Killing Time

by John Kerr

  Jake was incredibly fit and carried all his gear in an old 95 Litre Para Bergen he had had for many years. His gear almost never changed: a sleeping bag, cold weather clothing, map, compass, global positioning system, mini flares, torch, rations, and plenty of water and salt tablets, which always kept the cramp at bay. He was heading for the old disused quarry on the other side of Beattock’s Ridge. It was a walk he had done before and he hoped to be there before last light. Jake knew he would have to open up a fast pace within a couple of hours if he was going to make it. An hour before last light Jake pushed open the door of the disused quarry storeroom and stepped inside. ‘Well done, son,’ he told himself, ‘you’d have made your old Sergeant Major a happy man’. After some hot food he decided to get a few hours inside his sleeping bag, and once inside, his mind again started to drift back to his army days. Days when he was young and innocent, before he joined Military Intelligence. Life had been very simple then.

  ‘Get up, son…

  Clean the world, son…

  Do as you’re told, son…

  Go back to sleep, son.’

  It was great and he had loved it. Bullshit all day long. Suddenly the unmistakable sound of a weapon being unloaded rocked the inside of Jakes head and in a single, silenced movement he was out of his bag and drew his holstered pistol. He backed slowly up against the side of the boarded up window and peered cautiously out through the small gap and into the night. Almost immediately he saw two dark ghostly figures lumber out of the blackness moving slowly from left to right. He could see their breath shine in the moonlight as they exhaled into the cold night air. Some four paces behind them was a slightly smaller man carrying a rucksack which as way too heavy for him and watched as they all disappeared into the large building which once housed the transport office.

  The large door was unceremoniously kicked shut with a bang loud enough to carry the noise far into the night. Almost simultaneously and without thinking Jake cocked his weapon, knowing that the sound would be masked by the crashing of the door. Seconds later Jake arrived at the heavy door and instantaneously twisted to his right like a cat falling from a roof. He threw his body against the wall by the side of the door just as the dark faced man pulled it back open.

  ‘Shoo,’ he mumbled under his breath, waving his arms above his head and drove the large sheep out of the room and into the cold of the night. He never spoke another word. Jake, almost without thinking grabbed him by the throat and pulled him outside and in a single deadly strike drove the browning pistol butt hard into the nape of his neck. Jake opened his hand and as the dead man crumpled towards the dirt he pushed the door completely open with the nose of the pistol and followed it straight in. Inside was darker than outside but that didn’t deter him; he could feel the room was empty which could only mean the half opened door in the corner held the other two. Jake knew that at least one of them was armed with a large calibre rifle and that was why as he rushed straight into the room giving the door an almighty kick he was more than ready for them. Jake threw a cursory glance round the dimly lit room and immediately his brain went into overdrive and stored every item and its exact location. In the gloom he saw his target reach down and fumble for the weapon lying on the dusty old table top. Jake without a second thought and in a hair’s breadth levelled the pistol and automatically squeezed the trigger three times. The man’s heavy body crashed onto the table which crumbled under his dead weight. Immediately to his right the old torn curtain fluttering in the half opened window caught Jakes gaze and it told him the third little shit had now legged it. The cold night air whistled round Jakes face as he ripped away what was left of the curtain and stared into the dark. He could hear his target hobble somewhere on the old stone yard then spotted his hunched frame in the gloom only thirty metres to his front. Jake quickly launched himself out through the window into hot pursuit just as the darkened figure disappeared behind a row of outbuildings and out of sight. Jake sped after him and as he rounded the corner he watched his last target scramble up the slag heap at the end of the building, pushing debris down towards the bottom. Jake turned and ran back round the building and down to the far end dodging through the shower room and out into the back car park. The old dilapidated conveyor belt which used to carry the slag to the top of the heap stood out against the clouds in the night, silent and still. Jake watched as the man tumbled head over heels down the hill and as he stood upright near the bottom saw him brace himself as he spotted his pursuer step out of the shadows. In the low light the man appeared to be searching frantically for something about his person. Suddenly he pulled his hand from the inside of his coat and lifted his arm and as he did so Jake fired directly at the centre of the mass. The dead man stood there for what seemed like far too long before he slipped backwards onto the rubble and was almost buried by the small avalanche of stones which had followed him down the hill.

  SEVENTEEN

  Jake woke with a start. There was someone outside, someone moving about. He was out of his sleeping bag before he was fully awake, his hand reaching for the holstered pistol that now wasn’t there…an automatic reaction. Shit. He moved towards the broken window. He stayed in the crouched position and listened intently, trying to get a fix on where exactly the noise had come from. He glanced from the edge of the window and suddenly saw the noisemaker… a sheep…another fucking sheep! Jake gave a small relieved sigh which very nearly turned to a smile as he realised it had only been a dream. He gave himself a shake and stepped back into the room and prepared to get his arse in gear. Looking at his watch it read 1.30 p.m. He had slept for five hours, long enough… Time to get a brew on, food down his neck, check his map and get himself ready for tonight.

  It had just gone 2.15 p.m. when he set out. It was still dry with some cloud cover. It wouldn’t be too dark this night but November nights were almost always cold. He was glad to be wearing gloves and a body-warmer.

  He climbed towards the top of Jackson’s Hill. It was over 3000ft above sea level and a good climb, but he wouldn’t go for the summit. That wasn’t on his agenda. No, he would traverse round it and then along the ridgeline on the other side, which stretched about eleven kilometres in total and was quite an easy walk in the moonlight. As he moved upwards at a good pace, his mind drifted to tonight’s walk. Would there be any adventures? Any problems…? Who cared? If there were, he would deal with whatever happened, when and as it happened, like he always did, in the truly professional manner that epitomised Jake Silverman.

  He walked into the night knowing, although now a civilian, he was still a one-man fighting machine. He could, if necessary, move unaided over very long distances through the night, find his target, whatever or whoever it was, and take the necessary action. Take out his objective - any objective - and then fade quickly and quietly back into the night, leaving no trace. As he disappeared round Jackson’s Hill, pushing himself ever harder, he felt at ease with his lot. There were no disturbances in his life, he was the perfect grey man, never standing out in a crowd, never raising his voice above a whisper, and he felt good ……for now.

  On such a walk Jake had the ability to almost switch off. It was just a case of one foot in front of the other, never mind the conditions, just go for it. Jake loved the hills, he always had. It was such a release to get out here again. It was where he felt most at ease with himself, especially at night. Only him, the night sky with the stars looking down and the trees rustling in the wind.

  Seven hours later Jake knew the night was coming to an end. He was 2500 feet above sea level and it had been a good night’s walk. It was cold, as he had known it would be. He had decided to walk through the day. He could reach Cray port if he set a good pace for the next eight or so hours. His watch said 7.24: daylight was almost here. He pushed for the summit of Glas Mol and would be there for the sun coming up. There was little cloud about and the dew made his boots and gaiters wet, more from dampness than anything else. Could he reach the top before the sun came over the horizon? He was now rac
ing against the star at the centre of the solar system - stupid little games like this had always kept him focused on the job in hand. Jake opened his legs more and upped his pace, even after walking through the night he could still stretch it.

  It was fifty minutes later and he could see the Cairn 200 metres directly in front of him. Time for some food. Jake had not realised just how hungry he was. He had only eaten a few chocolate bars to give him energy and keep his hunger at bay. Made it!…He congratulated himself on beating daybreak.

  He took his pack off and immediately felt very light. It was amazing how easy it was to forget the weight that you were carrying. He opened the top hood on his pack and removed his small hexamine cooker and quickly got a brew on. Real priority always took precedence over everything else. He lit the blocks and stood upright and stretched his arms out as if in triumphant victory. It was only then he could see what surrounded him. The sight before his eyes was nothing short of breathtaking. As the sun came over the hills in the distance, it was as if someone had just switched the daylight on – it was awesome. The hills looked like a series of gigantic knuckles in clenched fists sticking up through the ground mist for as far as he could see. He put his jacket on to keep warm and just looked at what was before him. Christ, this was what it was all about: if there was no heaven it did not matter, because he had found his right here. Surely life could not get any better than this. Jake felt totally in tune with his surroundings and knew that if he dropped down dead right here and right now then he would be more than content.

  Breakfast over, he lay on the top of his pack for forty winks. The sun would not give him any real comfort… it wouldn’t get high enough in the sky for that. His thoughts drifted to home as they usually did at times like this. He would always become a little reflective during any down-time that he had.

  What would she be doing now he wondered?…

  What would she be thinking?…

  Would she be thinking of him?…

  Did she always think of him when he wasn’t there?…

  Did she ever think of him?

  ‘Fuck, you could give yourself a headache, thinking too much about this,’ Jake mumbled, as he drifted off to sleep.

  It was a little more than twenty minutes later that his eyes blinked open. He looked at his watch. Good, the body clock was still working. Jake had the eerie ability to take only a short nap. No matter how tired he was, he would never fall into a really deep sleep yet he always managed to extract some kind of rest from any short break. But even stranger still was that he always woke up by himself. A doctor had once told him that his internal body clock woke him when he needed…

  Bollocks! He thought, but it was useful anyway so he didn’t knock it and just used it when he had to.

  EIGHTEEN

  Jake decided to walk through the day and most of the night and by last light he had covered almost 100 Kilometres.

  The night drifted over him like a blanket and brought with it a security he loved. Jake always breathed slightly easier in the darkness. He felt more alive in the dark and was always more tuned in at night. He was moving over the ground as fast as he had ever done. No torch, just the moon to light his way, which made it a little easier. A dog barked in the distance. Jake turned and glanced down towards the light far in the distance, but it was obviously not him that the dog could sense… probably a fox trying to get his dinner from the chicken coop. He pushed further up the valley and could see the hills guarding its entrance ahead of him. Although it was now dark, Jake could just make out their shape against the clear sky. He pushed on through the rain.

  Within the hour the force of the rain changed. It came down harder and the wind drove it directly into his face but Jake walked straight through it. It was only now that Jake would come into his own. He was in his element and had walked further than most people could do in a week. Five hours later after a quick brew he knew the Rannoch valley was well behind him and only a few hours of the night remained. The rain had stopped but it was still hard going. Jake was okay and still going strong. The moor was featureless and desolate: there was nothing to look at, especially in the dark. Nothing except the bleak, never-ending countryside. There was no noise and the wind had dropped to a whisper, but it was still very cold. Jake had got to the point farthest from home and had started on his way back. It always gave him a lift when that happened. There was almost a bounce in his tired steps - it wasn’t much, but it was most definitely there. It would be another thirty-six to forty-eight hours before he would be home, but the challenge would be to get there sooner rather than later. He now wanted desperately to get into her arms and fall asleep next to her. It had always been good waking up beside her. There had been a time when he had found himself lying awake, just watching her sleep for a full two hours. God, she was beautiful and he loved every bit of her. He knew he would love her always and forever. One hour later as if by magic and right on cue he felt the tell-tale vibration in his pocket. The mobile phone made no noise but he knew who it was and exactly the message she had sent. Cold though he was he knew the little ritual would have to be played out to its conclusion so, with great difficulty he eventually punched the ‘Read Me’ button.

  ‘WHERE R U’ said the message.

  ‘COMING HOME’ he replied through frozen fingers and with a great deal of difficulty. Jake knew that Vicky would have remembered how long his walk would take and through experience she knew when he would be past the half way point. Telling her he was on his way home to her would give them both a great lift and it always helped Jake to know she was thinking of him.

  The cold was by now biting into every part of his body, but worst of all was the impact on his extremities; his fingers, toes, ears and nose - they were all suffering. Jake tried not to let it get to him; he had a great ability to ignore what was happening to his body, to walk right through the pain and discomfort - that was what made him so very, very special. After only a few hours sleep, at first light he was on his way again, feeling like a bird migrating south, heading for the warmer weather and long summer days. But his summer was only a day or so away, and he pushed on with a renewed vigour. Jake would take the shortest route home, which meant using the map and compass, going over the hills as opposed to round them. It was always harder to do this but it was a good end to a long tab.

  Morning came and went without incident and by late afternoon he could see in the distance a small track that appeared to be heading in the direction he was going. A quick check of the map confirmed that he had just had a piece of good luck. If a track or road was heading in your direction, use it, so use it he did. Christ, he could almost run on it and he was making good speed and time. Jake was by no means the quickest of walkers, he could just keep going day and night at a relentless pace. He sometimes wondered just how far he could walk before he would have to stop…six days and night’s maybe!

  Then, just before nightfall, Jake saw something quite strange. An old abandoned cottage in the distance with what appeared to be smoke coming from the chimney. Now that was unusual as he knew this was a conservation area, and no one was allowed to move into a cottage. As night fell and he got closer, he moved off the track and onto the hillside. He was making too much noise and he always liked to be on the high ground anyway. For a reason that he could not explain, he was now on a very high state of alert. He came to the cottage from out of a small patch of fir trees and found a van parked behind the cottage and out of sight. Jake crouched at the edge of the wood, about fifty metres away from the cottage. Someone was definitely using it. He watched for thirty seconds, taking in the entire scene before him. The van was dark-coloured. The cottage had two back windows, and a lean-to with a door and a window at the rear. Another lean-to at the side had just an opening for a door and there were logs lying just inside. It was obvious to him that they were new and had been put there recently. The cottage roof had a skylight, which was partially open. A perfect point of entry he thought… if he was going in. The curtains were drawn but there
was definitely a light on.

  Jake decided he would have to take a closer look. A quick glance down the slope showed him the way and he was off. There was absolutely no noise. He was at the window quickly and looked through a small gap in the curtains. The three men inside were playing cards and drinking whisky, 12- year-old, very nice. Two old battery-operated lamps at opposite corners of the room gave off the only light. All appeared normal, if not slightly unusual, but after a couple of minutes Jake decided he should be somewhere else.

  NINETEEN

  Morning brought the sounds of the day and there were even some birds singing as they went about their business. Jake ignored them and they in return tried their best to do the same. On the far horizon about fifty kilometres away he could see Snake Fell and it gave his heart a lift. From there it was only four hours till home and breakfast. Though from here it was going to take the best part of the day to get there. Sod it, he thought. Eat on the move, cold food and plenty of water and salt meant he didn’t have to waste any time. Jake knew he would still have to keep switched on because a tired mind and a tired body meant it was easy to make mistakes, and mistakes out here meant it would be very easy to die. Jake walked as the crow would fly, straight over the hilltops.

  God! He was fucking knackered, but feeling good. The Fell was getting closer. Was that food he could smell, was it the food coming from home? Wishful thinking you asshole! Jake tried to put his thoughts of Vicky out of his mind, but it was hard. He wondered what it would say in the military manual of warfare about the very unmilitary thoughts he was having. Thoughts about what he was going to do with Vicky when he got home…if he had any energy left in him, that was.