It was when he was driving back to the village that April Sunday that John noticed Colin the librarian stood in the field.
He was just standing there staring out from the fold in the land towards the road and directly at John.
As he drove further on John saw a large hare sat in front of Colin and it appeared in the rear view mirror that they were talking.
"I saw you in the field yesterday Colin" said John as he got out two thrillers from the village library.
"You must be mistaken John. I was at home asleep most of the day nursing the remains of a cold. It must have been someone else"
John wasn't convinced but left it alone. Colin date-stamped his books and he walked out of the building, only to see in the corner of his eye that same large brown hare.
It was sat by the back door of the library as if Waiting for someone and licking its paw.
"This is really strange!" Thought John and told his wife Anthea about it whilst they were making potatoe fritters for lunch.
He forgot about it until he attended a talk in the library assembly hall. It was about the Black Death in the area hundreds of years ago and given by a local history buff.
A drawing was put up on the projector screen of a man dressed in a bird mask and a long black coat stood in the middle of a field. Beside him was a hare.
John felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
It could have been Colin he was looking at, in a drawing from five hundred years ago!
Over a glass of wine later on Anthea told him to be rational. It was pure coincidence and his mind was simply adding up twos and making fives.
John struggled to concentrate at work over the next few weeks. He was co-editor of a publishing house and a new history book needed urgently trimming down.
Skimming the pages he stopped suddenly on an old reference to plague doctors.
"Neithere doktor nor deacone, it is said the talle robed bird-men bring maladie, spread rancid venom and commune with foule Lucifer hymself guised in the forme of the leveret, the two freynds switching at will"
"Good Lord!" Blurted John.
He immediately googled plague doctors and felt a shiver run up his spine. Far from being innocent physics dressed in cloaks, these dreadful beaked creatures were said to be the missionaries of Satan himself and the heralds of Hell on Earth.
This should have frightened John enough to forget that he ever saw Colin in the field but he couldn't and decided to visit the library again on Saturday morning.
The place was bustling with silver surfers on PCs and book lenders like him.
John sat with a coffee in the quiet area and pretending to read the weekend papers he watched Colin like a hawk.
He was indeed a tall man and his nose was actually rather pronounced, but other than that he was a perfectly normal elderly chap who worked at the library.
"Good morning Colin. I enjoyed the talk so much the other night, I was wondering, do you have any books on the Black Death?"
Colin looked at John, smiled and tapped the two words into his PC.
"There is one book John but I'm afraid it's out. As a matter of fact it's me that has it. I'm finishing my shift any minute if you'd like to bob home with me. I've read it cover to cover, so it's no bother to give it you. I'll bring a stamp and stamp it"
"That's very kind Colin. Are you sure it's no trouble?"
"None at all. Just let me get my coat"
Colin went to the rear of the shadowy hallway, where his coat was hung. John could hear Colin muttering and realized that he was bent down talking to someone at the back door.
It was that hare!
"We have the first house where it will all begin again"
John couldn't work out what on earth this meant but the cold fingers of fear began to tighten.
The animal had turned and sprinted off at speed. Colin put on his coat, a long jet black robe and placed a black hat over his thinning hair.
"Shall we?"
The two men walked slowly down the lane, passed the fields and rough medieval stone.
"This is where the villagers left their coins in vinegar during the Great Plague in return for food from outsiders. Did you know that John?"
"No, I didn't"
"And the sloping fields behind my house were where the thousands of plague victims were unceremoniously buried. There were so many they just pitchforked them in the mass graves like rotting turnips. As the land swelled the bodies were burnt on huge fires too. The stench was unbearable and the black smoke made the villagers wretch"
"You talk as if you were there Colin! You ought to write a book yourself"
Colin smiled at John, who felt the beginnings of real unease in the presence of this uncanny man.
They entered Colin's cottage and the promised book was stamped and handed over.
"Would you like some tea John? You seem out of sorts. I make a special diuretic from the plants of the hedgerow. It will calm you"
"No thank you Colin. I'd best be getting back. Anthea will be wondering where I've got to"
"Another time then"
John was about to leave when he noticed a sack near the door, which was labelled horse carrots.
"Do you own a horse Colin? I'm looking at all those carrots"
"Oh, no, no horse. I feed the wild hares in the fields by the house. They even come to the door. They're my friends"
John stared at the librarian and made his way home.
A growing sense of uneasiness crept over John. Who was Colin really? What did he mean by having the first house where it will begin?
Rounding the corner to his street he flicked open the book he'd been given and stared in absolute horror at the stamp.
Rather than a date it was a single word in capitals and had been repeatedly, frenziedly stamped all over the inside cover.
OVERDUE, OVERDUE, OVERDUE!
At that moment a fat furry mammal ran out of his front garden gate and pelted off towards the fields.
The hare!
John ran inside the house.
"Anthea! Anthea!"
There was no answer.
He found his wife by the open back door with a half eaten carrot in her hand. She was lead down convulsing, spewing foam from her blue lips and her face and arms were wracked with loathsome, bubbling puss-filled boils.
"Oh God, no, Anthea!"
John knelt down beside his stricken wife and spasming, she coughed a fine spray of diseased blood in his face and open mouth.
It was then he felt the first twinges of a knuckling buboe bursting through his armpit and he collapsed to the floor as the agonies of the Black Death charred his helpless flesh.
Outside, Colin and the hare looked on through the window of this first house. The man smiled and the creature licked its paw and leapt quickly over the next door's gate.
It had begun.
