Dark Patches part 1 The trailer

By Adam Patterson

What could be worse than death?
Six young people on a seven day vacation in rural England soon discover that something evil is hiding beneath the ground...
Where have all the locals gone? What are those strange dark patches upon the grass? What are those weird noises at night?
Soon their trailer will become their only hope of survival as whatever is lurking within the soil begins to claim its victims one by one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Adam Patterson
• Release date: Nov 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465934369

Adam Patterson

Adam Patterson is currently residing between England and Thailand with his wife. Being a keen writer of horror, science fiction and suspense, he is hoping to publish many more novels and short stories in the near future. Any comments, please feel free to contact me at [e-mail]

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Dark Patches

Part 1: The Trailer

By Adam Patterson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Adam Patterson

www.smashwords.com/adampatterson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and places either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.

The author would like to thank Daniel Harlow and Joe Martin for their time and effort to help make this story happen.

Chapter 1 – A long trip to nowhere

Oh, for Christ’s sake, who’s farted again? Casey Brown could not open the window any further. In fact, all the windows in the seven seated Chrysler Voyager were open to full capacity. She elected instead to poke her entire head out of the front passenger side-window to take greater gasps of air.

Salina Squires woke with a start at the sharp sound of her friend’s voice. Her brother, Dom, who sat beside her at the rear, gave her only a cursory glance before returning his eyes back to the window.

The day had started hot again, and they all set off at just past eight this morning. The five passengers sat in their seats in a variety of positions that changed as regularly as a person shifting in their sleep did. Only the driver, Doug King, remained in the one basic position, although he somehow appeared to be the most comfortable one. After just under six hours and a few stops later, they were now coming close to their destination. Conversation had burnt itself out and each person was down to the bare minimum of comments or questions as they mainly sat in self-amusement by daydreaming, fiddling or simply napping.

You’ll have your head lopped off if you lean out any further, Doug shouted above the combined noises of the speeding engine, the high octave sounds created by Van Halen’s guitar that pumped from the Chrysler’s speakers and the cool breeze, though normally placid, which whipped through the windows of the speeding vehicle. He looked at Casey with an expression that was almost but not quite blank as he held the humming steering wheel steady between his large hands – an expression that was neither reprimanding nor humorous.

Cut my head off on what, stupid? she sneered, obediently pulling her head back inside anyway. It’s on your side where the cars pass by, not mine.

Doug looked away from his fiancée – the fiancée he has promised to marry on numerous occasions: all of them drunken occasions – and faced the road again. Casey watched his face from the corners of her eyes and knew by the way he chewed his bottom lip and shook his head slightly that he was not finished yet: Doug always had the final word. So she waited.

I didn’t mean a car, stupid, he finally returned. A weak but definite smile turned a corner of Casey’s mouth – the corner facing away from Doug so he would not see, thus making things worse.

What I meant was a low branch or fence or…

What tree? she asked him with a purposely-pleasant smile upon her lips. What low branch? What close fence? What close anything?

Doug stared blankly at her for a moment before returning his eyes back to the road. She could see him looking around for a low branch or a close fence with no success. Casey turned away again and gazed idly from the passenger’s side window with a content expression. She waited again.

It’s your fuckin’ head. Don’t complain to me… His words trailed off and were lost under the sound of David Bowie’s voice that now emitted from the stereo. Another triumphant smile returned to Casey’s lips.

‘Daring’ Dave Watson leaned forward from the row of seats behind until his head came between the two at the front. Cows, he simply said.

Doug and Casey stole a questioning glance at each other before looking round at Dave. What? they simultaneously asked.

Cows, he repeated. It was the cows that farted, or 'shitted', I should say.

They returned their eyes to the road, still none the wiser.

The smell of cow shit is everywhere, Dom Squires called out in his best West Country accent from the rear seats. Salina gazed sleepily at her brother with a look of non-amusement before closing her eyes again and returning to her doze.

Phoebe Samuels, a hairdresser and the youngest of the bunch at only eighteen, sat beside Dave on the middle row and continued to say nothing as she gazed dreamily into the hillsides that rolled passed like a continuous movie backdrop.

It would take a long journey and a full six days to know each other thoroughly, meaning that they all knew of each other anyway. Some members were obviously already close: Salina and Dom were brother and sister, and Casey and Doug were engaged to be married. Dave was a good friend of Dom and his sister, but did not know Doug and his girlfriend well. Today was the first time he met Phoebe, a close pal of Salina (who was hoping to pair them up together). Salina was also a long-term friend of Casey, an old school pal since the days she played with rag dolls and wet her knickers when the teacher shouted.

Although the six travellers appeared on the surface to be a bunch of disgruntled individuals, they were all genuinely happy and eager to go. Work had finished for a week and holiday time had begun. ‘Somewhere in the West Country’ was where Doug described the location. Being in the West Country would be a real change from the usual long weekends away to places such as Brighton and London. But the main reason was the convenience of the trailer.

Are we there yet? Dave bellowed jokingly. Doug glanced at him in the rear-view mirror and could not help but smile.

Actually, he replied as he turned the wheel and steered the large vehicle around a tight bend in the thinning road, "we are almost there, yet."

Dave returned his eyes to the side window and allowed a beaming smile to cross his face. The passing scenery reflected off his glasses, the burning sun gleaming from its thin metal rim like sparkles as the passing trees created a stroboscopic effect. Just the knowledge that he would soon be out of this sweaty seat would be enough to make this a very good day. They were scheduled to leave well before midnight the previous day to avoid the summertime traffic made mainly of holidaymakers and day-trippers such as themselves, but their plans changed due to an unexpected problem with the Chrysler’s immobiliser. Fortunately, and unexplainably, the problem appeared to have solved itself overnight.

A dip in the road caused the vehicle to jolt suddenly, snapping Salina from her doze again. Her dark brown eyes snapped open and her left arm lashed out involuntarily, swiping her brother’s shoulder. He turned to her, shifting in his seat. What’s matter? he asked.

Sorry… nothing… she muttered sleepily, and she was just about to shut her eyes again when the familiarity of the surroundings caught her attention. Her vision cleared and her mind instantly freshened. That strangely shaped rock… the large, rambling farmhouse – she was amazed it was still standing – and that old, wooden bridge that her father used to tease her about when she was young by saying that it would collapse when he drove across… all were still here. Nothing seems to change in these parts. Even her uncle’s trailer never seemed to change over the years; never looked older or different. Coming here was like her personal way of stepping back into time – times that she kept dear in her memories. Even though she is only nineteen years of age, the death of her father and the conversion of a loving, decent mother into a devoted alcoholic was, to her, the end of the good times. If it were not for Dom’s support then she would surely have gone out of her mind by now.

About here, yeah? Doug’s voice bellowed above the music.

Yeah, yeah! Only a little longer… about five minutes, or less, Dom replied eagerly.

Salina could not help but release a large grin that had not surfaced for as long as she could remember. With her spirits now rising, the troubles of her life seemed to be draining away on each mile passed like sand slipping through an hourglass. Yes, it was like going back into the past, but this time her good friends had replaced her mother and father. And Dom is still here, of course. She yawned and swept strands of her dark hair from her clammy forehead.

Now the Chrysler began to slow as it turned another tight bend in the road, passing a large plywood board propped against a tree bearing the words:

COUNTRY FAYRE AT

SPELLING’S FARM

FOOD – DRINK – LARGE MARKET

SAT 15TH

Casey craned her neck to read the board as they trundled slowly by. The thought of food and drink, especially locally brewed beer, made her stomach rumble and her mouth water even though she had been snacking on crisps, candy and canned drinks since leaving her house this morning. Although she was reasonably slim, her bad habits for eating junk food were starting to take its toll on her once shapely tummy.

A large, flat, grassy field to their left soon came into view and the vehicle came to a near stop. Doug twisted in his seat and called out to Dom again. This it, or what?

Yeah, mate, he shouted back. Just turn into here and drive down it. You’ll see it at the back.

The Chrysler lurched forward onto the grass and bumped and shuddered across the uneven terrain.

Yeah, just drive on down here, Dom continued and then pointed to the silent hulk of the trailer sitting at one end of the field. There… you can’t miss it!"

Salina saw the trailer coming ever closer, smiled and then suddenly felt the urge to vomit. Her hand went immediately to her mouth as she started to retch.

You okay, sis? Her brother grasped her shoulder but she shrugged him away. The sickness rapidly subsided, dropping like a lead weight to her bowels before a cold sensation rushed through her entire body as though her blood had turned to icy water.

I’m all right, I’m okay, she assured him, nodding. Just a little car sick, that’s all. Thank God we’re here. That seemed to satisfy Dom and he returned his attention back to their destination as the Chrysler slowed to a stop. Salina shut her eyes until her rapidly beating heart returned to near normal speed again. When she reopened them, the sight of her beloved trailer did nothing to lift her from the coldness that kept creeping up and down her spine.

Were gonna stay in your trailer! Dave Watson declared excitedly in his hopeless American accent.

What’s that? Dom mumbled.

It’s what they call caravans in the U.S. Didn’t you know? By now, Dave’s head was swivelling briskly from side to side upon his slender neck, making him appear like some curious meerkat. His wide eyes, emphasized by his glasses, caught sight of the shabby-looking trailer and his face dropped like a stone in deep water.

Is this it? he asked with his usual trademark undertones of sarcasm. It’s in the middle of bloody nowhere!

Chapter 2 – The caravan

It’s something out of the museum, ain't it? Dave called to no one in particular as he pulled his holdall from the back of the vehicle. He dropped it carelessly to the dry, grassy earth, removed his glasses and wiped the sweat from his face and forehead.

Looking around he realized that he was alone out here. The mixture of laughter and general chitchat with raised, excited voices spilled from the open doorway of the trailer. Their entire luggage was now clear of the Chrysler, which now stood peacefully under the sun with its hot, ticking engine releasing its heat into the already warm day. He could almost hear it sigh with relief after its long journey beneath the relentless blaze of June’s summer.

Dave Watson was referring to the age of the six-berth trailer, which, after his first impression, dismissed it as a dinosaur of the mobile home kingdom. He now turned to face the trailer again and studied his new abode for the next few days with more attention. It sat upon a thick crust of weatherworn concrete, forever stained with its hulking shadow. Its metallic body was, to his tastes at least, an offensive dark brown and coffee-cream colour with the darker of the two colours decorating the top half of the trailer and the door. Patches of discolouration through many years of exposure to the elements and small spots of corrosion could be seen dotted here and there across the metallic walls. He could clearly see that it could easily accommodate six people, but the thought of sleeping at close proximity to persons he had not even met until today filled him with distaste. Well, he thought somewhat positively, hopefully the wonders of alcohol can sort that out. In fact, I should be so pissed that I won't give a flying fuck.

Anyway, anything was an improvement from staying in the same house as his henpecking mother, and at the age of twenty-eight, he felt it was long time he was gone.

A long spell in Guantanamo Bay detention camp would be an improvement, he retorted dully to himself as he slammed the vehicle's door shut. Picking up his holdall again, he strolled leisurely towards the trailer, cursing under his breath as to why that muscle-bound idiot did not park closer to it. It was at least thirty feet away, and knowing that they had to unload their cases and there was nothing to stop him from parking nearer, Dave began to wonder if there was any sense at all in his thick skull.

I could’ve parked better than that and I can’t even drive, he muttered as he neared the open doorway that appeared like a small gaping chasm in a strange metallic cave. He decided he would mention that to him in person as he climbed the three crudely made, concrete blocks steps before stepping hesitantly inside to join the other members of the outing.

Phoebe Samuels supposed that the trailer, even though a bit decrepit and smelling of something mixed between old plastic and mildew, would do just fine for their few days away in sunny Devon. Here she could get pissed, get stoned and behave her age, which, in her eyes, was behaving like a party animal. The fact that Dave Watson was not a hunk with film star muscles and did not have a rough, rogue-like appearance was enough to put a slight downer on her week away. By his actions and almost camp-like comments and mannerisms, Phoebe strongly questioned his sexuality. Dave was maybe a good friend of Salina – and probably a really nice guy – but her idea of hoping to pair them together was beyond her understanding. Anyway, what were pubs and clubs good for other than drinking in? She knew she was a good-looking girl, and with her luscious dark hair and piercing green eyes, she was not far from beautiful. Plus she had never come across an unsuccessful night out on the pull to date.

It’s so damn hot in here, she moaned as she loitered casually about her new temporal accommodation, opening empty cupboards and fiddling with no interest with the numerous ornaments collected over the many years from fun days away. She brushed a thin layer of dust from a large ashtray that had a fading coloured picture of a tiger at its thick glass base. The big cat seemed to stare back at her with more wearied than menacing yellow eyes. She placed it back upon the small breakfast table that protruded from one side of the trailer.

"It’s fucking roasting and stuffy," she stressed, turning to the nearest body to her, which happened to be Salina. She also turned to face her, eyeing her up and down with slight irritation before stepping away.

Well, the reason may be because this place has been shut-up for months on end and its metal walls has been sitting in the direct sunlight all day, Salina snapped. Just help out and open a few windows instead of fiddling with things.

Phoebe sneered at her turned back and slumped down on one of the two benches that sandwiched the breakfast table with its peeling Formica edging. A small puff of dust gusted up from the cushioned seat as her light bodyweight pressed upon it. It had an aroma of stale cigarettes from years past and fried food. Her nose wrinkled momentarily before sneezing twice.

Everyone heard Doug and Casey’s laughter coming from the master bedroom situated at the far end. They were obviously unpacking their clothes (and probably unpacking the ones they were already wearing by the way they were giggling, Phoebe imagined with an undertone of envy). Now he was more her type with his big muscles and surfer-boy blonde hair.

I bet he never holds back in the bedroom department, she inaudibly muttered as she sat and watched Salina and her brother fuss around this oversized tin can, switching on appliances and opening windows and running the hose across the shower. She wondered where in hell they get their services from in a place as far-out in the sticks as this. She pondered on this a little longer and remembered: from their uncle’s house across the field. They were all to take a little hike up there sometime today to say ‘hi!’

Dave appeared at the doorway looking slightly bemused. She could see from where he stood that his eyes were blinking rapidly, darting back and forth and up and down as they curiously searched the interior whilst his head remained dead still. A little time later, his face brightened and he stepped fully inside the mobile home with a peculiar, bouncy hop.

Quite surprised it looks better inside than out, he casually commented as he swung his holdall by its handle and sent it sliding to the far end of the trailer as though it was a bowling ball. It collided with the back seat with a soft thump before settling next to a collection of other luggage. His eyes caught Phoebe’s for a moment and they both looked awkwardly at each other. Phoebe gave him a smile that felt as right on her face as a handlebar moustache.

Dave’s nose also wrinkled, but this time he declined to comment any further. He stepped over to a door next to the smaller bedroom containing the bunk bed and turned its handle. It made a loud ‘click’ when it opened to reveal a basic looking, slightly worn toilet. Again, Dave restrained from saying anything, although his face told a story enough on its own.

Salina stood with hands on hips as she continued to watch her friend’s progress within her beloved trailer. Glad it’s sort-of to your approval, sir, she called to him with a hint of irritation. Either not hearing her or choosing to ignore her, Dave continued on his little nose-around.

Look, we have all the mod cons, she pressed further, turning the cold-water faucet over the kitchen sink on fully. At first, there was only a tugging sound from the pipe work below followed by an air-block gurgle. Then an explosion of cool water erupted in a sudden torrent, spraying the bare flesh of her arms. There, she said after a little surprised gasp. We have flowing water. Holding out her hand, she then gestured at the dark screen of the T.V sitting in the lounge area. We also have electricity. Her hand then went towards the bathroom. We also have showering facilities. Is this all to your liking, sir?

Dave finally glanced back at her and gave her his usual boyish grin that never failed to suppress any differences of any degree between them. Salina rolled her eyes at him and looked away, her face finally melting into a wide smile. Her lips soon dropped when she heard him lighting a cigarette.

Not in here, please, Dave, Salina snapped, causing both Dom and Phoebe to look round. Only Dave turned slowly towards her, his own face wearing a look of gob-smacked surprise. The cigarette he now guiltily held in his hand emitted a gentle twist of smoke into the stuffy air. His face then contorted into an expression that told her: why not? This caravan has the look of the inside of an ashtray, anyway.

Before he could tell her what his face already said, and the sheer fact that not one mouth was a virgin to a cigarette during their trip in the Chrysler, Salina explained that she just wanted to 'freshen the air' before the night's drinking and smoking began. Dave, with no further word, obediently walked to the open doorway and stepped out into the relentless heat of the sun to continue his cigarette.

The giggling behind bedroom door suddenly stopped.