see anymore, not wanting to know anymore, I fumbled at the back door, trying to turn the key, finally yanking it open and stumbling out into the light before the headache took over. The early morning air was fresh and new and I ran into it, my muscles burning with the sudden activity, sobs tearing from my chest, and I ran and I ran and I didn’t look back. The houses on either side of the street loomed aggressively above me, and I turned down towards the river, running alongside it until I reached the old aqueduct that separated Stony
51
from Old Stratford. My trousers, wet with piss, rubbed at my skin, but my mind was ablaze with the threat of madness.
Leaning against the worn stone surface, built so many long centuries ago, I stared up at the branches and sunlight above until the sweat cooled on my face and finally my stomach cramped. Twisting sideways, I tipped my head forward and threw up my madness.
52
Chapter Five
By the time I straightened up, my mouth and throat were aching and sore from the constant heaving, having retched loudly and angrily long after there was anything left inside me; but the hot white fear of insanity seemed to have passed. Shivering, I looked at my watch. It was nine o’clock. I’d been out here lost in shock and battling the onset of madness for over two hours. Jesus.
Looking around at the lush fields and the river with its neat towpath, nostalgia washed over me. I’d come walking down here all my life, but despite its familiarity I couldn’t deny the newness in the air. What I knew couldn’t be trusted. It was a brave new world I was looking at. There was no real human sound for a start, no cars, no children shouting at their friends, no hint of a passing conversation. I’d only experienced something like that once before in my life, on a holiday to Los Angeles. Tired with the shallowness of Hollywood, I’d hired a car and driven out to Death Valley,
53
slicing through the silent red desert, a vast expanse that went on forever as far as I could see. I’d felt as if I were the last man on earth out there with just dust carried on the echo of wind for company, suddenly realising how fragile my existence was, how easily I could never be found should an accident happen. I drove more carefully after that moment of fear.
Standing there in the shadow of the aqueduct, I felt like that again, only this time for all I knew I was the only person left alive. The only sane one at any rate. Blocking out thoughts of Chloe, I remembered the horror of my frozen state in the lounge. Was that where all the children and people were now? No. I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t. Logic dictated that if I was here and okay, then other people must be wandering around shell-shocked, too.
The cool breeze drifted past, reminding me that I couldn’t stay here, I had to move, to try and find out what the hell was going on. My jeans were acrid with dried piss and I was sure that I’d probably more than splashed myself with bile during my throwing up. At least that gave my journey a place to start. I needed fresh clothes.
Finding my legs steadier than I expected, I pushed away from the wall and followed it until I reached the steep stairs leading back up to the road that ran across the aqueduct. The gate squealed as it opened, the sound sending a shudder through my insides. The violence of the noise was out of place in this new, hushed world. Closing it behind me, I started to stride back to High Street, forcing confidence into my walk. If I allowed a noisy gate to make me nervous, then I was done for. Still, if I said that the dull thud of my shoes
54
on the pavement didn’t ring a little too loudly in my ears for my nerves, then I’d be lying.
I followed the curve of the wall until it bloomed into buildings-the mix of old and new shops and houses that made up the main street of the town-and then slowed down, nervous because of the silence. I couldn’t believe all
51
from Old Stratford. My trousers, wet with piss, rubbed at my skin, but my mind was ablaze with the threat of madness.
Leaning against the worn stone surface, built so many long centuries ago, I stared up at the branches and sunlight above until the sweat cooled on my face and finally my stomach cramped. Twisting sideways, I tipped my head forward and threw up my madness.
52
Chapter Five
By the time I straightened up, my mouth and throat were aching and sore from the constant heaving, having retched loudly and angrily long after there was anything left inside me; but the hot white fear of insanity seemed to have passed. Shivering, I looked at my watch. It was nine o’clock. I’d been out here lost in shock and battling the onset of madness for over two hours. Jesus.
Looking around at the lush fields and the river with its neat towpath, nostalgia washed over me. I’d come walking down here all my life, but despite its familiarity I couldn’t deny the newness in the air. What I knew couldn’t be trusted. It was a brave new world I was looking at. There was no real human sound for a start, no cars, no children shouting at their friends, no hint of a passing conversation. I’d only experienced something like that once before in my life, on a holiday to Los Angeles. Tired with the shallowness of Hollywood, I’d hired a car and driven out to Death Valley,
53
slicing through the silent red desert, a vast expanse that went on forever as far as I could see. I’d felt as if I were the last man on earth out there with just dust carried on the echo of wind for company, suddenly realising how fragile my existence was, how easily I could never be found should an accident happen. I drove more carefully after that moment of fear.
Standing there in the shadow of the aqueduct, I felt like that again, only this time for all I knew I was the only person left alive. The only sane one at any rate. Blocking out thoughts of Chloe, I remembered the horror of my frozen state in the lounge. Was that where all the children and people were now? No. I couldn’t believe that. I wouldn’t. Logic dictated that if I was here and okay, then other people must be wandering around shell-shocked, too.
The cool breeze drifted past, reminding me that I couldn’t stay here, I had to move, to try and find out what the hell was going on. My jeans were acrid with dried piss and I was sure that I’d probably more than splashed myself with bile during my throwing up. At least that gave my journey a place to start. I needed fresh clothes.
Finding my legs steadier than I expected, I pushed away from the wall and followed it until I reached the steep stairs leading back up to the road that ran across the aqueduct. The gate squealed as it opened, the sound sending a shudder through my insides. The violence of the noise was out of place in this new, hushed world. Closing it behind me, I started to stride back to High Street, forcing confidence into my walk. If I allowed a noisy gate to make me nervous, then I was done for. Still, if I said that the dull thud of my shoes
54
on the pavement didn’t ring a little too loudly in my ears for my nerves, then I’d be lying.
I followed the curve of the wall until it bloomed into buildings-the mix of old and new shops and houses that made up the main street of the town-and then slowed down, nervous because of the silence. I couldn’t believe all
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