh. From there you would change to trains which didn’t require the countryside to be reshaped to fit the new high-speed tracks. The Scottish people always voted against the idea of super trains coming north of the Central Lowlands.”
Cherry pointed ahead and down to the west. “What are those dark areas under the surface there, Bill?”
He handed her his binoculars and then studied the map. “Unless I’m mistaken that’s what is left of Bridge of Orchy. There wasn’t much there to start with, fortunately, so I would imagine it would have been abandoned before it was swallowed by the loch.
Cherry stood and panned left and right with the binoculars, finally pausing to study the area to the north. “Should I be able to see today’s objective from here, Bill?”
“No, it’s about ten miles from here. You can hold onto those if you like and when we’ve covered a couple of miles along this track you can have another look.”
“Thanks. There is one thing that’s fairly clear from here—Loch Tulla has claimed a serious length of that road down there.”
“You’ll see patches of the road above the surface here and there which would have looked like small rises if you were travelling along there in a vehicle years ago.”
“Yes, I can see four definite stretches of tarmac sitting proud of the water.”
During the brief stop, Victoria and Jay-Dee built another ‘A’ directional marker on the railway track, after confirming with Bill that they’d be following the track.
After their break, the team set off with the frustration of walking along a railway line, judging their paces to step on or between the old wooden sleepers. For a while, they marched along in silence, apart from the sound of their breathing.
Victoria said, “This must bring back some memories of our tunnel, Bill.”
“It does,” Bill said, “but believe me, this is luxury compared to doing the same thing in near-total darkness time and again.” He laughed.
Conversation faded, and the four people concentrated on the task of looking ahead and maintaining their strange pace over the railway sleepers. It was an hour before Cherry paused to use the binoculars again.
“I see something up ahead … a building, or maybe two.”
“Is it near the track or down on the gradient?”
“There are two. One looks close to the track so it must be on this ridge, but the other one is slightly behind it and downhill. Neither of them looks very big.”
Half an hour later, the two small buildings could clearly be seen, and there wasn’t much distance between them. Below the buildings and the railway line about a mile down the gradient were the few remaining buildings. What had once been Achallader could now be more aptly named Aqua-llader.
17 - A Signal Box
“It’s an ancient signal box,” Bill said when they were within a few hundred metres of the old building close to the railway line. There had once been windows on three sides. Now it was merely a brick hut with empty window frames sitting atop a metal structure which gave it the appearance of a large lookout tower.
“Bill,” Cherry said, pointing like an excited child. “the other building … it’s our objective
… the second transformer and sub-station.”
“Okay, how about leaving our packs here with these guys and we’ll take a walk down and check out the installation?”
Cherry’s bergen was on the ground within seconds.
Bill decked his pack, pulled out his flashlight and said, “We’ll be back shortly.”
Bill followed Cherry fifty metres down the grassy slope to the cube-shaped installation which was almost completely covered in foliage. The building was five metres square and five metres high. Mother Nature had decided that the brickwork was unsightly and should be decorated with climbing plants, ferns and nettles.
“It will have some natural light inside,” Cherry said. “There are two windows high up on all four sides, and the door should be easy to deal with—it’s wooden.”
“The lock is intact but will be simple to access.”
“I noticed something else,” Cherry said and indicated the roof with an upwards nod of the head. “There are four lightning rods in place.”
“I can’t recall seeing any on that other sub-station back in Clifton.”
“They were still connected, but only one was vertical. The others were damaged and dangling from their fixings which makes me think that it wasn’t an electromagnetic pulse that caused the meltdown.”
“Do you think it could have been lightning?”
“Yes, because we know there were earthquakes and tsunamis so I’m assuming that the nuclear activity might also have prompted huge thunderstorms.”
“Now that you mention it, I’m sure Harry said that would have been a by-product of the activity in the heavens.” He raised the laser rifle. “Are you ready to see inside?”
“Go ahead.” Cherry stepped behind him to watch as he melted the metal section below the door handle. “You’re getting good at that.” She went forward and pushed the door open.