CHAPTER ONE
A lone figure stood in the middle of the deserted highway, his shadow long and shimmering in the late afternoon heat.
There was nothing memorable about the area, the only constant being the sand which could be seen for miles. Every so often, jagged outposts of rock dotted the landscape creating the impression of islands in a flat calm sea. In the distance, the land rose into rolling hills that eventually grew in stature to become jagged mountains, thrusting high into the grey stormy sky.
At the point where he stood, the highway split three ways: the left-hand route joined the newer, sleeker highway which bypassed the mountains, the road on the right led to the small town and the road to the mountains was seldom used any-more by the locals.
They spoke, in hushed tones in the coffee shops and bars, of the road to the mountains which ran through the badlands. They told of the weeds which grew through the black cracked tarmac creating an impression of sentinels guarding the route, the weird lights from the mountains and the general feeling of unease which came upon anyone who ventured up the disused road. Most people chose to stay away, the memories too hurtful.
He stared long and hard at the road leading to the mountains, but lowered his head and set out for the town.
After a few paces he stopped. A slight breeze had risen, blowing some sand across his path. He adjusted his clothing, in anticipation of the impending storm then cocked his head. There was a sound which carried towards him and he wondered if it was the wind. Sometimes in desolate places, the wind whistled and blew, creating strange effects. It then became easy to be confused, imagining all kinds of things.
He listened carefully and determined that it was not the actual wind, but carried on the wind. He gave a shudder and looked around him. The light was fading from the sky, the sun having set a short time ago, and the badlands was not a place to be at night. Better get a move on.
He shook his head and adjusted the pack on his shoulder. The sand blew gently across his boots as he walked along the road. The sound came to him on the warm evening wind but he concentrated and shut the sound out as he walked.
After ten minutes, a shape emerged from the gloom and the man stopped again. He studied the sign and looked at his watch. Another two hours of walking until he reached the outskirts. The sign said 'Grand Rocks, population 3871'. If the town mayor still ran a tight ship, then the sign would have to be altered for he planned on being more than a visitor or a tourist. He intended to stick around for a while. There were things to do, people to see and business to attend to. There were also plenty of scores to settle with people who would be surprised, pleasant or otherwise, at his arrival back in town. Let's see if it's still as 'Grand' as they make out.
The man turned his gaze towards the mountains, across the desert, across the badlands. He narrowed his eyes and imagined what could be going on deep within the rock. If he let his mind run riot, then all sorts of images flooded his mind. Scenes of flashing lights and sirens piercing the stillness were mixed with the grinding of gearwheels and the thump of jackboots. Craziness and misery were jumbled up with euphoria and solitude.
Was there something up there?
It's the pull of the place.
I guess I'll be returning back there soon.
He sighed, closed his eyes momentarily, and began the trek again. This time he didn't stop until he reached the town.