Trapped

The sky weeps, it’s tears pitter-pattering on the roof as the crowded train I sit in speeds along the tracks. I turn my head just enough to see the fog outside. A grey blanket covers London in sorrow.

We turn a corner and head into a tunnel.

It happens too fast to process, my mind goes blank as a screeching noise rings in my ears. People fall around me. Screams fill the air with terror. I feel a sharp pain somewhere in side me when my body is yanked upwards.

My eyes open to a blurry scene; rubble, bodies, metal and worst of all a crimson liquid gathering in a pool on the floor.

I stand up slowly and lift my head, red droplets falling from my face. Someone near me moans, I look down and see a woman with a pole sticking out of her chest, a dark patch slowly spreads across her clothes. She reaches up to me and I grab her hand. “Help... me...” She manages to say with blood spilling out of her mouth. She coughs and chokes then her eyes glaze over.

My fingers tremble as I lift my hand and close her eye lids. 

What’s happening?

Remembering what I was taught in university before the winter break, I stumble through what used to be the train and treat each person, gathering the wounded and bringing them out of a smashed side of the wall where we enter the tunnel.

Grown ups, couples, even children and parents sit huddled in the dark grasping each other with fear as I keep bringing more and more survivors into the tunnel. 

I reach the cabin where the driver sits and call out, there’s no answer. I walk forward and attempt to open the door. 

“There’s no point.” A voice speaks in the dark from behind me. I swivel around on my left foot, heart beating a million miles per hour. “That‘s the door to the back of the train. People don’t drive these things anymore.”

A man walks towards me, he seems to be in his thirty’s. Bristle outlines his face, kind eyes stare back at me.

“Thank you.” I say. He just prevented me from breaking down the door only having found out that I was wasting time.

“No problem.” His smile catches me off guard, it reminds me so much of my father’s. I smile back shyly and move to get past him. He follows me through the train.

“My name’s Jacob by the way, Jacob Jones.” He holds out his hand to me, I take it. 

“I’m Sally, Sally Smith.” We grin at each each other wildly. Time slips away as I shake hands with a new friend.

“But then how did the train crash if no one was driving it?” I ask, puzzled.

“I don’t know...” Jacob shrugs and we stand there thinking. How could a train crash when no one was driving it?

After hours of treating the wounded and collecting food and water passengers were carrying with them, the grand total of the living is 23. The amount of supplies we have will only last for 3 weeks, 4 if we make groups and skip meals in turn.

Whoever owns a phone takes it out and we try calling but there’s no reception and my data isn’t working all the way out here. So we just use our tech to tell the time.

A week passes and our food scarcely amounts to 5 meals left. 10 adults and 2 kids who had the worst injuries have died since the accident. There are 11 of us left. I never thought it would go so fast, the food and the dying. We’ve put their bodies in a pile further down the tunnel and covered them up with rubble and loose bricks we could find. But the stench still sits around our nostrils, death repeating: ‘you’re next, you’re next’. 

I give most of the food away to others and end up just having dinner or breakfast. Today, I plan on having none and giving it to the pregnant lady who’s husband passed yesterday, her sobs continue to echo in the gloomy space. Our fire crackles as it’s flames slowly die away.

I lie on the cold hard floor, ignoring the hollowness inside of me that has become a daily taunt from lack of food. The sharp pain inside my stomach that continues to spread gradually up my chest.

We should have been found by now. I repeatedly tell myself. 

Is something wrong? Can’t they dig through the wall of rubble and bricks I found the first day we were trapped here. Both ends of the tunnel are blocked, there’s no way out. But surely there’s a way in? Do they even know we’re here? Do they think that everyone is dead... or what?

“You know...” I look to my left and see Jacob lying beside me, smiling fondly at a distant memory. “I have a family. A beautiful wife and two lovely children.”

He pulls out a picture from his pocket. 

“Is that them?” I ask. He nods and passes it to me.

A plump woman with golden curly locks smiles at the camera and a little girl who has the same hair clutches at her mother’s skirt. Burying her face in the folds. A toddler is sitting on the grass next to them, holding a daisy. They look like the perfect family, I wish I could be a part of it.

Then I notice a face, looking out longingly from an upstairs window. Sad eyes stare down at the family. A dark fringe pushed back from his face, quite like Jacob’s. Who’s that? I think, Maybe a guest or - no, it’s a kid, a boy. He looks maybe 12 or 13.

“Who’s that?” I point at the boy in the window.

Jacob grabs the photo and stuffs it back into his pocket, “No one.”

I lay my head back down and close my eyes. I don’t have the mental capacity to worry about the boy in the picture right now. And anyway, it’s none of my business. The pain inside of me is making me weaker every day. I haven’t checked my stomach yet. I don’t want to. What if there’s nothing there and it’s just my imagination? I know that being a doctor and helping others means you have to take care of yourself too otherwise you won’t be able to do what you want to do most. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. What if there is something there and I’m hurt? I won’t be able to keep doing what I’m doing if I think I’m going to die. It’s better not to know. That’s what I keep telling myself. It’s so annoying, because I’m so weak. I wish I could just accept that if I’m going to die then I’m going to die and I should continue helping everyone for as long as I can. Even if it’s only for a little while and I die in the middle of treating a patient. But I just can’t look. I just can’t. So I don’t.

“Hey! HEY!” Feet scramble around us as people shout ‘stop!’.

I jump to my feet to see what the commotion is about.

A man runs ahead into the darkness, I can barely see what he is carrying. Then I realise what he cradles in his arms; most of our water and food.

“STOP!” I scream at the top of my voice. He stumbles for a second and the others catch up to him. They throw themselves on top of the man and grab our supplies back, someone curses as some of the water spills. 

I rush over toward the group of huddled men, Jacob not far behind me.

“Where’d you think your going? Huh? Huh?!” Clyde yanks the thief’s head back and I see that it’s dear Mr Willings, a kind man who helped me share out the blankets we found. He’s thrown back down on the floor. 

Mr Jeffrey joins in, “There’s no where to go. Both ends are shut. We’re trapped! So don’t go stealing our food and water when there’s no where you can go.” People start kicking him and beating him with anything they can get their hands on.

“Stop.” I pull at Mr Jeffrey’s sleeve, but he yanks it back and I fall to the floor. Strong arms pull me up from behind. I turn to see Jacob, his face white and blank with expression. “Jacob?” I ask cautiously. He doesn’t look at me but turns around and walks away. 

Mr Willings’ cries and the men’s grunts as they beat him echo around us. I put my hand forward to stop them, but take it back and walk away, just as Jacob did. He’s right, there’s nothing we can do. It was obvious something like this was going to happen. I just didn’t expect it to be Mr Willings who stole and fellow survivors who kill him for it. Wails of ‘no!’ surround us and children’s eyes are covered. 

Another week passes, 6 more die. It just leaves Millie the only child, the pregnant lady Lily Wells, Clyde, Jacob and myself. We still haven’t been found, our food has all been eaten except a mouldy sandwich I hold in my hand and our water is only two bottles away from being finished.

I sit down next to Jacob. He’s silent for a while, then speaks quietly. “The boy in the picture.” He starts slowly, “He’s my eldest.”

I listen as he explains, “His name was Lucas. He died last year.”

“Oh.” I whisper back to him, “Do you mind if I ask how?”

He pauses for a moment, then carries on. “He was bullied a lot. I didn’t know about it. He’d come home from school every day and when I’d ask how it was, he’d say it was fine. Then he’d go up to his room where he’d log online, and was probably bullied there too until dinner was ready and I’d call him downstairs. All that time I’d be laughing and smiling at my quiet, shy boy, not knowing anything, until one day he didn’t come back home. The police found his body in the Thames. They said it was suicide.”

Hours crawl by and I begin to get restless. I have this gut feeling telling me something’s about to happen. I get up a pick up the lighter we use for our fires; all our devices’ batteries have died by now. I flick it on and walk the tunnel to the very end, back to the blocked wall. I rest my hand against the rubble. A small breeze rushes through a gap somewhere and blows out the flame in my hand. I whisper into the darkness, “I’ll get out, we all will.”

I wake to find myself leaning on the brick wall. The one at the end of the tunnel, my hand resting over my chest. I move to get up but wince as the pain shoots through the whole of my upper body. I double over, gasping. Tears gather in my eyes, flooding out like waterfalls. The agony is so intense I think I might faint. My adrenaline rush that I’d kept over the past two weeks has now evaporated. There’s no more food and just enough water to last us a little while. 

I pull up my top and through my tears I see the huge dent in my stomach. Blackened and bruised to the touch. I cry out in shock.

“Sally?” A voice calls through the pain, “Sally, are you okay?”

I wince a second time before forcing myself to straighten and wiping my eyes dry. “Yes, yes I’m okay.”

“Oh, good.” We stand in silence for a few minutes. “I know it’s hard, but I promise we’ll find a way out. I promise it’s gonna be okay.” 

I look at this man, one I’d love for a father and I believe him. “Thanks.”

We walk back to our little camp and find everyone weak and agitated, they’re eyes have a fierceness to them. I stare at everyone for a while until I understand the animal likeness I see in them. We have no more food left. But we do have a meat source.

Like beasts we scramble and scratch our way to the pile of dead bodies. We throw the rocks away from on top of them and drag Mr Jeffrey’s corpse back to the fire.

Those days pass and we become more and more acquainted with cannibalism. At least there isn’t any arguments about it. We just cook and eat what we need and drink the few drops of water we have left. I hate to admit it but human doesn’t taste too bad. I mean, if you’re starving and there’s food, nothing tastes bad. But we are out of water now and that’s not a good sign. I know that everyone’s thinking we could drink the corpses’ blood or our urine or something, but it’s such a revolting idea that we keep putting it off. Eating humans isn’t something you’d call not disgusting, but drinking blood and urine sounds much worse than eating a less commonly devoured species of meat.

Our lips are chapped and our mouths are dry. But there’s also a grinding noise faintly chipping away in my ears. 

“Can you hear that, Jacob?” I look at him and I can see he’s concentrating on something too.

“Yes.” We’re walking skeletons but still we all peel ourselves away from the floor and stand up. We limp towards the ever growing noise. Suddenly a rock shifts and there’s a loud bang and the end of the tunnel explodes. There’s light everywhere seeping into our eyes, hands and faces. It’s too much to understand everything that’s happening. Did they find us? Are we saved?

Being in the dark all this time has made our eyes vulnerable to bright lights, yet here we are with white piercing our pupils and we all moan covering our eyes. Jacob tilts near me. Or am I the one tilting?

When I move, my stomach and chest shoot a sharp pain through me like the time when I saw the horror on the upper half of my body. I double over crying out and slam into the cold, hard floor.

“She’s breathing.” Says a voice. Am I dead? “Hello, can you hear me?” I open my eyes and immediately squint then shut them tight again – my eyes still haven’t adjusted to the brightness.

“Turn down the lights.” A male voice says, “Now can you open your eyes again?” 

It takes me a few moments, but then I look around the space I’m in. It’s dimly lit but I can see white walls and white creatures, no, bodies in white cloth, no, plastic. They’re humans. Where am I?

I look down and see I’m underneath a blanket on some bed and there are these cables strapped to me. I try to lift my hand but it doesn’t move. 

“You must be confused what’s going on. We gave you sedatives so you won’t be able to move for a while.” My brain starts working again. But my eyes are still droopy. A woman’s voice speaks, “Can you tell us what’s the last thing you remember?”

I moan and whimper as I rack my brains for an answer. Then there it is. The tunnel, the dead bodies. An explosion and something blinding. 

“Light… lots of light… and… and…” Lily, Millie, Clyde and Jacob – 

“Jacob… Jacob, is he alright? And the others? Where are they?”

“They’re fine, don’t worry.” She takes my hand and I feel the tension releasing inside of me.

“Can… can I see them?”

“Soon, you have to rest first.” 

That’s all I remember until I wake again.

I’m still on to the bed in the white room with the cables in me.

I hear some people talking but I can’t hear what they’re saying. I sit up which means the sedatives have worn off. I’m about to get out of the bed when the pain hits me again and I fall to the floor. A nurse rushes in and calls for doctors straight away. They put me back on the bed and open the hospital gown I’m wearing, revealing a white bandage and cast covering the upper half of my body. I’m confused. Why is the dent covered up? I look at them questioningly.

“We had to perform surgery otherwise you’re alimentary canal could have been damaged even more.” They mean my insides, my guts. They’re damaged. What’re the consequences for that? Do I have to stay in the hospital for a long time or what?

“I know it’s a bit soon, and it may come as a shock... but we did what we could to help and the estimated length of your life is still narrowed down to just one year... -” 

One… one year? What? One year left to live?...

There voices drift away. My brain stops working. I sit there, alone, everything disappears. One year. That’s how long I have left to live.

A month passes and I’m now leaving the hospital. Lily Wells is having her baby and Millie is going back to her parents. It was her aunt she was travelling with. Clyde’s going to work again and Jacob is going back to his family. I met them, and they were perfect. But they still had their eldest boy commit suicide, and that has scarred their family for life.

I’ve bought a house in the country, and when I get there I can’t believe my eyes. It’s spring now, so all the flowers have begun to bloom, the mountains are snowy the and rivers are crisp and fresh and the waterfalls splash a lullaby each night I lie in bed.