by Stevens, GJ
With Tommy’s pull on my hand, I glanced back, but I couldn’t see the soldiers. The optimism soon fell away when another blast filled the air, chased by a single gunshot.
I sped, but had to slow when Tommy couldn’t keep up.
Above the tops of the houses opposite, I saw the first signs of the trees rising higher than the roofs. With adrenaline rushing and a desperation to pick Tommy up and run faster, I slowed at the sight of my friend’s house and their little white Ford in the driveway. The front door of the house stood wide with what looked like blood splattered up the cream walls inside.
They must have come home from their trip early.
What choice did I have other than to run to the building splattered in blood where my best friend could lie dead or maimed by someone caught up with the madness? Or where he could be alive?
If I raced in would there still be someone inside who would attack me? What would I do with Tommy? The soldiers were on their way and I already knew they wouldn’t hold back their explosives and guns for someone my age. I didn’t want to test if they would for someone of Tommy’s.
But could I run past his house and risk leaving my friend to die?
Glancing back, I still couldn’t see soldiers around the curve, but I heard what sounded like the hammering of something heavy against wood, taking me back to the many police programmes I loved to watch and the Big Red Key the police used to knock down front doors.
But that was all about crime, drugs or wanted people, not breaking into their homes to kill them in case a disease from the water or in the air had overcome them.
If I was well and I felt fine, Tommy too, then there would be other people. Cowithick had a population of around three hundred. The same fate couldn’t have overcome them all. I just couldn’t believe we were the only two left.
Rushing across the road, still holding Tommy’s hand, I glanced to the right to make sure we didn’t put ourselves in the sight of the soldiers making their way toward us. Avoiding the view of the blood along the white of the wall, I couldn’t help but stare at the trail as it climbed the single step to lead to the dark carpet inside.
My stomach tightened and it felt as if my breakfast would empty to join the blood. I tried to lift my legs and rise to enter the house.
I couldn’t bring myself to. Instead, and to the sound of hammering at a stubborn door down the road, I called out with the paltry amount of breath I dared to spend.
“Paul?”
The sound came out so light and I tried again, but it wouldn’t rise any louder. I felt so afraid of everything around me and I just wanted to run.
I closed my eyes, trying to build up the courage to call out again, this time with volume.
His name stopped halfway when I saw a Nike Air trainer with a foot inside on the floor at the end of the hall, the ankle leading out of sight.
I knew it was Paul’s trainer and when I heard a noise coming from inside the house, I could do nothing more than turn and run away, dragging Tommy behind.
As I ran, the guilt made me feel so heavy and the thoughts pulled me down. I couldn’t help but think I’d not seen what I thought I had. Perhaps someone had borrowed Paul’s shoes and the noise was from him trying to signal me.
Already regretting not going into the house to check, I knew it was too late. If it wasn’t him on the floor, then I’d sealed his fate. I could have been his last chance, but I was running off to save myself and Tommy.
Between the next house and the one after that, a significant gap of grass waited with a dirt track beyond. It was one of the many routes dog walkers would take to get to the woods or the green belt surrounding the village.
As we arrived, we headed down between the houses, but I pulled up sharply, coming to a stop when I saw the normal view of the ploughed fields or rising corn was blocked with a line of battered metal fence panels. Looking closer, in the small gap between each I saw the large square lumps coming up to waist height to weigh down each support on the other side.
8
I shuffled forward, looking left and right, letting go of Tommy’s hand with a quick glance to make sure he still followed.
I looked over every surface of the fence, wondering if I could scale it whilst wishing they’d put the concrete blocks on this side to make it easier.
I glanced to Tommy and he looked back, his brow raised with a question. Maybe I could have climbed over, but I wasn’t sure if Tommy would have the strength even if I boosted him up.
At the edge of the back of the house and about to come out of the safety of the brick cover on either side, I looked both ways along the gardens and down the gap between the fence and the end of each of the small plots of land. With no new danger, I turned, whispering for Tommy to wait.
I hunched over, stepping lightly before rushing to the end of the garden.
Glancing to either side and seeing nothing to hold me back, I moved up to the panels which seemed so much taller up close. I couldn’t even reach the top, despite being nearly six foot. I was a long way off being able to grab at the edge.
Shaking my head and with hope fading, I looked down to a finger-width gap between the metal and the grass.
I touched at the metal, pushing against the cold with the palm of my hand. The panel moved away, then stopped as it hit against the concrete block on the other side. I leaned in with my shoulder, pushing with all my weight, but it held firm.
On the edge of tears, I felt a movement behind me. Spinning around, panicking when I couldn’t see Tommy waiting between the houses, there he was at my side with his shoulder pushing against the fence.
His gesture seemed to warm me a little inside. I stopped pushing and shook my head at him, forcing a smile as he stood upright.
“We’ll find another way,” I said in a whisper, watching as he nodded, blinking rapidly.
I thought about getting a car and ramming it through, questioning if it would even work. Looking back on the path we’d taken, there would be no chance of getting a car between the houses. But there were other places I could try, although I couldn’t remember if there were any that would break out close to the woods. And all this without being spotted by the soldiers.
With my hand still against the panel, an explosion rang out in the air, the pressure rumbling through the metal. Pulling my hand away, I looked down to Tommy peering up, his pale face mirroring my panic. Then his expression changed as the echo died. Ignoring the calls in the background, he raised his hand, grabbing mine from my side and gripping hard.
Nodding, I tried to take on his hope, despite the deep sounds coming from all around. The clatter of panels. The distance calls. Heavy boots against the tarmac. An explosion and occasional gunshot. Each sound amplified by the fence and reflected into the village.
My mind wandered to the sound wave experiments we’d done with string at school, followed by a rush of panic that I still hadn’t started revision.
I thought of the school. I had another week off until the end of the holidays but then I realised I may never have a normal life again. Or a life at all if I didn’t get my act together.
Despite the growing feeling of helplessness as I looked along the row of gardens, each empty beyond their low fences, I peered down the alley I’d come through. Looking that way and with a lull to the noise, there was nothing to show what was happening all around us.
A scream cried out, breaking my trance, the call echoing in the distance, leaving me feeling so exposed in the open space. A new panicked cry came, deeper than a woman could make, but the voice was soon replaced with the rush of feet. An explosion followed, sounding so close, then the shatter of glass. I took hope there must be other people who had survived, although I knew each moment that passed their number would shrink.
I couldn’t think about them; I had to worry about myself and Tommy.
Still staring out between the houses, my heart sank as with a heavy engine sound, what looked like a small tank drove across the narrow view.
Lo
oking down to Tommy, his limp smile told me he’d seen it too. I turned away, the need to find a way out of the village growing with every moment.
Gripping Tommy’s hand tight, we ran along the backs of the gardens, the short fences at the end of the gardens to our left and the tall metal fence always present to our right. With each step I looked to the back of the houses, hurriedly searching for anything of use; something to help us climb or somehow get through the metal.
I peered to the sheds of all sizes, each with their doors shut up and a heavy padlock across the front. I imagined the tools inside, thinking back to the collection of junk my dad built up before he died; a collection Mum still hadn’t been able to throw away, despite Dad being gone for three years.
His memory forced my legs to slow as I tried to push away the thought of how things would have been different if he was still around. He would have taken charge. Dad would have known what to do without question. He would have kept Steve and Mum safe and would have told me exactly how to act.
But he wasn’t around and I had no choice but to shake away the thoughts, pushing down the anger that he was taken away so early in my life. Instead, I concentrated on looking around the curve of the houses, slowing when I knew we were getting near to where the semi-circle met the other end of the road out of the village.
Seeing scaffolding wrapped around the back of a house, I stopped. The Jamesons’ place. They were having their roof redone. I remembered the news relayed by Mum a few days ago, the perfect example of the level of excitement I’d give anything to get back to.
But there it was, a ladder fixed to the inside of the scaffolding and exactly what I needed to get us to the safety of the woods, if it hadn’t been bolted down.
9
A new metallic drumming sound called into the silence. Half expecting to see a soldier checking their handiwork with a slap of the hand, I ducked down, guiding Tommy with me as I looked along the line of gardens.
When it wasn’t a camouflaged figure in a gas mask I saw but a man in a dark business suit and red shirt who looked like Mr Jackson, the bank manager from a few doors down, I almost stood up again. He’d come into view along the fence-line, picking himself up from the grass as if he’d fallen into the metal panel.
“There,” Tommy called before I thought to keep him quiet.
The man looked in our direction. With his hands limp by his sides, I was sure it was Mr Jackson heading our way.
Elation rose as he drew closer and I stood when every step reassured me it was the man my parents had introduced me to. Someone like him would know what to do. He’d know how to get us out of this mess.
Still without hurrying, he headed our way. I wanted to call out and make him rush, not knowing how long it would be before the soldiers found us. But he remained calm, pushing one foot in front the other as if his legs hurt.
My smile grew at his composure, but as he drew closer, I realised what I thought was a red shirt was actually an apron of blood around his neck.
Before I could look any more, he tripped, on what I couldn’t see, but he fell to the grass. As he rose, a great flap of skin hung from the back of his neck, slapping against raw flesh as he tried to get to his feet.
“What the hell?” I said, then gripping tight to Tommy’s hand I turned, pulling him along until his little legs caught up. I didn’t look back, running the way we’d come whilst glancing to each of the gardens as we rushed past.
We ran to the sound of Tommy’s questions, slowing only as we passed the place where we’d come between the houses. We jogged a short while for Tommy to catch his breath.
Then I saw it. A gap between the houses I’d not noticed before; a gap wide enough to get a car through to smash out the fence metal and get to safety.
Fighting to fill my lungs, and despite not knowing how to drive, the car seemed like the best option now. All I had to do was find one, get into it, work out how to drive and do it all without being attacked by the crazed villagers or shot by the soldiers.
But what else could I do?
Energised by the quickly forming plan, and with a glance back to make sure we’d left Mr Jackson far behind, I ran between the houses. Dragging Tommy along, I stopped only as we came to the edge of the brickwork.
I peered to either side, reminding myself where in the street we’d emerged. Not seeing any movement along the road or at any of the houses, I turned my attention to the parked cars. There were a lot to choose from.
Looking back to the fence, I tried to visualise the biggest car that would fit between the giant blocks.
Turning around, I crept forward, mindful to check on either side before focusing on each of the driveways.
I wasn’t big into cars, probably because my dad hadn’t been. He’d had a BMW when he’d died, but we got rid of that. My mum had a small runabout to get to work and do the shopping in. It was affordable, she said, and easy to drive. We didn’t need anything fancy.
Almost half of the cars were similar to Mum’s Ford, but although the smaller cars would be simpler, I couldn’t decide if they would have enough power and weight to get me through the fence. A smile raised on my lips as an equation from my textbooks came into my head; force equals mass times acceleration. The bigger the car and the faster it travelled, the more likely we would be to bust through the metal, snapping the links between the panels so we could race to the woods.
The smile stayed when I wondered if my physics teacher ever had that use in mind.
If only I knew the weight of the car, perhaps I could do the calculation to save my life and revise at the same time.
I laughed, looking down to Tommy as he peered up. He frowned back as if wondering if the stress had sent me round the twist.
Shaking my head to brush away his concern, I looked back at the cars in search of the biggest. If I could master the controls, perhaps I wouldn’t need to stop at the woods, instead driving straight across the fields to the main road.
Admiring a red four by four gleaming on the drive a few doors down, memories from a few months ago flooded back; Mum telling me how excited the Williams were to get their new car. I felt the press of guilt, but with it came a tinge of wickedness and excitement at the thought of taking their brand-new car and smashing it through the fence.
I just had to get the keys and figure out how to drive before the soldiers came to take the place apart.
I’d made my mind up, but the front door was closed. About to tell Tommy to wait as I tried the handle, I heard an engine to the right.
There was a tall green truck coming around the curve of the street with six or more soldiers running alongside.
Freezing to the spot, we watched as they stopped and pushed open the gate of the nearest house. Knowing what would come next, I turned, guiding Tommy back between the houses.
After counting along the row, we stood at the short wooden fence outside the rear of the William’s place. The tidy garden was mostly grass, much like the front. I looked to the shed, its door locked with a large padlock. Beside it stood a light-green storage container. In the centre of the grass was a round pond with a nozzle rising in the middle, but the pump was quiet with no water spraying out to splash the large rocks.
The handle at the back door didn’t move as I pushed down. I had no idea if it meant the Williams were safe and sound inside, oblivious to what had happened this morning. How could anyone have missed the chaos, the sirens, gunshots or explosions?
I hoped instead they’d gone away on holiday, perhaps not wanting to leave their shiny new car at the airport. Or had they already run out to the madness, locking the door behind them?
Either way, if I wanted the car on their drive, I would have to find out. A distant explosion echoed from the other side of the house.
There was no sign of movement beyond the blinds over the kitchen window or the curtains across the rest. The frosted glass in the top half of the back door would only let me see the light coming from the front.
“Go hide by
that box,” I whispered to Tommy as I crouched.
He looked back, his eyes wide with alarm.
“It’s okay,” I said, forcing a smile as I pulled a Kit Kat from my pocket. His expression relaxed and he took the chocolate before turning to run between the shed and storage box. Grimacing at whatever I couldn’t see, after a pause he crouched, leaving only his round face and mop of hair in view.
Turning away, I hoped I wouldn’t regret not bringing him with me.
With a step to the water feature, I took a smooth grey rock the size of my fist and headed back to the door. Giving a gentle tap at the frosted glass, I cringed at the sound, edging back as I waited for something to happen. I wasn’t sure if I paused for the glass to shatter or for someone from the village to charge out from nowhere and attack.
Either way, nothing happened and I stepped back up to the door, raising the rock a second time.
Checking again beyond the frosted glass, I reassured myself I’d seen no movement. They must have been on holiday and taken a taxi to the airport, spending Christmas and New Year somewhere hot, or somewhere cold. Skiing perhaps?
The Williams had two children. A girl and a boy, both a few years younger than me. Young enough that I barely spoke to either of them, especially as they went to the posh school half an hour away.
Posh school. They must be skiing. I tapped the window with the rock, harder this time, letting go as it went through the pane, sending glass shattering to the floor.
Pulling my hand back, I held my breath as I waited for anything to react to the terrible sound.
10
When no shadows moved across the other side of the front door, I looked back to Tommy who’d raised his head and peered at the missing glass. I stared to Tommy for a moment longer until he ducked down below the cover. I turned back to the door just as the remaining shard slipped from the frame, shattering to the floor.
Despite the fear of who could be the other side, I knew I had little time to worry. What could be worse than doing nothing? What could be worse than being found hiding by a soldier and shot without explanation, or attacked by one of my neighbours?
