Chapter the Third: House!

The police had contacted my neighbour and the house had at least been watched over during the two weeks I had been in the hospital. There were no furry surprises in the fridge and my mail was piled on the kitchen table neatly in order of obvious importance. There was canned food in the cupboard and I set about making myself at home. I sat idly in the kitchen with a bowl of soup and began dealing with the piles of mail. Mostly junk and flyers which were out of date by now, a letter from Maggie and the kids telling me they were staying over in France for a while longer and would be back at the end of the month unless she managed to get booked on another seminar. There were a couple of bills, one for the visa and one for the electricity and a couple of issues of the local newspaper. The first of which was remarkable in that it had a headline which told of my crash.

I began to read through the column and turned the page to reveal a picture of the crash site. The photographer must have been on the scene quite quickly after the accident. There was the truck slewed across the lanes of the highway, the two women from the Ford were standing at the side of their car and the paramedics were dealing with my wreck seen through the broken rails of the safety barrier. Another team was treating the driver of the Range Rover for what appeared to be minor head cuts. His car was jammed against the concrete of the central meridian wall. While he and his family stood at the edge of the road nearby.

I had a sudden feeling this picture was very important I couldn't tear my attention away from it. The newsprint dots, the writing, the position of the people in the photograph. It was suddenly essential I see something in this photograph. Something that had to do with my new-found gift. I knew this had to do with the 'obligation' which I'd been told about during my dream.

I closed my eyes and laid my hand across the paper. With a deep breath, I cleared my mind and allowed the photograph to take shape in my head. The sharpness of the image made the scene fresh and brilliant. The characters were frozen in time, the vapour from the truck's hydraulics hung in the air as a solid curtain. The cars on the other side of the barrier were caught in their rush. I began to track through the scene, able to move around in three dimensions and see the scene from different angles. What was it that was wrong here? I couldn't tell, but there was an urgency in my search which made me sure I should find something.

I began to check on the positions of all the people in the site. The Truck, the Range Rover, the Ford, the Fiat spread along the concrete wall by the truck's wheel, my car crashed through the fence. Something screamed out for my attention.

Then I was on to it. I could see through the rear side of the Fiat. The metal of the roof torn up and away like a can of beans. What at first appeared to be a pile of blankets revealed itself to be a body, squashed into the space left between the front seat and the parcel shelf. It seemed to be laying over something and as I centred my view on it, I found something which surprised me.

The smashed cadavers now dripping across the dashboard of the Fiat, had been carrying a high-powered rifle which looked as if it could take out an elephant.

Its barrel was just poking past where the body used to have a lap and from the tiny wisp of vapour which still clung to the muzzle, had been recently fired.

When I checked out the truck in minute detail, there was a flash mark at the rim of the truck's wheel where the tire had blown out. The skid marks showed the result of that. It was certain the mark was a result of a bullet For some reason, the Fiat's passengers had been taking pot-shots at the truck as we were driving that road, but why?