house were clear enough to get me there without any further delay.
The road which I had followed for such a long distance stretched out ahead of me and cut a straight line through the centre of the village, dividing it into two roughly equal halves. I pedalled quickly into the village and felt a considerable amount of relief when there were finally little brick buildings on either side of me again instead of parched trees, dry hills and barren fields. Thankfully, unlike the city which I had left behind, the streets were quiet although they were still littered with rubbish, refuse and other remnants of the confusion and uncertainty which appeared to have spread across the nation like a bushfire.
A little way ahead of me stood a picturesque grey stone church and I remembered Samantha's instructions having told me that the road where her grandmother lived was not far from that landmark. When I had memorised the route to the village earlier in the day, I had taken the opportunity to remember the directions to and, providing that I had managed to enter the village from the right direction, I felt sure that I would have no trouble in finding the right house. I needn't have worried anyway - the village was so small that it would only take a short while to walk all the way around it.
In front of the church lay a wide village green which had quickly come to resemble more of a dust-bowl than a place on which cricket matches had once been played and cream teas served only a few weeks earlier. I rode onto the brittle grass and climbed off the bike, pleased to be able to walk for a while and to take some of the strain off my backside which was aching from miles of constant riding on the hard seat. Just past the church I could see the centre of the village proper which consisted of a collection of shops, banks and offices and from which ran little roads which were lined with dusty homes.
My satisfaction at having completed the journey to the village was tempered by the overpowering feelings of exhaustion and tiredness that had plagued and dogged me throughout the dragging day and I was keen to finish the rest of the trip as quickly as I could. Pausing at the church to orientate myself and collect my thoughts, I wiped dry my sweat covered brow and turned around to survey the darkening village. To my incredible delight and relief, I found myself standing directly opposite. Still breathing heavily, I stumbled towards the junction of the roads, leaving the now redundant bike lying on the grass for someone else to use. I gazed hopefully down the little street and could almost sense Samantha's presence there. Her grandmother lived at number seventeen and, while I struggled to work out which way the houses were numbered, I was reassured by the fact that the road was so short that, if I needed to, I could knock on every door and ask for Sam until I found the right building.
I walked along the middle of the road, relaxed and yet becoming increasingly nervous at the thought of finally being with Samantha again. I squinted through the gloom towards one of the little cottages but could not make out any numbers on the walls or door. Tired and hot, I stood on the dotted white line in the centre of the road and looked about. Imagine the irony. I thought, if I'd managed to struggle through literally hundreds of miles of unfamiliar countryside only to be unable to find a single house in a little street. The light had faded quickly and I looked about for signs of life, for someone who I could ask for help.
For reassurance, I glanced back over my shoulder, just to make sure that the road I was standing in really was. When I was younger I had heard stories of the heat in the desert causing unsuspecting travellers to see mirages and apparitions and today there had been little difference between the countryside that I had travelled through and the Sahara or Gobi. I was on the right road, however and, as I turned back to walk further along the dusty street, something happened that chilled me to the core and froze me to the spot where I stood.
The wind began suddenly to blow wildly. Slow and light for the first fraction of a second, the