Dark World by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Tartarus Press
Published: 2013-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

A muddy wellington boot was close to my face, and above it, in grotesquely foreshortened form, I was looking up at the leggings and heavy jacket of a man. He bent down, and I could hear the whirr of an idle engine close by; a quad bike, ordinary and unthreatening. I don’t know what nonsense I blurted out at first, but it must have been enough to tell him I wasn’t much good for comments about the weather or discussion of stock prices.

‘Why man, lie still. You’re in a bad way. What happened?’

I mumbled something about a well, but he heard something else.

‘Yes, the wall’s a real deceiver. You’re not the first person who’s fallen. Stay put. I’ll have to get help. Ned’s borrowed my mobile.’

But I did not want to let him go for reasons I could not properly convey.

‘Let me see if anything’s broken,’ I croaked. ‘I may be okay.’

‘Take it easy then. Try one bit at a time.’

I had come to lying on my back. He helped me onto my side, and then into a kneeling position. My neck was stiff, my head hurt violently when I moved, and I felt sick, but nothing appeared to be broken, and upon trial everything seemed to be in working order after a fashion. When I stood up I nearly fell down again, but he caught me.

‘You can’t go on alone,’ he declared. ‘Can you sit on the bike behind me and hold on until we reach the road. It’s not far. Then I’ll get the van and run you home. Where are you staying?’

I told him Westerhope, the Fogin’s place; which of course he knew, as all good farmers know other farms for miles around, especially when there are sheep involved.

He got me onto the bike and I held on as a squirrel holds on to a tree. Every bump sent a shriek of pain down my neck, but the journey was brief.

‘Sit here,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll be back with the Land Rover in a moment.’

He was about five minutes, during which time I managed to claw together some of the distraught fragments of my experience. I had seen it before. My brother climbing the mounting-block, tripping, and falling on his face. Our mother taking us to the nearest dwelling for help. The rest—the rest I could not have seen. I was with her. But I had heard. And now I wish I did not remember.

The Fogins have been most kind, and Dr Bell has visited every day in the old fashioned way that most doctors now avoid. There are bruises, and a bit of a problem with my neck, but nothing that rest and care will not cure. Except that I set out to hunt memories; now I am hunted by them. I have not sought additional information about Wolvershiel. Part of me does not want to know, but Harry Fogin, knowing where I had the accident, insisted upon talking about the place. Had I found it?

I said yes.

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