Waiting for the Flyers Pt14 The Drive

It was a pleasant surprise to see how well our folks had prepared the road. It was smooth and hard, strengthened by gravel in places ready for winter rain. Little Jon, led by Roy made short work of the ride to Burnalham. The cart (a hollowed out botcar) kitted out with cushioned seats allowed a comfortable drive for me and David. I thought it might be a good idea to bring him since it was likely we’d meet other “survivors.” I worried it might be hard for him, but Sophie’s care gave him strength and confidence. Also Junior came with us, partly to keep an eye on David, partly because Jess trusted him. Lennie trotted alongside Roy, his job to guide us to Jess’s quarters.

A layer of low mist hung over the open country after we exited the woodland. At the edge, a bunch of small girls stopped picking blackberries. Watching as we passed one called out ‘Good morning Maam.’ I blew them a kiss and they fell into a giggling heap. The autumn sun picked out the gold and russet leaves on the hedges lining the old road across from the open land.

‘This field used to be pasture, belonged to a cattle farmer years ago before the drones shipped in all our dairy and meat products. Looks like the feral sheep and cattle have made good use of it though.’ David seemed to be enjoying the crisp air.

‘I don’t think it’ll be long before we’ll be using it again.’

In less than ten minutes we’d crossed the field and passed through the gap cut in the hedge onto the stony surface of the road leading to Burnalham. Gone were the scraggy overhanging branches and creeping weedy growth that covered the lane when Jack, Alan and the boys first stumbled across it. Now the hedge was trimmed back into neat rows and the grey surface scrubbed clean. It was much wider than I expected. A feeling of pride in my community passed over me, they’d clearly been working very hard.

Soon we joined the wider road we’d taken the day of my accident and followed it as it wound through the village. Many of the gardens were still over grown, but the road and the grass verge was trimmed and neat. Junior waved a greeting at a couple of men loading a cart with stuff I assumed they were taking out of the house behind them.

‘That’s Howard and his son Geo. They are part of our team removing useful items for the Spar store.’

‘What’s the Spar store Junior?’

‘Ah, I thought you knew, Ma. You’ll see it in a few minutes. It was a sort of supply centre, an old sign said it was called a Spar Superstore. It’s really big, we cleared our all the food cans and took them to the community. Now anything we find goes there for listing before it’s taken back. We’re slowly transferring it to the tech-centre for folks to take what they want. Alan, Alex, Janey and Inga look after it. It’s slow going at the moment ‘cos most people are working on harvesting.’

‘It was the village food store before the droids turned it into a supply centre for incoming drones. They never removed the old signs.’

As David spoke the edifice came into view when we rounded a bend. I remembered seeing it on the last visit and how impressive we found it, but I’d forgotten. The memory lapse bothered me, but I told myself it was because there was so much going on at the time. I put the nag about any damage done by my accident to the back of my mind.

 We continued past the store. On the left side between the rows of sad houses we passed a big open space – the recreation area we’d all met up on. Again the grass had been trimmed and the scraggy growth removed. About two hundred metres further we came to another large building on the left side which looked like a smaller version of the Spa store. Roy pulled up the pony and Lennie ran into the entrance of the building.

‘We’re here . . . more or less.’ Junior said.

Lennie re-appeared with two young men. I recognised one as a member of Jess’s shooting group, the other Lennie’s brother, Cy.

‘Cy will take you to Jess. He’s waiting to welcome you, Maam.’

I recognised the guy speaking. His name was Eric. I remembered the run in he’d had with Alan when he fired at a deer which led to a young boy getting lost and ultimately the discovery of Burnalham. I wondered if he was the cause of Alan’s displeasure with Jess. He seemed friendly and polite though.

Cy beckoned Roy to lead Little Jon to the right. As the pony turned ninety degrees we faced an entrance to a narrow, but clean, road. On either side stood two brick pillars topped off with white marble globes about the size of a football. A cast iron plaque screwed onto the left pillar read, “Oaks House” in elaborate lettering encapsulating an image of oak trees. On the other pillar a simple black on white sign read “Private Drive.”