They meandered about the hills and through the heart of Sherriff Wood.
Sometimes she'd follow them for as long as she could but they never lead anywhere.
Eventually she began to map them out, measuring and mapping whole sections at a time.
There was no logic to them, they'd just cut off and reappear at random intervals.
There was nothing about these walkways online or in local history book.
It was like they didn't exist.
She decided to make it her mission to document every path.
Someone somewhere was bound to know what these were and where they came from.
The latest area crossed through part of Sherriff Wood to the western edge along an unnamed road.
She knew it was around the Hope Valley area but without a map she was relying on GPS.
Specifically her phone's GPS which was buggy to begin with, let alone in an area with little signal.
The wooden slats here looked particularly old, grass sprouting through most of them.
Some parts of the pathway had been entirely consumed by grass and weeds.
She walked beside these ones, not wanting to break the fragile looking walkway.
As it progressed further into the woods it got sturdier, probably because it was more sheltered here,
she reasoned as she stepped back onto the slats and continued deeper into the trees.
A brief glance at her phone told her she was nearing the middle of the woods already.
Strange, it felt like she'd only been walking for a few minutes and yet she'd gone so far.
Ten more minutes, she thought, ten more and I'll take a break for a while.
Just as she began to think of where she would sit down the path grew steeper.
It grew to steep she was almost crawling up it as it extended towards the treetops.
How could no one have noticed these paths if they were so complex in structure?
It took a lot of careful manoeuvring to get to the top without sliding back down.
The mossy growths along the wood had made it incredibly slippery in places.
It did even off eventually, into a fairly large plateau with several pathways joining it.
She was too busy staring at the view around her to notice that she wasn't alone.
She'd never taken notice of the figures that sometimes walked the paths near her.
Most of the time she only caught glimpses of them out of the corners of her eyes.
Dismissed them too, as mist or trees or her imagination.
They'd been following her every step, waiting just outside of her sight.
Their gaunt faces ever patiently waiting until she was too isolated to escape.
The pathways were theirs, always had been and always would be.
It wasn't like she was the first, the others had been handled just the same as she would be.
How could they let outsiders stroll along them so carefree, had they no respect?
They would have to teach it to her.
Months after she entered the forest her clothing and rucksack were found along the B6001 roadside.
There was no trace of foul play, nothing on her phone to indicate where she'd gone.
Strange though, someone had stuffed her rucksack full of red leaves with letters on them.
They would never find her body on the platform, covered from head to toe in similar leaves.
They would never find the paths she took or the maps she drew.
But someone else would find those walkways and join her.
There's always room for more high up in those trees.
Who looks up any more?
Nobody.
No comments:
Post a Comment