Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

softly across to the door, slowly pulled down the zip, and peered out into the blackness.

Harry’s head came up beside me.

“What could it have been?” I said in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know. An animal? A bird maybe?”

“Fuckin hell. A bird.”

Harry remained by the door as I got back in my bag. He picked up his book and tried to concentrate. I could feel his tenseness, though.

He put the book back down, “Do you think it’s safe here?” He looked perturbed.

He’d read my thoughts exactly, but I said “Yeah. It’ll be fine.” as confidently as I could.

The wind softly rustled the branches again. The sound was a relief. Some of the leaves skittered the ground as they dropped. Every noise was amplified, and we were totally at the mercy of our fears. I realised then, at long last, what had taken me so long to understand- why so many people preferred the chaos of the cities to areas like this. The silence and remoteness was deeply unnerving, at eight in the evening it could seep into your brain and drive you crazy. The cities and towns provided light, lengthened out the day and decreased boredom. Life became more sheltered and comfortable. Maybe the sacrifice was worth it? But for so long I’d thought this was what I wanted- to get away from the iron grip of society. To be free, and left alone. No, it’s still what you want, it’s only humans that are dangerous, I told myself. Ghosts, and the very few animals that are out here, won’t hurt me.

But I was sure I had seen a ghost only last week. I remembered it perfectly. Oh, I wished I hadn’t watched so many daft Hollywood movies. All those demons and aliens were coming back to me now. I remembered what Sandy had said in the hospital, about being scared to sleep at night. I tried to calm myself and be rational.

Then something snapped right next to the tent. I thought I heard movement. My senses rose to their peak. Harry was sitting up like a deer caught in the headlights. The trees hushed. The stream gurgled. An owl hooted somewhere. It was nothing. This is ridiculous, I thought. I switched on my CD player and played Time out of Mind.

I’d only got through one song when Harry’s fearful eyes turned on me, his lips mouthing something. I pulled out the earphones. “What?”

“I just said, what are you listening to?”

“Oh. Bob Dylan. Time out of Mind.”

His eyes darted to the door then back to me. I hadn’t seen him this anxious since the first night in the hospital. “That’s a great album,” he said. His eyes shot to the door again.

“It’s fine. It was probably just a rabbit.” I forced a chuckle. “There’s two of us anyway. Whatever it is, I’ll kick their ass.”

His face relaxed a little. He smiled. “I know. Just a rabbit. Did you know the last song on that album is based on a Burns song?”

“No. My heart is in the highlands?”

“Yeah. That’s Burns.”

I turned off the CD player.

“You don’t like Burns?”

“Just not read him much.” I said.

“Fair enough. You should though. He’s awesome,” he said distractedly as he remained sitting up, his wide eyes fixed on the door. “I thought this was what I wanted,” he said, “But now I’m here and…”

“We both want this. It’ll be fine.” I replied, realising I had taken on the role of counselor. For some reason I felt a sense of déjà vu. “We’ll adapt.” I continued, “Here, you want to listen?” I held up an earphone.

“Nah, I’m okay, thanks.” He showed me his book.

I edged across to the door and peeked out. “The stars are out! Want to sit outside? At least we’ll see a bit more of what’s around us.”

“Okay.”

We took our headtorches down to a gap in the trees. The sky was absolutely packed. Harry lay down his jacket and we sat on it, our sleeping bags wrapped around our shoulders. It felt safer, and more open out there.

“We should try and get a fire going tomorrow.” Harry said. “Nothing beats a roaring fire.”

“Yeah, we’ll be more prepared tomorrow.”

“Doesn’t feel as cold as it did the last two nights?”

The moon shone brightly amongst those hundreds of stars. The wind slowly pushed clouds across.

Harry pulled his sleeping bag closer to himself. “This is nice. You see any star signs?”

“No. You?”

He shook his head. His black eyes sparkled as he looked up. “The Greeks used to sit and make up stories about them. That’s where most of the star signs came from. They were such good storytellers.”

“Cool. I didn’t know that.” I said. “That one’s pretty cool, the seven sisters. You know the Japanese car Subaru is named after that.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look at that!”

I followed his pointing finger to the cloud-face that flashed in the sky- a sinister face with eyes, nose, ears, an open mouth. It seemed to be staring at us. It took me aback too.

“Fuckin hell!” Harry said.  We kept watching as it broke apart and fell in with other clouds. “That’s eerie, man. That was a perfect shape of a face. We’re always being watched, man. We’re always being watched.”

PART 3

 

 

Chapter 45-

I woke to the songbirds, and Harry snoring. The watch on his thin wrist said 10.30am. I got changed as quietly as I could under my covers then opened the door. A thick grey fog floated through the landscape and I watched it, mesmerized, as I stepped through the hardened snow. The stream was gushing with numerous little waterfalls, and I filled the pot from one of them and washed my face.

I sat outside the tent with my cup of tea. The birds hopped along the