Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) Read Free Page A

quick fixes were up to running the country. For a while it was chaos then it settled down. Towns like Faeston went for committees, making their own rules, establishing some semblance of order. Getting thugs like Round Up to do their dirty work.
    Tommy’s folks had tried to see him through all this. They’d probably thought they were setting him up all right, not guessing how far things would fall apart. That he’d lose most of the cash when his bank folded. Spend the rest on booze. That was why he needed me as a lodger, as he’d told me the day I moved in.  
    I finished the washing up and started work on the carbs. Bit by bit I reassembled them, setting then up according the notes I’d taken when I’d striped them. On the last few runs out the Triumph had stalled and misfired. Backfiring on the overrun. Not good. Maybe a clean was all that was needed.
    At last they sat reassembled on the table.  
    I went to get ready for the evening. For the race.
    In the bedroom I opened the wardrobe, pulling out my spare boots and trousers. At the bottom was the hatch. The hatch with all the bad stuff.
    For a minute I stood there, immobile.
    Maybe this time I’d let myself ignore it. Not go through the ritual.
    Then I lifted the hatch, drawing out two bags. One clinked as I slid it out.  
    I lay them on the bed and opened the lighter one first, flattening out the paper that was inside, all those documents I’d hung onto. There were the charts and maps. The plans and cross-sections of HMS Gehenna, the last sub the UK had made. The one loaded up with weapons that still was out there now, somewhere waiting to be found.  
    All I had were bits of paper but they'd cost so much. A lot of people.  
    After staring at them for some time I opened the second bag and took out the shotgun, its sawn-off barrel rough and scratched. Without thinking I knelt on the floor, sliding it into my mouth. The end of the gun tasted of metal. The sawn-off barrels rough on my tongue, sulphurous. I closed my eyes and pulled the triggers.  
    The gun clicked once, then again. I held onto it, staying there for a moment.  
    This was something I did. Something that happened. It didn’t mean anything. It was just something.
    I eased the gun out of my mouth, felt its weight, swung it around. Then slid it away. I bundled the Gehenna stuff up as well and dropped both bags into the hatch.
    With the ritual over I grabbed my leather jacket and helmet. Shut the wardrobe.
    That was enough messing around for tonight.
    As I picked up the carbs from the living room I heard a piece of furniture fall over downstairs. Shouting.
    The carbs took a while to fit, as I struggled in the fading light, lining them up, getting the cable in place, slipping on the race filters. Once I’d run fuel through them I thumbed the starter. It churned over, slow then faster, a cough from the exhaust before it chimed into life, the revs rising up as smoke billowed around me, off into the low vegetation of the garden: the stumps of trees Tommy had clear-felled. I held onto the choke until it settled into a rough idle. It picked up on the throttle, dropped down again. Rose and fell in line with the twist grip.
    It seemed to run all right so I picked up the helmet stashed with the bike, unlocked the gate and rode round to the front of the house. I parked it with the engine running, as it wobbled on its side-stand. I pulled on the lid then locked the gate. One of the few rules of the race was that we had to wear helmets.
    The fog had drifted away and been replaced by a cold breeze. I rode off across down, over West Bridge, the one untouched by the tank, but rather than go into town I went up Hill Road at the other side of the river, to the track. The lane where we raced. The bike’s engine ran all right. There was a flat spot at low revs. Some hesitance picking up. But it revved through clean enough, pulling strongly at the top end as I made my way up the hill. Hopefully enough for tonight.  
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