Killing Time

by John Kerr

  He turned into Bishopton Lane, only fifty or so metres from his front door. He could make out the hills beyond the far end of the village and, although the street lights shone quite brightly, their ghostly shape stood out. He wondered where Jake was right at that precise moment; it was now 11.30 and Peter knew Jake would have started walking many hours ago. He would be warm, even in the cold night air. He would be moving fast. He would be fully armed and tactical, and he would be planning where he would hide his weapons and ammunition. It would be somewhere up there; he would fix the grid position only in his head. He would never write it down, and he would never forget where it was. He would just leave it there until next he needed it. As Peter climbed the steps leading to his front door he could feel the first snowflakes fall onto his face. Christ, it was going to snow now. His heart sank as he thought of his friend, walking through the night as the snow fell around him… It would not be easy, it would not be nice.

  Peter was suddenly overcome with an enormous feeling of friendship towards Jake; he was out there doing a job for his country, a job that his country would never know about. He was doing it without any chance of anyone thanking him. They could never, and would never, appreciate what Jake was doing for them over and over again. It was a thankless task and the more he did, the more he would be asked to do. But not once had Jake ever complained; he was a true professional. He went about his job in a manner that would be alien to most people. Over the past few days had covered almost 160 kilometres in all weathers, and had done things that most people would find abhorrent. At this very moment, when everyone else would be a physical wreck, what was Jake doing? He was making his way back home as fast as he could, only to receive a new set of orders and return almost immediately to the hills and start all over again. Peter had nothing but the utmost respect for Jake. He thought it a great shame that Vicky would never find out what was hidden deep inside Jake’s head. Peter looked up into the night sky and the snowflakes made him blink repeatedly. He couldn’t stop himself wondering that if Jake had not been in the Circle, if he had always been a postman, would she have stayed with him. Would they still be together? Who could say? She was now very much in love and had everything she wanted. Vicky and Jake were in the past, it was history, but Peter knew the relationship, although dead, may not be completely buried…and Peter knew he would have to watch the situation very closely. He stopped and stood at the top of the steps, watching as the snow began to cover everything around. Soon there was a white blanket everywhere, and even in the last few moments the flakes themselves had thickened considerably. He had one last look at the hills that concealed Jake Silverman from the outside world. Peter gave a small shiver as he put his key in the door, pushed down the handle and stepped inside. As the warm air from the house hit his face, his last thought was of Jake. Rather you than me, mate.

  But as he closed the door behind him the sound that he didn’t hear was the far-off howl of the northeast wind. It swirled around the hillside, making it a night that Jake Silverman would never forget… ever.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Jake could see home far off in the distance; he could feel it as always, but this time was different. As the night wore on he could tell his pace was dropping… and it was dropping involuntarily. Jake felt good physically, but he knew deep down that something was wrong - something had changed and he tried not to think about it. She would be sitting by the fire with the man who held her heart in his hands. She would be looking deep into his eyes, running her hands through his hair, whispering softly into his ear, kissing him so very gently with her sweet lips. The thoughts kept coming back at him and he was finding it increasingly difficult to shake them. Jake knew that his head should be filled with what he had been through over the past couple of days, but all this was new to him. He couldn’t explain or understand this pain that was hurting him so badly. How was it possible that any number of enemies, armed and extremely dangerous, had little or no chance of getting to him, could never hurt him, yet here he was, tramping through the dark with a heart heavier than all the gear stashed in his pack. All this caused by a little angel who fell from heaven’s gates and crashed straight into his life. It felt like forever ago and he wished that all this hurt would go and leave him in peace, but somehow he knew that this was going to be the very longest drag. He finally made the top of the peak and traversed along Blackford Ridge. The sleet that had been falling turned into snow. Jake knew he would soon have to drop off his weapons and ammunition… or maybe he should just pay a little visit to Vicky and her new lover. In through the back window of their little love nest, empty a few magazines into his new T.V. It’s alright mate, I’ll get you a new one for an engagement present. Jake shook his head slowly. He was letting this thing get to him. Better just dump the gear and get home. Without warning, the ground disappeared from beneath him and he ploughed straight down into a bog up to his chest. Automatically he thrust his arms outward making himself into a crucifix shape, stopping him from becoming completely submerged. The freezing cold water sent shockwaves straight through his whole body and he screamed soundlessly. Immediately he started to move his legs in a backward pedalling motion. This was bad. He switched straight into survival mode. As his legs slowly broke through the mud he found himself lying face down. Jake was trying desperately to spread his body over the largest possible area, which would hopefully enable him to stay on top of the bog and crawl out. He lay still for the next few minutes and felt the snow as it began to fall on his back and down his already soaking-wet legs. Jake gathered his thoughts and then slowly started his long crawl forward. How long it actually lasted he didn’t know - all he did know was that it felt twice as long as forever. It sapped his energy like nothing before; the ground beneath him felt like it was never again going to be solid enough to take his weight standing up. Jake crawled for what seemed a lifetime and was getting nowhere fast. Somehow the night that had always been a great comfort to him, that had always protected him and hidden him in times of trouble, felt like it was trying to swallow him up and never let him go. There was no part of his body that could be considered dry. He was completely soaked through to the skin. His legs went completely numb, panic gripped him and he knew there was the strongest possibility that he wasn’t going to clear this. His face fell into the mud, forcing him to close his eyes. An image of Vicky suddenly jumped into his mind. Fuck! It was crystal clear. Shit, there she was, standing right there in front of him. He could see her as clear as day; he could almost touch her. She gave him the smallest of smiles, very slowly stretched out her hand, nibbling on her bottom lip as she did so…

  Where it had come from he hadn’t a clue, but suddenly a charge surged through his entire body. The feeling of being plugged into the mains jolted him into life. Jake knew it wasn’t Vicky who wanted him to survive and make it home, it was only his memory of her. But that was good enough for him. Energy seemed to flood back into him and he crawled into the night. He could hear Vicky whispering to him …‘pain is only a state of mind and the skin is waterproof’ … it made him smile.

  ‘Thanks, babe.’ He had said it loud enough to make him glance round to make sure no one had heard. The snow fell more heavily than ever but he ignored it completely. Jake could feel the ground beneath him gradually become firmer… slowly at first, but it was definitely there. It gave him the lift he needed and after another ten minutes or so he forced himself up into a standing position. Jake could feel his whole body shake in a desperate attempt to generate some inner body heat. Shit, his body core must be freezing. He took a step forward and immediately found himself face down again. He had no feeling in his legs whatsoever and it took a colossal amount of energy to drag himself back up and try again. Jake knew the only way to survive and get himself out of this shit was to get some heat into his body. The quickest way to achieve that was to walk as hard and as fast as he could. He was staggering through the snow like an old man, but very slowly, as the snow drove harder into his face, Jake’s body responded as he hoped i
t would; within half an hour he felt he was going to make it. As the ground firmed up even more, Jake felt it fall away and he came off the ridge and down into the valley below. The snow had reduced visibility to almost zero and he knew he had to get into some sort of shelter soon, but right now he was stuck out in the open in what would turn out to be the worst snowstorm in living memory.

  The gradient of the hill was very gradual and it felt like hours as he pushed his way through the deep snow. Jake had no thought in his head except that of survival. The shivering had stopped which meant he had either generated enough body heat or he was dead. Whatever it was he was now on full automatic. He had switched off and was just putting one foot in front of the other, and he knew in his heart of hearts that he would continue to do so until he was safe. The noise of the wind as it whistled past made him wince. Snow was driving directly at him and he pulled his hat completely over his face. He leaned into the wind to give himself a little extra cover… it didn’t help. Jake was dragging his feet through the snow…it was just too hard to lift them. The gradient stayed virtually the same for a further two hours and he tried very hard not to think of Vicky. Thinking of her could make him ask himself why he wanted to get off this fucking hill… she didn’t want him anyway. It was a question he knew he had to avoid at all costs.

  Jake stumbled on and suddenly walked straight into a tree. His MP5 dropped to the ground, making an imprint in the deep snow. Jake followed it down and immediately felt for his weapon, pulling it up close to him. He was unable to feel the pistol grip; his fingers were completely frozen and he wondered if he could even have frostbite. The thought of it filled him with dread as he forced himself to check out his surroundings. Jake regained his footing and he could see the forest as it stretched out before him. He didn’t admire the view too long, he had to get inside and out of this blizzard as quickly as he could… it just might be the saving of him. He pushed deeper and deeper in to the forest. It was still snowing very hard but the trees had given him the lift he had needed. The wind dropped considerably as the forest welcomed the weary traveller, and he staggered further and further in. He could just make out a large fallen tree directly in front of him. The roots had lifted a large portion of earth as it had toppled, and the earth had become solid over the years. Jake knew that if he could get inside he could get some hot food down his neck and get some well-deserved rest.

  The collapsible shovel stayed in his pack. In desperation he pulled at the earth with his hands. The fallen tree made an excellent shelter. It was almost a miniature cave and Jake crawled as far inside as he could. His fingers still didn’t work properly but he did manage to open his pack and remove his sleeping bag. After trying unsuccessfully to light the small portable stove, he decided on cold food. Jake ate as much as he could and after a huge effort felt the warmth of the sleeping bag as he pulled the hood over his head. He wrapped his arms around his MP5. He didn’t have to wait too long before sleep overcame him and he passed out through sheer exhaustion.

  FORTY

  Jake didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke he knew he still had problems… He was still inside his bag when he was jolted awake by his own violent shaking. Whether it was the image of the train hitting Vicky or his inbuilt desire to stay alive that brought him out of his uneasy sleep he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that suddenly he was sitting bolt upright, shivering uncontrollably. The smell of dampness was making him feel nauseous. He was still freezing cold and he knew that he would soon be suffering from exposure. Eventually, the shaking would stop and he would drift off to sleep… never to see the light of day again. The overwhelming drive to survive was very strong in Jake. He knew that to stay where he was would be to give up and he could never do that. Slowly he pulled the bag down from over his head and immediately a strong icy blast forced its way inside and stung his face. Outside was very much colder than inside. He could see it was not yet daylight but he managed, with another superhuman effort, to release himself from his potential shroud.

  Jake’s bones felt like they had been welded together and his whole body ached. Slowly, very slowly, he packed everything away as best he could; from here on in he would appear to everyone to be unarmed. Jake knew he would soon have to leave his equipment in a secure place. It would have to wait until he could get some heat and relief from the sun, which he hoped would help thaw him out. His watch said 6.30; over an hour till first light and he knew it was still going to be a struggle. Last night’s storm had stopped him from checking his map as much as he would have liked. Although he knew roughly where he was, he had decided to initiate his ‘lost’ procedure - come off the hill, find a small stream and follow it down, it would always eventually lead to civilisation - but first he had to get rid of his gear. He slowly pushed through the trees and drifted left; this was easy because the hill was climbing up to his right and he knew the further he descended, the warmer it would be. After thirty minutes he could see light ahead. The trees began to thin out; he was coming out of the forest.

  He walked out into the snow-covered fields, his breath obscuring his view a little. The temperature was still sub-zero. Jake could see that the ground ahead dropped away sharply. He was standing at the very corner of the forest and the summit up to his right was hidden inside the clouds. Although not yet first light, the darkness had begun to fade and the new day was approaching fast. He stepped out onto the crisp new snow, which made walking very difficult. Jake knew it would soon begin to sap his strength but he pushed on. Daylight very slowly lifted the darkness of the night that could so easily have been his last. Very gradually his legs came to life and he began to feel somewhat reassured. Little by little Jake could feel his strength return. As he stumbled on he somehow managed to tear open the chocolate bar that had taken him almost five minutes to get out of his pocket. Shit! His hands were completely numb, but he knew he had to get some energy from somewhere. On the move the easiest way was always chocolate with lots of sugar and glucose. After breakfast a quick glance at his watch told him he had been walking for over an hour and a half and he reckoned he had covered roughly two kilometres. The deep snow made the going very tough and although it was now light there was a heavy mist that clung to the hillside. ‘It doesn’t get any harder this, sonny boy!’ Jake suddenly remembered an old platoon Sergeant saying that to him as they scrambled over crags in the middle of the day on the hills many years ago.

  ‘Oh yes it fucking does, Sergeant,’ he said out loud to the man who by now was most probably retired and sitting in front of an open fire with his feet up, his belly full. As Jake pushed on he continued to blow into his hands. Any heat was good heat, and he could see the swelling in his fingers begin slowly to subside. He flexed them again and again, blowing into them over and over. God only knows what kind of state his feet were in. He was still soaked completely through to the skin. Still, he felt a little better than he had when he had woken up that morning, and he knew it would need the sunlight to burn off the mist, which gave him about fifty metres visibility. He fought with his legs as he tried desperately to get them to open more. He didn’t want to be up here any longer than was absolutely necessary. Suddenly Jake could hear a sound that lifted his spirits considerably. The trickle was in the distance. It was faint, but it was there, and as he pushed through the morning mist the noise gradually got louder and louder. Jake could hear the water from the small stream break over some rocks, and, without conscious effort, his pace got slightly faster. There it was… a black line running left to right, just ahead. It was meandering through the snow like an enormous snake. Soon Jake was lying in the snow, drinking as much as he could. It was life-giving fluid and it tasted better than water had ever tasted before. Jake submerged his head and washed some water into his hair. Christ, it was cold, but it gave him the jolt he needed and he felt better for it. Sitting back upright he surveyed his surroundings; the light-grey sky and the snow-covered hills made distinguishing between the two difficult. It was still bitterly cold and he feared the temper
ature would most probably stay quite low. He just had to get off this fucking hill, and soon. Another quick chocolate bar down his throat and he was off again.

  The small stream was twisting and turning as it made its way down the hillside but Jake had already decided to take the shortest route while always keeping the stream in sight. Tired though he was, his fingers were beginning to get some feeling back and as he walked he managed to get his map and GPS out. Getting a fix on the satellite wasn’t easy, but he found his position on the map and reckoned he had only another fifteen kilometres to go. The going looked easy enough but he had to keep telling himself that he would be home when he was home. Let’s not get too carried away… there’s always the next hill.

  A small outcrop of rocks appeared and the small stream seemed to go round the far side and re-appear fifty metres or so down to his right. Jake came up to the rocks that were pushing out through the snow and began feeling his way into them. Removing his small shovel from his pack he used it like a prod to find a suitable hiding place, and after only a few minutes had made a hole deep enough to take his gear. It would only be temporary; he didn’t like his equipment to be so close to civilisation but he had to get rid of it and get back home and sorted out. Better to be alive and un-armed than dead and armed to the teeth. It took him fifteen minutes to unload and get all his equipment into a protective plastic bag and inside his newly-dug hole.