Witt

By Gerry Chadwick

Witt leaves home to find a better, less boring  life. Follow his travels south in post apocalyptic England as he travels in search of adventure and finds it in various forms. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookRix
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9783748759287

Book preview

Witt

Witt

A Novel

By

Gerry Chadwick

Part One: The River

1

Flopping down on the riverbank he shook off his backpack and sighed. He could just make out the ferry he’d missed in the distance, it was just over halfway across. Snatching up a small stone he threw it after the fading ferry. As the ripples were swallowed up by the passing water he lay back and put his hands behind is head.

Looking up at the darkening sky he realised that he would have to find somewhere to eat and sleep nearby, then be back here at first light to catch the morning ferry across the wide river. He wondered what was happening back home, they must’ve missed him by now, could no longer put the time he’d been away down to one of his Dream walks as his Grandfather called it when he went off to explore or just think about things.

Casting these thoughts aside he sat up and looked around, no point staying by the river, he would be out under the stars tonight and didn’t want to end up covered in dew and dampness if he could help it and that was guaranteed if he stayed near the river. Standing, he gazed out over the water again, the ferry was no longer in sight as it had rounded the small island on the south side and by now would be pulling into its moorings there for the night.

Bending to pick up his pack he noticed a glimmer of light in the distance, peering more closely he focused on the source. The old tower on the south bank was catching the rays of the setting sun, red and orange light reflected off its high beams, some of the ancient metal lines criss-crossed its rusty surface giving the aged towers a webbed look.

Witt had seen the north tower up close; it had taken him a while to make that trip and he’d suffered his Grandfather’s anger for being away so long, but it had been worth it. He smiled and wondered how angry his Grandfather would be this time.

The old tower had been an incredible sight. He didn’t get too close because debris fell from the old construction all the time, some said that one day they would collapse completely. They also said that they had once held up a mighty bridge that spanned the whole river, others that they were the remains of lookout towers that were built to guard the river from invaders.

Witt could see the merits of both arguments, amazing as they were, he didn’t see how either feat could be achieved though. Then again, the old world engineers could do many things that would seem almost miraculous today. With a sigh he tore his eyes from the tower and shouldered his pack. Setting off back down the path he had run down to get there he moved away from the river and set off in search of a suitable, and hopefully dry, place to spend the night.

Heading back up the lane he remembered that there was a small barn or some sort of out building just off to his right, that would do for the night. Plus, it was close enough to get back for the ferry in the morning.

2

The sun had almost gone by the time Witt got to the barn, inside it was dark, but it was good enough for one night especially as a cool breeze was now blowing from the river. He found a couple of old hay bales in one corner of the building; this would make a reasonable bed and his pack would serve as a pillow. Pleased with the situation he removed his shoes and socks and began to inspect his feet.

Always look after your feet lad his father had told him you can’t enjoy a good walk with sore feet he added, It’ll always end up a bad walk.

It was his father who had introduced Witt to the idea of walking for pleasure, he would use the excuse of inspecting the family farm, but he and Witt both knew it was really to spend quiet, reflective time. To see the countryside and think.

Witt couldn’t remember exactly how old he was when he started to follow his father, but eventually one day his dad had turned and said.

Come on then, you can walk with me not behind. You’ve got to keep up mind and be quiet too. We’re looking and thinking and that doesn’t need words.

So, from then on Witt had walked with his father and he had continued to do it after his dad had died.

Laying back in his temporary bed Witt closed his eyes and thought about home again, they would be starting to wonder where he was, after all, it had been two days now.

3

Witt dreamed that night, of the home he’d left two days before, creeping downstairs in the darkness just before dawn. The family farm had become too small for him, too ordinary, too dull. He wanted to travel and see other places, other people. He had to leave or he would go crazy.

He dreamed of the walk he had taken after his father died, he had gone a lot further than ever before and taken a lot longer about it too. Grandfather and the rest of his family had given him a lot of slack, even though he must have tried their patience. He heard his grandfather explain to his brothers once.

He’s still young and that’s a tough time to lose your father, you are both older and can cope better, you’re adults, he needs time. Don’t worry, he’ll grow out of it.

But Witt knew different, he wasn’t growing out of it, he was growing into it. By the time he was sixteen he was staying away overnight, making journeys that lasted two or three days. That was how he’d learned about the river, the ferry and the towers. And that was how he had found the picture card!

Witt stirred slightly in his sleep, murmuring quietly to himself. What he said wasn’t clear but it was something to do with the picture on the card and how he had found it.

4

He had started out that morning with the intention of making this a long trip, his backpack contained plenty of food and water and a bedroll because he knew he would be sleeping outside for the next couple of nights. However, his grandfather had said that they were in for fair weather for the next few days and he was never wrong.

Travelling across country he avoided other locals, the last thing he wanted was a long, drawn out conversation about the weather, or crops, or sheep, the main topics of conversation in these parts. He was on a mission that day, to get as close to the northern tower as he could, he didn’t want any delays.

A few hours later he had stopped to rest and munch on an apple whilst taking in his surroundings, he was getting nearer to the road that headed south and this was his next aim because he knew that it would lead him to the tower. Taking a long drink and adjusting his pack he set off once more.

Crossing the field, under the gaze of some wary sheep, he climbed over the fence and joined the south road as it swept through the countryside in a great bend from the east

Looking down at his shadow he realised it was already past noon so he increased his pace, he wanted to get near to the tower at sunset and see the river as the setting sun coloured its surface

He made good time on the road; its level surface made walking easy. A couple of carts passed him heading north to the larger village where the market would be held tomorrow and Witt waved at the drivers as their horses steadily pulled the load. After a while traffic ceased and he knew he must be nearing his goal. Finally, the main route turned off to the right, to end at the river where a ferry took passengers and carts alike across to the south side of the river

This part of the old disused road was more overgrown, but he strode on, hardly slowing at all. His excitement grew as he approached the ruin of a building to the left, it must have been a large building at one time, but now little of it remained. More than most old abandoned buildings though, most had either burned down or had their building material scavenged and reused, Witt knew that very little was left of the city that had once stood on the riverside to the east of where he was, he had tried to get there once but had given up after his path was blocked by a an impenetrable blockade of rubble and undergrowth. Here and there a few ruins had been visible, but he had decided not to proceed, it was too dangerous.

This building held some interest though and he decided that after viewing the tower he would explore it more closely. Witt moved on a little more slowly now, the overgrown road surface was full of holes and newly sprouting trees and bushes, it would eventually come to a dead end at the river, his destination.

Witt awoke and was initially confused by his surroundings; he rubbed sleep from his eyes. It was still early, although the birds were beginning to stir outside, but he needed an early start to get back to the ferry for its first southern crossing of the day.

After a simple breakfast he set off back down the previous evening’s route, the sun was climbing into a perfect blue sky and the birds were reaching the crescendo of their dawn chorus. As he reached the boarding point for the ferry, he could see it approaching, about two thirds of its journey was complete. Sitting on the low wall to wait, his thoughts drifted back to his dream of the previous night and he began to remember when he had followed the overgrown road to its end near the tower.

5

Witt had fought his way through the overgrown end of the road and then he suddenly broke through into an open area. Huge, grooved monoliths broke through the ground and pointed skywards, a few weeds and some sparse grass grew underfoot but he could easily make out the black, smooth surface of the road.

Just ahead the road ended, crumbling and falling into the river below. Witt stood as near to the edge as he dared, below he could see the river and its northern bank, then his eyes were drawn towards the huge stone and metal construction standing in front of him just offshore. This was the north tower.

The impressive structure rose from its base in the river, rust scarring its surface; the slowly setting summer sun reddened it further. One of its cross beams had begun to break loose from the upright and remnants of cables hung about it like a veil, a wavering shadow rippled on the water. In the distance the south tower cut an equally imposing image against the country backdrop of the distant riverbank.

Witt gaped, a seagull floated above the scene before wheeling away towards the river’s estuary and the sea, it was astonishing. He knew so many tales about the towers told by his father, grandfather and other members of the community, but whatever the truth about these constructions the stories could not compare with the reality he was experiencing.

After a while he realised, he was starting to lose the light so, reluctantly, he turned and headed back to the ruin he had discovered earlier that day. If he stayed there overnight, he could come back in the morning and view the towers at dawn, wouldn’t that be something to share with his friends later in the week.

By the time he reached the ruined building the sun had all but gone, however, it being early summer, the sky clear and a virtual full moon already in the sky, Witt’s eyes became accustomed to the gloom quickly and he could move around with relative ease.

Approaching from the road he was able to see that one entire wall was still standing along with part of the back of the building and some of the roof. Witt’s brown eyes narrowed and a slight smile touched his young face, for its age the building had lasted well, again, he told himself, because it was well off the beaten track. The rusty remains of a stairway led up to what was left of the roof and noticed that there were no windows in the wall, but there was a door.

Witt knew from experience exploring other buildings that the door was most likely blocked or jammed up by now, but no matter, he would skirt around the front of the building and gain entry through the hole where the wall had collapsed. Finding no great challenge in this he made his way into the ruin itself, inside it was pretty gloomy but the floor in the area with a roof was fairly clear of debris and it was here that Witt unpacked his bedroll, ate some of the food he had brought and drank some water before he lay down and quickly fell into a deep sleep brought on by the days activity.

6

Oy!

Witt was startled from his reverie by a voice from the ferry.

Catch this then! the voice continued and a coiled rope was thrown towards him. He jumped up and clumsily caught the damp coil.

Right, now pull the voice from the ferry came again while I cut the engine

Witt got a good grip on the rope and leaned back, getting a good footing he held fast as the ferryman busily moved to the back of the craft to silence the sputtering engine and the ran to the front again to lower a ramp onto the bank to connect with the road there, the ferry bottom scraped gently against the shore. As the ramp touched shore he nimbly ran down it with another rope.

Hitch the rope around that bollard lad, quick as you can so we can unload he called whilst leaping off the ferry to attach the other rope to a twin bollard on the opposite side of the ramp. Witt spotted the post he referred to and coiled the rope around it a couple of times before pulling it tight and tying it off, the rope slipped snugly into the worn grooves on the posts well-used surface. The ferryman trotted over and inspected his work.

Aye he admitted Not bad, you done this before?

Not with a ferry Witt replied, But plenty of times with a horse and cart the ferryman nodded approvingly.

Best get out the way now though, else you’ll be under a horse and cart he pointed to the flat bed of the ferry where two carts were poised to disembark.

Witt moved to one side and retrieved his pack as the two carts and a couple of foot passengers left the boat, a new voice called from the bank.

Hey! Wait up! Witt turned and saw that another cart was approaching along the riverside road from the west

No worry called the ferryman, Only just got ‘ere meself, you’ve got time The carts driver waved and slowed his horse to allow the two disembarking drivers to pass

Looks like you’re the only foot passenger lad the ferryman said to Witt Tell you what, dump your bag at the back and give us a hand with the ropes and stuff and I’ll cut your fare to a two pennies instead of three, ‘ow’s that sound?

Great! Witt replied, he had little money as it was so any saving was a boon. He ran up the ramp as the ferryman walked over to the waiting cart and its driver, dropped his pack and ran back again.

Righto! called the ferryman, let’s get her on then.

Gradually the horse and cart moved along the ramp and onto the ferry, the horse was a little unsure as its hooves hit the wood of the ramp and the deck of the ferry but with encouragement from the driver it was soon in place on the flat centre deck.

Now lad, the ferryman pointed at the post Witt had tied off to, I’ll take your fare now, then you man your rope again. When I’ve loosened mine and run up the ramp, you do yours and get up the ramp sharpish like. Got it? Witt nodded eagerly and handed over his two pennies.

When yer on he continued, help the cart driver pull the ramp up, I’ll have the engine going by then and we’ll be off. No one else to pick up here he gestured towards the now empty road But I do know that there’s at least at least two more carts and a foot passenger waiting over the other side so let’s get over there and get ‘em With that he turned and walked to the post, then he unfastened his rope and coiled it as he ran up the ramp.

Right lad! he called. Witt untied his rope and copied the ferryman’s actions. At the top of the ramp he threw the coil of rope aside and joined the cart driver in pulling up the ramp.

As he did this, he became aware of a noise at the end of the ferry, then, after he had tied of the ramp rope, he turned to look at the rear of the craft where the ferryman now stood. He was holding a long handle which he had pushed over to the left; this entered the water just behind the boat. As the craft slowly moved away from the bank he reached back and twisted a hand grip sticking up from the rear of the ferry, then he pushed the handle to the right. A rumbling noise increased slightly in volume and the ferry slowly moved forward and turned slowly and gracefully away from the bank, after a few seconds the craft was travelling slowly towards the other side of the river. Witt stared in amazement at the rumbling smoking object behind the ferryman’s legs, it was an engine, he had never seen one before and it held him transfixed. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

Yes son chuckled the cart driver, I felt like you did a while ago when I started using this route he pointed to the machine that thing gets this ferry across the river in less than half the time rowing or hauling would, it’s amazing Witt was still open mouthed as the cart driver continued. Anyroad, it still takes the best part of an hour to cross so you might as well make yourself comfy, no doubt we’ll be lowering the ramp on the other side.

He moved to the shady side of the vessel into the shadow created by his cart and sat on the deck leaning against the wheel, he closed his eyes and dropped his head to his chest, crossing his hands on his fairly copious stomach.

Witt positioned himself on the outside edge of the craft where he could see the retreating bank but also where he would be able to see both towers as they travelled across the slowly moving water. Later he thought he would also see if the ferryman would let him have a closer look at the all too fascinating engine, he hoped so.

As he gazed back at the northern bank Witt sighed, would he ever come back here again?

He shrugged to himself, who knew? What he did know was that he had to go south and the drive to leave had come to him that morning near the tower when he had found the prized possession now carefully hidden in his pack.

7

He had woken early that morning, the coming