by Wood, J N
‘What, with the crowds?’ Naomi asked.
‘Yeah,’ Jack replied.
‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon acclimate. It takes some folk a while to get used to it again.’ She gave us a smile and a nod, before disappearing into the throng of people.
‘Let’s get inside,’ I said. ‘I think it’s the fact that there’s so many people, all on one little street. Is this what it’s gonna be like everywhere?’
‘I fucking hope not,’ Jack said, as he pulled open the door into the Senior Centre.
Thankfully, relatively speaking, it was almost empty of people. We walked into a large room. Rows and rows of desks filled the space, maybe forty or fifty desks. Only half of them had someone sat behind them.
As we approached the closest occupied desk, the man sat behind it looked up from the book he was reading, and said, ‘Complaints? Speak to Melvin.’ He turned his head slightly to his left, and still keeping his voice down, called out, ‘Melvin, these are yours.’
‘No we’re–,' I started.
‘Melvin,’ the man said again. ‘Melvin? Oh hang on, Melvin didn’t show today. You need to see…’ He trailed off and spun his seat around so he was facing the other way.
‘We’re not here to complain,’ Jack said.
‘Speak to Aisha,’ the obnoxious man said, swivelling back around and continuing to read his book.
‘Hello.’ I waved at him until he looked up at me. I spoke as slowly and as clearly as I could. ‘We are not here to complain. We are new. Our friends should have already been here and found us somewhere to stay.’
The obnoxious man seemed to take offence. ‘No need to be so condescending,’ he said.
What the fuck?
‘Over here,’ a woman, a few rows back, called out to us. Her hand was up above her head.
‘I’m gonna go and make a complaint about you,’ I said, pointing at the idiot sat in front of us.
Jack shoved me towards the woman with her arm raised. ‘Come on Chris.’
We walked through the gaps between the desks until we reached hers.
‘You Jack and Chris?’ she asked.
‘Yes, that’s us,’ Jack said.
She handed Jack two sheets of paper. ‘I’ve circled in red where your accommodation is situated on these maps.’
Jack handed one of them to me and I looked down at an approximation of Refugee Camp 33. It looked like it had been drawn with a biro pen, and the street names were almost illegible.
‘Before you say anything,’ the woman said. ‘My daughter drew those maps, so don’t say anything insulting. We ran out of actual maps two weeks ago.’
I compared mine with Jack’s. They looked like two completely different places. ‘I’m gonna have to say something, and you might find it insulting,’ I said.
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, go on.’
I took Jack’s map and showed both of them to the woman. ‘Which one of these would you say was the most accurate?’
She leaned forward slightly, taking in both sheets of paper. A few seconds passed while she inspected them, before prodding the one in my right hand with her pen. ‘Probably this one,’ she told us.
I placed the least accurate of the maps back down on her desk. ‘Okay, thanks very much.’
She forced a smile onto her face, a split second later it was gone.
As we left, I noticed most of the people sat at the desks seemed to be asleep, or well on their way.
Jack stopped by the door. ‘Before we go back out,’ he said. ‘Let’s figure out where we need to go. I don’t want to get lost in the crowds.’
A building was circled on the right hand side of the map, quite close to the east inner fence. The child’s drawing made it impossible to see which road it was on.
‘Is that on F Street?’ Jack asked. ‘Or 12th Street?’
‘Fuck knows. I’m not going back over to ask the shit artist’s mother. We’ll just have to go and knock on doors.’
‘Brilliant,’ Jack said. ‘Go back the way we came, and then turn left onto 12th Street? We can’t get lost that way. Where do we need to go to speak to the Fencer’s and Zombie Patrol bosses?’
‘Can’t remember. I doubt this map looks like the one in the sheriff’s container anyway. Let’s find everyone else first.’
As we left the building, Jack said, ‘I’m gonna complain about you,’ mimicking me. He was swirling his finger around in front of him.
‘I didn’t say it like that, and I wasn’t doing that with my finger.’
Jack then wagged his finger at me. ‘I’m gonna complain about you too.’
‘Yeah, fuck off.’
Chapter 11: Lost Souls
With a little bit more ease, we entered the crowds again. I kept my eyes on Jack’s ginger hair as we forced our way through thousands of silent or quietly muttering refugees.
Word of a fight on the other side of the street quickly made its way to us. What followed was almost a stampede, as people tried to escape getting caught up in the brawl. All I could see over the bodies scurrying past were occasional fists swinging through the air. No words were spoken. I just heard grunts of pain.
Jack grabbed my arm and said, ‘Let’s get out of here, before we get crushed.’
We let the crowds take us to the end of the street, both of us releasing a sigh of relief after reaching the outer road and leaving the crowds behind us.
We were soon turning left onto 12th Street, and walking with the east inner fence on our right. Every twenty feet someone stood watch, staring out through the line of trees on the other side. Jack spotted Gee first, pointing him out to me. He was stood on the corner of 12th and F Street. He noticed us and waved.
When we were closer, he shouted, ‘Hey fuckers,’ with a big smile filling his face.
One of the guards by the fence turned to him, saying, ‘Shut up.’
Gee raised his hands to the angry man, not looking apologetic in the slightest. He turned back to us with a sheepish grin.
‘What’s up with Gee, why is he so happy?’ I asked Jack.
‘No idea.’
When we were a few feet away from him, Jack asked, ‘Why are you so happy Gee?’
‘Not happy, just not fucked off as much as before.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Have we been given a nice place to stay?’
‘No. It shit. Follow me,’ Gee replied, turning and starting to walk down F Street.
‘So why do you look happy all of a sudden?’ Jack asked again as we followed.
‘I don’t,’ he snapped.
Jack looked at me and shrugged, saying, ‘Okay, fair enough Big Gee.’
Gee took us to the end of F Street, and then turned right onto what must have been 11th Street.
Jack pulled the map out of his pocket. ‘This is a shit map.’
We walked past a house on our right before Gee made a right turn. ‘This is house,’ he said, and headed towards it.
A single story, white wood panelled house stood before us. It looked like it might be a bit of a squeeze for all of us to fit in.
We entered into the hallway and Gee opened the first door on the right. ‘This is where you two sleep,’ he said, gesturing for us to enter.
Our bedroom looked like a room in a hostel. Ten bunkbeds had been crammed into the space, with just a two foot wide gap separating the beds. It was going to be very cosy.
‘What the actual fuck?’ I muttered.
‘You two look like I look, when I see room,’ Gee said, the big smile returning.
‘Are you in here as well?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
‘Fucking hell,’ I whispered.
Gee spun around and walked further down the corridor. ‘Come with me, others in the yard.’
He pointed to the door of the only bathroom as we passed it. Maximum visiting time – FIVE MINUTES, had been written on a sheet of paper and taped to the door. We walked past the kitchen, before following him out through another door, and into the ba
ck garden. Our group sat on the grass, quietly chatting to each other, the kids ran around the garden playing some kind of chasing game.
‘Hey guys,’ Shannon said.
Everyone else welcomed us with a smile or a glance in our direction. Sandra quickly stood and stepped towards us. I shook my head and apologised.
Her face dropped, and she glanced at the kids still running around, oblivious to our arrival. She looked to me, and then Jack. ‘Don’t say anything,’ she whispered. Ali stepped behind her and placed her hands on Sandra’s shoulders, while Jack and I both nodded in agreement. Ali guided her sister back over to the kids.
‘Beth?’ Michael asked.
Jack screwed up his face, saying, ‘I think so.’
Michael and Shannon shot each other confused glances, before looking back to Jack. ‘What do you mean?’ Shannon asked.
Jack and I both sat down on the grass, and Jack told everyone what we had found in the list of refugees.
After a few moments of silence, Michael spoke up. ‘Maybe they pretended to be married, in order to get into the camp.’
‘Why?’ Jack said. ‘Nothing like that happened with us. The sheriff doesn’t give a shit about that.’
Shannon placed a hand on Jack’s arm. ‘Calm down Jack. If this is your Beth, I’m sure there will be a perfectly reasonable explanation.’
‘Maybe they just fucking,’ Gee said.
Jack shot him a look of utter disdain.
‘What the fuck Gee?’ I said, trying to hold back a laugh.
‘Gee,’ Shannon said. ‘That isn’t helping anybody.’
‘And it doesn’t make any sense,’ I said. ‘Why would she take Roy’s name just so she could shag him?’
‘Shag him,’ Gee laughed. ‘Yes, they just shagging.’
‘Has he taken something?’ I asked everyone, gesturing towards Gee.
‘He found some other Lithuanians in the camp,’ Michael replied. ‘I think they shared a few bottles of vodka.’
‘Probably not just the vodka,’ Shannon said under her breath.
‘What time is it?’ I asked.
Michael glanced down at his watch. ‘Nearly two.’
‘A few bottles,’ I said. ‘That’s impressive.’
‘We need to speak to the bosses,’ Jack said. ‘Then I’m going to look for Beth.’ He shot an angry glance at Gee, who just beamed back at him.
Michael scrambled to get to his feet. ‘I’ll take you to see them,’ he quickly said. ‘I expect you’ll be with us on Zee Pee, that’s the Zombie Patrol. Amber, she’s the boss, told us we’d probably have the night off. They usually have two or three nights off in a row.’
‘Sounds good,’ I said.
‘Not when you have to live here,’ Shannon interjected. ‘The house is nearly full, almost every bed is taken.’
‘Shite. How many people?’ I asked.
‘Thirty eight, thirty nine, forty, maybe,’ Michael said. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
‘Enjoy yourself Michael. Don’t stay too long,’ Shannon said, waving him off.
Michael smiled at his wife, and then led us around the house and back onto the street.
‘Thirty eight people in that little house?’ I muttered. ‘How is that going to work exactly?’
‘Not sure to be honest with you Chris,’ Michael replied. ‘I’m guessing it’s going to be done with a lot of discomfort. Shannon and I are only sharing a room with Alison and her family, so we’ve got a slightly better deal than the two of you and Gee.’
‘Twenty of us in one room,’ I said. ‘I might find a tent.’
Jack was very quiet for the walk, probably desperate to get his search for Beth underway.
Michael explained that our breakfasts and evening meals were served in a large tent or marquee, set up on D Street. It was one of many situated around the camp.
‘Before you turned back up, we were talking to one of your new roommates. She said that the food was very basic, porridge and water in the morning, mostly rice and potatoes in the evening. Two or three nights a week there might be fish on the menu. She reckons this place doesn’t have long left. A lot of the fishing boats they started with have vanished, and–.’
‘What do you mean? Vanished?’ I asked.
‘Sailed away and never came back, probably trying to get north like everyone else. So they don’t have many boats left, or fishermen that know what they’re doing. And the scavengers are coming back with less and less each time apparently, if they come back at all. She said she can’t imagine it’ll be long before people start revolting.’
‘So everyone goes to one of these food tents twice a day?’ Jack asked. ‘What time do they serve? How many are there?’
‘Not sure how many, but breakfast is from seven until ten in the morning,’ Michael replied. ‘Dinner is six until nine in the evening.’
‘What about running water?’ I asked. ‘Do the toilets flush?’
‘Looks like they have water, cold obviously, but it’s running,’ Michael replied. ‘The toilets flush, but there is a sign up in the bathroom saying to use it sparingly. I’m guessing you know what that means?’
‘The bathroom is gonna stink of piss?’ I guessed.
‘Yes, but better than a hole in the ground,’ Michael replied.
He stopped at the corner of 12th and H Street, just near the gate we had used to first enter the camp.
‘This is it,’ he said, pointing to the house on the corner. ‘I’ll show you where to go.’
We followed him up to the front door. After two knocks, Michael opened the door and a cloud of smoke drifted out towards us. The smell of marijuana hit me immediately. Without hesitation, Michael stepped through the smoke and into the house. Jack and I looked at each other, smiled and then both shrugged. Jack followed him in first.
‘Tonight Matthew, I’m going to be…’ I paused for dramatic effect. ‘Off my fucking face,’ I said, stepping through the doorway and into the corridor. The thick smoke enveloped me, drawing me into the house.
‘What was that?’ Michael asked me. ‘Who is Matthew?’
‘Ah it’s nothing. Just a TV programme in England.’
‘Fucking hell,’ Jack coughed. ‘No wonder you wanted to come with us Michael, you fucking stoner.’
Michael turned to him and nodded, a huge smile filling his face.
Jack looked back at me. ‘It’s always the so called respectable ones, like the teachers.’
We followed Michael into the living room. It reminded me of a student house, the curtains were drawn and it was very sparsely decorated. People seemed to be everywhere, sprawled across the few pieces of furniture, just an armchair, a sofa and a couple of bean bags. Over in the far corner, five people were lying together on the carpeted floor. A notice board was on the wall opposite us, different coloured squares adorned the the top of the board, with hundreds of names listed under each colour. Candles flickered away, some dangerously close to the curtains, and people. The scene before us felt weird with no music playing. All I could hear were the grunts of acknowledgements as joints were passed around.
The three of us stood in the open doorway, waiting for one of the obviously stoned people to speak. They were either unconscious or stared back at us with untrusting eyes, like we’d just invaded their private drug den, which I suppose we had.
Michael leaned in closer to the guy nearest us. He was wearing incredibly short denim shorts and a t-shirt. He’d positioned himself sideways on the large comfy looking armchair, his head hanging upside down off the edge of it, and his legs dangling off the other side.
‘Hey, have you seen Amber?’ Michael asked.
The guy slowly opened his eyes, and after a few seconds of trying to focus, centred in on Michael’s face. ‘She ain’t here. Whaddya need?’ he eventually said, drawing out every word.
Michael gestured to Jack and I. ‘These two are new. They need to be assigned to a team.’
The stoned guy attempted to look at us, but after a few attempts,
just closed his eyes again. ‘Blue Team,’ he mumbled.
‘We came here earlier and were placed in Green Team,’ Michael said.
‘There is no Green Bream fucker. Blue Team, fucking Blue Team.’ He lifted his right hand off the floor and took a long drag from the joint he was holding between two fingers. ‘Blue lost some peeps, need new pee-opps,’ he croaked, before blowing a long smoke trail out of his mouth. ‘Tell them to come here and speak to Crab tomorrow evening at six. No worky work tonighty night.’
‘Okay,’ Michael said, turning to us and shrugging his shoulders. ‘Crab it is then.’
‘Hey man,’ Stoned Guy said. ‘Not Crabab, I never said Cra…’ He trailed off and seemed to pass out, before coming back with a jolt. ‘It’s Caleb, fucking Ca…leb,’ he said. ‘You fucking deaf or what? It’s Caleb.’ The hand holding the joint shot out above him, and he drew the letters with his finger, while spelling it out, ‘C. A. L. E. B.’
‘I think you’ll find you actually said Crab, and then you said Crabab,’ Michael insisted.
‘Caleb man,’ Stoned Guy slowly replied, drawing the two words out. His head lolled back even further, a big grin slowly appearing on his face.
‘What?’ a voice called out from the other side of the room.
Peering through the haze I could see a man now sitting upright on the sofa opposite us. The people on either side of him moaned and shifted slightly, complaining about him moving.
‘What Rory?’ the man on the sofa said. ‘What do you want?’
Stoned Guy, or Rory, lifted his head slightly. ‘Hey Caleb, you’re here man, what’s up?’
‘Nothing, what’s up with you?’ Caleb replied, his eyes barely open and squinting in our direction.
Rory dropped his head back so it was upside down again. ‘Just chilling,’ he slowly said.
'Sweet,' Caleb answered, slumping back into his seat.
We watched the surreal exchange like a tennis rally, our heads going back and forth.
What the fuck? These guys are high as fucking kites.
‘Do you need their names?’ Michael asked.
Rory’s head moved slightly so we waited for a response, seconds passed and nothing came.