MID WALES

12th September 2020

I’m glad of the moonlight. The crisp, clear sky allows the beams of cool blue light to illuminate my work area without using the excavator’s halogen work lights. Not that anybody would notice. I’m enclosed by trees, at least a mile to the nearest house, but I don’t want to take the risk.

I can’t recall how deep I need to go. But my digger bucket goes down yet again, each time further into the black hole, and I cautiously feel for some bite as I draw its toothed edge back and raise it up close to the cab so I can see if I’ve uncovered anything. Still just black soil and rock. I must keep going. It’s already 1am and I need to be back home before sunrise.

My care and perseverance have paid off. I’m taut with tension and tiredness, but I’m sensing an end to my task as I place the last of the remains that I can find into the heavy-duty rubble bags. I feel sick, the putrid smell still fills my nostrils, but the worst bit is over. Like the three-hour motorcycle enduro races that I enter, I feel like I’m into the last part now. The tiredness is overwhelming, but I just need to keep going to the end. Everything is now loaded into the van, so it’s time to head for home and, on the way, find my secret spot. The hole is backfilled and, with the help of the three tonne digger, I’ve dragged a mature fallen Larch tree over the sacred area that was disturbed. Within a few days, the dying larch needles will have fallen off and hidden my presence with a warm-brown coloured blanket. 

The van coughs into life, but I have to stop myself from turning on the headlights. The bright moonlight persists, and I can see perfectly well as I drive cautiously down the long, stone-capped fire roads, majestically lined by tall Larch and Pine trees that channel my route home. The scent from the trees seems to energise me every time I come here. I love this place and can’t help but feel peace when I’m here. It’s a world in its own right. A hundred acre wood. My wood. My world.

I take the last turn and head towards the gate: the five-barred portal back to the normal world and supposed civilisation. But as I draw closer, I notice an unfamiliar shape beyond it. A dark coloured car. No, not just one, two cars. My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and I consider stopping. I need to drive out of here, but is that car blocking my path? Why is it here? Maybe it’s a local stop-off place for car-shaggers, or is that hobby called dogging now? I don’t mind. I just need to get out and get home. 

A dark shape moves quickly in my driver's side wing mirror, and then another, this time from the front of the van. Bang! My ears are ringing, and my driver’s door window explodes a hailstorm of glass into the side of my face. Instantly, a gloved hand reaches in to grab the ignition key. I slam my right elbow into the assailant’s face, but I haven’t noticed my passenger door being opened, and another dark-clothed figure climbs in. I scream and am about to punch him, and then, with some relief that I will not be killed, I recognise who it is.