They offloaded from the ferry in the light of dusk. The clouds had begun their thunderous torrent hours ago, making the crossing long and miserable. When the lights of Calais broke over the horizon, Gale let out a silent cheer, and now he sat readied for his turn to disembark into the coming night.
Watching the cars and vans and lorries disembark reminded him of the starting gun for a race of a hundred different journeys. He hoped in whispered tones that, maybe some of them would take his story of gleaming towers with them. Maybe they'd believe him, maybe they'd tell others...
Maybe they'd nurture a new chapter for this tale...
It had been the gossip of the bar, the mutterings of bored crewmembers, the news, his words and his sons. Yet no one else had taken the interest to ask more, even as he sipped his salt water at the bar with the bruises on his arms exposed for all to see.
No one really cared more than idle conversation. They now proved that.
Gale fired off a thumbs up as the crewmember waved him off. Engine, In gear, Handbrake. He rolled away.
Into the night...
The checkpoint was quick. A simple wave through and no sideways look. The French autoroute unfurled ahead of him, seaming to wind around and then up into the black and silver sky at the horizon. Somewhere, in that direction, was where she was hopefully waiting.
He hadn't given Carola much thought the whole trip, his mind on the more important matters of the heart. He checked his watch as he drove, ten o'clock...
Had they done it yet? Had it started?
He loaded another cigarette into place, pushing the thoughts away that threatened to make tears breach, and made his heart race even faster. With careful breaths he pushed on. His eyes locked on that ever approaching horizon.
An hour went by.
And then another.
Several more as well, vanishing under the flickering sodium light and twisting darkness. His fellow passengers had now completely dispersed. He'd watched them peel away one after another, their own journeys just beginning. It seemed fitting he now drove the highway alone. Not like anyone else was with him. Even the rain faded long ago.
At a service station he finally caught sight of how far was left. He probably wasn't half way yet. He cursed his impatience, as well as the speed limit. With his arms filled with caffeine of various forms he made sure steps back to his stallion of the night. They rained into the footwell with a cacophony of thuds, the packets of cigarettes got far nicer treatment.
More hours rolled by, and the Mercedes rolled on, completely alone. Gale's mind had drifted long ago. His consciousness weaved through the forest of thought, hidden in the mists of fear and beset upon by the rain of hope. Yet the snap back to reality was as sharp and sudden as a slap to the face.
He reread the sign, then again. The certainty set in.
He was there.
He weaved the streets, eyes peeled on the road and on the skyline between the houses. He searched for it. It would surely stand out.
He half whooped as he saw it hove into view. The church's spire touched the heavens. It's hall sat proud just as it should, and lingering only just in shadow was the faintest of silhouettes.
"Carola." He spoke aloud, imaging her in the City, he smiled at the thought that crossed his mind, he had made it. The time had come.
Time to save his world.
YOU ARE READING
The Fallen City
General FictionDo you remember it? There was a time we all did... We once loved it, we were once nurtured by it. A City, so grand, so beautiful. So enthralling, we promised we would always believe. We promised it we'd never let go But you did. You all did. And now...
