Chapter 3
The Siren did not go off at 8am that Sunday morning, as it did every other morning, waking the residents of the town that never really wanted to exist, Sunday was a lie in day in Underwood, Sunday was a non-working day, Sunday was the day they buried their dead, Sunday was a day the courts were held, Sunday was Judgement day, Sunday was grievance day, Sunday was creation day, Sunday was welcoming new family day, And some Sunday’s was a day somebody was sentenced to go into the woods and feed whatever was in there, To some people in Underwood, Sunday was just like any other day, smoking and drinking, trying to forget, No Sunday was not a working day, there was far too much to do on a Sunday.
The Sheriff of Underwood lived in the last house in Woodland road, that’s what he wanted to be called in Underwood, he relished the name, thought it gave him an aura of power, it had a bit of Americanism to it and he loved that, he missed hearing about the states, but he didn’t need no name for people to feel that he was the one with power, he knew people smelt that every time they saw him, he could tell by the fear in their eyes, he wasn’t up early that morning, Allan Herapath was never up that early, he was a big man, he looked as broad as he was tall, and at 56 years of age, he had a good head of hair that shone a colour of silver, ruggedly handsome, ‘fit as a butchers dog’ everyone would say, ‘the strength of an ox’ others would say, murderous bastard most called him but never to his face, no Allan Herapath was never up early, one of the reasons being, the only reason being was that Allan Herapath, the sheriff of Underwood never slept.
He sat at his Kitchen table in his modest home, a home that he had no desire to live in, in a town he had no desire to live in, his home must have been elsewhere because this never felt like a home to Allan, no breakfast or coffee lay in front of him nothing frying on the stove, the kitchen standing as if it had never been used, it was unlived in as a home could ever be, it was just the way he wanted it, he was focussing on the duties he had to do today, that’s all that was on his mind, his performance as the sheriff of Underwood, sadly there was a burial, 32 year old Haydn Williams was to be buried today, or what was left of him, that was at midday, there were two refusals of pro-creating that had to be dealt with, but that was easily dealt with, as the Vicar would say “what they are not prepared to give, shall be taken from them” ‘when will these women learn’ he said to himself, but all that was the norm for a Sunday, in fact this Sunday was quite quiet, which he was glad as he had a new family to welcome, the population of Underwood had just gone up by four, which he thought was good as some outsiders were very rare in Underwood.
‘I hope they got skills’ Allan thought, ‘sure could use them’.
He looked at himself in the mirror, straightened his tie, his uniform was always pristine, his gun always polished and cleaned, he looked at his shiny boot’s, yes that was okay he could see his face in them, he put on his flat cap, rubbed his fingers against his chin, hoping he could feel no stubble or he would have to shave again, it was good, he walked out of his front door to meet his day, and the day of the residents of Underwood, the sun was shining, he didn’t much care for that, he would much prefer the rain, rain sometimes brought results.
He had been the Sheriff of Underwood for a long time now, too many years for him to remember, ever since he created it, ever since he had restored this once failing neighbourhood into the glory it stood in now, yes he had created a fine place to live, that’s all he wanted, sometimes he thought the people of Underwood didn’t appreciate what he had done for them, he had told them sacrifices would have to be made, which may involve loss of life, he had told them that he would create a new generation of Underwood beings, he had warned them not to go into the woods, but still people occasionally tried to flee, he had told them there was no way out, it was a man’s Town he created, he knew that, but where he came from the male was the king of that particular jungle, now Underwood was his jungle and those who lived in it would see him as king.
For a while Peter and Eileen just stood there holding their children, Peter could feel Nathan shaking and he wasn’t sure if he was shaking as well, Eileen cuddled Lily, both had tears running down their cheeks, they all went into a group hug, as they tried to take in their surroundings, the surroundings that weren’t there just a couple of hours ago, all the time expecting some logical explanation to bounce out before their eyes, but it never came, and the more they thought about it, the less likely it was to come.
‘What’s happening dad?’ Lily cried, her voice showing her fear as she looked at the trees where once stood a road, her young mind not quite taking everything in, Peter didn’t answer at first, he wasn’t sure what was happening, yesterday they were leaving Sheffield for a holiday in Cornwall, nothing extravagant, just a caravan on a holiday site in Newquay, 24 hours later they were stood in a place where the trees appeared to move, and the people were more than just a little strange, he wanted to walk into the woods, find the road, find a way out, but the fear stopped him doing it, the fear of the trees, it wasn’t mind tricks, the trees weren’t there that morning, it was a road, somehow those tree’s had got there, he was sure of that, ‘or are we all just going crazy’ he thought, and as they hugged each other the number 64 bus pulled up, the 4 of them just stood looking at the bus as, Steve Duce, the driver who had taken them to the social club stepped from it, ‘this is fucking crazy’ Peter said.
‘You bet it’s fucking crazy’ said Lily still holding her mother’s arm.
‘What are you doing up here’ said the bus driver as he challenged them, his face was angry, Steve Duce was not at all happy, Peter wanted to grab him by the throat and demand answers, and for a moment stepped forward to do exactly that, Lily wanted him to do the same, ‘smash him dad’ she told herself, but his own common sense told him not to, he looked at the bus driver up and down, he wasn’t going to take any shit from him this time.
‘You shouldn’t be up here’ Steve added, scalding them like school children,
‘Where’s my car’ asked Peter assertively, ‘we want to leave’
Steve stood before them now in his fluorescent vest, ‘The roads blocked and I wouldn’t go into the woods if I was you’ his words chilled them and 4 pairs of eyes went to the direction of the woods, no one wanted to go in there, he didn’t have to tell them that,
‘What the fucks going on, there was a road here this morning’ Peter could not believe the words that came out of his own mouth such was the absurdity of what he just said, he shook his head as if denying everything.
Steve had that grin on his face that he had earlier, he didn’t wish these people any harm, but just like everybody else, he had a job to do, and just like everyone else he had to do it well or suffer the consequences,
‘you’ve come the wrong way, get in I’ll take you to the pub’ he opened the door, held out his arm as if to guide them and the four of them went onto the 64 bus for the second time that morning, it wasn’t as if they had a choice they were in a place where roads disappear, they didn’t bother sitting down, thinking that in less than a minute they would be getting off, only this time the journey took 12 minutes and they drove past places they hadn’t seen earlier, Peter thought ‘how the hell can that be, we walked it in less’ as they drove and passed the houses and shops, people were out in the streets now and many of them pointed to the bus, and the family in the bus looked at those pointing at them, Those sharing conversation with each other as they looked and pointed at the bus, it was then that Peter thought they may have walked into something far more sinister then he first imagined.