“Please help us!”
“All those people are dead!”
The same soldier from earlier addressed the crowd: “There’ll be another train along in a minute. Please remain calm.”
“Can we still use the track if that train is on it?” said a middle-aged woman carrying a toddler.
The soldier held out his hands. “Yes. It’s been diverted onto another track and it’ll be dealt with. There’s no need to panic.”
“Thank fuck for that,” said Magnus.
“What if our train has infected on it?” said Joel.
“It’s either that or stay here,” said Ralph.
Joel looked at him, said nothing.
The sound of a train approached the platform.
“Get ready,” said Frank.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
The rain lessened and became a drizzle against the windows. The train groaned and picked up speed as it headed out of Salisbury with its four carriages packed full of human cargo.
Parts of Salisbury were burning. The sky above the city was bloated by the smoke rising from the fires. The refugees had been crammed onto the train; the aisles were filled, swamped by people holding onto seats to keep their balance. A silence descended aboard the train, allied with relief, misery and a little hope. The smell of dirty bodies, wet hair and waterlogged clothes; the mutter of prayers spoken behind entwined hands. The sense of relief was palpable, but it was tempered by fear and anxiety. Whispers of quiet elation, guarded like secrets. The odour of stagnancy was so thick it had a pulse.
Ralph watched a young boy sitting on his father’s lap, picking his nose and examining the stringy mucus on the tip of his finger. The man called him Sam. Ralph wondered what sights the boy had seen in the last few days; the horrors that had hunted him. Sam glanced at Ralph, blessed with the total absence of adult manners and ego, and wiped his finger on his father’s jacket without his father realising. Ralph forced a thin smile. Boys would be boys, even as the country was falling into ruin.
Ralph pulled his fingers through his scraggly beard, staring at the floor. So many people around him, suffocating him. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and then opened them. Deep breaths. His fingers felt tingly and his heart was punching against his ribcage. Too many people. He had been fine earlier when he was on his feet and his mind was occupied; but now, crammed into this metal coffin, his discomfort with large amounts of people and their close proximity was unsettling him, raising his hackles and turning his mouth dry.
Magnus was sitting next to him. Behind them were Joel and Frank, with Florence sitting on Frank’s lap. The aisle was filled with standing people. A man’s groin was four inches from Ralph’s face, and he kept completely still so there was less chance of his nose or mouth accidentally brushing against something dangling and soft.
“You alright, mate?” said Magnus.
“Fucking rosy.”
“Did you count to ten?”
“First thing I did.”
“Did it help?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“I forgot to let you have the window-seat, mate. Sorry. Do you want to swap?”
Ralph shook his head. “No, I’m okay. Cheers, anyway.”
Magnus patted him on the arm.
Ralph breathed in deeply and took out his stress-ball from one of his pockets. He squeezed it hard. He opened his palm, and the ball was a misshapen lump; it slowly reformed. He squeezed it again until his knuckles had lost their colour.
“We’re going home,” Magnus said. He sank back into his seat. “Never thought I’d be so glad to get on a bloody train.”
“I hate trains,” Ralph said. “Did I already mention that?”
“Yeah, but we’re going home. It seems a bit surreal now, don’t you think?”
Ralph said, “The last few days have been surreal.”
“I thought we were going to die out there. We were lucky.”
“We’re not home yet. Not by a long way.”
“Always the optimist.”
“Always best to expect the worst, mate.”
“And then anything else is a bonus?”
“Spot on.”
“That’s one way of looking at things.”
“It’s the only way, my friend.”
“You’ve always been a ray of sunshine.”
“I try my best.”
Magnus laughed and cleaned his glasses. “Some of the things I’ve seen…” His voice trailed off. He was shaking his head. “Part of me still finds it hard to believe they’re real. I had never seen a dead body before, Ralph.”
Ralph looked at him, let him continue.
“I’ve been constantly terrified for the last few days. Terrified beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It exhausts you, digs into your sanity.”
“You’ve done well.”
“Really?”
“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
Magnus looked puzzled.
“Try to get some sleep, mate,” said Ralph. “A nap will do you good.”
“I am pretty tired.” Magnus looked out the window as the train rushed past fields, houses and roads. “Wake me if anything happens, Ralph.”
“Will do.”
Magnus closed his eyes.
“I’m never going home again, am I?” said Florence. Exhaustion strained her voice. Her lips were cracked. “I’ll never see my house again. I’ll never go home. I’ll never go back to my bedroom and sleep in my bed.”
Frank tried to smile for her. He didn’t want to give her false hope. She would never return to Wishford and her old life. That life was dead.
“Maybe one day we’ll go back there. When this has been sorted out.”
“My parents will never come back.”
“I’m so sorry, Florence.”
“You say that a lot.”
“She’s right,” said Joel. “You do. Stop saying sorry. It’s not your fault.”
“What will happen to me now?” Florence asked. “When the train stops…”
“You can stay with me and my wife. Her name is Catherine. She would love to meet you. I reckon you’d both be great friends. We’ll look after you.”
She eyed him. “Do you and your wife want to be my parents now?”
Her question took him by surprise.
“No one could ever replace your parents, Florence. That wouldn’t be right. We’re just trying to look after you.”
She looked at the floor. “I’m hungry and thirsty.”
“So am I,” said Frank. “We’ll get something when we get off the train.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
Frank wanted to be her father. He couldn’t deny it to himself. He looked at Florence, and his chest felt full of air; but it was a good feeling.
He rested his eyes and shut out the world for a little while. He felt Florence’s weight on his lap, comforting him. It gave him hope to think that such a delicate creature had survived so far when so many others were dead.
He kept his eyes shut and he could almost pretend that Emily was sitting on his lap.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Magnus awoke as the world shuddered around him. The squeal of brakes, like an animal pulped beneath the train. A hard jolt and the shock of recoil. Stillness and inertia. Voices and panic. The cry of a child being hushed by its mother.
He’d been dreaming of Debbie and the boys again. He was tired.
The train had stopped. The carriage creaked. He blinked his eyes clean, wiped them with the back of one hand. He yawned. His back and his legs ached fiercely.
The rain had eased off; only a few droplets on the windows. The other refugees were looking down the train. Disquiet and apprehension. A few whispered words. There was a vague smell of opened pores leaking sweat.
“What’s happened?” Magnus asked Ralph. “Why have we stopped?”