by J N Wood
The loudest so far of the fireworks exploded very close to us, showering the container with multi-coloured sparks, causing everyone to flinch and duck down.
Scary Spice and Mel B were belting out their part of Wannabe.
Jack was suddenly forced to take two steps to his left, as a square hatch in the roof of the container was pushed upwards. When it was opened about six inches a metal chain was pulled taught, meaning the hatch couldn’t be opened any further. The top half of a person’s head filled the space below. Two eyes darted around, trying to look at us all.
‘Place your guns down on the roof,’ the container dweller ordered. ‘If you keep your guns, you’re not coming in. If you threaten me with the guns, you’re not coming in. If you shoot me, you’re definitely not coming in.’
Three metallic clangs rang out amongst the sound of fireworks as Gee, Michael and Shannon dropped their guns onto the roof.
Wannabe finished and Barbie Girl, by Aqua started playing.
I looked to Jack and said, ‘We need to get in this container. It might be soundproofed.’
The Rodriguez family were still staring into the zombie swarm, maybe willing Steve to stand back up.
‘No guns!’ the container man shouted.
Looking around at Jack, Michael, Shannon and Gee, I hoped one of them would tell the Rodriguez’s we had to go. It looked like nobody was willing to say anything, so I stepped forward and opened my mouth to speak. Thankfully, Ali stopped me by standing up. She dropped her gun to the roof, and said, ‘Come on, we need to go.’
None of her family members responded.
‘Sandra, Pete, Theo,’ she said. ‘Steve is gone. We need to get the kids to safety.’
The mention of the kids seemed to get through to Sandra. She stood up and angrily threw her gun into the zombies below us.
‘Pete, you look after Seth,’ she said, wiping her face and gently guiding her son towards Pete. ‘Theo, you’ve got Jonah. I’ve got Max. Alison is right. We need to take care of the children.’
With that, Pete and Theo slowly stood up and turned to face Sandra.
‘Right,’ Shannon said to the roof hatch. ‘That’s all of our guns.’
‘If you’re concealing we’ll find it,’ the voice from under the hatch called out. ‘Count to ten before opening the hatch, then climb down.’
The head dropped out of sight, and the hatch was closed.
One of the boys started to count, beginning at one.
‘Good boy Jonah,’ Sandra said, smiling down at her son, tears staining her face.
‘What do you think?’ Shannon asked Michael.
‘Not much choice,’ he replied, gesturing to the masses of zombies surrounding us.
‘Seven…eight…nine…ten,’ Jonah finished.
‘Well,’ Jack whispered to me. ‘Age before beauty. Down you go.’
I bent over and managed to prise the hatch up using my fingertips. The guy inside must have unhooked the chain, because it opened all the way and came to rest on the roof. I peered into the dimly lit container. I could hear some kind of engine rattling away from inside. Flickering lights came from within, like candle light.
Anything’s better than staying out here and listening to Barbie Girl.
I placed my hands on either side of the hatch, and lowered my legs in, eventually finding the metal rungs of a ladder. After grabbing my baseball bat, I climbed down into the container. Half way down I noticed a large rectangular hole in the floor. Inside the hole were wooden boards lying on the bottom. My feet reached the floor and I turned around.
Chapter 7: Zombies Don’t Hide
Orange flickering lights illuminated two men sat on plastic chairs. The one on the left was pointing a rifle at me. The guy on the right shone a torch towards the ground at my feet. A small wooden coffee table sat in front of them, three large candles burned brightly in the middle of the table. A chess board sat on the edge of the table closest to the two men, the positions of the pieces showing we had disturbed their game. The music from outside was at least muffled by the generator in the back corner, a pipe ran from the back of it into a hole high up on the wall of the container.
‘Step over to your right so Martin here can do a quick body search,’ the guy with the rifle said.
Martin stood up and gestured for me to step towards him. I moved closer and the small, bizarrely well groomed man gave me a very brisk, but thorough frisking.
‘Stand over there fella,’ Martin said to me, pointing to the wall closest to us.
‘I’m okay with the axe and the baseball bat then?’ I asked him.
‘Just looking for guns.’ He looked over my shoulder. ‘You, you’re next.’
I turned to see Jack had joined me. He then stood in front of Martin and was searched.
One by one, everyone climbed down and stepped in front of Martin. All the while the other guy sat on his little plastic chair, instructing the newcomers, and keeping his rifle aimed at us all.
Once everyone was in and searched, we were told to line up against the wall, facing Martin and his rifle wielding friend.
The guy with the rifle spoke up, ‘I’m Elliot. This is Martin.’ He pointed his thumb at Martin, now sat next to him again.
‘Hi Elliot,’ Shannon said angrily. ‘Care to explain what the fuck all this is?’
Jack and I both stared at her. I’d never seen Shannon talk like that before. Her tone caught me by surprise.
‘This,’ Elliot said, ignoring Shannon’s aggression, and gesturing with an open hand to our surroundings, ‘Is the entrance to one of the refugee camps.’
‘The what camps?’ Jack asked.
‘Refugee camps,’ Elliot replied. ‘Where us, the refugees presently live.’
‘Nine adults and three kids,’ Martin remarked. ‘We ain’t had this many come in for a while. We thought that was it.’
‘What the fuck are you on about?’ I asked.
Michael stepped forward, his hands in front of him in a calming gesture. ‘Please, could you explain everything to us? What is happening at the border?’
‘The border is now a wall,’ Elliot said, with a look of resignation on his face. ‘Then there is a couple hundred feet of no man’s land. Then we’ve got a fence, with the camp, or Blaine as it was once called, on the other side of that. Then you’ve got two more fences keeping the dead out.’
‘So the Canadians aren’t letting us in?’ Shannon asked.
‘Yeah they are,’ Elliot replied. ‘But only a few hundred a week, at least that many from our camp.’
‘How many camps are there?’ Jack asked.
Elliot tilted his head slightly. ‘Don’t know.’
‘And there is a wall along the entire border?’ Michael asked.
Elliot paused and looked up to the ceiling. ‘Don’t know for sure, but I think probably not.’
‘How many people are in the camp?’ Shannon asked. ‘How do you decide who crosses into Canada? Why are we in a shipping container in the middle of a field?’
Before Elliot could answer, I added, ‘And why are you setting off fireworks? Who is actually setting them off, and why are you playing shit nineties music?’
Again, Elliot paused for a few moments. ‘First question, don’t know. Second question, I don’t decide. You get a number when you enter the camp. Third question, like I said before, this is the entrance to our camp. There are too many of the dead at the outer fence. And what were your questions?’ he asked, looking at me. ‘Ah yes,’ he said, remembering. ‘Martin usually sets the fireworks off. We have those big display packs, and stagger them so they go off at different times. The fireworks, and in my opinion, the very enjoyable nineties music, are distractions for the Fencers and Zombie Patrol. Gives them time to shore up the outer fence and kill the zombies that made it through to the inner fence.’
I raised my hand up into the air. ‘I forgot what Shannon’s questions were.’
‘Not to worry,’ Elliot said, rising to his feet. ‘That hole o
ver there,’ he said, pointing to the hole with the wooden floor I’d noticed earlier, ‘Is the tunnel that leads to the camp. Well actually, it leads to Blaine High School, where you’ll spend twenty four hours. Just to make sure you’re not one of the running dead.’
I looked into the dark hole. ‘You fucking what?’ I muttered.
‘After twenty four hours,’ Elliot continued, ignoring me. ‘If you’re still breathing and talking like a normal human being, you’ll enter the camp and get your number and job.’
‘Number and job? Gee asked. ‘What is this shit?’
‘Don’t worry big guy,’ Elliot said. ‘The sheriff will explain it better than me. We just play the music, set off the fireworks, and shepherd refugees through the tunnel.’ He stepped towards the tunnel entrance before turning back to us. ‘So, who wants to go first? It’s two at a time.’ He looked down at the kids and grinned. ‘Maybe two and a half,’ he added.
‘Why aren’t you two wearing masks if you need a quarantine period?’ Shannon asked them.
‘Me and my good friend Martin here,’ Elliot said, slapping Martin on the back. His good friend didn’t look too happy with the physical contact. ‘We don’t think the virus is around anymore. But it’s not up to us if we have a quarantine policy or not.’
Our group all exchanged glances in silence. The Rodriguez family definitely looked in shock. Their glassy eyes seemed to look right through me.
‘I’ll go last,’ I said. ‘Had a bad experience in a hole. Just need to psyche myself up.’
‘Okay. Chris and I go last,’ Jack said.
Michael and Shannon volunteered to go first. Nobody else seemed ready to make any decisions.
‘Lay on your backs, side by side,’ Martin said. ‘Then one of you pulls on this rope.’ He leaned into the hole and grabbed a rope lying on the wooden boards.
‘It’s a straight line all the way,’ Elliot added. ‘The trolley is on tracks so it’s real easy.’
‘Is it safe?’ Shannon asked, bending down on her hands and knees at the edge of the hole, trying to look into the tunnel.
‘No accidents yet,’ Elliot replied. ‘It’s a former sewage pipe so it does stink.’
‘Great,’ I said. ‘Fucking Shawshank Redemption.’
‘There ain’t no shit to crawl through,’ Martin said. ‘All been cleared out.’
Elliot shook his head. ‘Can’t get rid of the stink though.’
‘Excellent,’ Michael said, as he stepped down onto the trolley. ‘How long does it take?’
‘It’s about two miles, so if–,’ Martin started.
‘Two fucking miles?’ I exclaimed.
‘Don’t worry. You can pick up a fair bit of speed down there. Me and Elliot can do it in twenty minutes.’
‘Holy fucking shit,’ I said, before turning to pace up and down.
Fucking hell. What if I have a panic attack down there? There will be nowhere to escape to.
Martin produced a radio from his hip and brought it up to his mouth. ‘Martin to base,’ he said.
Shannon stepped down and laid next to her husband on the wooden trolley. ‘Wish us luck,’ she said. ‘See you on the other side.’
‘Good luck,’ Jack said.
‘Yeah,’ I almost squealed. ‘Good fucking luck.’
Martin’s radio crackled into life. ‘Go ahead Martin.’
‘Two coming through,’ Martin replied. ‘Ten more to follow.’
‘Okay. Thanks Martin,’ the voice over the radio said.
‘Don’t worry Chris,’ Shannon said. ‘You’ll be fine.’
Michael pulled on the rope, rolling them into the tunnel and out of sight.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ I whispered.
Their feet disappearing into the darkness sent a shiver of fear through me. I hadn’t realised the night in the hole under the sofa would have had such an effect on me.
I heard Jack speaking. ‘Have you had many British people come through here?’
I turned to see him facing Elliot and Martin.
‘Erm…yeah, we’ve had people of all nationalities,’ Elliot replied.
‘I’m looking for my wife,’ Jack said, suddenly sounding anxious, his eyes darting between Elliot and Martin. ‘She’s called Beth Tillman, white, about five foot seven, blue eyes, light brown hair down to about here.’ He placed his hand just below his chin.
Elliot raised his hands. ‘Whoa there fella. For a start, me and Martin don’t do every shift out here, and also, do you know how many people have entered the camp in the last two weeks?’
‘Well…no,’ Jack answered.
Elliot hesitated. ‘Well, neither do I, but it’s a lot. I met a fella the other day and his number was thirty seven thousand and something.’
‘Fuck,’ Jack whispered.
‘Once you get through to the other side, there are lists and lists of everyone that has come in,’ Elliot said, obviously trying to placate Jack. ‘If you ask the sheriff once you’re over there, he might be able to help you.’
Jack turned to look at me. ‘I can’t stay here and wait,’ he said. ‘Do you mind if I go next?’
Bollocks. I’m not ready for this.
‘I stay with Chris to end,’ Gee offered.
Fucking hell. Gee might get stuck down there. I’d be well and truly fucked then.
‘Thanks Gee,’ I said. ‘Probably best I get it over and done with. Face my fears and all that shit. That’s as long as nobody else minds?’ I directed this final bit to the group.
A few waves of hands meant we were going next.
Bollocks.
Thirty minutes later and I was lying on the trolley in the hole, my baseball bat and Jack’s axe separating us. Bringing the empty trolley back had taken less than ten minutes. I’d been expecting, and hoping, for a bit more time.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jack turn his head to face me.
‘Do you want to pull or shall I?’ he asked.
‘Erm…you, if you want.’
‘Okay. See you all soon,’ Jack said, as he pulled on the rope. The wheels squeaked as the trolley started to roll, and our heads entered the tunnel.
‘It will be okay Chris,’ Gee called out.
‘Yep, cheers,’ I just about managed to say.
It only took a few seconds until we were far enough away from the candle light in the container to make it pitch black. I’d been worried about being in a small space again. I hadn’t taken into consideration the lack of light.
‘I hadn’t thought about it being this dark,’ I said.
‘What were you expecting? For the whole tunnel to be lit up?’
‘Nope, just hadn’t thought about it. Talk to me about something though please. Otherwise the smell of shit is gonna get a lot stronger.’
‘I really don’t think that is possible,’ Jack said.
Fuck’s sake. We’re going really fucking slowly.
‘Actually Jacqueline, on second thoughts, I’ll pull the rope if you want?’
‘I’m doing it now. I’m just getting into a rhythm.’
‘A really fucking slow rhythm,’ I muttered.
‘Fuck off. I’ll get quicker. We’ve only just set off.’
‘I honestly don’t mind doing it,’ I offered.
‘I’m doing the fucking rope pulling!’ he shouted, his voice echoing back to us.
‘Okay, okay. You can fucking do it.’
At least that argument had momentarily taken my mind off feeling like the tunnel was closing in around us. I didn’t dare move my hands in case they would touch the ceiling. If the space was indeed that small, my head would probably explode. My thoughts were getting too loud again, making it impossible to think of anything rational. I could almost feel my nose scraping against the roof.
Calm down Chris.
I tried to take in slow, deep breaths.
I wanted to talk but I couldn’t swallow all of a sudden. With a very painful gulp, I managed to get down whatever was making me mute. ‘I’m starting t
o freak out Jack. Talk to me.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Talk about something, anything.’
‘Erm…I don’t know. What about Steve dying like that? That was very dramatic wasn’t it?’
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. ‘Yeah, I suppose you could say that.’
‘Do you think he thought he was going to make it?’ Jack asked. ‘Or did he know he was sacrificing himself for Max.’
‘Jesus. Dunno. No, I don’t think he thought he was gonna survive that. He wasn’t the brightest spark but he must have known.’
‘Well, either way, that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen,’ Jack said.
‘Yep, I honestly can’t believe he did that. It was fucking mental. Horrible and mental.’
‘What else could we have done though?’ Jack asked. ‘It was only a matter of time before the zombies got to him, or he fell off the bus.’
‘Yeah I know. Not sure what I would have done if I was in his place. What actually happened after he left the bus? He got off before me.’
‘Don’t know,’ Jack said. ‘I think he had Max the whole time, so I don’t know if the kid ran off or something.’
‘How are your arms?’ I asked. ‘Do you want me to take over yet?’
‘They’re fine, and no I don’t. You don’t think Steve thought he would survive all the bites because we told him about Shannon surviving her bite?’ Jack asked.
‘Nah, he didn’t do it because of what we told him. He must have known he’d be eaten alive.’
Fucking hell. That was a horrible to say about somebody I kind of knew.
A shiver ran down my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold down here, or from talking about Steve’s death. Probably a bit of both. My heart was still working overtime, but at least my head was starting to clear slightly.
‘In the last couple of weeks, Pete and Theo have lost their mother, father and brother,’ I said. ‘Not good is it?’
‘Slight understatement, but yes, not good at all.’
‘All in very horrific circumstances as well.’