Into the Night

“Jake, mate, you alright?”

I looked up to see Chuck standing over me, eyes filled with concern as I took the hands away from my face. I managed to give him a weak smile.

“Sure man, sure. Just...you know, a bit wired. Freaked out too.”

“I bet.” He slid next to me. “We’ll be safe in here, don’t worry.”

We heard a clanging coming from the tunnel, and both of us turned to look at the entrance. The others didn’t move their heads, absorbed in their own conversations. The lad who had guided us here appeared (within a few minutes) at the entrance to the room, carrying our bags with him. Behind him was a girl a couple of years younger than us, with chin length, choppy black hair and wide green eyes. She gazed at us all, biting her lip, teeth clanging against the metal ring she wore there. Her legs were barely covered by a tight black skirt, fishnet tights stretching from her big black boots and under the aforementioned skirt. She wore a simple t-shirt on top, with a fairly newish punk band’s name across it.

I found myself swallowing, glancing nervously at Chuck, whose eyes were currently scanning the girl.

The lad made his way over to us, placing the bags at our feet. He gestured to the cigarettes in there. “If you want, you might want to come up for a cigarette now. Just in case,” he threw a hand in the direction of the family, “they might not want you smoking in here.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” Chuck stood up, a hand sweeping through his hair. I grabbed the packet from my pocket, lighter along with it, and walked with the boy back through the tunnel and up into the fresh air. It wasn’t until we got outside that we noticed the girl had followed us.

“Mind if I cage one?” She asked, eyes on the packet. I shrugged, handing one over to her. She gave me a sad smile. “Thanks.”

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” The boy asked, looking at Chuck. My mate nodded, and took a few steps away from me and the girl. I looked at his retreating back, watching as the boy started talking, Chuck started nodded. My attention quickly returned to the girl, who was now taking a long drag on the cigarette and exhaling very, very slowly.

“I’m Jake, by the way.” I muttered, feeling more nervous in front of this girl than I had in front of any other, for a long time.

“Madison.” She drawled, holding the cigarette in her left hand as she offered her right one to me. “You don’t look Army, I’m guessing your mate over there is?”

“Chuck? Yeah, ex-Army now.”

“Sweet. My cousin’s that stupid prick.” She nodded her head at the lad, whose small black device, hooped into his belt, now let out a crackle. “He convinced me to come here. I didn’t want to mind.”

“Why not?” I asked, feeling strangely intrigued by this girl.

“Because if the world is going to end, I kind of want to end with it.” She took another drag, leaving me searching for something clever or witty to say.

I’d been to University, I had a 2.1 in History, why wasn’t I smarter with these things?

An old song my mum used to listen to came into my head.

Back at school they never told us what we needed to know, like how to deal with despair or someone breaking your heart.

Or how to talk to girls, who were incredibly hot.

I knew how to talk to girls, well most girls anyway. I’d learnt, at University, to pick the girls who were considered a rank either above or below me. Girls I had a chance with. All preconceptions from school were stripped away; I learnt to face, after a few rejections, that I would not get the hottest girl. Not that I didn’t get the pretty ones.

But they were nothing compared to Madison.

“I mean, what’s the point,” she carried on, “if there is nothing else left?”

I pretended to consider the answer as Chuck and the lad did a short sprint towards us.

“Get in.” The lad cried. “Now!” The last part was more of a bark, and both Madison and myself threw the cigarette ends away before scrambling into the hatch and down the ladder.

A sense of urgency had taken over us, and we practically ran down the small corridor, bursting into the chamber and causing alarm to light up on everyone else’s faces. I took the nearest seat and sat on it, once more putting my head in my hands as I tried to regulate my breathing. The lad slipped in and started talking rapidly into his black machine, moving over to the shelves so we couldn’t hear him. My eyes landed on Chuck.

“What’s going on?”

“He was told to get inside, everyone has been given the same order. But no one knows why.”

“Do you think it’s started?” Madison asked, and for the first time I saw fear reflected in her pretty green eyes.

Chuck glanced uncertainly at her, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I don’t know.” He finally replied, sitting down next to me. Madison sat the other side, fingers tapping against her knees. I stared at her hands for a few seconds, before something occurred to me.

When I was a kid, maybe about five or six, I was terrified that something would happen to the house and my family along with it; a fire, a flood, a bomb, the monster in my closet. My mum’s tactic was to talk to me about different things, to distract me from this. She’d ask what I was reading in school, she’d pull out my favourite book (which changed every week) and ask me to tell her what happened. She’d talk to me about what television I’d seen that day, what current Blueray I liked the best.

(Usually it was some Disney film, the old ones, I told mum time and time again, were the best. My favourite was Aladdin, and she’d told me that had been dad’s favourite when he was younger. I’d scoffed, told her not to be silly, it wasn’t around then. I was shocked when she told me the year it was released. Her favourite, she said, was Lion King. And I’d learnt not to question how old it was.)

The point was, she distracted me by talking with me about things I was interested in, things I liked. Soon I’d forget about my current worry and drift off into a (fairly) peaceful sleep, disturbed sometimes by nightmares. But my mam would always be there to comfort me and once more distract me.

So, I decided to employ the same tactic with Madison.

“Just out of curiosity,” I asked, still eyeing her hands elegantly beating out a regular rhythm, “do you play drums?”

She looked at me with just a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Yeah, why?”

I started tapping my own fingers on the bench. “Because I do the same, when I’m tense or agitated, I tap. And to be honest, you had a pretty sweet beat going on there. I’d have been surprised if you didn’t play them.”

“Oh.” She leant back, crossing her arms.

“So, what set you got?”

She started to tell me about her drum kit, getting more and more excited and engrossed in what she was saying, she started using her hands and became more relaxed. I kept the conversation going, telling her about my own sweet baby waiting for me in my parent’s basement, and before we drifted into silence (which would have allowed her to relapse into her own fear) I asked who her favourite drummers were.

Even Chuck joined in, and I was a little more than surprised to find out he played bass.

The conversation stopped only when her cousin pulled out, from the shelves, thin mattresses and a few sleeping bags. He threw these into the middle of the room.

“Get some sleep.” He muttered, hands slipping into his pockets as he hung his head forward. “Might as well.”

Madison stood up and went over to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Chuck stood up and made his way to the bedding, with me following slowly behind him. The others didn’t move, and without a word we started to distribute mattresses and sleeping bags to them. Chuck took a pile over to the family, while I took two to the couple.

“What’s happening?” Johnny asked me, standing up to take the bedding. “Why did you guys come rushing in earlier?”

I nodded at the boy. “He told us we had to come in. I don’t know why.”

“We’re at war, aren’t we?” Tabby muttered, her body starting to shake. “Oh my god, it’s the end. We’re going to die.” She focused her eyes on the floor, and I could see the change coming over her. She started muttering incoherently, tears began to stream down her face. Johnny glanced at me, eyes wide and scared, clearly not knowing what to do.

“Ssh.” I was alerted to Maria’s presence with that soft sound, as she placed herself beside the girl. Her arms went around her, rubbing her shoulder. “It’s OK sweetie, we’re all going to be OK.” She began to sing a soft song, one I recognised as a lullaby, a similar one that my mum used to sing to me. Both Johnny and myself staggered backwards, as I glanced at the woman’s kids. They’d both been asleep for a while, dozing on and off, and I could see Robert pulling blankets over them as he chatted quietly to Chuck.

Unable to sleep, I sat on one of the benches with my legs stretched out. As far as I could tell, all of the others were far off in dreamland. I rummaged in my bag until I found the book I’d packed with me, and opened it up, using the little light given off by the one lantern left on to read.

I jumped when someone tapped on my shoulder, half turning to see Robert standing just beside me.

“Sorry for scaring you lad, but do you have a spare cigarette?”

“Sure.” I nodded, closing my book and moving my legs. I handed him the pack, watching as he took one out and lit it up. I did the same, watching the relief wash over his face as he inhaled.

“I haven’t smoked in what must be eight years now.” His eyes landed on the young boy. “Not since before I left the Army, anyway.”

“When did you leave?” I asked, leaning my elbows on my knees.

“About six years ago, when the lad was two.” He replied, letting out a sigh. “I missed so much those first two years.” He paused, still watching his two kids. “Don’t join the Army kid.” He told me, shaking his head.

“Why not?” I couldn’t resist asking the question that was just hanging in the air between us. He glanced at me with something akin to pity in his eyes.

“Because it messes you up.”

“Chuck seems alright.” I looked over to where my mate was laying, stretched out under one of the benches, looking peaceful in sleep.

Then, I thought, I mean really thought about what the Sergeant had said. ‘It messes you up.’ My mind flashed to nights out with Chuck and Clara, when Chuck had had a few beers in him. He was quick to become aggressive, quick to size up to someone because they ‘were perving on Clara’. He was never aggressive with me, but it was like I could see it lurking in his eyes, an underlying frustration, a lot of pent up energy that he needed to get out of his system.

The few nights where I’d been kind of sober, it had scared me. I wasn’t a fighter, but I was always there for my friends. But these times...

I’d have to back out, I’d have to put a hand on Chuck’s shoulder and tell him to leave it.

And what about those times where we’d left? When he’d head off towards home and I’d take Clara back to mine? When the day after, he’d stumble in with a black eye and the anger from his eyes gone.

For a few days, anyway.

Then it would return, and put me on edge.

But I never really thought too much about it, I didn’t connect it to the time he served in the Army. I didn’t link them together.

“You sure about that?”

“No.” I took another drag, pulling my eyes away from Chuck and looking, instead, at Robert. “He doesn’t seem messed up, not majorly. But it’s like an underlying aggression, something he’s storing.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Most of the guys end up looking for an outlet, after they’ve left. Boxing or some form of Martial Arts. Some take up instruments, some focus on something completely different. A couple of my lads...I try to stay in touch with them, see they’re doing OK. Anyway, a few did more training. Became teachers. Makes them feel worthwhile.”

How long had Chuck been out of the Army when I met him?

Six months, something like that. Half a year, and he’d been unemployed for a lot of that time. Until he ended up in the same interview as me, and I remember going for a drink with him after, and being a little scared. But nothing had happened, and we both got the job, and we became mates.

Robert was right though; he needed an outlet, he didn’t have one.

“What did you do?” I asked, watching as he smiled gently.

“I’ve got a punching bag, down in our basement. I use that whenever I feel, well, frustrated or angry. Doesn’t happen as much now, but when I first left...as well as that, there’s the ex-servicemen’s club near me. We meet up, we have drinks and share stories. We go to shooting ranges and paintball now and then too.”

“Sounds pretty cool.” I smiled at him.

“It is. Was. I guess it’s over now though.” Sadness flickered into his face, before his eyes fell on his family. “But they’re here, they’re safe. That’s the important thing.”

“Yeah.” I dropped the butt on the floor, using my foot to crush it. What he said had me, again, thinking of my own family. Why hadn’t I thought to phone them while I was at the flat? Or used Chuck’s mobile to phone them on the way here? Or, shit, I could have taken Johnny’s phone with me when we went outside.

I was a dumbass, pure and simple.

“What about you?” He asked, copying my own actions and crushing his cigarette.

I looked at him, slightly confused.

“Your family.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” I stalled for a few seconds, leaning back and tapping my fingers on my knees. “I don’t know where they are.” I mumbled, almost apologetic for my lack of knowledge. “I mean, mum’s sensible enough to have something sorted out. So her and dad are properly OK. I’ve got two older brothers, one of them has a wife. They’ll be OK, I imagine.” I paused then, thinking about my sister. “Kitty. She’s just started University. Kicked my ass in A Levels, will most likely kick my degree as well.” I couldn’t resist a smile then. “She’s the clever one, always has been. Always asking questions and digging her nose in.”

I paused to cough, and could see his eyes on me, sparkling as he smiled.

“She’ll be fine. I’m sure the Universities have some sort of procedure in place.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I nodded, stifling a yawn. “We should properly try to sleep.”

“’Course.” He nodded, standing up and clapping my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, alright lad?”

“Yeah, sure.” I reached down, grabbing the sleeping bag I had claimed. “See you tomorrow.”