The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker

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The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker Page 3

by Cross, Stephen


  “Annie’s great,” said Jack, “she’s settled in well at the school, got a little group of friends,” Jack paused. “I just…”

  “Worry about her? Understandable, especially after what happened. Nothing like that since?”

  Jack shook his head, “No way. She’s terrified of going out of the holiday park now. Fence is more secure too. No more gaping holes like the one she crawled through that time.”

  “You do a good job there,” said James, nodding his head.

  “I guess that’s why you wanted to see me? I knew you’d understand.”

  A brief frown passed over James face, confusion.

  “The chains, Ash mentioned the chains to you?” prompted Jack.

  James shook his head, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  Typical. “For God’s sake… I need chains to hold the new panels in place, they’re already breaking. The ropes are stretching due to the weather. I had to face-pole one of the zombies yesterday, hanging around outside it was. They get their numbers up around there and they’ll be in, remember what happened last time they got in? Or some kids’ll escape. What happens if someone’s kids get out?”

  “Jack! Ok, calm down,” said James, his voiced raised, his hands patting the air. Jack realized he had been shouting.

  Jack took a few deep breaths. “So I’m not getting the chains?”

  “I don’t know anything about any chains.”

  “The Fishers say they need them, to secure the boats. But if we lose the Fence, then it doesn’t matter if we have any boats. It’s a simple matter of priorities.”

  “Have you spoken to the Fishers?” said James.

  “No. I don’t think that they-“

  “Try talking to them, Jack. We’re not a big government here. We’re all on the same team. Explain it to them.”

  “But, Sam is so unreasonable, he just-“

  “Talk to them Jack,” said James, the exasperation apparent in his voice.

  They sat in silence for a minute. The old clock on the thin peeling grey walls ticked.

  “Ok,” said Jack. “I’ll try talking to them.”

  “You may be surprised,” said James.

  Jack was sure he wouldn’t be. “So what did you ask me here for then?” he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. James was one of the good guys. He tried to remember that.

  James didn’t answer straight away. He looked flustered, tired. Jack felt a shot of guilt. He was meant to be his friend, and here he was being just another one of his problems.

  “Sorry, James.”

  James smiled. “Don’t worry about it Jack, seriously, it’s fine.”

  James picked up a piece of paper from his desk and looked at it. “The new arrivals, Jack, every week now, nearly every day.”

  “Things seem a lot busier around here,” said Jack, “that’s for sure. Used to be I’d never see anyone on my Fence walks. But there’s a lot of people out by the Fence now these days. You may want to mention that in the next meeting. It’s dangerous.”

  “New people?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this wave of new arrivals we’ve been having,” said James. “For six, eight months after the Fall, we didn’t have many people arrive, did we? Now, this past three months, there’s been a massive influx. What I think is people are grouping, getting themselves together, pulling themselves up by their bootstraps. Past mere survival now. People are looking to better their existence now, looking for places to stay permanently. And a lot of them are ending up here.” James leaned forward on the desk. “This thing is, Jack, they’ve been out in the Wilds for months, fighting and dodging those things, hiding every day, scavenging food. Eating rats and pigeons for fuck’s sake. They’ve been doing things that we can only imagine. Things are different here, to what they are outside. And the new arrivals… They’re different to us. People are noticing the differences.”

  James paused, sighed, then continued.

  “I can’t say it's not causing problems,” he said. “You know there was a fight the other night, at the bar? The voucher system has been working for months. People appreciate we can’t have everyone getting hammered every night, that alcohol is in limited supply. One of the new guys though wanted more. Took three of ours to get him off Kev.”

  Kev was the barman. One of ours. Them, ours. Divided we fall.

  “I just need you to know the landscape, Jack, given what I’m going to ask you. I trust you, you’re strong.”

  Jack let out a small snort.

  “No really, I know what it’s like to lose someone. The way you look after Annie. You’re a good guy.”

  Jack was looking at James, but he was only half listening. The other half of his mind was back at that first night of the Fall, his car’s wheels spinning, the swarm of dead surrounding his wife. Annie screaming in the back seat.

  James continued. “We need to start sharing the accommodation.”

  Jack’s heart hammered on his rib cage. Shot of adrenalin. “What?”

  James held out his hands, an awkward expression on his face. “We’re running out of room. We have well over a thousand people here now, and only 800 chalets. I’ve given Ash orders to get some tents. I don’t know what else to do.”

  His chalet, thought Jack. His and Annie’s. For nearly a year they had lived there quietly. He had a place for everything.

  “What about Annie? She won’t like it. You said these people are dangerous, James,” said Jack.

  “That’s the thing, the people I have in mind, they arrived the other day. A man and a woman with a baby. She has a baby, only a year old. He was born just after the Fall. A miracle they’ve survived with it. They're not a couple, from what I see, so you don’t have to worry about that, erm, side of things.”

  “I have to check with Annie. We don’t really have the room. She’s struggling James, she needs the space.”

  “You have one of the biggest chalets in the park, Jack.”

  “We need it!”

  “People have been talking, Jack,” said James, raising his voice. He closed his eyes and sighed.

  “What have they been saying?”

  “Nothing really,” said James, his voice low. “Just, you know, the two of you, that big chalet. Other people have taken others in. It's not just you.”

  “What about Peter and Mary?” said Jack. “Can’t they take them?”

  “They’re taking someone already. It's affecting us all Jack. Even me.”

  “Then we need to stop taking people in, we need to stop them,” said Jack. “Leave them out there!”

  James didn’t reply.

  Silence again. The ticking clock. Time always moved, forward, never-ending, dragging the world from an immutable past.

  James motioned to the paper. “I’ve met them, Jack. They’re nice. Mac and Ellie. The little boy is called Eddy, loveliest little thing.”

  “How do we know Annie will be safe?”

  “Look, how about you meet them. Can they come around for dinner or something? They’re in a tent at the moment. It’s too cold for the little one. Just meet them, Jack, what do you say?”

  Time with a hook in his back, yanking him forward through the terrible world. “Ok, James, I’ll meet them.”

  In retrospect, it wasn’t the best time to go and meet the Fishers.

  “Come on, Sam,” said Jack.

  “No come on about it,” said Sam. He used to be called Fat Sam, but he wasn’t fat anymore (not many people were). Remnants of a double chin hung from his face, warbling like the gills of the fish he caught. Grizzled stubble. Dirty blonde hair and a wizened face from years of sea salt, brisk wind, and sunshine.

  “If we don’t have the Fence, then we don’t have the holiday park. Think about the kids.”

  “And if we don't get the fish, we don’t have the food. Think about the kids, Jack,” said Sam, smirking to the small group of fishermen busying themselves with loading a boat in the holiday park’s smal
l harbor.

  “The ropes aren’t going to hold,” said Jack. Why did no one understand this, why did no one listen?

  “Like they didn’t for our boats. Another storm, these boats go and we starve. Simple as that.”

  “Then tie them properly!”

  “You tie your fucking fence properly!” shouted Sam, frowning. He paused from throwing a pile of nets into the small boat beside them. “Don’t you come here telling me my lot aren’t doing their jobs. We tied those boats, but the ropes snapped clean.”

  Sam was staring at him. A half smile on his face. Disdain. Like the boys in the school-hall had looked at him. Like everybody pretty much did. Ash didn’t even listen to him. And now James wanted to take his home away.

  Jack’s face was cold, ocean spray from the marina dousing his skin in a thin sheen of cold water. Dark grey clouds, always grey. Everything always grey.

  Sam shook his head. “Just fuck off Jack, ok? Just fuck off before you get yourself in trouble.”

  Laughter from the group behind.

  Jack swung at Sam.

  He’d never had a fight. He’d never punched anyone. He was surprised at the pain in his hand. That was the first thing.

  The next was the panic, the adrenalin. His body was on fire, it was like he was watching his actions from afar, unable to do anything to guide himself. There were no decisions, only actions.

  Sam’s face, wide in surprise. No sign of him falling over, of him retreating.

  Sam swung, fast and straight.

  Jack’s world was black for a second, and when he came too, he was on the floor. There was no pain. Just the grey of the sky.

  Words were being shouted. Laughter from nearby. Cheering, no, jeering.

  He lifted his head, Sam was standing above him.

  “Who the fuck you think you are?” Sam kicked him, hard, in the side of his stomach.

  There was pain now. Shot through his body like a bad medicine.

  Another figure above him, one of the Fishers, Jack didn’t recognize him. Maybe one of the new’uns. He kicked too.

  Sharp pain and blackness, he had been kicked in the head. He saw stars, really saw stars. Dashing white and yellow lights in front of his eyes.

  “What the fuck?” someone shouted. “Pack it in, now!”

  Everything quiet again.

  When Jack opened his eyes, he was in Ash’s chalet. He and been there before. He recognized the huge statue of Ganesh that sat by the useless electric fire.

  “How you feeling, Jack?” It was Andy.

  Jack had a headache, a real zinger. Like a terrible hangover. He felt nauseous. He was on the couch, lying down. He tried to sit up, his sides shouting out in pain.

  “Christ, everything’s sore.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Andy getting up and walking to the kitchen. He brought Jack a glass of water. “The Doc is on his way.”

  “I don’t need to see anyone.”

  “You got a pretty good kick to your side. You’ve got a pretty nasty bruise there. Could be internal bleeding. And your head.” Andy shook his own head, “You received a punch, then a kick or two, and you were concussed. No way I’m not getting the Doc to have a look.”

  “Ok, whatever,“ said Jack, taking a sip of water. He was fine. If it kept Andy happy though.

  Andy shook his head. “What happened? I mean, I know Sam is a bit of a hot-head, but Jesus. They were giving you a right kicking. Sam said you started it?”

  Jack didn’t answer.

  “Jack? Did you start it?”

  There was a knock on the door. “Hey, Andy, it’s Jag, you there?”

  “Sure, come in,” said Andy.

  Jag, the Doc, entered. “You ok, Jack?” he said. Even though it was the apocalypse, the Doc managed to look presentable, more so then everyone else, anyway. His hair was short, his shirts clean. Who wants to be treated by a scarecrow? he had said once.

  The Doc sat down and gave Jack an examination.

  “From what I can tell, it’s all superficial. You’re lucky. Have some of these, you’re going to have a hell of a headache for a while. Stay in bed for the next three days.”

  “I have to get back to the Fence,” said Jack.

  “No, you don’t. This is serious, Jack. Doctor’s orders,” said Jag smiling. “What happened anyway?”

  “He’s not telling, are you, Jack?” said Andy. “Got in a scrap with the Fishers.”

  “All of them?” said the Doc.

  “Might as well have been,” said Andy.

  Jack pushed himself up, grimacing at the pain. “A few days in bed you say?”

  “Hold on,” said Andy. “You not want to stay for a bit?”

  “I need to get back. Clean myself up before Annie gets home.”

  A few protests followed him as he left Andy’s chalet. He raised his hand, not looking back.

  “They said at school you were trying to fight Carl’s dad?” said Annie. She was sat on the couch, her head down, playing with one of her jigsaws.

  ‘Hey, don’t worry about what they say at school,” said Jack. He kneeled down beside her, hiding the pain. He put his arm around Annie. “So what you doing there? What’s the jigsaw of?”

  Annie moved a few of the pieces around but didn’t answer.

  “Anything wrong sweetheart? You want to tell Daddy want’s wrong?”

  Annie shrugged. “Yeah,” she said then continued to move jigsaw pieces around the floor.

  “Come on Annie, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  “They laugh at you. At school.”

  “Who laughs at me? What do you mean?”

  “Other children. They laugh at you. They call you names.”

  “What sort of names?”

  Annie didn’t answer.

  “Annie?”

  “Leave me alone. Why do you have to walk around the Fence all the time? The zombies aren’t getting in! They wouldn’t laugh at Mummy if she was here!” Annie jumped up and ran to her bedroom.

  Jack pushed himself up, but he could only move slowly. His head swam and his torso was stiff with pain.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Annie’s bedroom door slammed shut.

  “Hello?” said a man’s voice from outside. Another knock. “Jack, is it?”

  Jack held his hands to his head. Fuck it all.

  He limped over to the door and opened it. A man and a woman, carrying a small baby, stood at the door. The man was large with the affable face of someone who had enjoyed most of life, or at least tried his best to. The woman, much younger, in her mid to late twenties. Thin, tired looking. And the child. On its way to being a toddler. Nearly too heavy to carry, but too young to walk.

  “I’m Mac,” said the man, smiling, “and this is Ellie and little Eddy. James said you were expecting us.” Mac eyed the bruise on Jack’s face. “You ok?”

  “Yeah,” said Jack. “I’m fine. You want to come in?”

  Ellie sat down on the man’s couch. Jack, he was called. Scruffy beard, dirty hair, clothes ragged. Looked pretty different from most people at the Holiday camp she had seen - they looked like they were really on holiday. Clean hair, clean clothes; the usual trappings of civilization she thought she would never see again. Not Jack though.

  “Do you want a drink?” said Jack. He didn’t make eye contact. He shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Some water would be nice,” said Mac.

  “You not want a cup of tea?” said Jack.

  A cuppa. Just like that. Mac’s eyes lit up, he playfully nudged Ellie on the arm, “A cuppa, fancy that, eh, luv? All a bit fancy around here, ain’t it!”

  Ellie smiled. It was just like Mac to get overly excited about a cup of tea.

  Eddy started to cry. Ellie pulled up her top and let him feed.

  “You want that tea then?” said Jack, looking at Ellie, then quickly looking away when he saw what she was doing.

  Ellie looked around the room, taking in the large chalet. Its wooden wal
ls, its retro kitchenalia. The dining table, the sofa. The fancy kitchen with the Smeg fridge and hob. Wide patio windows took up one whole wall, leading out onto decking, surrounded by hanging bare trees.

  “It’s amazing here. This holiday park,” said Mac. “Can’t believe our luck. You’ve really got yourselves sorted.”

  Jack responded with a muffled confirmation. He brought over the drinks and placed them on the table. He sat on the single sofa, where he sipped on his tea, his eyes carefully avoiding either Ellie or Mac.

  “So,” said Mac. “James said you’re in charge of the Fences, keeping us all safe. Important job, I’d say!”

  Jack nodded. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”

  “You been here since the start?” continued Mac.

  “The first night,” said Jack, quietly.

  “Fell on your feet in this place, eh?”

  Ellie thought that Mac’s previous life as a publican would have given him an insight into when people didn’t want to talk. Maybe it did, and maybe Mac didn’t care.

  Eddy finished feeding and Ellie prised him off her breast. She pulled her top down and sat Eddy beside her. About a year old now. Sitting up. Crawling. She hoped now they were here, with some perceived modicum of safety, that his first words wouldn’t be ‘run’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘shhhhh’.

  Eddy burped.

  Mac let out a hearty laugh. “You let it out, little fella!” He picked Eddy up and gave him a big hug. The baby laughed back.

  Ellie saw a small smile on Jack’s face.

  “Jack, you have a daughter, don’t you?”

  Jack made fleeting eye contact. “Yes. She’s in her room. Annie’s her name.” He tried to hide it, but his face lit up. Sadness there too. Who wasn’t sad, though?

  “Do you think she’d like to meet Eddy?” said Ellie.

  “I don’t know, she’s very tired and…”

  “It would be nice to meet her.”

  Jack sighed. “Yeah, sure. Maybe it will cheer her up.”

  They walked to her room. Jack knocked on a bedroom door. “Annie, there are some people here who’d like to meet you.”

  No response.

  “Annie, they have a-”

 

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