Chapter One

Chas nodded at the gate guards as he drove off camp. Heading home for two weeks leave after a busy couple of months he was looking forward to having not much to do and plenty of time to do it in. He fiddled with the CD player and sorted his mobile and sat-nav whilst the bright checkpoint lights allowed him to get everything plugged in. He could do the 4 hour drive north on autopilot but liked the constant trip data provided by the device.

He'd set off later than normal to avoid the traffic and, with a large insulated mug of coffee in the cupholder, settled in for a long night behind the wheel. It was mid-November and pitch black on the country roads heading for the motorway. The recent wet spell had moved on and temperatures had plummeted. After giving it some thought he'd decided that the chance of ice on the roads was slim, at least until he'd completed most of the drive and was almost home. Still, he was in no hurry, no need to rush.

After a while he was onto the motorway. There was less traffic than normal but it was just before 2100 on a Wednesday night, hardly rush hour. He relaxed his driving position slightly, set the cruise control and unscrewed the lid of his mug. Intended to fuel his drive the coffee was like rocket fuel, five or six espressos and nearly as many sugars. The first mouthful caused him to screw his face up “bloody hell, that's good”.

Shortly after setting the cruise control for a steady 75mph a battered silver Saab blew past him like he was stood still. Despite the road being almost empty the Saab passed within inches of his car, rocking it and almost scraping wing mirrors. It must have been doing at least 110mph, maybe more. Seconds later he saw the flashing blue lights of the emergency services in his rear view mirror. However as the lights got closer he could see it wasn't the police giving chase but two ambulances being driven hard. He wondered briefly if the Saab was going to meet them at whichever hospital they were heading to. Deciding he'd never know he watched the blue lights head up the road until they disappeared from view.

He switched from the CD player to the radio as he found it helped his concentration when driving. The music often zoned him out to the extent that he could drive for half an hour and remember none of it, not ideal with speed cameras everywhere. The stations were all coming to the news, the terrorist attack on the outskirts of London two days ago was still headlining. As yet nobody really had any idea who was responsible, or if they did they weren't telling the media.

To him the attack had seemed more than a little bit underwhelming. A car bomb had exploded near a tube station in the early afternoon killing one person and wounding about six more. Most of those caught up in the attack had been able to walk away. After some of the more spectacular attacks of recent years this just felt a bit grubby. A suburban tube station, mid afternoon, killing normal people doing normal things and now nobody cared enough to claim it. Pointless. This was followed up with the ongoing stories which had been dragging on for days - global economic woes, a new swine flu variant, weather warnings and an argument about the free pneumonia vaccine for the elderly.

The remainder of the journey passed quickly enough, the quiet roads allowing him to make good time. The coffee was finished off just before he left the motorway. Winding his way through the country roads and up into the deserted fells he was starting to feel the effects of the last couple of weeks. The long days had taken their toll and he knew he'd be asleep as soon as he got into bed.

Passing the small farm at the bottom of his hill he didn't notice that the farmhouse front door was wide open, despite it being just after 0100. He pulled into the yard of his cottage, the only building other than the farm within two miles. He'd moved in a couple of months ago, attracted by the cheap rent and easy access to the excellent biking and hiking on his doorstep. Living on his own out in the wild had spooked him a bit to start with. Mates from work hadn't helped, suggesting the farmer was waiting for him to let his guard down before getting all “Deliverance”. Switching the engine off he unplugged his mobile, grabbed his holdall from the backseat and got out of the car “Feck it's cold”.

After unlocking the door, flicking the light-switch didn't have the expected result - the hallway stayed dark. Bulb or power-cut? With just the light from the full moon coming through the open doorway he dropped his holdall inside the door and moved slowly down the hall reaching for the light-switch at the bottom of the stairs. Again nothing – power-cut. Probably the third he'd experienced since moving in, normally they only lasted a couple of hours.

It was 0120, there was no power and he was tired, really he should have gone to bed. However he wanted to put his feet up for half an hour before calling it a night. Lighting a couple of small candles purchased after the second power-cut, the soft orange light lit the living room as he sat on his sofa watching the flames. On the side were several bottles containing various spirits, mostly whiskys. Selecting the one reflecting the most light, a 10yr old Glenmorangie, he poured himself a not insignificant measure and sat back. He wasn't a big drinker but having once mentioned that he liked how whisky bottles looked on bar shelves it had somehow become the default present people associated with him. Now it was a vicious circle, people knew he had quite a few bottles, assumed him to be an amateur collector and bought him more.

There was a thud outside, two months ago he'd have gone to check it out but now he hardly gave it a second thought. Sipping the spicy, vanilla flavoured liquid he kicked off his boots and checked his phone – no signal. “Right, bollocks to this then” he drained the rest of the drink and then went to rinse the glass before getting ready for bed.

As he got into bed he felt sure it would be a while before he'd drift off, the cold air outside had woken him and the lack of heating making the house too cold for comfort. He proved himself wrong in less than five minutes.

Well that's the first chapter.  Feel free to leave comments or ask questions below.  I'm hoping to do a chapter a week. For those who want their fiction hot off the press then I can be followed on this twitter feed.