Interrupted Journey

Chapter 4 - Bike

Mike led me a few yards down the road then turned left through a narrow gate that took us into the back of a churchyard. We walked past the church and emerged onto a main road where we mounted the bikes and, crossing the road, we rode into a park. There was nobody about and we made rapid progress.

We emerged from the park into a leafy suburb near Mike's house. Here there were a few people but the looks they gave us were more inquisitive than threatening.

Mike suddenly turned down a track that seemed to lead to somebody's house but there was a gap in the hedge at one side which allowed us to reach a farm track. This took us down through a field, under a railway bridge then, after dropping down a steep slope, we crossed a wide, shallow ford. I followed him up the track along the side of the stream until it met the main road at a gate.

When Mike held up a hand, I rolled to a stop next to him and he took the rifle from the side of my rucksack. As I held his bike, he moved silently forward and climbed the gate. He carefully scanned the roadway then returned to me.

"There's a gang of kids who seem to be breaking into empty cars," he said in a quiet voice as he replaced the rifle. "We could deal with them if we had to but there's no point."

He led me back a couple of yards then picked up his bike and carried it down the steep bank into the stream bed. I managed to follow him, though it was not as easy as he made it look. As I stumbled out at the bottom, he put out an arm to steady me. "Try and keep the gears out of the water," he cautioned me with a smile.

We picked our way up the stream and crossed under the road in a concrete pipe. By walking at the edge of the stream I managed to avoid filling my new boots with water but I was already glad I was wearing them rather than my old trainers.

"Lucky you spotted the culvert!" I said as we emerged on the far side of the road and carried our bikes up to a rough track.

"Luck?" he responded with a smile. "This is one of three routes we worked out to get out of town without having to use main roads!"

"We think we'd even manage to get a four by four through," he added, "but we'd have to drive it all the way up the stream from the ford."

I told him about my hopes for my Land Rover and he nodded. "That'd be handy," he observed.

We followed the track up a wooded valley then across fields, up onto the ridge where we had spent the previous night, though further to the East. It was turning into a beautiful clear spring day and it was easy to forget the problems in the world. The birds were singing and there was not a cloud in the sky. There was also not a vapour trail. Mike quietly observed that he had not seen a single plane in the air since the lights went out.

We followed the ancient, rutted trackway along the ridge for a few miles then it went into woods and began to climb quite steeply. We were both sweating by the time we emerged into open fields. From here it was only a short way to the highest point on the ridge where we stopped for a drink. Looking to the North East we could see the mountains for the first time.

There was a long downhill stretch along a country road. It was tempting to let the bike run and see how it would handle at speed but the thought that there could be threats - or even just stationary cars - round every corner, kept me on my brakes. At the bottom there was a long ride on quiet roads across farmland. Here the few people that were about seemed to vanish as soon as they noticed us.

Gradually the mountains drew closer and soon we were climbing up a wide valley alongside a bubbling stream. The country lane crossed the stream and began to climb more steeply and we arrived in a tidy, little village called Greenings. There was a small crowd of people gathered in front of the church and, as we were passing, an elderly gentleman in an ecclesiastical collar stepped forward and politely asked us to stop

"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" he said. "My name is Graham. Are you from the government... the army?"

"No," I answered. "We're just on our way home. I left my daughter at a birthday party..." I had to do some mental arithmetic before continuing, "yesterday morning and I need to get home to make sure she's alright."

"I understand," he responded, as the crowd gathered around us, not in a threatening way, simply interested in what we have to say. "We won't keep you long but could you possibly tell us what's going on?"

"All unprotected electrical circuitry appears to have burnt out," I explained. "It's probably caused either by a nuclear explosion high up in the atmosphere or by a big solar flare."

"Nuclear explosion?" the gentleman repeated in horror. "Are we in danger?"

"Yes, but not like you think," I answered. "If it was an explosion it'll have been much too high to give radiation problems."

"The problem," Mike went on, "is that, without electricity, society as we know it will break down. If what we said is true, and if we do not receive significant help from outside, over 90% of the population is going to die in the coming year."