The Fell Walkers’ Guide To Eternity
Chapter Two: On Nature’s Invitation Do I Come
Start this story at the beginning
There was a very good reason I killed the man, but first I’ll start with what I suspect: that I am, or was, dead. I’m pretty sure I’m not dead now, but I would be the last to know. I feel alive, I breath, have all my senses and my body is as physical as I can imagine it to be. While it’s true I don’t eat or drink much, having no appetite, I do occasionally take a sip from the many mountain streams and waterfalls. I’ve occasionally been for a swim in the tarns and sometimes there do seem to be ripples on the surface echoing out from me.
My second life, that’s my name for my current state. I think, no I feel that the Lake District was important to me in my first attempt at life, it seems so familiar and even comforting. Perhaps I was a walker, possibly even a rock climber. I keep noticing the cliffs and crags and occasionally get the sense of having been up there before.
Let’s get to the start of part two. My first memory was of lying on rough, cold ground. Everything seemed very fuzzy, like being in a low quality CCTV feed, my vision kept zooming in and out of focus and there was a strobe effect of light and dark that went on for a long time. Eventually things began to clear. I realised that the light and dark may have been the passing of days, but after countless of them I began to get my bearings. It was rock, grey granite. I could make out the paint splattered pattern of lichen, turning my head, the sky was as grey as the rock. I was in cloud, making my skin feel damp, brushed by a cold wind blowing towards me. I could smell something on the wind, soil, no peat. I sat up slowly, adjusting as though awakening from a century long hangover.
Eventually, I stood up, I somehow recognised that I was near a summit, with a long and winding valley below. The flecks and specks in my eyes turned out to be people as my perception slowed down to normal speed. I could feel my heart beating, the rocky ground beneath my boots. That was a clue, what else… I was wearing outdoor gear, waterproof jacket. At first I tried to make myself believe that I’d tripped and banged my head, but no, this was something far more serious.
David. That was it, that’s my name. Perhaps I’d remember more later. I started wandering over the fells, and have done for what may have been a long time. I’m not too sure what goes on in the world, for some reason I feel a compulsion to stay away from the roads, but I often eavesdrop on passing walkers, sometimes I have to.
It’s very likely that I’m some sort of ghost, but I don’t feel like one, I feel real and alive. I’m not a zombie either for the same reason. But what I do know is that sometimes I look deep into the heart of a man and instantly know all about them and their darkness. Sometimes I kill them and this is what puzzles me. I’m not told to do it, I’m not on some mission of divine retribution, but sometimes I just understand what I must do and why.
Like the man I killed earlier. He had defrauded his company and was about to run away with his secretary, the one who had helped him commit his crime. What seemed to tip the balance is that he had arranged for some men to set fire to his house, the one with his wife in. The wife in a wheelchair. Now, that was murder. That’s why I killed him and why I made sure people could see the incriminating messages on the phone he only used for this affair. I didn’t decide to kill him, neither can I say I was told to, but it was just something I was drawn to do.
