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chapter 1
Change
At some point during Ben Aynsley's  walk
home, the world changed around him.
He didn't realise it was happening at the time, of course.
It was only when he reached town that he began to spot the
differences, the changes.
It was only when he reached town that his problems really
began...
~
He'd been over at Andy's house in the small village of Weeley,
watching football on satellite TV. After the match they'd
had a kick about in Andy's back yard and then, with the storm
clouds heaped up on the horizon, Ben had headed for home across
the wasteland known as Barlow's Patch.
The storm was like no storm he'd ever experienced.
Within minutes of Ben setting out, the clouds had tumbled
across the sky, blotting out the afternoon sun. As he cut
across the old quarry track the first heavy raindrops began
to fall.
Ben only had a light coat on, so he took shelter in one of
the ruined quarry buildings: a brick shell with empty window
frames and a half-collapsed, corrugated tin roof.
Outside everything was grey, the clouds overhead so dark
it was like a night sky. Lightning strobed, edging the clouds
with white. Rain hammered on what remained of the tin roof,
and Ben backed away into its shelter.
At one point, he looked up at the dark, twisting clouds,
and that must have been when it happened.
When everything changed.
The sky flickered and then the clouds seemed to bulge with
light. A fork of lightning ripped across the grey and for
an instant it was as if the sky itself was being torn apart.
Ben felt a tingle of static electricity across his skin. Heart
racing, he wondered if this was what it was like to be struck
by lightning.
Suddenly the air was sucked from his lungs and he felt powerful
forces tugging at his limbs -- like strong hands trying to
tear him apart. He twisted, fighting the pressure; he felt
as if he had been pulled off the ground and was spinning in
mid-air.
A heavy impact knocked the air from his lungs and he found
himself flat on the ground, face in the mud.
He rose to his knees, gasping for breath.
He felt sick and dizzy, his head still spinning. Where...?
He couldn't think straight.
He looked around.
The old building was no longer there. Hadn't he been sheltering
from the storm in the ruins of a quarry building?
He wiped his face with his cuff, then stood unsteadily and
brushed the dust from his clothes.
Dust.
The ground was dry.
Hadn't there been a storm?
He heard voices coming from the quarry. Men: shouting, arguing.
That wasn't right, either. The quarry had been closed for
five or six years. It was surrounded with chain-link fence
and barbed wire to keep children and dogs away from the old
workings. There were tunnels and deep pits in there and it
was easy to get lost -- or so people said. You could lose
yourself in the quarry and never be found, they said, and
so people tended to stay away from the place.
Paths popular with dog walkers and mountain bikers went past
the quarry, though. Maybe that explained the voices he could
hear.
They were louder now, and definitely angry. They were arguing:
the words were hard to make out but the violent tone was unmistakable.
Ben was still shaken by the storm. He didn't know what was
going on, but he knew for certain that he didn't want to meet
the owners of these angry voices while he was in such a confused
state.
He hurried back onto the track across Barlow's Patch and
soon the quarry was far behind.
~
He must have taken the wrong turning. That would explain
it.
That would explain why the allotments weren't there any more,
and why the new houses on Campernell Close had been replaced
by a small industrial estate: a tyre and exhaust centre, a
printing company, a builders' merchants, a lorry depot.
There were dozens of paths across Barlow's Patch. They twisted
and turned and crossed each other repeatedly. It was difficult
to tell one area of scrubby grassland from another.
That must explain it: in his confused state Ben had followed
the wrong track.
He came to the road that ran along the edge of the Patch.
He crossed it and soon he came to Regent Road, just where
he had expected.
He looked along at the industrial units, puzzled.
He shrugged, and headed down Regent Road, past lines of bungalows
that were somehow familiar and strange at the same time.
He couldn't work it out. He didn't doubt that this was Kirby.
Where else could it be? He'd lived in this small town for
six years, since he and his parents had moved down from Norfolk.
If you head across Barlow's Patch from Weeley the first place
you reach is Kirby.
Maybe that lightning had actually struck Ben: maybe it had
rewired the memories in his brain, making the familiar look
strange. Maybe that was why something as simple as walking
home left him feeling so confused.
He came to the end of the road, where it met the main road
into town. According to the sign, this wasn't Regent Road
at all, but "Regency Road".
Familiar yet strange.
He shook himself, as if that would somehow clear his mind.
He followed the alleyway that formed a shortcut through to
the old market square in the town centre.
An elderly lady was coming the other way, a small white terrier
straining at the lead. As they passed in the alley, the dog
started jumping up and yapping. The woman glared at Ben as
if it was somehow his fault, then pulled her dog away.
The market square was all wrong.
The shops were the same as Ben remembered: the chemist, the
grocer's, the newsagent and two estate agents. But... the
grass and trees, the walled pond with the spitting fish fountain,
were missing. In their place was a chained-off square with
parking spaces painted onto it, some litter bins and some
kind of display board showing a tourist map of the town.
Ben leaned against the high brick wall at the end of the
alley. He pressed his forehead against the cool bricks, trying
to stop his head from spinning, trying to make sense of something
that quite clearly made no sense whatsoever.
Somewhere on his way back to town the world had changed.
Or something in Ben's head had changed.
He wasn't sure which alternative he preferred.
...end of extract
see also: more info about the
book
and
Piggies can be ordered from Amazon.
It's also be available at BOL,
WH Smith's
Internet Bookshop and other online booksellers, and all
decent bookshops - just look out for the blood bag!
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