2007-09-03 - lthr_jock - Breakdown Part One

Author: lthr_jock
Title: Breakdown Part One
Date: 03 September 2007

Breakdown - Part One

It's always the way, isn't it? You go out on your bike, get the furthest you're going to be from any help, and you get a puncture. That's what happened to me, and that's how I found myself in trouble.

I'm a fair weather biker - I freely admit it. But I love my R6 and I go out on it most weekends. I love the feel of it on the open roads and I admit I like the looks I get as people see me go by. The blokes look at me enviously, the women, well, I like to think that the women are admiring me in my leathers. I have to admit, they suit me - I'm just over 6ft tall, slim but muscled, shaved head and when I'm in my grey and black Hein Gericke leathers, I turn a few heads.

So, anyway, there I was - stranded. I'd taken a week off work and gone touring on the bike. Not booking anywhere in advance, just seeing where the roads took me and finding a B'n'B when I needed one. I had my mobile with me, so checked in with my girlfriend every night. I was on day four and found myself in the middle of Dartmoor. I'd had lunch at a pub in a small village called Meavy - very picturesque. Looking back on it, that's where things started to go wrong. I was sat outside in the sun, my pint and Ploughmans on the table, my lid and jacket on the seat beside me, relaxing and looking at the view.

'Mind if I join you?'

I looked up to see a guy in his mid-40's, wearing grubby work gear and carrying a pint. His hair was cropped quite short and he wore a tight cropped goatee. Although there were other tables free, I'd come across a couple of people in these country pubs who liked to chat over lunch and was quite happy for him to join me.

'Sure. I'm Rob.' I leant across the table to shake his hand.'

'Pleased to meet you, Rob, call me Dave.' With that he sat down and we started chatting. He was interested in the bike, so after a few minute, I took him over for a closer look. I have to admit I enjoyed the chat and he seemed really friendly, and when I left the pub half an hour later, I thought nothing of asking him to watch my gear while I went inside for a call of nature and to settle my bill.

When I came out, Dave was stood by the bike. He grinned as he handed the helmet across.

'Nice talking to you, Rob. Now remember, like I said, don't take the western route around Burrator, go east and divert up to Sheepstor - some great views from there.'

I nodded, shook his hand and got ready to head off. By the time I was on the road, he had already moved off in his aging Landrover and I waved as I passed him on the way out of the village. I took his advice and headed around the reservoir at Burrator and then through the little village on the way up to Sheepstor. Dave was a right - what a great view. And that's when it happened - the puncture.

Luckily I wasn't going very fast, as I heard a bang from the back tire and I immediately stopped to have a look. Whatever I'd run over had shredded the tire - no way to patch this one. I groaned and took out my mobile, only to find there was no reception here. Well, the village was only a couple of miles back, so I shouldered my backpack and started to walk, Before I'd gone more than a few yards, I saw the familiar shape of Dave's Landrover heading towards me? As he pulled up beside me, he wound down the window.

'Problem?'

'Yeah, I've got a flat and there's no mobile signal here.'

'Well, hop in and I'll take you to the farm. You can call from there.'

Gratefully, I got in the Landrover and we headed off. Dave's farm was about 5 miles further on and it would probably have been faster to go back to Sheepstor Village. However, he was good company and I have to admit that the warmth of the day and the pint at lunchtime was making me drowsy. I fell asleep and Dave had to shake me to wake me up when we pulled up outside his farmhouse. Groggily I staggered out of the Landrover, and Dave took me inside.

The inside wasn't at all what I expected. The furnishings were modern and Dave owned a great TV, stereo system and PC all of which were set up in the front room. I slumped down in a chair, while Dave went to make a cup of coffee. I asked about my bike and he assured me it would be okay. While he was in the kitchen I could hear him talking to someone and he popped his head back round the door

'I just spoke to my mate at the local garage. He'll come here for the bike keys and take your bike back down to his place if that's OK.'

'Sure, but I'd rather go with it while it's repaired.'

'Ah, problem is he hasn't got the right type of tire and he's got to have one sent out from Plymouth. Won't be here until tomorrow. Tell you what, he'll take you to where you're staying overnight.'

'That's another problem - I haven't got anywhere yet.'

'Problem solved then - you can stay here. Barry can pick the pick the keys up this afternoon and then bring it back tomorrow. How's that?'

Well it was a kind offer and I did get on well with him, so I agreed. Dave went back to the kitchen and finalized the arrangements. After he brought me the coffee, he took my bike keys and drove up to give them to his mate - he said that would save a bit of time. Left to my own devices, I supped the coffee and had a look around. He had a few magazines, CDs and DVDs, but nothing to my taste. Getting a bit bored, I turned on his PC to see if I could check my email. The start-up screen wasn't what I was expecting at all - there was a picture of two men. One was dressed in full leather and carrying chains and a collar. The other was semi-naked, kneeling on the floor and wearing some kind of leather hood. Shit! This guy was a fucking fag - no wonder he was so bloody friendly. I had to get out of there.

I jumped to my feet and my legs promptly collapsed under me. They'd gone numb and I couldn't seem to get them to move. As I tried to get them working, I felt the same numbness working its way up my torso and into my arms and hands. I yelled and yelled for help, but the numbness overcame me and I could do nothing, sprawled on the floor barely breathing.

I heard the door open and a pair of boots appeared just in front of my face.

'Finally. I thought you'd never drink the damn coffee.'

A large hand, grabbed me around the jaw and turned me so that I could see Dave bending over me.

'Welcome, Rob, to the first day of the rest of your life.'

With that, Dave pulled out a leather hood from his back pocket and slid it over my head...and I blacked out.