by Matt Shaw
No service.
Damn. She said she didn’t want me in her life. She said she wants me gone but if I could just talk to her now to make sure she was okay. Make sure they were both okay and - if they were… I could explain what was happening here. Let her know that, if she doesn’t hear from me for a while, I was safe and that I loved her.
She wouldn’t care. She doesn’t love you.
Maybe - if I could talk to her - she could explain what was happening here? Maybe there’d be something on the television? Something on the news channels? I looked behind, past the last few people sitting behind me, and out of the back window. A moving line of buses, all of which seemingly full from what I could see. Something had to be on the news. They couldn’t keep this from getting out even if it were a military operation. Someone would report it.
Still no service.
I turned to the woman, “Do you have a phone?”
She shook her head, “They wouldn’t even let my son bring his ted.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?”
“I’m sorry - I really don’t know.” She probably didn’t need an answer. She was probably just looking for someone to talk to as a distraction to what was happening and the feeling of loneliness that we were all feeling right now - plucked from our lives - but my mind was all over the place and I was finding it hard to be polite. Nigh on impossible to be a shoulder to cry on for someone else. It was hard enough knowing I had to be supportive of David when he was awake. It was fine knowing I was going home in a couple of days, to try and fix my family after being there for him to say goodbye to his wife but… Everything has changed and I’m feeling sick.
“I’m scared,” the woman said.
I looked at her and could see she was. It was in her eyes. Fear. I tried to give her a reassuring smile. She smiled back. Neither of us were feeling comfortable or reassured but then how could we be? Sitting at the front of the bus, with the driver, is a man with a gun who wasn’t saying where we are going or why and yet he had been quick enough to point his weapon at us.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” the woman’s son had woken up and was tugging at her sleeve. A look of desperation in his eye.
“Okay, baby. I’ll ask.” She called down to the front of the bus, “Excuse me, sir?” To his credit, the soldier turned around. “My son needs to go to the bathroom.”
“We’ll be there soon enough. Just hold on.”
“Can’t we just pull over?”
“No.”
I looked away, back out of the window David was still leaning on - out for the count. We were driving through another housing area. Each street we passed by - more and more buses getting filled with people plucked from their homes.
What the hell was going on?
“I’m sorry, honey, you’ll just have to hold it a little while longer.”
Considering the people behind this operation were probably wanting to keep people calm, this was not the way to handle us. We’ll be lucky if the night doesn’t end in a full-on riot, protesting about how we are being handled. I have a feeling things are only going to get worse from here on in. Looking back to my brother, I feel envious that I’m not sleeping as soundly as he is. By the time he wakes up - we might have some answers as to what is happening and he would have avoided any of the further unpleasantries that I am sure are brewing. So much bad feeling, fear, paranoia and worry on this bus.
It’s a ticking time bomb.
Chapter Six
Violence was in the air. David and I were at the front of the gathering crowd. Behind us, angry voices and in front of us, soldiers armed with little facts and maximum ammo. I was talking to one who looked as though he’d not long since been out of college. He looked flustered, a redness in his face which showed the hard-man image he was trying to portray was nothing but a front. A bad one at that. He looked weak.
“We didn’t ask to be brought here,” I was telling him. I wasn’t shouting. I was speaking in a matter of fact tone. I work with hard-nosed businesses day in and day out and I know, the moment you raise your voice - you don’t get anything that you’re after. You try and keep things calm between you and them, try and pretend to be their friend - you can usually try and win them around. “It’s my brother’s wife’s funeral tomorrow. We can’t get on that boat, you understand?”
We were at the docks. Two large cruise-liners were moored up with soldiers pointing people to where they could board. We had been instructed to get off the bus and onto the ship but still with no reason as to why we should listen. Needless to say - it was kicking off. People wanted answers and it was to be expected. Why would we leave our homes and jump on a ship without knowing the reasons why? Especially when most of the homes had been left unlocked and filled with our possessions. It made no sense.
“And I don’t even live round where we were picked up. I’m visiting only. I have a family waiting for me.”
“Everyone needs to get on the boat.”
“Mate, you’re not listening. We’re not getting on the boat without answers. You understand that right? You’re asking people to leave their homes, leave their pets… Jump on a boat with no reasons as to why we should. It’s ridiculous. Just tell us what is going on. If it as serious as you lot are making out, I’m sure the people will listen but all the time you’re playing the ‘classified’ card - you’re just upsetting people.”
“Further instruction will be given when everyone is onboard.”
I turned to David and laughed out of frustration, “He isn’t listening. None of them are.”
“I’m not leaving. My wife’s funeral is tomorrow,” David tried but the soldier looked at him blankly.
I felt a push behind me as someone else tried to come forward to say their piece. I stood my ground. They can get stuffed until I’ve got the answers I am looking for.
“Okay - look - if you can’t tell us what is happening and why we should get on this boat - not forgetting the question as to when we will be getting home - I’m just going to walk away and get a taxi back to my own home.”
The soldier shook his head, “There’ll be nothing for you, the whole country is getting evacuated.”
“What?”
“What are you talking about?” David asked. “What about my wife? I’m supposed to be burying her tomorrow. What the fuck is going to happen to her?” At the moment her body was laying in wait somewhere, waiting to be moved from the funeral home to the church for the service. There was no way I was going to be able to get David on a boat with his wife just left to rot there, missing her own funeral. “We were told we would be gone a few hours - back tomorrow at the latest and now you’re trying to get us on a boat and telling us the whole country is being evacuated… What the fuck is going on?”
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s classified.”
David lunged for the soldier and I wasn’t quick enough to stop him. His fist connected with the young grunt’s cheek, spinning him down to the floor with the heavy force you’d expect from someone who - back in their younger years - used to box competitively.
“David - NO!” I tried to pull him back but the other soldiers charged in to protect their colleague.
In the blink of an eye everyone was getting involved. Punches from behind and punches from the front as frustration turned to violence just as I had predicted. People were shouting obscenities at each other with most words getting swallowed up in the general noise. Some people were screaming. One of the nearby bus drivers was leaning on his horn to get the attention of the other soldiers who hadn’t yet noticed the commotion - for whatever reason.
In the middle of it all - I was trying to defend myself from getting caught up in the middle of it all when - suddenly - I felt a hand on my shoulder. A heavy tug from behind spun me on the spot just in time to see a fist coming towards me. Clenched. Fast.
Nothing.
I I
I opened my eyes. Damned head was pounding like a
son of a bitch. I have no idea who had hit me, whether it had been one of the soldiers or whether I had been caught in the cross-fire between an angry member of the public aiming for one of the army men.
“Where are we?” I asked.
I was lying on a narrow bed in what appeared to be a large hall filled with make-shift beds. David was sitting on one opposite me with his head in his hands. His eyes were fixed on me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
He looked as though he’d taken as much of a beating as I felt I had received. Slowly I turned onto my side and then, slower still, I moved into a seated position with my feet on the floor.
“Go steady,” David said. “You hit the floor hard. I was worried.”
“I’m fine. Just a bit sore. Did you even see who hit me?”
He shook his head.
“What happened? I mean - what did I miss?”
“We’re on the ship. Been at sea for a few hours now. To be honest, I thought you were going to sleep right through until morning.”
“We’re on the boat?” That uncomfortable sickness returned to the pit of my stomach once more as thoughts flitted to my wife and child. “I don’t want to be on the fucking boat!” I felt myself start to get angry so took a couple of seconds to try and calm myself. “Are there at least any phones we can use? I need to call Jane.”
He shook his head again. “Turns out this ship isn’t quite the luxury cruise liner it appeared to be from down on the docks. Very basic.” He explained what he had learned whilst I was out of it, “They’re evacuating the country. They haven’t said why. Taking us to America of all places. Apparently they’ve set up a camp for us over there…”
“A camp?”
David ignored me and continued, “They’ll be registering all of us, along with where we’ll be stationed out there so if family members do crop up then they can be reunited.”
I sighed, “That’s something then.”
I’m not sure why they were pulling us all out of the United Kingdom, or who was even paying for such a mission but at least they had promised to reunite family members. As soon as we get there, I’ll put my name down and go wherever they told me to - so long as word got to my wife if she wasn’t there already.
David started to cry, “She’s just laying there,” he said. He was referring to his own wife. “They won’t get her for me. They’re just leaving her to fucking rot.”
Shit.
I didn’t know what to say to him to make him feel better. The country was being deserted but to David - all that meant to him was, his Helen was being abandoned. Left to rot without a proper burial.
“Say something,” he begged of me.
I shrugged, “I don’t know what I can say,” I admitted.
We both sat there. A silence between us ruined only by the quiet weeping of some of the other scared passengers, quietly being reassured by their partners or parents - all just as concerned and upset as the other, all waiting to find out why this was happening to us. What could have happened to force us out of the country?
T O D A Y
Chapter Seven
I threw the picture against the wall, shattering the glass frame as tears streamed down my face as I relived the night I had been forced from my family. As soon as the bulk of the frame landed on the floor, I regretted my actions. A house previously untarnished after all that had happened and yet the first person to come in here for God knows how many years smashes something, destroying someone’s memory.
Who cares? It’s not like they’ll ever know.
I set the near empty tin of sweetcorn to one side and got up from the sofa, dropping to my knees in order to start picking up the fragments of glass. Even if the previous occupants don’t ever know what I had done, I’d know. Putting the glass onto the coffee table, I couldn’t help but laugh. Things I’ve seen, things I’ve done… And yet, here I am cleaning up after myself in what was, for all intents and purposes, a ghost house left to collapse under its own weight.
Doesn’t matter.
I gave a final look at the picture of the happy couple and muttered, “Sorry.” I was tired. It had been a long hard slog to get to this point and I still had a way to go. I guess my temper - well, emotions in general - are quick to flare. I’m no good to anyone like this. My best bet is to sort myself out and go to bed.
Bed?
I stood up straight and hurried from the living room, up the stairs and into the first of the bedrooms I came across. An instant feeling of joy when I spotted the large, double-sized bed with the warm, thick duvet over the top. A perfectly made bed. It had been a good few days - maybe even a week - since I’d seen a bed like this to sleep in and, instantly, I felt a little hope seep into my very being. Funny the things you see that make you think, you know what - everything is going to be okay.
A full-sized mirror hanging on the wall distracted me. Or rather, the sight of myself distracted me. Downstairs I had the pictures to look at so had paid no attention to the mirror. In here though - a bed and a couple of cupboards - there was nothing to stop me from noticing what I looked like.
I look like Hell.
My black cargo pants are filthy. There’s a rip in the left knee. My black jacket is just as dirty but has stood the test of time better than the pants. It’s my face that is distracting me more though and causing more concern. I look dreadful, my skin deathly pale where you can see it. My cheeks and chin are buried under a bushy, tangled mess of a beard. Black bags under my eyes reminding me once more of my brother, the last time I had seen him. The whites of my eyes tainted a slightly pinkish colour - no doubt from both my earlier weeping and the general tiredness I was feeling.
I barely recognised myself.
It’s okay. No reason to get upset. Nothing a quick wash and a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix and speaking of sleep - the sun will be going down in a few hours, I need to be prepared.
I spent the next half an hour or so gathering bits and pieces I needed to make myself more comfortable when the light disappears. I’d found a bottle of water in the kitchen (and had drunk most of it), found some candles in one of the kitchen’s many cupboards, after testing the electricity and finding it was off, I’d tested the water and was pleased to see what it was still working and I’d taken some scissors from kitchen to bathroom where I’d started cutting back the beard, ready to give myself a proper shave with the toiletries I’d stumbled across when taking an earlier leak. I was already started to feel more human.
It’s the little things in life.
Soon enough I was lying on the top of the bed with a candle illuminating the room now that the sun had gone down. I’d removed my boots and socks (heaven) and already rifled through the bedroom drawers for fresh socks. Words cannot describe how heavenly it was to be able to kick off the boots and bin the socks. Airing your feet, after days and days of solid walking - bliss.
I hadn’t stripped my clothes off although in the morning I would do so after finding suitable alternatives in the wardrobes. I was so tired that one more night in the same clothes wouldn't make a difference. In the morning I’ll have a proper wash and change them but right now - I just wanted to catch up on sleep.
Something else about this new world - you never sleep naked, or stripped down, because you never know if someone is going to interrupt your sleep. The last thing you want is to be caught with your pants down. Nothing good about fighting people off with everything swinging out there in plain sight.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I allowed my body to get swallowed up in the comfort of the bed. Already my eyelids are heavy and hard to keep open. Hopefully I’ll be sleeping soon and - better yet - I won’t wake up until the sun comes up in the morning.
I quickly sat up for a split second and extinguished the candle with a quick blow before setting back down, head on pillow. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was smiling to myself like an idiot. I was still a long way from home but I felt something I’d not felt since forever
. I felt hopeful.
The fact that the cupboards were stocked with food suggested to me that edibles might not be as scarce anymore. As I edge closer and closer to the town - having made it through the countryside - things might finally be getting easier.
Vehicles.
All these untouched houses. One of them might have a car, or something, I can use to make my journey even easier. There’s no might about it. One of them will have a car. Imagine that; no more walking. Instead I could just jump behind the wheel of a car and drive on out. I’d be there in next to no time. I’d be home. I grinned wider as I closed my eyes for what would be the final time this evening.
Don’t forget the promise you made to your brother.
Worry about that later. Tomorrow I’m going to hunt for a car. At least, I’m going to hunt for a car that works. I’ve passed many cars since being back here but time hasn’t been kind to the batteries and I haven’t been able to get them started. I can’t get my hopes up. Chances are I will find cars tomorrow… Doesn’t mean they will work.
Still worth a look.
I I
High-pitched screaming startled me from my sleep. I sat up alarmed. My heart thumping so hard that it hurt and adrenaline rushing through my veins. A woman was standing in the doorway - fear on her face as she continued to scream loudly. Before I had a chance to say anything, she was pushed to one side and a man burst into the room with a bat raised high, ready to be swung down upon me.
“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
The man and woman from the picture - although time had not been kind to them.
He was waving the bat around wildly. I raised my hands up in front of my face in an effort to defend myself on the off-chance he went to hit me. The woman was screaming still - not just as sound this time but as words pushing him into hitting me.
