The Wall (© Colin M. Drysdale)
Page 2 We completed it in two days but with
nearly thirty thousand of us working on it, it wasn’t nearly as impressive as
it sounds. That was when they started what they were calling a phased
withdrawal. Well that’s what they were calling it to us; to the media and
the public they were still talking about containment. They airlifted the troops
out, starting with the ones closest to the action, but left the civilians
behind. Three days later even that stopped: it was getting too risky. By then
the gradual trickle of people fleeing southwards from the infected had grown
into a raging torrent but we had to hold firm. We couldn’t tell who might be infected,
but as yet unturned, and who was infection-free, and there was no way we could
risk the virus getting through the wall. As far as I knew, there was no plan B
so if that happened, the whole country was finished – that was how important
the wall was. If the ever-building crowds came too close
to the wall, we’d fire warning shots to keep them away. It was heart-breaking
to see them: men, women, whole families all trying to get away from the
infection but there was nothing any of us could do. As we watched helplessly, they
set up makeshift camps all along the northern edge of the wall; some with tents,
others making use of cars, caravans and whatever else they could find. At night
all I could see were thousands upon thousands of fires, burning in the
darkness, stretching as far as the eye could see both along the wall and off into
the north. Then the infected started to appear. I
don’t know where they came from, may be they’d followed those trying to flee
south or maybe it was people who’d been bitten and had got this far before
finally losing their battle against the virus. At first we tried to take them
out, shooting at anyone who had clearly turned before they could attack too
many others. When it was an adult it wasn’t too hard but when it was a teenager
or, even worse, a child it was gut-wrenchingly difficult; yet it had to be
done. Even then it didn’t really make a difference because soon there were just
too many of them. Pandemonium broke out amongst the refugees. It was horrific
watching all those people as the infection and the infected surged through the
crowds below the wall but I couldn’t take my eyes off it. No one knew what to
do; where to go. Some tried to climb the wall or tear it down and we were
ordered to shoot them. Others called up to where we stood, asking for our help
or holding up their children pleading for us to save them. Even if we’d been
allowed, they were too far below to reach without risking our own lives and none
of us were willing to do that. Then there were the ones that ran. They didn’t
know where they were heading, they just took off and when one person started,
others around them would follow, turning a frightened mob into a stampede that swept
across all in its path. Anyone who fell or got in its way was trampled under
foot. That night almost no fires burned in the
darkness and by dawn there were none. As the sun rose it revealed what was left
of the refugee camps. Gone were the clusters of tents and people; in the night
they’d been replaced by a roaring, swirling sea of infected. They lined the
wall, forty or fifty deep all trying to get to the uninfected they could sense on
the other side. They attacked the makeshift structure, beating and tearing at
it until their hands bled.
As I finish my cigarette, I hear the RV screech
to a halt. I turn to find it’s now close enough to the wall that the occupants
must be able to make out the swarm of infected that line it as far as the eye
can see. I watch as it sits there, it’s engine idling and I wonder what the
driver’s thinking. The engine roars again and the RV leaps forward. When it
reaches the first of the infected it doesn’t slow; it just plows through them.
It doesn’t even slow as it approaches the wall itself; instead it slams into it.
I feel a tremor pass under my feet. For a moment I wonder if the wall will hold
but then I realise that one RV would have little impact on the tons of earth
and rock on which I stand. I peer over the edge and see the infected crowding around
the vehicle, trying their best to get in. Then the skylight on its roof opens
and a pair of hands appear. A moment later, they’re followed by a head and then
the rest of a young boy. Soon another person appears, then another and another.
The last must have been the driver because he’s bleeding from a gash across his
face that looks like it’s been caused by his head hitting the steering wheel. They
glance around frantically, seeing that the RV is surrounded by infected on
three sides whilst the front end is crumpled against the wall. They’re only a
few feet below me but before they can do anything the RV shudders, causing one
of the kids to lose his footing. As he scrambles back to his feet, the vehicle
starts to sway violently as the infected attack it, trying to get to the people
huddled on its roof. [ Continue to page 3 ] |