Drifters End

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Kate's been drifting for a long time...
4k words
4.31
27.3k
5

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 09/13/2006
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It was Monday evening and Jilly was even livelier than usual, giggling like a school girl on the other end of the line as she tried to relate the past few months of her life to me. It had been a long time since we'd spoke and I was looking forward to seeing her again.

I brushed my blonde hair across one shoulder and shifted the phone uncomfortably against my ear, absently trying to place the name. "Drifters End? I'm sure I've heard it somewhere before."

The computer screen in front of me cast a pool of cold, white light across the surface of my desk, where a half empty mug of coffee sat abandoned. I tried to think of where I'd heard the name before, but it was no use and so scribbled it down incase I remembered.

Jilly just laughed. "Kate, you're coming, alright? I don't care if there's a freak hurricane about to wipe the whole place out, we're going and you're coming. No excuses. We all want to see you and you said yourself you need a break."

"I know, I know. I want to see you all too." I said. "How do I get there?"

I heard the rustling of paper on the other end of the line. "Oh...um...It's kinda hard to find...I'll fax through the directions Tom sent us." She said.

I felt myself smile and let her words hang in the air, wondering if she'd notice what she'd said. After a pause I laughed slyly and said; "So it's 'us' now, is it?"

Jilly Marks, one of my high school best friends, had recently started dating the unlikeliest of all people; her childhood next door neighbour, Matt Garson, who, for many years, we'd secretly watch skateboarding down in the street below her house, praying he'd look up at us. We both felt incredibly sad for our infatuations when, some years later, we became good friends with that very same lad; for many years, Jilly had vehemently denied any attraction towards him at all. Lately though, things had changed somewhat dramatically.

"Well, you know...we're still taking things slow." She said. I could hear the grin in her voice. "It's just sex."

"Uh-huh. That ain't most peoples idea of slow though Jill." I leant back in my chair and rubbed my eyes with a free hand. "Most people go out to dinner or something first, you know?"

Jilly laughed. "We've been doing that for years. I know as much of his personality as I'd ever want to, believe me...it's the bits of him I don't know so well that I'm interested in now."

I heard a man shout out indignantly in the back ground followed by a soft growl near the mouth piece and gave a cringe, recognising the voice as Matt's, whom all my attractions for had long since departed. "I'm going to let you go...I can see you're busy." I laughed. "Send me through those directions when you've got a minute, alright?"

Jilly shrieked and began to laugh; she was obviously having more fun than me. "Alright Kate, I will, bye." With a final squeal of laughter, she hung up.

Some people have all the fun, I thought.

That night I dreamed the same dream I'd had for years...that I was walking through a thick, shadowy forest, searching for something. I wasn't sure what it was that I was looking for, but I knew that it was waiting for me and me alone. It had been a long search; I couldn't remember when I'd lost the thing, or if I'd ever had it, but I knew that I couldn't go on anymore without it. I called out desperately in the darkness, sure that there was something there, listening, calling my name, but all I heard was my own voice echo back to me in the silence, hollow and empty. Then I woke up shaking in bed and everything was dark and lonely once more.

When I got in from work the following day, there was a long roll of paper spewing from my fax and there were two messages on my answer machine. Placing my rucksack on the floor, I shut the door behind me and pressed play, while I went to change out of my work clothes, which by this stage were covered in everything from rabbit blood to dog pee; the wonders of working with animals.

The first message was from Brian Merryton, the main vet at Ryedale Farm, the animal shelter where I worked. He was asking if I'd travel north with him in a week's time. Someone had been trapping foxes and leaving them to starve to death in the middle of the woods and he said he could do with a hand sorting things out. I wasn't sure if it'd affect my trip and having already said that I'd go along, it'd be unfair of me to back out now, even for something as important to me as my work. Besides, like Jilly said, I needed the break.

Shutting the door of my wardrobe, I waited for the machine to finish the message and pulled on a pair of cotton slacks over my pale legs, then scrutinized myself in the mirror for several seconds. 'You're too thin.' Or 'Your hair needs cutting' is what my parents would say and they were probably right; my skin was pale and my eyes becoming blacker by the day, which I'd come to recognise as a sign of illness in myself. More likely, it was probably down to these damn recurring dreams...

The machine bleeped once and kicked over to the second message, which was from Tom Hayden, a lawyer and ex-boyfriend of two years, who'd arranged the trip to Drifters End.

The trip, which was an annual event between a few old school friends, had become more bizarre as the years passed. In the early years, shortly after leaving college, we'd all travel into the city, see a movie, go to dinner and then over spend at some swanky restaurant and of course, get incredibly drunk. After eight years of this tradition, things had become increasingly more rural and wild and now the five of us, more often that not, went camping in some godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere and told ghost stories around a camp fire, like scouts.

Usually this was appealing to me; it was a chance to see my old friends and have some fun, but this year I just didn't know if I could handle it. But what was worse was that I couldn't figure out why. All I knew was that I felt truly empty inside and in need of something more; though I hated to admit it, I got the feeling that what I wanted was a man. The thought made me a little depressed. Every one of my relationships had frittered away to nothing and I felt like I didn't feel ready to face that again.

Tom's message had his usual serious tone to it but, knowing him so well, I could tell he was rather excited about the trip and this only made me feel guilty for wanting to pull out. What's wrong with me? I thought.

"Hi Kate, It's me, Tom. Jilly said she'd managed to drag you on this trip and, well, I just wanted to make sure you've got directions. It's a tricky place to find and if you get lost out here, well...well, I'll fax you through the details now...call me when you get this. Thanks."

I reappeared in the hall and clicked the machine off, then went to free up my fax. There were two copies of a map, one from Jilly, one from Tom, plus a message from the latter. In his perfect, italic scrawl, he'd written across the bottom of the page –

"Call me Gitan - X"

I smiled. For years he'd called me Gitan, or gypsy, saying I was 'the eternal wanderer'. He said it affectionately, but it always hit home. I felt like I'd been wandering for a long time; I was ready to stay for a while now.

Tom and I had always got on well and he was, indeed, very sweet, but we knew as much as each other that we were never meant to be. Our relationship was good and we had a lot of fun, but that was all it had ever been; laughter and average sex.

When he split up with me, I hadn't really been hurt, just unsure of what to do on a weekend without him there. At least we'd never found it hard to stay friends after though.

I made myself a coffee and picked up the phone, dialling the number of Brian's home.

A few minutes later, I'd agreed to help him with the foxes and Brian was singing my praises. For me it was a pleasure to help, though I knew the work itself wouldn't be so fun and in all likelihood, heart breaking. Still, someone had to and that was obviously going to be me and Brian.

After hanging up, I poured myself a glass of wine and curled into the sofa, kicking off my shoes as I sat down. Then I picked the phone up again and dialled Tom's number.

"Hi." I said as his voice came over the line, broken only by the occasional tapping of his fingers on a computer keyboard. I could picture him at his desk, long legs stretched out as he typed, the phone pressed beneath his ear and his rimless glasses sitting on the crook of his nose. On his desk would be a stack of paperwork and files. "Hard day at the office?" I asked.

Tom sighed and laughed. "Yeah, you could say that. How are you?"

"I'm good. You wanted me to call." I replied.

"You got my message and directions?"

"How else would I know to call?" I grinned. "Not very sharp for a lawyer Tom."

Tom laughed. "Huh, tell me about it. I guess I'm running on empty...can't get my head in gear, you know? Anyway...I just wanted to say that I've booked a cabin just North of Drifters End and you can't see how to reach it from the map."

"Uh-huh...why does this place sound familiar to me?" I knew Tom too well to think he'd booked this place at random. He liked mysteries too much.

He paused and then laughed. "It's been in the newspaper a few times. You know, you're the only one to ask 'why there?' so far."

"Hmm...I know you Tom...why's it been in the papers? It's not known for its high death toll is it? Or because there's been a recent breakout at the local prison?"

Tom laughed again. "No, nothing like that...there've been a few incidences, I guess you could say...sightings of some beast or other that's said to be the soul of Satan...you know the sort; big as a bear, black as a raven, teeth the size of a small island. Nothing too out of the ordinary."

"Uh-huh...I know the sort...aren't they just meant to be escaped panthers or something?" I said, feeling the grin widen on my face.

"Mostly...but this one's meant to be a little different. For one thing, people sat it's not a cat, but a wolf. All very well...I mean, if a panther can escape, why not a wolf?" he paused for several seconds as if contemplating the thought and then continued. "But here's the strange thing Kate, it's never hurt a thing; not human, sheep, cattle or cat...but even stranger is that every one whose seen it, all seventeen people, say that it just turned away from them...and vanished. I mean gone, nothing, into thin air in front of their very eyes." I felt him grin at the other end of the line. "If that's not worth a visit, I don't know what is."

I laughed and shook my head. "I guess so. Wolves that vanish into thin air, yet don't eat meat...you know Tom, if we're still alive by the end of this trip, I think you should seek help."

So that Friday, after finishing work early at two o'clock, I packed my bags into my car, rechecked the map directions and drove north on the M40, then onto the M6, which would take me all the way up to Carlisle. From there it was virtually guess work, but according to Tom, I couldn't fail. I should reach the cabin for around ten pm. No problem, I told myself; you've done worse.

The first few hours of the journey were easy, along roads I'd known since I was young; bland and mind numbing stretches of grey motorway. Halfway up the M6 though, my eyes grew heavy and I knew I'd have to stop at the next services to get some rest and have something to eat.

Opening the window a little, I took a few breaths and focused. It was nearly five o'clock; it wouldn't be long now until I stopped, after all I didn't want to get caught in the rush hour traffic.

The services were full of afternoon commuters and it was nearing five thirty when I arrived, so people, like me, were reluctant to be driving in traffic and had decided to take a break. I pulled up, locked my car and went inside.

After using the bathroom, I bought myself a coffee to liven myself up, as well as some fruit and water from the shop, then headed back to my car to sleep away the rush hour. The sun was already beginning to set and my clock read a ten-to-six.

Half an hour later, I woke to the sound of a dog barking outside my car and realised I should get going, or else I might end up lost in the dark. The motorway below looked clear enough, so I took a drink of water, started my engine and continued my journey north, watching the sun sink slowly into the horizon.

The journey provided far too much thinking time and though I tried to keep my mind on simple things, like driving, I soon found my mind beginning to wander. I mean, what was I doing, coming out here in the first place? I should be getting on with work; they were busy at the sanctuary and needed my help, despite their insistence that I take some time off and relax. My father would have me quit by the end of the week and ship me off to some law college or other to study and use my time 'wisely' as he liked to say. 'Why bother about the foxes?' he'd say 'they're only gonna kill some poor fluffy bunny rabbit once you fix 'em up and set 'em free.'

Then again, my father was never an animal lover; he can't even get on with his own species, let alone another. My mother said it was impossible for two people to be more different than me and my father. They'd both been ecstatic when I'd brought Tom home for dinner. A lawyer was something they could both like.

Tom had been more fearful of what my dad would say when we split up, rather than what I'd say and how I'd feel. Still, I'd not been bothered if the truth be known; I had more important things on my mind. Something drastic was happening to me that I still don't understand to this day. I felt like a ship that had been lost at sea for such a long time that I'd given up all hope of ever finding land; I wasn't even sure there was land out there. But then, somewhere along the line, a light had sparked in my head and began to shine out across the desolate water, a light so bright and beautiful it could have been heaven itself. The only problem was, I'd been sailing towards the light for two years now and I didn't feel any closer to safety. I was beginning to think I might need professional help. Soon.

I hadn't dreamt normally for years; for longer than I dared to think about. They all consisted of the same thing – I was always lost; I was always searching for something; I never found it. I knew it was there somewhere...I could feel it in the air around me, hear it whispering my name from far away, but every time I thought I was getting close, the whisper changed direction and seemed far away again.

I'd dated other men since Tom, but like him, I'd never felt more than friends; friends that slept together each night. It drove me insane. I just couldn't understand why I seemed to lack the ability to want a man in that way; to lust for him so much it was unbearable. All my friends had had similar feelings, so why not me? In truth, I wasn't even sure what it was to feel that way, but I knew that I should feel something more than I did. I felt barely more than half a person, as though I were unable to feel like a normal person does.

The hours slid by in this way; mile after mile of hard grey concrete; car upon car flashing past my windows; thought after painful thought about my life swimming through my head. It had been so long since I'd let myself think that I was shocked at how much thought I'd been suppressing; how much depression I'd not let myself feel.

When I reached Carlisle, I found a place to stop and glanced down at the map, already remembering Tom's directions off by heart for fear of getting lost. I could see that I was making good time; it was nearing nine o'clock and from my directions, there was only another fifteen or twenty miles to go. Besides it was beautiful out here; the air so crisp and clean, so full of exciting stillness. The land seemed to speak for itself, in a soft whisper, calling my name...'Kate...Come to me...I'm waiting for you." it seemed to say.

I was beginning to wonder why I ever considered not coming. This was where I was meant to be; this is where I was safe. Only now did I realise how much I was looking forward to the time away; after almost a year of six day weeks and ten hour shifts, I now felt time beginning to catch up.

Further into the hills and mountains, where the life died out and nature took over, the simple beauty of the views made me feel so full of emptiness that my chest ached and I felt tears sting my eyes. It really felt like I was returning home after a long, harsh winter away and it felt good. That piece of myself, the piece I'd lacked for so long, was here somewhere, I knew. Whatever happened on this trip, I was now so sure that I would find myself by the time it was over; I would be a complete person.

The road I was travelling on seemed to head through forest for a few miles and my phone reception wouldn't be so good there, so pulling over at the road side before I entered the expanse of trees, I took a drink of water and found my phone. The signal wasn't good, but it was still there and would just be enough for me to place a call. Stepping out of my car, I loosened the buttons on my white shirt, letting the cold northern air bite into my neck and tease its way down to my soft, pale breasts. Then I dialled the number of Toms mobile and waited. And waited. And waited.

Eventually his answer machine cut in and I left a message saying I'd been eaten by the beast and that he should send a rescue squad out immediately. Then I laughed and said I was nearly there and that I'd see him and the gang soon.

Hanging up, I slipped my mobile into my shirt pocket and took a deep breath of air, feeling strangely turned on by the landscape around me. Above lay an endless star-strewn canopy that, in parts, was the same midnight blue as my eyes. Sweeping, night-cloaked valleys stretched out all along my left side and to my right, the black, whistling trees of the thick, northern forest stood swaying in a dry and snappy wind.

Smiling, I slid a hand beneath my shirt, absently trailing the line of my collar bone and running my fingers deliciously down my cool neck. My nipples peaked, poking the thin material that was their only cover. I moaned softly and let my head fall back, as I teased a nub between my fingers.

I hadn't felt this turned on in months, years even. What was stranger still was the sensation of being watched and the fact that the wetness building between my thighs showed how much I liked it. I wanted to stay there, strip naked in the wind and bring myself off, watched by unknown eyes in the depths of the trees.

Dragging my thoughts from this fantasy, I climbed back into the car, turned on my stereo and told myself not to think before I got to the cabin. Some old country and western was on the radio, something I hadn't listened to since I was young and I decided to leave it playing to put my mind on something else. When I turned my engine on, my headlights flashed into the dark depths of the trees and for a brief moment, I thought I saw a pair of silver eyes...then they were gone and I knew I must have imagined it. Or at least I hoped I had.

I was, admittedly, a little scared by now and not because I was afraid of 'the beast' or whatever it is they call it, but more because of my attraction towards the forest. I'd never seen anything so dark and unknown; it was like those woods you always saw in horror movies, where the girl goes running into the trees and gets killed by some unseen being just moments later. Why then did I want to get out and go walking in there? I had such strong urges to do it, it was scaring me. Don't be stupid Kate, I told myself; just get there and then freak out as much as you like.

"Kate...Kate..." it was barely a whisper; no more than an urgent, longing growl and yet I felt my body come to life at the sound. The heat spread through my blood like liquid fire, setting every atom in my body in waiting, in wanting.

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