Fork in the Road (Sunday Mercury 'Chiller' Competition)
I'm not surprised
this one wasn't printed. In fact, I'm surprised they put it on the website! I
think I got so over-confident that I came up with any old guff, and 'Fork in
the Road' is certainly that. I'm including it here because officially it's
published work and I'm proud of that if nothing else.
Nothing much else to say
about this, other than I hate the ending more than the rest of the story, which
is saying something.
Fork in the Road
By Christopher
Stanley
The rain was
sheeting down. The windscreen wipers couldn’t cope with it. Fiona’s car wasn’t
designed for these conditions – why did they have to hold a team building
weekend in the middle of nowhere? A trip home in rush-hour traffic to pick up
her suitcase, and then she was off again. What a farce!
She had the map on
the passenger seat, but couldn’t study it and concentrate on the road. Fiona
thought she was heading in the right direction, but the last sign she’d seen
for the lodge had been ten minutes ago, on the last A-Road. Now she was heading
up a narrow country lane, hoping to come across it.
Her colleagues had
been excited about the trip. ‘Sycamore Down Lodge,’ snorted her best friend
Ellie, ‘a chance for middle managers to drink themselves stupid and flirt with
anything in a skirt.’
‘I know; I’m not
looking forward to it either.’
‘I am,’ Ellie
smiled. ‘I’ve been waiting for a chance to be naughty!’ Mind you, Ellie had
been single for a long time.
It seemed like a
high price to pay, travelling in this weather. The worst storms Cornwall had seen in
years, and Fiona had to travel through them to build rafts and solve problems.
She came to a fork
as the road got steeper. Not knowing which way to turn, she stopped. According
to the map, there was no left turn. Fiona sighed in exasperation.
Finding her mobile
battery was flat, Fiona started up the lane to the right. She couldn’t see more
than a few feet. Suddenly in the middle of the road stood a man in a black overcoat.
His cap was pulled down over his face, shielded from the rain.
Fiona locked the
doors. The man strolled over to her window, and she opened her window a crack.
‘I suppose you’re
looking for the lodge, then?’ He had a croak in his voice, and coughed a lot.
‘Yes,’ said Fiona,
tentatively.
‘You won’t find it
here, duck. You should have taken the left path.’
Fiona frowned. ‘But
it’s not on the map.’
‘It’s a shortcut.
The right path will get you in all sorts of trouble.’
The man didn’t move.
Feeling anxious with him there, she slowly reversed down the path.
When she arrived at
the lodge, everyone looked frantic. They were relieved to see her arrive.
‘What’s the
matter?’ Fiona asked Ellie, who was weeping with relief.
‘We were petrified.
We tried to ring you.’
‘I’m fine. I took a
wrong turn but…’
Ellie nodded.
‘That’s what we were worried about. The main road to the lodge collapsed twenty
minutes ago. There’s an enormous mine shaft underneath it, and the rain opened
it up. You’re so lucky.’
‘But you sent
someone to tell me, surely?’
‘The police have
stopped all traffic from the main road. We hoped they’d told you there.’
Fiona considered
this with a confused look on her face, and then fell into Ellie’s arms in a
dead faint.
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