"Ah, you truly do have fine taste. The peaches were grown by these very hands." He showed me his pink, meaty hands. Spotless, of course. "I have a fine garden with all manner of produce, and the peaches are so juicy. But the day is wearing on, custom is slow because of the outage, so I will do you a deal if you take the rest. I normally have a customer for these peaches, but he hasn't come today and I don't want them to go to waste. I will sell you them all for a great price."

  "That's a lot of peaches."

  "But for a great price." He nodded his head, keen to get them gone so they wouldn't spoil.

  "Okay, hit me."

  He gave me the price, and it was fair and not too extortionate, so I agreed. He packaged everything up expertly then took my details. Poor guy was probably having a nightmare without being able to take payment, and my guess was it would be the same everywhere. Everyone would just hunker down at home unless they were desperate, and wait this out.

  I nodded my thanks and made to leave.

  "My friend, do you think things will ever return to how they were?"

  "Honestly? No, I don't. I think long term, they will be better, but also worse. We don't have our freedom. I don't know that we ever will like we used to. But maybe the cost is worth paying if it means we tread a little lighter."

  "Yes, maybe. Well, enjoy the peaches." He waved me off and I got assaulted by the buzzer as I left.

  Right, what was the plan? It was strange having the option of driving. I decided to keep going for a while until I found a nice spot, sleep out for the night, then get my note completed the following day. I knew better than to try to rush it.

  I had to get my head in the right place, which meant sleeping rough and getting back to basics with a nice fire, a long smoke, and some crap wine. It was what I'd done for centuries, and so far it had worked, so I saw no need to make a change now. And besides, apart from the knot in my stomach, I enjoyed this time alone.

  The chance to reflect and have no responsibilities, to be free of all I held dear because it made me value it so much more. This quiet time made me enter the right headspace to ensure I would do whatever it took to return home.

  I smiled as I sat in the car, wondering what my two special ladies were doing. I hoped they missed me as much as I missed them. They did, and I would see them soon. I promised myself that. I'd make it home, and nothing could stop me.

  With my food taunting me from the passenger seat, and the sweet smell of peaches filling the interior, I started the car but just sat there, as if waiting for something. I felt isolated, cocooned in my cool shell, distant from the sounds and smells of the world. I wasn't sure I liked it one little bit. Too much comfort wasn't good for my head. I needed struggle. To get dirty, down in the fields, wading sickly streams, not lording it up in this bubble. I laughed. What was wrong with me? I should go with it. This wouldn't last, so I should make the most of it.

  As I pulled away, a car tore up the street. The driver skidded to a halt then was out the door of his snazzy Tesla almost before it stopped moving. He ran to the shop and entered, slamming the door open, putting his hands all over the glass. Guess the dick really needed milk, or maybe toilet paper.

  I pulled off and headed onto the open road.

  There wasn't another car in sight. I passed a few trucks, and once onto the A5 I took a steady sixty-five and cruised past several of the giant, multi-trailered behemoths delivering to the ubermarkets. I wondered how the systems were coping without any means of keeping track of stock levels and how they were handling payment. Best steer clear of those places until this all got sorted out.

  Soon, I settled into a dreamy state where the world whizzed by and I drove without conscious effort, just letting my mind drift whilst maintaining my speed and not having to focus too much on it. It was almost a meditation.

  The car juddered and I was snapped back to the present. I glanced in the rearview as the car shunted forward, only to find a car flashing its lights and honking as it revved up and slammed into the rear again. I gripped the steering wheel tight and eased up on the accelerator as I fought to maintain control. What the fuck was this prick playing at? I glanced back again and recognized the car. The man from the shop. The one in a hurry.

  He came at me again, so I swerved over to the other lane, hoping he'd got whatever this was out of his system and he'd pass me by. He didn't. He slowed, then changed lanes and sped up, coming straight at me again.

  Confused as hell, as who does this, I switched lanes again then slowed right down so he was far ahead. Should I stop? Did he want to fight me? I didn't know the guy, but that didn't mean he wasn't someone from my past. Another Necro maybe? Just in a bad mood?

  Several other cars shot past, blaring at me for driving so slowly. I sped up a little, my head spinning, freaked out at such antics on the road. Didn't this person know it was insanity to be acting like this?

  He'd get us both killed.

  NICE CAR

  This bastard would not leave me alone. What was with him? Could I not just have this thing? Be left alone to have a nice, quiet drive before I bloodied my hands once more? Why was it always like this?

  No, it wasn't always like this, I had to remind myself. I'd driven for years without ever having a problem. Had been on the road when roads were first a thing. Even now, I could recall the massive undertaking across the country as roads slowly morphed from dirt tracks. They'd been quagmires of treacherous muddy messes where the wheels of your cart could snap, you got bogged down in the mud, and hardly a soul traveled further than their local village as why would you?

  Gradually, it evolved. Tarmac became a thing, and concrete was the norm, so real roads for the first cars crept across the landscape. Then that changed. Cars got better, there were bridges and motorways and you could sail along, hardly another vehicle on the road, waving and smiling at each other as you sped along the country at speeds seemingly impossible unless you happened to own a unicorn.

  And then the madness hit and everything became challenging. Sitting in traffic for hours, breathing the noxious fumes, stress levels rising. It felt like the minute that started, life changed once again. The strict rules on travel, then the outright ban, then the myriad complexities nobody could keep up with until we found ourselves where we currently were.

  Travel was so tightly regulated that it was next to impossible to obtain a permit. Strictly for the transport industry, the politicians, and the big, important businessmen. Everyone else had to suck it up and go buy a horse.

  And yet here I was, cocooned in a metal box, nary another soul on the road, the smell of polish, leather, and peaches a delight. And this fucker had to go and ruin it all.

  What was wrong with him?

  I slammed my foot onto the accelerator, visions swimming of me tearing off, leaving him for dust. The car spluttered and maybe picked up several more miles per hour, but it was hardly impressive.

  The Tesla tore past me then swerved into my lane and the guy's brake lights blinked a warning as he slowed dangerously. I bounced into his rear, was rocked forward until my seatbelt snapped tight, my neck whipped with an audible click, and I almost lost control as I eased on the brake so I didn't lose it completely.

  He tore off while I picked up speed again, aware there was nowhere to go, no point trying to turn around. Knowing my luck, one of the behemoths trailing multiple containers would be coming up behind me and I'd be toast. Squishy toast. And I like my toast like I like my bones. Hard, and in one piece.

  I rubbed the Christmas tree air freshener with my fingers then put them to my nose and sniffed. The unmistakable scent of chemical pine was like a hit of smelling salts and it snapped me back to the reality of the situation. That being, I was going to crash unless I did something to deal with this guy.

  But what?

  He had a better car, was undoubtedly a better driver, and seemed to have it in for me personally.

  Me? My car was a bit crap, I could never seem to get the hang of any fancy moves, and I couldn't care less about this man.

  I did the only thing I could, and kept on driving. I would wing it. My best plans were always when I had no plan at all. That way, nothing could go wrong.

  He was dawdling up ahead, waiting for me to catch up, so I eased alongside him. We sped along the road, just us, two men in their cars, seemingly rivals because one of us had an as-yet-unknown issue with the other. I pressed the button and the passenger window lowered. I pointed for him to do the same. His window came down and I shouted, "What's your problem?"

  He cupped his hand to his ear and shook his head.

  "Pull over," I mouthed, and pointed to the emergency lane.

  The grinning idiot shook his head and mouthed back, "I'm gonna fuck you up," then laughed as his widow closed and he tore off. See, the problem with these electric vehicles was there was no impressive cloud of noxious fumes. He was just gone. Silent, no drama.

  I closed my window and shrugged. Guess this would play out one of two ways. Either he'd get cocky and crash, or I'd just crash. I trundled along at fifty; no point risking anything at this point and it would conserve fuel, anyway. Gotta think of the environmental impact.

  It was at about this time I realized I hated cars and wished I had my bike. Hell, I'd even swap the car for Bernard. It felt wrong, too much of a disconnect. I wasn't out there, part of the world. I was passing it by, not immersed in the reality of existence.

  But the air con was nice. Shame there was no up-to-date sat nav. It would have been nice to discover where the roadblocks were. At least the old maps were stored on it, although I didn't know when it had last been updated.

  I drove on, ever mindful that I was playing a game of cat-and-mouse with a stranger when I had much more important things to be doing. Like having an afternoon nap, or smoking my pipe. Could I smoke in the car? Was there a way to get my pipe going whilst driving? I figured it best not to find out. Now wasn't the time for puffing. Now was the time for huffing.

  For several miles there was no sign of the car, and I wondered if he'd turned off at a slip road. No such luck. There he was up ahead, driving like a responsible citizen. Had he got it out of his system? No, of course he hadn't. I came up alongside him and glanced over. The slack-jawed fool smirked, then spun his wheel hard left and caught the driver's side door. The impact was astonishingly loud. What were these things made of, tin?

  I began to skid, and knew I could flip, so wrestled with the steering wheel, easing off the accelerator but not punching the brake as I knew enough to know that could spell disaster. I bumped onto the hard shoulder and halfway into the verge before I managed to regain control and righted the car then got back on the road, sticking to the hard shoulder as he was right there beside me. Again, he swerved and slammed into me, battering the back door this time.

  The rear tires locked out and I began to skid again, but righted fast and pressed hard on the accelerator. Once past him, I might have panicked a little, and out of instinct I slammed on the brakes. He rammed into me from behind, locking the seatbelt. I jolted forward before flooring it then braking again, hoping to force him off the road, hopefully crash and explode in a massive fireball.

  He simply swerved around me and raced off, horn blaring with glee. Fucking Teslas. How was I meant to compete with a Model S? It might have been old, but it ran like it was just out of the factory. I'd heard they could do zero to sixty in under two seconds. I couldn't even change gear that fast.

  I checked the map on the sat nav, then moved over and took the upcoming turn that wound around the slip road and followed the signs for a service station. The car park was empty, not a soul in sight. The place was closed and had been for years. No point staying open when there's nothing but the occasional horse and unicorn to cater for.

  My heart beat fast despite having been in much worse situations countless times. It was the lack of control that was doing for me. I needed to be hands-on with my fights, not hurtling along a road in a steel coffin. Stressed, and more shaken than I'd expected to be, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out. My legs were shaking as I slammed the door shut and leaned back against the car, breathing deeply to calm myself down.

  The heat hit like a bucket of warm water. Humidity was high, the sun at its zenith. Talk about a scorcher. I liked it. For once, I welcomed the ridiculous anti-British sun as it beat down mercilessly on my ancient locks. My body felt alive, my head cleared, and a calmness settled as the sun baked away the stress bubbling inside.

  The Tesla pulled up silently in the car park. The door opened and out stepped a big, solid guy wearing a cut-off t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. I think his jeans were meant to be a loose fit, but on him they hugged his muscular thighs tight. He grinned moronically at me as he squeezed out then closed the door with a nice soft clunk. His car was battered, but nothing compared to mine. I just knew it wasn't his. He'd nicked it, for sure. Not that it was an uncommon crime, as nobody would do anything about it.

  The peace I'd felt deepened. Here it was, the calm before the storm. I lowered my hand and undid the popper that kept my blade secure in its sheath. The driver followed my hand with his eyes then locked on mine and said, "What, you too much of a coward to fight me with your hands?"

  "I'm not afraid, but I want to win." I shrugged.

  "Coward. You're a fucking pussy."

  "Nope, you got that wrong, buddy. But like I said, I win my fights."

  "Chickenshit," he laughed. "You took my peaches."

  I stared at him, nonplussed. "Huh?" was the only smart thing I managed.

  "My peaches. Your type are all take. You grab what you want, don't share. Don't think about the next person. It's people like you that mean there's not enough to go round. Always stockpiling. Greedy fucks, the lot of you."

  "Look, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

  "You took my fucking peaches!" he screamed, then wiped the spittle.

  "Your head looks like a ripe peach," I told him calmly. "Why aren't you wearing a hat? You'll get burned. It only takes a few minutes. Have you got sunscreen? Did you get your quota?"

  "What?" he snapped. "What business is it of yours?" Unconsciously, he rubbed at his glowing bald head then glowered. "You people are all the same."

  "What are you going on…" Then I understood. "You mean in the shop, don't you? That shop at the last village? Um, I bought some stuff, yes. The owner said he had peaches from his orchard, so I bought them. They were a good price. He was nice. Is this what you're talking about?"

  "Like you didn't know. I came in right after you and I always buy peaches from there. And what do I find? Some greedy fuck bought the lot. No consideration for others."

  "If you want the peaches, you can have the peaches. I didn't even consider I was being greedy. The owner said he was worried they'd go to waste, seemed keen to sell the ones I bought. I thought I was helping him out."

  "Bastard."

  "Hey, I said you can have them. You try to kill me over peaches and I let that slide, even offer them to you, and you call me names? What gives?"

  "What gives? What gives?" he roared. "Everything, that's what. It's all so fucked-up. There's no phone, or internet, or anything now. Did you know that?"

  "Yeah, I know."

  "And what, you happy about that are you? One of these nutjobs who thinks we should go back to living in caves and wear fucking sandals and eat lettuce every day? Is that it?"

  "Sandals keep your feet cool in summer." I stared down at my own boots and then his even more inappropriate ones.

  "You taking the piss?"

  "Just trying to lighten the mood. I know it's rough at the moment, but we just have to stick with it, see it through."

  "I'm sick of doing that. Not allowed to go anywhere, do anything. Can't visit my parents, can't go to work as they decided they only need half the people and we can all work from home. They keep changing the money. I don't know what the fuck it is at the moment. And you gotta have a fucking recycling bottle to buy milk. Where's the bloody snacks? That's what I want to know. No choice, no nice things. And there's no cheese. Cheese! Where's the cheese at? I need cheese!"

  "My wife was saying the same thing. There is definitely a cheese conspiracy going on. I mean, if there's milk, there's cheese, right?" I winked, which looking back on it maybe I shouldn't have.

  "Are you trying to fuck with me? What's your problem, pal? You are so going to get your ass kicked."

  "Hey, come on, I was just trying to make a joke. Why are we fighting? What, would you try to kill someone over peaches? Have them. I told you. I don't want to fight you."

  "You ain't got a choice. I am sick of this crap. I want electric and I want to watch the TV and go to the cinema and have a pint down the pub and just be normal."

  "It's not normal to run people off the road in a stolen car then threaten them because they bought peaches," I told him.

  "No, I guess not. But then, these aren't normal times, are they?" He sneered, then flexed his muscles.

  "I get it. You're pissed off, want things to go back to how they were, and you're beyond frustrated. I understand all of that. But why take it out on me? I'm asking you nicely, can we just forget about this?"

  "No, we can't. Now, drop the knife and let's have us a good old fist fight." He grinned, then cracked his knuckles and stormed forward.

  I fondled the hilt of my knife. It brought comfort. It was warm and fit my hand perfectly. It would be so easy to stab him in the eye and leave him for dead. I could drag him into the bushes and let him rot away. But we would have been watched on the motorway. I was surprised there were no drones here already. Surely the police should be out? Then I realized that no, nobody would have seen. That was why he was acting like this. Because he could. Because nobody was watching. He wouldn't be in trouble because nobody saw.

 

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