Where Men Once Walked

by Mark L Watson

  “I do not know” the man said, shaking his head and turning to watch the guards with their rifles raised, “but it must be very serious indeed”

  Gradually, beginning from the back of the train, the guards started to move the passengers away and led them at gunpoint in a slow march, back down the track to the east the way they had come. Two carriages back along the line a cluster of young men were protesting and they took up their bags and turned out of the march and started walking back west towards the city. Two guards, tall and dark and armed, stepped into their way with their rifles up at head height and bellowed for them to return to the line but they refused and pushed away from the guards, and at once one of them swung his rifle butt into the cheek of the front man and he fell to his knees on the tracks. They shouted again and the other men shouted back angrily and the guard raised his gun to swing again and they receded and begrudgingly rejoined the line of marching passengers and continued onward without uttering another word. They carried the injured dissident with them, his face broken and dripping blood.

  As the kid and the American passed the back carriage of the train the body of a young man in black shorts lay sprawled across the track with a gunshot wound in the side of his neck, pouring blood of deep red onto the dry ground and the rusted metal of the tracks and it pooled by his head and trickled slowly away in channels along the cracked earth and flies were gathered already and someone had taken his shoes and he lay as he fell to rot in that place.

  The scorching white sun hung dead in the white sky and baked the earth and everything that walked it and the men and women who walked those tracks were not allowed to stop at all.

  They called to the guards and asked them of where they were being taken and why they could not continue their journey west but the guards were ordered not to talk or to tell the people anything and they looked straight forward as they walked, breaking their steely focus only to urge the people onwards and to not ask questions.

  After half a mile the group had started to drift apart and those at the front were walking some few hundred yards away from those at the back. They were led off to the north as the track forked from the mainline into the sleeperyard where the trains were taken for cleaning and maintenance. Ahead of them were four trainsheds and the track forked again so that a train could be taken into each of them. The two sheds on the left had their steel rollershutters pulled down over the front of them but the other two were open and empty and in a state of disrepair and none had been used to maintain train carriages for many years.

  The guards marched the passengers into the open front of one of the trainsheds and made them pile their luggage and their belongings outside except for what food and water they carried though this was not much, and despite it some passengers managed to get inside with their bags still with them. Another group of dissenting men would not enter the building at all and those men were swiftly met with swinging rifle butts and heavy boots and though some men fought back none succeeded and within a few minutes every one of them was inside the building, injured or otherwise. They had already secured the doors inside the building so that anyone inside the main hold of the trainshed would not be able to exit through any other door than that at the front and when the final passengers had been led into the building the captain gave the order and the electric shutter began to close on them. The horde of people protested loudly and women screamed and cried and jostled forward and the guards screamed at them and prodded them backwards with their rifles and the passengers pushed more and one young man made a run for his escape and was promptly shot through the back of the head with a single rifle shot. He staggered and fell onto the tracks in a slow motion explosion of blood and bone from the open hole in the back of his head. The crowd immediately hushed and ceased pushing and though they shouted and cried still, the guards held them back until the shutter was lowered and the few hundred passengers were trapped inside together.

  The vast structure was made of corrugated steel with a maintenance office built into the rear which had been smashed apart at some time and other than the dusty broken desk and some metal hooks and shelves on the walls the place was empty. There was a large double door on the side at the rear which had been an emergency exit and it was locked with a padlock and had been chained closed with a huge iron chain that was linked around itself and fastened with another padlock. The traintrack ran under the front shutter door and into the centre of the building to buffers and a rough concrete platform rose on each side with a walkway between the two, and though the building was nearly a hundred feet long it was only half that wide.

  After nearly an hour of the passengers kicking and pushing at the shutter and pulling at the emergency door and the chain and climbing atop each other to reach the old wiring above, the group began to calm and discussions started as to what may be happening to them and what could be done about it.

  The American and the kid sat on the edge of the platform and watched as a few men started to take charge of the group. One man with a big moustache and a grey shirt whistled through his teeth and the crowd hushed and turned to him and he spoke to them in Hindi and they called and heckled and he raised his hands to quiet them.

  As he spoke, a young couple sat near the kid and the American. The girl had been crying and the man held her to him.

  The kid nodded to the man and he nodded back.

  “You speak English?” the kid called over to the young man.

  He nodded.

  “Yes, I studied in UK for four years” he said quite proudly.

  The kid nodded.

  “What is he saying?” he asked, pointing to the man with the moustache talking to the crowd.

  “He is trying to calm the people, to make a plan”

  “What does he think?” the American asked.

  “I don’t know. He has no plan. Those men have guns and we have nothing here”

  The man stopped and listened for a moment and then turned back to the kid.

  “He says they have been trying to reach the power lines at the roof of this building but they cannot reach them”

  “You know why we’re locked in here?” the American asked, leaning in.

  “This man there said that Patna is quarantined and that some disease has broken out there. Nobody can go there”

  The kid frowned.

  “So why would they need to lock us up in here? Why could they not just send the train back?”

  The man shrugged.

  “Quarantine. These people need no reason. This is a different place that we are living in now my friend, and these people, these guards, these soldiers can do whatever would appear fit to them”

  The kid nodded.

  He knew that was true. It was indeed a different place they were living in.

  Once the passengers, though now only passengers of their own fate, had calmed their tempers and given in trying to kick the doors open, they started to rest and some shared their food and water and the sick were taken to the back of the room and given blankets and clothing items on which to rest. There were two skylights in the roof of the building though they were some forty feet up and provided no means of escape without a ladder or a frame and eventually the light through them began to fade and then there was no light at all. The power to the train shed was controlled from the outside to ensure that the shutter could not be opened from the inside and within the hour they were in complete darkness.

  Some time later when the people had settled somewhat they heard distant voices and the shouting of men and women coming nearer and they heard the clicking and whirring and the scraping of the rollershutter at the neighbouring trainshed. The shouting voices were outside the building and there were cries and screams and then a gunshot and then another and then the sound of the shutter closing again. The people in their shed called to their new neighbours and the guards banged on the shutter and told them to cease, and then they heard the guards leave and the panicked shouting and crying of those trapped in the next shed. There were attempt
s to call to them and some muffled responses but nothing was achieved at all and eventually the dark of the night descended onto them fully.

  In the dark, the silhouetted figure of the man with the moustache stood again and called to the crowd and they hushed and the man spoke to them.

  The young man next to the kid translated again.

  “He says we must take the strongest men and break the chain from that door. He says if we all work together we can break it open and we can escape from here”

  Another man called from the crowd. The young man translated.

  “This man thinks the soldiers are outside still and that those who escape will be shot for sure”

  The kid nodded and said this was probably so.

  The man with the moustache told them there was no alternative for they couldn’t stay in there without water and when the heat rose again the following morning they would not survive long.

  The man called for the strongest of the group to gather at the double door and huddled them together and they all began to kick as one. The door made a heavy metallic thump and the chain rattled and they kicked and kicked and the door did not move nor even show signs of moving. They continued this way for an hour, taking it in turns to rest from the kicking and at times others joined them and then some protested it futile and gave in and rested but yet others replaced them. The soldiers came from time to the other side of the door and shouted for the men to stop and threatened them with death but they came and went and appeared to regard their escape efforts as futile and had apparent faith in the iron chain. The kid and the American took their turn to kick at the door and when the American stepped forward some of the men cheered him and called him the wrestler and he had only kicked a few times before he turned to the kid and shook his head.

  “That door ain’t opening by no kicking man, not with that chain around it”

  The kid said nothing and stood with his hands on his hips watching. The group continued kicking and pushing.

  The man with the moustache appeared next to them.

  “You don’t want to help us get out of here, wrestler?”

  “You ain’t kicking your way out of here man, save your strength. All that kicking’s gonna do is make these men thirsty and tired and we ain’t got no water or beds”

  The man nodded and watched the group.

  “What do you suggest wrestler?”

  The American looked around in the darkness.

  “What have these people got with them in here?”

  “Nothing my friend”

  “That’s not true” said the kid, “some people got their bags inside didn’t they? We should find out what everyone has and see if there is something in here that can help us pick that lock off”

  Both men nodded and the moustachioed man called for the group to stop kicking at the door.

  “People” he called loudly.

  “Who in this place has their luggage?”

  He repeated himself in Hindi and the crowd murmured and a few people brought forward their bags and laid them before the men.

  “Turn them out” he said.

  The four women and the two men who had their luggage with them started to unpack the contents onto the dusty concrete floor. There were mostly clothes and some toiletry items and some books and the women carried photos of family and the men had some cassette tapes and a child’s toy and some coins. One of the women, older than the rest, was also carrying some jewellery with her bundled up in cloth and she didn’t want to show it to the crowd though most couldn’t see the items in the dark anyway.

  “Can you pick locks?” the kid asked.

  The American turned to him.

  “I reckon I can do ‘bout anything if my life depends on it”

  “Well it does. Without power that door is the only way out of here”

  The American nodded.

  “What you wanna pick it with?”

  The kid turned to the elderly woman who was holding her bag close to her.

  “Madam, can we see some of the jewellery?”

  She frowned and shook her head and clasped the bag closer and muttered something in her language and turned back to the crowd.

  “Please explain to her what we’re doing?” the kid said to the guys next to him and they told her why they needed it and she again refused and one man stepped forward and spoke to her gently and motioned to the locked door and then to her bag and placed his hand on her shoulder and she nodded.

  He looked up to the American and nodded to him.

  They led her to the side of the building through the dark and she held the hand of another woman who was travelling with her and when they reached the door she crouched and nervously opened up her bag and showed them the contents.

  From her reluctance they had expected some wealth of treasures and when she slowly removed the jewellery it was old and worn and of little value though it held sentiment to her and they respected that.

  The American inspected the load.

  There were three old rings and a necklace with a pendant and two earrings and come coins. He looked at each item and placed it down on the ground in front of them as though it were of value and then she took out two broaches and he smiled. He unpinned the clasps and inspected the pins and pressed them on the floor to see how easy they would bend and they did not.

  He stood and moved to the door.

  “Tell her if I break ‘em I’ll buy her two more better than these when we’re out” he said but nobody translated it to the woman.

  He kneeled next to the door and fed both broach pins into the lock together. He twisted the first one, holding it delicately with his big rough fingers and moved it around until he felt the tension of the lock turning in its casing and he asked the kid to hold the padlock still so that it wouldn’t slide. He started to move the second broach up and down in the lock waiting for the little pins to switch.

  The group had hushed though he knew that most of them could not see him there in the darkness.

  The first pin clicked and he held his breath.

  He tried to be as delicate as he could and after a few moments the second pin clicked. He turned to the man with the moustache.

  “Tell these people if this lock comes off this door they can’t go cheering and shouting and all, or if them guards are out there they’ll know we’re up to something and come running”

  He turned back to the lock and then turned straight back to the man again.

  “In fact, tell them to stop being so goddamn quiet, it sounds suspicious”

  The man relayed the information to the crowd and the tension eased slightly as they moved around in the dark and talked lightly amongst themselves.

  The third pin clicked and the American tried desperately to keep his hands still though they tingled and his elbow ached from the angle at which it was held.

  The fourth pin clicked open and the lock turned and the bolt dropped out and the American let out a deep breath and let his hands fall. There was a quiet excitement in the crowd and the man tried again to hush them.

  The American stood and tossed the padlock to the kid.

  The kid looked up to him.

  “You reckon they’re outside?” he asked.

  He saw the American shrug in the dark.

  “If they are, and they’ve already gone and shot some people, you really wanna open that door and let all these people flood out there? It’ll be goddamned carnage”

  The man with the moustache and some of the other men agreed with him.

  “We will need to sneak out of here” the man said.

  The American shook his head.

  “All these people ain’t sneaking out of nowhere, I don’t care what you say. Somebody should go out first and scope out the area, and then give the go-ahead to y’all if it’s safe”

  The men all agreed though nobody volunteered for the role and after a few moments the American said he would do it himself and they all thanked him.

  They quietly took th
e chain from the door and placed it onto the ground without making a sound and the American took the two broaches to the padlock on the door itself. The lock was much older than the first and the broaches scraped at the inside of the chamber and came out rusty and it was far more difficult to tell when the pins had opened but eventually they all did and the padlock fell to the concrete floor with a dull clang.

  The man immediately raised his hand to the crowd to hush them but in the darkness of the shed they felt the atmosphere change and a young man moved quickly forward to the door and the others held him back and reminded him that this had to be done tactfully and with vigilance or they risked alerting the sentries and the opportunity would be lost for all of them there.

  The kid clapped his hand on the American’s back and wished him luck and told him to be careful and to be silent and the American nodded and told him that luck played no part in this and to keep everyone quiet and inside the trainshed.

  They listened through the door and they listened through the shutters at the front but they couldn’t hear anything for sound of those in the next shed who were also trying to break the doors open.

  They slowly depressed the bar on the emergency door and pushed it open and it was heavy and made no sound but for the scraping through the dust on the ground outside. The cool air billowed in and again the man with the moustache waved frantically to the crowd to keep calm and to keep quiet. The American opened the door only enough to squeeze through and he stepped out into the night and slowly pushed the door closed again behind him.

  The sky was a dusty brown and black and smelled of smoke and tar and diesel and decay and the death of men. He stayed close to the building and edged along the side wall to the corner and stood for a moment. The chain link fence ran along the side of the building and away into the dark of the west. In the distance the sky over Patna was a dusky flickering orange as though the entire city was ablaze.

  He peered slowly around the building to where the traintracks split into each of the sheds. The place was empty. He could hear the repetitive thumping on the door of the other shed as those inside tried to break it open and he crouched down in the dead weeds and watched, knowing the virtue of patience there was critical.