by Benson, Tom
“How long will the power-pack last?”
“If the manufacturer’s guarantee is anything to go by … ten, maybe fifteen years if we only run the motor for six hours per day.” He smiled.
Bill nodded. “How are we doing on water supplies?”
Dawn said, “We’re getting desperate now—people are sharing with those who have greater need.” She reached down and lifted a full bottle. “I kept this one for you because I knew you intended to trek back to the other end.”
“Thanks.” Bill accepted the bottle. “Did you do as I asked with the wooden crates out front?”
“Yes, all three crates have the empty bottles replaced.” She paused. “They’ll listen to me if I have to explain the position, and I’ve got a couple of people to back me when you guys are away.”
Paul said, “I’ve also recharged the flashlight, so it’s good to go for a few hours.” He handed it over.
“Great—thanks, guys.” Bill stood. “I’m looking for a volunteer to go on a walk with me. Before you say yes, it might be a long walk and you’ll be carrying a crate of bottles, but I’ll be willing to share this.” He held up his bottle.
Calvin’s muscular black figure standing up came as no surprise. “I’ll give you a hand, mate.”
Bill had a quick word with Paul and Dawn, and then he followed Calvin outside. “I’d like to take one of these crates with us, and if Harry has managed to cleanse some of the pipes, at least we’ll have twenty bottles to bring back.”
“Why only one crate?”
“We’ve not had much nourishment or water in the past twenty-four hours so I thought it would be easier.”
“Who needs easier when you’ve got a challenge? If we take one crate each that will give us a full bottle for everybody and spares.”
“Grab a crate, Calvin.” Bill nodded and lifted the second one, and they set off, no more than the lowest level of light playing between the rails from the flashlight. Both men conserved energy by remaining quiet as they walked. Bill broke his silence as they arrived at the first emergency exit and the reflective strip became obvious. The two men continued walking as Bill explained to Calvin what was in the small room and that they were regularly spaced along the tunnel.
Sometime later it was Calvin who broke the silence. “What the hell is that—it’s not the same reflective thing as before?”
“I’m puzzled,” Bill said. “We’ve probably covered enough distance for it to be the first MP—maintenance portal, but it only had a strip of reflective paint before.” He stared ahead at what looked like a blue iridescent stripe across the rails. Before reaching the stripe, Bill switched off the flashlight.
When the two men arrived at MP-1, the door was jammed open, and the interior of the portal was bathed in an eerie bluish, violet light. There was a light source in the short passageway, and the three doors of MP-1 were open. The compartments were sharing the glow of a cluster of LEDs.
“Wow,” Calvin said. “This is neat. I don’t remember you saying anything about the tiny blue lights before.” He stepped into the white-tiled kitchen and though everything was in shadow and the solid shapes had a bluish tinge, he could see the sink, tap, worktop and cupboard.
“The light wasn’t here before, mate. They’re LEDs and will have been Harry’s idea.” Bill showed Calvin the general layout and explained that all three MPs had a similar setup.
The pair sipped water from their shared bottle and moved on with their walk into the darkness. As they continued, mile after mile, when they were some distance away in each case, they saw the blue tinge illuminating a section of track up ahead as they came close to an MP.
Near the end of the walk, Calvin whispered. “That light up ahead is a bit stronger, but it’s similar.”
“That’s where Harry lives and works—get ready for a surprise.”
A few minutes later, when they were within touching distance, Calvin stopped. “Am I seeing a bloody train carriage?”
“You are, mate—one of four carriages.”
“I don’t think Craig needs to hear about this yet—he’ll have half the coach following him into the bloody dark.”
Both men laughed, expending a little of their reserves of energy, but exercising facial muscles which had started to seize up.
Five minutes later, Bill and Calvin were both sitting at the table drinking Chamomile tea with Harry and his new assistant, Victoria.
Of the four people, Calvin was the quietest as he sat looking around, unable to take it all in.
Harry said, “What’s your verdict on the LEDs in the maintenance portals?”
“Great,” Calvin said. “We saw the blue stripes illuminating sections of track from quite a distance. I think having the LEDs and the doors jammed open is a stroke of genius.”
“I must admit, it was Victoria’s idea.” Harry pointed to an area on the extended workbench. “There are a few more LED sets over there, so if you guys take them on the way back, you could set one on the floor of each of the emergency passages.”
“Right,” Bill said. “If we leave them on the floor inside and jam the door open in each case it will give us a strip of blue light across the rails at shorter, regular intervals all the way through the tunnel.”
“It may not sound like much,” Harry said. “I know from walking it in complete darkness it takes some getting used to, but it will help.”
Victoria said, “We’ve been discussing ways that we could illuminate more of the long sections. Needless to say, we have a lot of work and planning ahead of us.”
Harry half-turned to Victoria. “You’re holding back the major advance.”
Bill and Calvin turned to face Victoria in the faint blue light of the carriage.
Victoria grinned. “The good news my friends is that we now have running water in all three of the MPs—drinking water.”
Bill said, “We brought two crates of empty bottles so that we could fill up here.”
“You could do that if you wish,” Harry said. “I would suggest that those two crates will be lighter to carry back if you fill them up nearer to the other end of the tunnel; at MP-1.”
Calvin said, “Are you sure it will be safe?”
Victoria stood and indicated six numbered bottles on the worktop. “We’ve flushed through all three main supply pipes. These are the latest samples we tested, about an hour before you guys got here. Which one would you like me to drink from?”
“Three,” Calvin said, grinning.
Victoria lifted the third bottle, unscrewed the top and gulped a mouthful. “Refreshing.”
The two recent guests agreed that they’d set up the LEDs in the emergency portals on the way back, and they’d fill the bottles at MP-1, nearest to the coach.
“Before you set off,” Harry said. “As long as you agree to keep it secret for now, I’ll show you both what’s in my other three carriages.”
Bill and Calvin nodded and followed the strange man through the adjoining door to the first of the other carriages.
Calvin paused in the doorway of the next carriage. “Oh, my bloody God.”
9 - Illumination
Day Three
Monday 30th May
Bill and Calvin arrived back at the coach, each carrying a crate of full bottles. When they climbed aboard, many of their companions were dozing. The door had been left open, but the atmosphere within the coach was beginning to taste of stale breath and body odour.
“Paul,” Bill said, “Can we afford sidelights so that everybody can get outside for a while?”
“Easily done—the pack is well-charged.” Paul flicked a switch and twenty metres of the old railway line was illuminated.
“Hello everybody,” Bill said, his voice beginning to sound hoarse from fatigue, and the stress he was feeling, but concealing. “We’ve got enough for everybody to have a full bottle of drinking water, and the lights are on so if you fancy stretching your legs, please collect a bottle as you go outside.”
Steph said,
“What’s the news from along the line, our illustrious leader?”
Bill laughed at Steph’s occasional light-hearted ‘leader’ quip. “Things are improving all the time. Once everybody has had a walkabout and a drink we’ll provide the next update.”
A line of tired passengers made their way forward, collected a bottle and went out to stretch in the area to the front of the coach. Dawn went along to the back to ensure everybody had taken advantage of the refreshment and the exercise.
“Have we really got more improvements?” Paul said.
“Yes, mate, and some of it you will find hard to believe.” Bill gulped water. Though hungry and tired, he was invigorated by merely thinking about how the chances of survival had increased since the discovery of Professor Harry Mason and his abandoned antique train.
For fifteen minutes, Bill sat inside the front of the coach and watched the interaction of his fellow survivors outside. Some were animated, eager to be in conversation and enjoying the simple but essential function of drinking water. Others were content to stand in the company of other human beings, savouring the idea of being alive, while a handful of individuals stood apart, each in their own world. It was unnerving to think that one of them was a killer.
Bill lifted an empty wooden crate as he went outside. He turned the container over to use it as a small platform. Within two minutes, the congregation became quiet and turned expectantly.
Dawn was nearby and whispered, “I think you’ve got their attention.”
“Thank you all for your trust,” Bill said. “I understand that there are those of you who feel excluded. You might believe that there is already some sort of elitist group. Neither of those scenarios is accurate. At some stage in the future, we may decide to appoint a leader or leaders, but let me remind you, for now, I am a temporary spokesman. We must have a committee so that there is no sense of a dictatorship. In this way, as a community, we’ll control each other.”
“Well said,” Paul turned and nodded to the others, and several voiced their agreement.
Bill smiled and more for effect than need, enjoyed a drink of water from his bottle. “I promised that we’d keep you all up to date, and I must ask that you bear in mind the dangers of the tunnel I talked about earlier. Please don’t set off into the darkness.” He paused and looked at the faces, illuminated by the lights of the coach. “Harry, our local professor and hermit, is responsible for us having drinking water. Thanks to the efforts of Harry and a couple of our own people, we now have an ongoing supply of drinking water.”
“It can’t last forever … how can you say ongoing, yeah?” A question from the man with the easily-recognised accent.
“It’s Craig, isn’t it?”
“Um … yeah.”
“Before I go any further with my update,” Bill said. “I’d like to propose that Craig, our friend from Liverpool, becomes a member of our committee.”
“What?” Craig’s response was immediate and loud.
Bill grinned and looked straight at the younger man. “If we have a hint of negativity in our committee, it will prevent us from getting too carried away. A pessimist on the committee will act as a vocal braking system.”
“I don’t think that’s very—” Craig’s next outburst ended as heads nodded all around.
Bill winked at him. “Welcome to the committee, Craig. Now, as I was saying, our water is ongoing. The source is a natural spring within the mountain. To make it easier to understand, there are regular maintenance rooms throughout this tunnel, and each one now has a clean and operational tap with running water.” He paused. “The toilets now have a water supply, but the compartments will have to be cleaned by a couple of brave souls before use.”
A quiet murmur built up until conversations broke out between people within the group.
Bill waited for silence. “Thank you.” He looked around them again. “We have a basic and limited lighting solution throughout the tunnel and in each of the MPs as we refer to the maintenance rooms. Some of them are equipped with what was emergency sleeping quarters, so while not bedrooms as such, they would be more comfortable than our coach.”
Another murmur started but quelled rapidly when Bill paused for another gulp from his bottle. “Harry has been growing vegetables, and is willing to share all that he has with us—”
The gasps, exclamations and conversations were all louder at the mention of food.
“If he doesn’t share we’ll just have to—”
“Let’s go along there now—”
Bill raised his left hand and flicked the switch on the powerful flashlight, blinding several people who were getting over-excited. He aimed the light slowly across the whole gathering.
“Nobody is going anywhere, and if I hear any threatening behaviour, we’ll single you out. Personally, I’d have preferred to deal with conduct and good order after we’d dealt with survival, but if anybody disagrees, just say so.”
“Okay, we get the idea.”
“Switch off the bloody light.”
“Okay, okay … we’re listening.”
Bill continued to play the light around into their eyes. Every person was shielding their eyes from the beam. “I understand that this is all difficult to accept, but if you guys continue to interrupt, it will take longer to explain.” He flicked off the flashlight which had been a spontaneous control technique in the dimly lit surroundings near the front of the coach.
The area was once again only illuminated by the sidelights of the coach. Now, to the left side of the spokesman stood Paul and Alan, and on the right were Calvin and Craig. It became so quiet the loudest noise was breathing and the occasional slurp from a bottle.
Craig shouted, “Let’s listen up and let the man continue, yeah?” He turned to see Bill smiling at him and despite Craig’s previous attitude; he grinned at the spokesman and nodded.
“Go on, leader,” Steph shouted and laughed. “We’re listening.”
Bill smiled at Steph and continued. “Harry doesn’t have much along there because he was planning to live alone. As I said, he’s happy to share and become a part of our group. Hopefully, you’ll all appreciate the need for rationing of everything.” He paused and gave them a reason to listen. “Who would like a potato and maybe a carrot and some greens for their next meal?”
A few gasps and a cheer went up, and a few people sobbed with relief.
“If we are to continue advancing in our new circumstances, there is going to be a lot of frustration. We’ll get through it with some understanding.” He looked around and could already see people crying, but with a comforting arm around them.
The majority of the people who stood there in the semi-darkness were relieved but some were still confused. As much as Steph tried to maintain her light-hearted ‘leader’ jibes with Bill, the whole experience remained a culture shock to most of them. The tunnel was dark and oppressive.
“I’m finding this as hard as you guys,” Bill said. “We have a lot of organisation to be completed. Before we go to the next stage I’ll remind you that we must look ahead to a slow, but steady progression. Today, we have water, and later we’ll all eat more than a snack bar. Later still, most of us will have somewhere to lie down to sleep.”
The silence was now more deafening than the earlier outbursts. A hand was raised from among the group.
“Yes?” Bill said and focused on the middle-aged woman.
“It’s Jean, and this is not an important question, but … could you tell us what type of food the professor … Harry has at his location?” Jean’s manner and speech were sufficient to demonstrate that she was a polite and educated person.
“Oh, Jean,” Bill said in a cheerful tone. “Now, you’re testing me. I remember he has potatoes, carrots, onions, celery, lettuce and … oh, heavens, I’m sure there were peppers, tomatoes, and turnips otherwise known to some of you as swedes.”
“Thank you.” As she forced a smile, Jean wiped tears of relief from her face.
Bill no
dded to Jean and looked around. “Harry doesn’t have much, but I’ve seen how he lives and works along there, and he needs our trust. That man will help make the difference in how long we continue to survive.”
“Bill.” It was Chloe, the young woman in Forestry Commission overalls. “Does he have any herbs?”
“He does, Chloe. Harry has grown several, but don’t ask me to remember them.” He was pleased to hear a few stifled laughs. “We shared herbal tea when he introduced us to his set-up. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” A little more laughter followed which Bill was sure related to relief; not humour. “Before I get lost with more questions, I’d like everybody back onboard except the committee. Please remember, if you have to leave the coach, book out and take a companion.”
Ten minutes after the update, the majority of people were on the coach, chattering excitedly about what they’d heard. Out to the front of the dimly-lit vehicle stood Bill, Paul, Dawn, Calvin, Steph, Alan, Chloe and Craig.
Steph pulled the wooden crate over to sit near the sidelight of the coach, and she turned her notebook to a new page before nodding to Bill.
Bill kept his voice low. “Are there any opinions on how that update came across?”
“You did well, mate,” Calvin said and nodded in his usual positive way.
“Enough information and a subtle reminder of the danger we’re in—well done,” Alan said.
Craig nodded. “Speaking for the negative minority, I felt better about our chances by the time you’d finished. I’m sorry about being such an arse earlier, yeah?”
Bill smiled. “Anxiety in our circumstances is natural, Craig, and it stems from fear. If there were any people among us who didn’t sense fear, I wouldn’t trust them.” He extended a hand, and it was gripped by Craig in a firm handshake.
“Thanks, Bill, and you can count on me to do my bit whenever needed, yeah?”
“Yeah, mate.” Bill nodded. “I’ve kept a couple of points for this meeting so we can create some sort of plan. I’d like to give everybody something to build their confidence in what lies ahead.” He turned to the author sitting on the crate. “Let us know if we go too fast, Steph.”
