“Hurry up Annie,” said Jack, his voice terse.
Mac raised his eyebrows across the table at Ellie. They had been here for a week, and it quickly became apparent that the relationship between the young girl and her father was strained. Usual suburbs shit, thought Ellie. In the Wilds, out there, they’d have clung to each other for sheer survival.
There was a knock on the door. The sound of giggling outside. Annie stomped to the front door with her packed bag. Jack had stopped taking her to school a few days ago. She wanted to walk with a group of friends. She opened the door. Two older girls and one boy the same age as Annie.
“Have a lovely day,” said Jack, “and remember to be careful.”
“Yes dad,” she said leaving the chalet with a sigh. The girls giggled.
“Do you have a kiss for Daddy?”
The door closed. Jack stared at it for a few moments, still like a stone, his face frozen in the half smile he had offered his daughter, but which she hadn’t seen.
His head snapped towards the table as if suddenly remembering he was with company. “Kids, eh?” he said, the half smile on his bearded face looking even more lost.
“What’s on the table today then?” said Mac, quickly. “You back out on the Fence?”
“Every day,” said Jack.
“I’m surprised they don’t give you any help,” said Ellie.
“There have been a few people, they tried to help, but they… Not everyone is cut out for Fence work,” said Jack. He stared at Ellie, like his brain had been switched off. He mumbled something to himself.
“Sorry?” said Ellie.
“What?”
“You said something?”
Jack shook his head slowly, “No, I…”
Crying from the kid’s room. Ellie jumped up, for once pleased to have her breakfast interrupted by her son’s crying. “I’d best see to Eddy. Have a good day Jack,” she said.
Mac and Ellie walked along one of the central roads. Each side was lined with well-maintained chalet’s. All family size, all with well-kept gardens. Ellie was pushing an expensive pram, Eddy asleep under a few light covers - it was going to be another warm day.
“Proper rich, all this lot were,” said Mac. “Someone telling me these chalets used to cost up to five hundred thousand.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not if you got the money. Great place for kids.”
“I guess so.”
Ellie looked at the pram. She wouldn’t have been able to afford one back in the days before the Fall. It was a community pram. It had been found in one of the empty chalets, back in the early days. A lot of goods: prams, baby clothes, outdoor coats, motorbikes, sports equipment, cooking gear, camping stuff, and untold other treasures of everyday life, had been collected and handed out to people on an as-need basis. The stocks were kept replenished by the daily Runs.
They were on their way to meet James, the Site Manager. Funny he still retained that title, Site Manager, when he was so much more.
“What do you think they have in store?” said Mac. “Time to get jobs, earn our keep?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they need someone to run the pub?” said Ellie, smiling at Mac.
He laughed, “I’ve left those days behind, I reckon.” Although smiling, there was sadness in his eyes. Ellie felt it too and wished she hadn’t mentioned the pub. It reminded her of Angie. She was sure Mac was thinking of her also. She saw a brief flash of sadness in his eyes; a rare but potent glimpse at the core of sadness he carried day and night since his wife had died, just three months after the Fall.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Mac, his voice loud, drowning out any bad thoughts.
“Don’t know if I like the sound of that,” said Ellie.
“Don’t you worry,” said Mac, winking at Ellie.
Ellie didn’t wonder that James was so popular. Somewhere in his late forties, greying, attractive. An air of calm around him. He had taken to the role of defacto mayor/leader/president well, and on finally meeting him, Ellie found it easy to see why.
“Take a seat,” said James.
Mac and Ellie sat down on the couch in his office, opposite James.
“So, Ellie and Mac, and little…?”
“Eddy,” said Ellie. “He’s nearly a year old. I think.”
“Born straight after the Fall then?”
“More or less.”
James nodded slowly. “I can’t believe how hard it must be for people outside the Fence. I’ve been here since day one, and we’ve built ourselves a secure and solid home here. To have been outside, it must be terrifying. You have my eternal awe,” he smiled.
“We just did what we had to do,” said Mac. “Nothing special.”
“It is,” said James. “Don’t sell yourselves short. The stories I’ve heard… Speaking of which, if you don’t mind, how did you come to find us?”
Ellie took up the baton. “Well, on the night of the Fall, me and my husband,” a brief pain at mentioning him, “Ed, we found Mac’s pub. Mac took us in, and things went, wrong…” she faltered.
“Ed had turned,” said Mac. “So, me and Angie, that was my wife, we took Ellie in. Shortly after, little Eddy was born. We had a good ride for a while. Then we had trouble. Some kids causing trouble. They were just kids, but their games got out of hand and…” Mac paused, “and we lost Angie. We moved on. We’ve been moving on ever since, until your team picked us up.”
James allowed a few moments for the gravity of the story to rest back in the room. A few sentences, but so much human pain and suffering contained within such few words.
“Well,” began James, “hopefully you can build a life for young Eddy here. That’s what we want, a place where we can be people again, where we can raise families without having to live like animals. Somewhere kids can be kids. We’ve done some amazing things here. Really amazing. The way people have pulled together, it’s astounded me. I won’t lie, there are challenges. We haven’t been able to get the electricity going, but we have plenty of gas canisters to keep us warm and allow us to cook. Also, the numbers of people arriving now are starting to put us under strain,” he put up a hand, “but don’t for a moment think we don’t want to bring anyone else in, we need to. The more people, the stronger we can be. But we are having governance issues, supply issues, but these are expected growing pains, I imagine, of any society. We’ll work it out, as long as we all pull together.”
“Thanks for taking us in,” said Mac.
James shook his head, “You don’t have to mention it.”
“We do,” said Mac. “And speaking of which, it’s about time we started giving back. Paying our way, so to speak. Never been on welfare a day in my life. Always worked since I was fourteen. If I’m honest, it makes me uncomfortable sitting around all day, eating food that’s provided for us, being protected by others. I guess I’m saying, when can we start getting our hands dirty? You think the same don’t you, Ellie?”
“You can start working as soon as you like.” James pulled out a paper from his desk. “I was thinking-” He paused as Mac was raising his hand.
“Well,” said Mac, “me and Ellie were talking, and we thought, well, we had an idea how we could help. Of course, if there’s something more important, then we’ll do that.”
James put down the sheet of paper. “No, of course, you have an idea, I’d love to hear it.”
“Well,” said Ellie, “we’ve been staying with Jack, and things seem, well, strained for him. He’s…”
“That’s ok,” said James, “you don’t have to explain Jack.”
“Well, we thought we could help with the Fence.” Ellie looked at Mac, and he nodded.
James sucked in. It reminded Ellie of plumbers when they looked at your boiler back in the old days - it’s gonna cost you love.
“We’ve tried that before, with Jack,” said James. “Got other people to help. They don’t last long.”
“Why not?”
“He can be
difficult.”
“We live with him. It’s not a problem,” said Ellie. “I think it would work. Me and Mac can swap shifts so we can look after Eddy, and Annie, if that’s what Jack wants. Maybe since we know him a bit now, well, maybe things would be easier.”
James held up his hands in deference, smiling. “Ok, I tell you what. If Jack agrees, I’ll go for it.”
Jack moved the lamp, its flickering flames casting a shadow puppet play across the room. He spread his map out across the table.
“This is the holiday camp,” he said, looking up at Mac and Ellie as if checking they understood what he had said. Ellie felt obliged to nod.
“As you can see, there is a lot of ground to cover. The camp is a mile long. One edge along the beach,” he traced the line of the Fence on the map that faced the sea. “This side, on the west, is against the woods. The back end here is against the main road, and here we have sand dunes and light woods. The jetty is here, on the east. So, there are over 4 miles of fence, protecting eight hundred and twenty-five chalets.”
He took a sip of his green tea. With the low lamplight and the wind blowing hard outside, Ellie felt she was part of a conspiracy. Planning a great attack to take the nation.
They had waited for Eddy and Annie to go to sleep before broaching the subject of accompanying Jack on his Fence walks. There had been a minute’s uncomfortable silence, punctuated with some mumbling from Jack, then, without saying anything, he had got up, pulled out his map and here they were. Had he agreed?
“Along the beach, there was already a reasonable fence,” said Jack. “It’s been strengthened with panels, wooden at first, but more and more aluminum, and other metals when we can find them. The Runs bring in materials from building sites and stores nearly every time they go out. We’ve got barbed wire along a lot of the length of the Fence, and we have it as high as twelve feet in some places.”
Ellie noted he said ‘we’ a lot, although she didn’t know who the other people were.
He continued. “We use ropes in most places, but they’re failing now. The elements and the salt are getting to them. I’ve noticed weaknesses here, here, and here.” He pointed out some red markers on the map. “I’m after some chains, but, well…”
He stalled, his eyes talking a far-off glaze.
“What about here,” said Ellie, pointing to the woods, trying to kick-start him.
“Ah yes, the woods. We used cars and trucks there mainly. You won’t see many around the camp, but there are plenty out there by the woods. There wasn’t much of a fence there, and that seemed the best way to get something up. Something strong and quick. We’ve filled in the gaps with dirt, concrete, whatever we can find really.”
“A lot of work?” said Mac.
“It was. It is,” said Jack.
“You can’t have done all that yourself?”
“I didn’t. Everyone was involved at first. But most lost interest in the Fence. They just assume it will work.”
“You do a good job,” said Ellie.
“Thanks,” said Jack. He smiled. Put his head down. Pointed at another place on the map. “These marks, I use stickers to mark them out, the numbers represent how important the work at that point is. Ten is the highest, one is the lowest. I got the stickers from an old kid’s book.”
There were five number ten’s.
“With your help, maybe we can get these ones looked at.”
“That means you want us to help?” said Ellie.
“Of course,” said Jack, looking at them both. “It’ll be great. We can start tomorrow. How do you want to do it?”
Ellie, surprised at being asked, took a moment to answer. “We thought maybe one of us could go out with you, and the other looks after Eddy. Does that work for you?”
“It does,” said Jack. “Who’s first?”
“What do you think Mac?”
“It doesn’t bother me, love,” said Mac.
“Ok, then I guess I’ll go.”
Jack looked at his watch. “We’d best get some sleep then. No school tomorrow, so we can get started at 6am. That good with you, Ellie?”
“Erm, sure.”
“Great, that’s all arranged then.” He smiled. He gestured to the map. “Familiarise yourself with it. We’ll be going there, there and there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He backed away from the table and went to his room.
It was a fresh morning. Blue skies, veiled clouds of steam rising off the metal surfaces, the dew from the previous evening distilling back to the air. Ellie and Jack walked through a thin path in-between two chalets.
“Ash and Andy live in that one,” said Jack pointing to the chalet on the left. “She’s the chief Runner.”
Ellie trampled through the sand, trying to keep up with Jack. The path, lined on both sides with a wooden fence, opened up to heaving sand dunes.
“We have a few minutes of sand dunes. It’s hard on the legs. But works as an extra barrier. Any attack from the beach would be slowed here. The zeds are pretty useless at walking on sand. Always falling over, and pretty useless at getting up.”
Ellie stumbled up the dune after Jack. Her feet churned in the deep and dry sand. She wore a backpack weighed down with tools. Within minutes her quads were crying out in pain. Marrow grass stabbed through her jeans.
Jack, on the other hand, had no trouble. He bounded up the dunes in broad, powerful steps. He reached each peak well before Ellie, where he stopped and waited.
“You’ll get used to it,” he said.
Eventually, one peak led down to the Fence. It looked like a third world shanty construction. All mismatched panels, small, large, square, rectangular. Wood, metal, plastic. White, red, black, blue. Tied together with rope in most places. The glint of chains here and there. Lower sections covered in barbed wire.
She descended the dune and struggled to keep her balance as the sand slipped from under her feet, and her heavy backpack pulled her to the left and right.
Jack was by a wooden pole, with two pieces of aluminum panels on either side. The pole was eight foot tall, the two layers of panels reaching a further two feet. The panels were attached to the poles via ropes through holes in their sides. Angled stakes pushed up against the plates, a final construction to counter any outside force.
“We have those plates on the other side too.”
The ropes were frayed, and the panel leaned away from the pole to leave a diagonal gap.
“This is the problem,” said Jack. “The salt, the wind, the rain, it gets into the ropes. They don’t hold for long. One of the zombies gets here, it pushes and makes the gap a bit bigger, I find it, kill it. Then tomorrow another one makes it a bit bigger again. Before you know it, you have yourselves a problem.”
Jack leaned down by the hole and took his back-pack off. He took out a knife and a long reach of rope.
“We’ll need to cut this rope, fix it, pull the panel back in line and then tie tight. Probably do the same again in a few months. Unless we get the chains.”
He worked quickly, assuredly. A different man from the one she had so far seen. Gone was the mumbling, the shyness, the uncertainty. This was his land now, out here, alone in the elements with his Fence.
He cut off the rope and threw it to the side. “Best pack that up. Kids find it, and they might get into trouble.”
“Kids come here?”
“They're not meant to come this close to the Fence, no one is. But they do. Of course they do.”
He cut off a new length of rope with his knife.
He threaded it through the hole.
A hiss. A thump on the other side of the metal.
Jack let out a cry. A hand had reached through and gripped his shoulder. He pushed at it and pulled back, falling onto the sand. He backed away, holding up his hand. “Get it away!”
Ellie pulled out her own knife. She walked to the gap in the Fence and grabbed the zombie’s arm to stop it from clawing at her. She peered through the gap. An old woman
, or what used to be, with a rotten jawline and face coved in dark bruises. Ellie quickly stuck her knife through the gap into the zombie’s head. It shook for a second, then fell limp.
Jack was still on the ground, breathing heavily. “Is it dead?”
“It is,” said Ellie.
He stood up, eyeing the gap. “They don’t usually get through. As long as they don’t get close to me. That’s all. As long as they don’t get too close.” He edged to the gap in the fence and peered through. “They don’t usually get the jump on me. I must have been distracted, with you here.”
He didn’t make eye contact with Ellie. He picked up the rope he had dropped and went back to threading it through the fence.
He didn’t say thanks.
Andy sat down next to Ash, placing the tray of drinks on the table. It was Friday night, and sitting in the Tulloch Bay holiday park bar, Andy almost felt back in the world before the Fall. The bar was full, there was a gentle hum of conversation, punctuated with bursts of raucous laughter, staccato shouts of lively discussion, and through it all, hung the smell of beer and cigarettes. Alcohol aged well and was one of the staples brought back on the Runs. It was rationed, a measure put in at the start to try and stop the proliferation of alcoholism that seemed inevitable during those first few bleak months. As with all things though, the full spectrum was represented. A black market had sprung up around alcohol, people swapping out their allowances for favors or foodstuff; and of course, there was nothing to stop people from just going outside to raid the local bars if they fancied the risk. Some did, and a few heavy drinkers were regularly lost that way.
But most enjoyed getting drunk of a weekend, to relax, bond, laugh and cry. There was the talk of opening another bar; given the addition of so many new arrivals, the original bar was getting full.
Andy and company had arrived early to make sure they got a table. Ash and Andy’s last Run had finished mid-afternoon and their companions, new arrivals Harriet, Arthur, and Adam, had yet to be assigned a duty, so the bar seemed the place to unwind.
The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker Page 7
