Chapter 2
I
Ben woke from a heavy sleep. He found himself under what seemed to be a mountain of blankets and, for the briefest of moments, imagined that he was at home in bed.
His arms were weak as he moved them, pushing the blankets away from his face to allow himself air. He saw that he was naked as he pushed the blanket down towards his waist, but could not remember getting undressed. If he was at home in bed, he had stripped off at some point, and someone had done some radical redecorating while he had slept.
“Come quick, come quick,” someone shouted. “He’s awake!”
Ben didn’t recognise the voice, or the two people who pushed aside the curtain at the foot of his bed and entered to stand on either side of him. The man to Ben’s right was tall and broad shouldered. He had dark hair and Ben estimated him to be in his early thirties, a few years older than the woman who stood at his left. She was tall and slim with long dark hair lying loosely around her face and neck. She looked down at him with auburn eyes, smiling. A young, bright-eyed boy pushed his way unceremoniously through the curtain to stand at the foot of the bed, grinning gleefully. Ben was already becoming drowsy again.
“See, Mommy, see,” the young boy said. “I told you he was awake.”
“Well done, Daniel,” the woman replied. “Go on, run along now. I’m sure our stranger here still needs his rest.”
Daniel started with “Do I have to?”, but his mother just turned to look at him and he edged his way out through the curtain, head held low.
The man looked him in the eye and spoke with a rich deep voice that was hauntingly familiar to Ben in his dreamlike state. “How do you feel now?” he asked. “To be quite honest, I didn’t think you had a chance, considering the condition we found you in, but my sister here convinced us to bring you along. I'm glad though, I wouldn’t want to think of you lying out there in the snow any longer than you did, or I doubt anyone would’ve found you.”
Ben reached for the blanket to pull it back over his body, half asleep and wary of strangers after his first encounter in Garstang. The woman pulled the blankets over him and tucked them in at his sides, like his mother used to years before when he was ill.
The man squeezed his shoulder, gently. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Matthew, and this is Catrina, my sister. Glad to see you’re doing okay.” Catrina reached down to grip his hand, but he barely had the strength to grip it back.
Ben opened his mouth to speak, cracking his lips as his parched throat rasped in its attempt to make noise. Catrina reached over to get a glass of water and held it to his mouth. The glass was chipped but clean, and he managed to get enough past his lips to satisfy his throat for the time being, though most of it ran down his cheeks to drench the pillow his head was resting on. He managed to say “thank you,” before drifting back to sleep.
The next time Ben awoke, he had much more strength and was able to sit himself up and hold the glass of water for himself. For a moment, he thought that the strange rocking sensation was due to his illness, but as his mind picked up speed and his stomach filled with water, he realised that the room was moving below him, swaying him back and forth.
The walls of the room were an off white, uniformly so that spread to the ceiling and floor, lit by large white candles spaced out evenly along the walls. A small window high up in the wall helped combat the gloom.
The floor was covered in part with blankets, much the same as those that had covered him, serving as mats, but all indistinguishable from each other. At least they were relatively clean, and in much better condition than those that the psychos in Garstang had worn.
Ben was still naked, but could see his clothes lying across a pipe running along the wall. Pulling the topmost blanket around himself, he edged his way to the edge of the bed and placed his feet gently on the floor, testing the strength in his legs before risking standing. He found that his legs would bear his weight if he rested one hand on the bed to support himself, but with the other hand holding the blanket at his chest to protect his modesty, he was still unable to reach his clothes. Matthew poked his head around the curtain and smiled at Ben’s predicament.
“Hi,” Matthew said. “Glad to see you back in the land of the living. Want a hand with that?” Matthew collected Ben’s clothes from the pipe and handed them to him as Ben sat back down, exhausted from the minimal exercise. “Sorry about that,” Matthew continued. “Your clothes were wet through when we found you. I’ll leave you to get dressed.”
Ben held his head low as Matthew spoke, wary of the stranger’s aid. As he sorted his clothes out, he noticed that they were warm, and the room he was in didn’t appear cold on his bare chest either. He dressed as quickly as he was able as Matthew spoke to him from the other side of the curtain.
“What’s your name, my friend?” Matthew asked. “We still haven’t been formally introduced.”
“Ben, Benjamin Knight,” Ben replied. “But most people just call me Ben. I remember you said your name was Matthew. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”
“No thanks are necessary, I assure you,” Matthew told him. “I’m just glad to see you alive and well. When we found you lying there in the road, I thought you were already dead. I’d just sent Carl out to clear our path when he called us over. It was Cat that convinced me you had a pulse and that’s why we brought you in. You’re a very lucky man, Benjamin Knight, very lucky.”
“How long have I been here?” Ben asked.
“Almost a week now,” Matthew replied.
Ben was surprised. “Really?” he said as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. “I can’t remember any of it.”
“It was close for a while, but you held in there.”
The contents of his pockets had been placed carefully on the small table next to the now empty glass. He clipped the pager to his belt and returned his wallet and matches to his pocket, but he left the dead torch and can opener where he found them.
Ben found that it was warm enough to leave his coat off, so he left it on the bed and pulled the curtain aside to expose the rest of the compartment. This side was much the same as the side with the bed, with white walls and makeshift blankets and mats on the floor. However, instead of a bed, an old and faded grey sofa decorated the room, along with a wooden table. The far end of the compartment ended in two large closed doors.
Matthew noticed Ben glancing around the room, taking everything in. “Ben, you’re among friends here,” Matthew told him. “Why don’t you come and sit.”
The sensation of the compartment swaying from side to side was more pronounced as Ben was walking, and Matthew half stood to catch him as Ben rested a hand against the wall to steady himself. Matthew beckoned him to sit next to him, offering him one of the two steaming drinks resting on the table. Ben did as he was bid.
“So tell me,” Matthew asked. “How did you end up so far into the Wastelands? You don’t look like a local.”
“I doubt if you’d believe my story,” Ben replied.
“Try me,” Matthew said as he turned to give him his full attention.
Holding his hot mug tightly in both hands, Ben began. He only mentioned the laboratory in passing, but told Matthew the story of suddenly finding himself alone in an alien world. The way Ben told it, he found himself a short distance from Garstang, lost and bewildered, alone in a world that was not his own. Matthew listened intently, paying close attention to every word and offering comforting comments as Ben recounted his experiences in the hellish town.
Finally, Ben finished by describing his ill-fated attempt to find civilisation. “What happened?” he asked once his tale was done. “When did it all change like this? It never used to be like this, I’m sure of it.”
“For as long as I remember,” Matthew replied, “the Wastelands have always lived up to their name. The tribes have always survived out there, living like savages for the most part, taking what they want and killing anyone w
ho gets in their way. We on the Road Trains always try to avoid them whenever possible.
“Your tale is a strange one, Ben, I won't deny it. You certainly sound like you believe it, though. Let's just keep this between ourselves for the time being, okay?”
Ben thanked him for listening and not mocking him, but Matthew only responded with a nod of his head. He looked thoughtful and perhaps, Ben thought, a little worried. Listening to himself telling the story, Ben was starting to realise how crazy it all sounded.
Finally, Matthew broke the silence. “Where you from, Ben, originally?” he asked. “Maybe someone here has met your family?”
“England,” Ben told him.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Matthew admitted. “But that doesn’t mean much. Not within the Southern Baronies, that’s for sure, but east maybe?”
Ben smiled, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he told him. “I don’t think you’d find it on any map around here anyway.” Matthew raised his eyebrows questioningly. “No,” Ben agreed. “I’m not sure what I mean either. Maybe it’ll come to me, one day.”
Ben finished his drink in a gulp. He felt at ease with Matthew, the slowly growing bond of a friendship waiting to start. He stood and walked around the room to the back of the settee, working the feeling back into his legs, trying to think of conversation to break the unbearable silence that had developed. “Tell me about these Road Trains?” he asked.
The dark mood that was engulfing the room was already lifting. “What do you mean?” Matthew said, rising to his feet. “Can it be true? Am I not as famous as I thought?” Ben looked at him blankly.
“Really, the Road Trains?” Matthew insisted. “People wait months for our arrival.” He was getting more excited as he spoke, using his arms increasingly as his voice grew faster and more intense. Ben looked on. “We trade technology, food, clothes, livestock, whatever people want usually, ferrying it from north to south and then back again. Passengers too, if they’ve got the Deniras. You’ve really never heard of us, have you?”
Ben just stared at him questioningly, shaking his head. Matthew shook his head in disbelief. “Well, it looks like I’m just going to have to show you,” Matthew insisted. “We’ll need to be stopping soon anyway.” Matthew directed Ben’s attention towards the window cut high in the wall of the compartment. The sky was getting dark before his eyes as the sun made another trip past the horizon.
Matthew made his way towards what Ben was thinking of as the front of the compartment where the bed was to be found, and banged hard on the wall. This was followed by a loud whistle from in front of him, followed quickly by a similar whistle from some distance behind. Ben thought he heard four whistles in all, but it could have been five, he wasn’t sure. He had the sensation of slowing down, and then the floor lurched below him, followed by a hiss that reminded him of the hydraulics of the lift doors to the laboratory, only louder.
“Come on then, you’ll need this,” Matthew said as he tossed Ben the jacket that had been left lying on the bed. “My people will sort you out with something warmer later on,” Matthew continued, “but this should do you for now, just as long as you don’t intend on bedding down in the snow again.”
Matthew patted Ben on the back as he directed him towards the two large doors at the end of the cabin, stopping to retrieve his own coat from a hook near the back door. It was a long leather coat, probably black once, but now well worn and faded. Matthew noticed Ben’s examination. “My father gave me this a long time ago,” Matthew told him. “Comes with the Road Train. Come on, you’ll see.” Matthew opened the left of the two large doors to the snowy night beyond.
II
The wind whistled through the doorway as it opened, covering them both in a fine layer of snow. A foot-long metal walkway connected the room that Ben was in to what looked like an identical one, meaning he had to squeeze past the open doorway and jump to the snow-covered ground below before the door could be closed.
Ben turned his face away from the prevailing wind as Matthew gripped his shoulder and directed him to walk closely to the wall of what looked like the trailer of an articulated lorry, heading down towards the front. Ben could hear the chatter and shouts of people behind him, but Matthew began speaking again and stole his attention.
“What do you think, then?” Matthew asked excitedly.
Ben could see the vehicle that was pulling the Road Train along the snow-covered motorway. It reminded him of an old steam train, only merged in incredible ways with the cab of an articulated lorry. The front of the cab appeared to have been connected to a metal cylinder, housed on metal-rimmed wooden wheels that served to pull the trailer along. The rear section of the cab had been converted to act as a large container, presumably holding whatever fuel drove the Road Trains along. Ben was in awe.
“It’s . . . I don’t know what it is,” he stammered. “I’ve never seen anything like it before, I mean, well, I have, but not like this. Who built it?”
“My grandfather built the first of the Road Trains nearly fifty years ago,” Matthew informed him. “This very one, in fact. We’ve made some changes over the years, but the basic design’s just the same. Come look.”
They reached the door to the cabin and Matthew held it open for Ben to climb the three wooden steps and enter. Inside the cab, the heat was almost unbearable in contrast to the outside. Ben felt compelled to undo his jacket as Matthew climbed in behind him and closed the door from the elements. The driver and the large, mostly empty container made the inside of the cab cramped at best, but with a push and a shove, there was enough room for all of them.
“Carl,” Matthew said to the large man at the wheel. “I’d like you to meet Ben.”
The burly engineer spun around in his chair and wiped his sweaty hand on the leg of his jeans before shaking Ben’s, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He looked much older than Matthew, his hair and beard flecked with white, and he had an old purple scar that ran down the left side of his face, from the corner of his eye to the angle of his jaw. Ben tried not to stare. “Good to see you again,” Carl said. “Did the boss here tell you we nearly squashed you flat?”
Ben smiled back at him. “Yes he did,” he replied. “And he also mentioned that you’re the one to thank.” Ben was giving him a hearty handshake as Matthew began his tour.
“This here’s the furnace,” Matthew said. “But you probably knew that.” He was pointing to a metal doorway to the right of the driver’s chair. “We can channel the steam through pipes in the trailer to if we want to, after it drives the wheels.”
“To keep you warm,” Ben cut in. “This is ingenious, really.”
Carl got up from his chair and edged between the men, leaving them to it. Ben was again reminded how warm it was inside the cab compared to the outside. Peering over the side of the large container at the back of the cab, Ben found it to contain a few logs of wood sitting on top of a small pile of coal. He reached down and picked up one of the heavy pieces of wood, rolling it from one hand to the other before tossing it back.
“There’s not much left,” Ben asked, turning back to face Matthew in the front of the cab. “Are we nearly there?”
Matthew smiled, shaking his head. “No such luck,” he replied. “We'll add to the stocks later before it gets fully dark. Feel free to pitch in, if you’re interested.”
Ben tried not to look sheepish at the thought and failed miserably. Matthew looked him in the eye and laughed. “Come on,” he said, smiling. “There’s some people I want you to meet.”
They left the cab and returned to the steady snowfall, walking back towards the rear door to the trailer. Ben noticed that there was still a rubber wheel remaining on the trailer, though the rest had been replaced with the wooden wheels he had noticed earlier. He was surprised that they withstood the weight of the trailer bearing down on them.
As they neared the end of the second trailer, Ben found that it was not connected to anything, and that a second engine pulled another pai
r of trailers along behind it. “Who lives in the second trailer, Matthew?” Ben asked.
“The second trailer,” Matthew replied. “Well, no one lives in them; they’re not heated. We use them to carry cargo, fuel for the engines, anything but livestock and passengers, really. There's a separate heated trailer near the back of the Train for livestock. The smell, you know?”
“And passengers?” Ben asked.
“No, no passengers this time,” Matthew insisted. “Purely a trading run heading north, to Island City.”
Their conversation was interrupted as a woman ran through the snow and wrapped herself around Matthew’s shoulders, kissing his cold face. Matthew held her close. When they let go of each other, Ben was introduced.
“Ben,” Matthew said, “this is Arian, soon to be my wife.”
Ben held out his hand, but she hugged him instead. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled, his face buried in her blonde hair as she clung to him.
“We’ve already met,” Arian told him, “but you probably don’t remember. You’ve been out of it for days. How are you feeling now?”
Ben thought that he would be asked that question a lot before the day was out. “I’m doing better now,” he told her. “Thanks.”
“Well, don’t be long, you two,” Arian said, directing her statement at Matthew. “It’ll soon be time to eat.” She kissed Matthew again before continuing her run towards the front of the Road Train.
Matthew turned to watch her go, a smile on his lips. “But anyway, where were we?” he said absent-mindedly.
“The cargo?” Ben prompted.
“Oh, yes,” Matthew said. “Of course. Like I was saying, we don’t heat the rear trailers, so it’d be too cold to live in them during weather like this. We just transport the goods from north to south and back again, trying to turn a profit along the way.”
A multitude of people passed by them as they spoke, waving to them or greeting them as they made their way towards the front of the of the convoy. Ben couldn’t remember hearing his name used so many times before.
“How many trains are there?” he asked.
“Nineteen in all,” Matthew told him. “Though there’s only fourteen here at the moment. We had a bit of trouble on the last run, and one of them is still being repaired. I sent the other four east, out into the Wastelands, to see what they could find.”
“What are they looking for?” Ben asked, nodding in recognition as another passerby congratulated him on getting well.
“Anything and everything they can find. My grandfather found the first of these trailers fifty years ago, and look at us now. If we can find any new technology, it might just make someone’s life a bit easier, maybe even mine. There are plenty of buyers in the north and the south, just waiting for the old Road Trains to roll in.”
Ben’s eyes lit up as he imagined a vital piece of the puzzle within his grasp. “Where did it come from,” he asked hurriedly. “The technology, I mean. Is this the future, my future?”
Matthew chuckled. “Maybe, Ben, maybe,” he replied. “I don’t know. There are some people that think everything was left by a long lost civilisation, but I’m not convinced. I can follow my family back twelve generations, and there’s no mention in any of the old texts. All I know is, it’s there to be found if you go looking, and it doesn’t really matter where it all came from. I’ll probably never know. I even met a guy who was convinced everything was left by some creatures from another world, out amongst the stars. Now, that is crazy.”
As the sun disappeared over the horizon, leaving Ben and his companion in almost total darkness, his hopes of an answer to his predicament were shattered. He tried not to look too disappointed. “What sort of stuff do you find?” he asked.
“I'm not sure what it is most of the time,” Matthew told him. “I’m more technically minded than most people, but even I can’t get most of it to do anything. It’s just too old and broken to work anymore, I guess, but people seem to like it. It makes their homes look nice if nothing else. Here, take a look.”
Matthew moved around to the back of the second trailer and opened the heavy metal doors. He jumped up without effort and offered Ben a hand.
The inside of the trailer was full of plastic boxes and wooden crates, loaded high with snippets of Ben’s past. One box was full entirely of broken or incomplete circuit boards, while others were full of electrical equipment and broken televisions and computer monitors. The light was poor, but with some rummaging through the closest box, Ben found a CD player and picked it up. The plastic was partly melted along one side, but the buttons still worked so he clicked the casing open. The laser and electronics were still inside, but Ben couldn’t see how he could ever get it to work. He tossed it back into the box and climbed back out of the trailer.
“Mind if I take a look around some of this stuff? The light's not too good now, but maybe I could get some of this to work,” Ben asked, hoping for the chance to discover why so much of his past was here in this strange present.
If Matthew was surprised by the request, he didn't show it. “Sure,” he said, “I'll try to put aside some time tomorrow or the day after. If you turn us a bigger profit, you get a cut. Can’t say fairer than that, now can I.”
Ben nodded and helped Matthew close the heavy double doors.
“We should make our way to the camp,” Matthew added, turning Ben back towards the front of the Road Train. “Arian should have some food ready by now, and there’s still a lot to be done before we sleep.” Matthew slid the bar across the metal doors to hold them shut.
“By the way,” Matthew added as they walked again towards the front of the convoy, “that thing on your belt? I saw it when we found you. I'm sure I could do you a good price?”
Ben couldn’t think of how to respond. He didn’t want to tell Matthew the truth about the laboratory, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He bought some time by checking it and switching it on and off. Looking Matthew in the eye, he decided a half-truth was better than a lie. “It’s a kind of message device,” he began. “That’s all; nothing special where I come from.”
“So I can do 50 Deniras?” Matthew asked. “Good price for something so common.”
Ben shook his head. “It’s not for sale,” he replied, and gave Matthew a look that showed he couldn’t be swayed.
“Fair enough,” Matthew nodded and directed Ben back towards the front of the convoy. “Let's get a move on, shall we? My stomach’s rumbling.”
III
As they approached the front of the convoy, the sound of people grew louder. “How many people travel with you?” Ben asked as they passed the foremost Road Train.
“I’m not sure off hand,” Matthew said thoughtfully. “Maybe seventy or eighty? As you’ve noticed already, I stay here in the front trailer. Most of the lads bunk down together in the last few trains. Catrina's family has a train to themselves, as do some of the other families, but most of the others are just squeezed in together.”
The crew had constructed three large campfires in the field beside the road and were all attempting to huddle around them. Ben could see numerous pots and pans suspended over the fire, with the steam of boiling snow rising up to the sky. He could hear his stomach grumbling and realised that it must have been days since he had eaten.
Ben followed Matthew to the largest of the three fires, accepting his carved wooden plate and ceramic mug as it was handed to him. The snow around the fire had been cleared away and the ground covered with blankets, as everyone sat in a large circle, chatting and laughing as the first of the food was passed around. Ben sat with Matthew, with Catrina’s family to his right and Arian to his left. If there was a high table for the small travelling trading community, this was it.
The meal consisted of a combination of whatever tins were brought from the trailers and mixed together in one of the many pots. The meal was different, depending upon which pot or pan you took your serving from, a detail not mentioned to Ben, but one he quickl
y learnt.
Everyone was friendly, sharing jokes and stories about their adventures on the Road Trains. Ben found himself bombarded with questions about his past and where he came from. He tried to be as vague as possible and slowly people stopped asking.
Piecing together what he could from the stories he was told, Ben guessed that they were about a week from Island City, three weeks into the journey that the Road Trains made two or three times a year. They had travelled from the city of Maleton in Draxis, a country described as the northern most of the Southern Baronies. The Southern Baronies were a collection of small states occupying the south of the area, each ruled over by a Baron. Listening to the tales of some of the people around the campfire, it seemed that they were always fighting with each other; border squabbles over land and resources.
The Road Trains took manufactured goods from the south and salvaged technology from the Wastelands, trading it for goods and materials that were only available in Island City. From what Matthew had told him, the trips were always profitable, as people always waited for the Road Trains to arrive. The trips through the Wastelands would have been too dangerous otherwise.
After a while, several of the men took to the local trees to begin gathering wood for the next day’s journey, whilst the women took to clearing away the cooking equipment. Ben was asked to escort Catrina's children back to their trailer, a job he gladly accepted.
Adam, the youngest of Catrina's two children, was only just two years old and already sleeping. Ben carried him in his arms while Daniel led the way to their trailer. They were both dressed in furs to protect them from the cold, but while Adam slept soundly, Daniel spoke almost constantly.
“You were poorly when we found you, Ben,” Daniel said, barely pausing for breath. “But you’re better now. I’m glad.” Daniel moved his arms like a marching soldier as he walked, trying to match Ben’s pace.
“Thanks, Daniel.” Ben smiled. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“My mom looks after me when I’m poorly,” he continued. “And Dad says she's got some power that makes us better.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Ben replied. “Your Uncle Matthew told me that she was the only one who realised that I was still alive.” Adam stirred in his arms so Ben moved the sleeping child to his other shoulder.
“Mom thinks you’re strange, but I reckon you’re okay,” Daniel said with a nod of his head.
Ben laughed and Daniel laughed too, though Ben didn’t think the child knew why he was laughing. Ben had been surviving on the pretence that he was normal and everything around him was different and strange in some way, and hadn’t until then realised how odd he must appear to this new world's natives.
“How old are you, Daniel?” Ben asked, his laughter subsiding.
“I’ll be five in the summer,” Daniel said proudly. “Mom promised me something special this year. I think it’s a bike. I know Uncle Mat found one before, but he said he didn’t. I call him Uncle Travelling Mat, you know. Do you have Road Trains where you come from, Ben?”
“We have different ways of taking things from one place to another,” Ben told him. “There are trains, like your Road Trains, but they travel on metal rails and are driven by electricity.”
“What’s ‘lectricity?” Daniel asked.
“It’s energy,” Ben said, trying to explain it in a way a five-year-old could understand. “Like fire, I guess, but it travels down wires. We use it to power almost everything where I come from.”
“Sounds weird,” Daniel said. “I like the fires; they keep us warm and make the Road Trains go. Can your lectricity do that?”
“You bet,” Ben said smiling. “Maybe I’ll show you, if your Uncle Matthew will let me.”
“That’d be great. I’ll ask him for you; he never says no to me about anything.”
“Thanks. I’ll need some bits and pieces from the trailers, but I think I can get it to work.”
A cold wind blew bigger flakes of snow into their faces as they made their way along the length of the Road Trains. Ben had forgotten how exposed to the elements he was. He clung tighter to Adam as he walked.
“Which one's yours, Daniel?” he asked.
“That one, fourth from last,” Daniel said as he pointed to a trailer that was still too far away for Ben to make out clearly through the snow.
“I’m freezing,” Ben said, shivering. “Doesn’t the cold bother you?”
“No, not really,” Daniel replied. “We always come this way in the winter. I suppose I’m used to it by now, but it’s nicer at home.”
“Where is home, Daniel?” Ben asked. “What’s it like?”
“Maleton,” Daniel said. “That’s in Draxis, you know. My dad’s from Marston Falls, but I’ve only been there once, and that was when I was a baby so I don’t remember. Billy is my best friend. Billy said he once saw a crazy man and he had boils all over his face, and he was shouting stuff that my dad says I’m not supposed to say. Billy always makes up stories, but he got real scarred when he told me, so it might have happened.”
“I had a run in with some crazy men,” Ben told him. “They’re not the sort of people you want to be around, believe me.”
“No sir, they are not,” Daniel agreed. “I don’t want boils all over my face. Anyway, here we are. Home again, home again, jiggidy jig. My dad says that whenever we get back to Maleton.”
Ben squeezed between the living and the cargo trailers and opened the door. Adam was still asleep as they climbed the three wooden steps to the trailer.
The interior was very different from Matthew’s trailer. Instead of curtains to divide the trailer into separate rooms, this trailer had a corrugated steel partition with a functioning wooden door. Daniel explained that he slept on the sofa while Adam slept in his parent’s room the other side of the door. Ben entered the bedroom and placed the child in the crib. The bed was bigger than the one in Matthew’s trailer, with only a foot or so either side of it between the bed and the trailer walls. The lighting was subtle, with only a single candle on each of the walls.
Returning to the other half of the trailer, Ben found that Daniel was already undressed and making his bed on the sofa. The fires in the steam engines had gone out some hours before, but the trailers held the heat well. Ben helped tuck the young boy in. “You want me to stay with you till your mom gets back?” he asked.
“No, that’s okay,” Daniel told him. “They’ll be back soon anyway. I think Uncle Mat will need your help collecting the wood for the morning.”
“And there was me thinking I’d got out of that,” Ben grumbled as he made one last check that the blankets were wrapped tightly around the boy. On leaving the trailer, he wasn’t sure if the temperature had dropped while he had been indoors, or if the warm trailer had just de-sensitised him, but he was freezing again all the same. Holding his arms tightly around himself, he ventured out from the gap between the trailers and back into the snow.
He was turning back in the direction of the warm, inviting fires when he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. Turning, he convinced himself that he could see one, possibly two figures standing beside the penultimate Road Train, rubbing their hands in front of them against the cold. Ben decided that he could wait another five minutes or so before chopping wood.
It wasn’t until he got much closer that Ben realised that there were indeed two men and that both men had guns slung over their shoulders. By then, however, they had already seen him, so he continued towards them with the friendliest smile that he could make plastered all over his face.
“Evening,” Ben said cheerfully.
“Evening,” they replied, eyeing him suspiciously. They both moved slightly so as to flank any potential movements on Ben’s part, hands hovering near the butts of the guns on their shoulders.
Ben could feel his heart pick up speed as the men stared at him unblinking. “You guarding the livestock?” Ben asked, any real conversation snatched from his mind by the tightening grip of fear. It was
n't until later that Ben realised the farmyard smell he had expected was conspicuously absent.
“Yes,” said one and, “Yep,” said the other, almost in unison. Ben hadn’t noticed before how big they both looked beneath the heavy woollen coats they were both wearing.
“Matthew said I could look around,” Ben suggested. “See what I could get working.”
“I doubt that,” said one.
“I doubt he meant this trailer,” said the other.
“No, really,” Ben began, but before he could finish his sentence, one of the guards had pushed him backwards to the floor, causing him to land heavily on his behind. The other guard had pulled the gun from his shoulder and levelled it towards Ben’s head.
“We tried being nice,” said one.
“And civil,” said the other. “But you gotta know when you ain’t welcome. So get your ass back to camp before I kick you there, okay?”
Ben scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off the barrel of the gun that rose with him, pointing continuously towards his head. He was halfway back to the campfire before he stopped running, trying to ignore the raucous laughter from the two men behind him.
IV
When Ben returned to the campfires, one of the fires had already burnt out, and the others were slowly burning down. Most of the people who had been around the fires had left, but Carl stood a short distance from what was the largest fire, seemingly waiting for him. Ben took the axe as it was handed to him, feeling its weight.
“Come on, lad, there’s work to be done,” Carl told him, “unless you're going to be pushing us to Island City in the morning.”
Ben settled the axe in his hand as he came to stand next to Carl, who was also carrying a very similar weapon. “No chance of an early night then?” Ben asked sarcastically, but his attempt at humour was wasted on the old engineer.
“Not tonight,” Carl said. “And besides, I doubt you’d be too welcome in the boss’ trailer tonight. With you being in his bed this last week, he and Arian haven't had any quiet time, if you get my meaning.” Ben stared at the floor, suddenly feeling even colder.
“Don't worry,” Carl reassured him. “You can bunk down with me, lad, if you like. If you can get yourself a blanket, there’s a spot on floor in my trailer.”
“Thanks,” Ben said with a smile.
Carl put his arm around Ben and turned him in the direction of the trees. They walked together, trying to ignore the cold. “You know how to use one of those?” Carl asked.
“Swing it towards the tree and hope for the best?” Ben suggested.
“That’s the spirit,” Carl replied, laughing. “We’ll make a woodcutter out of you yet! Get to work on that tree over there.”
Carl pointed to one of the trees on the edge of the wood before turning towards one of the larger trees himself. Most of the other men in the group were also in the process of felling trees.
Ben noticed that there was a large amount of stumps jutting up from the ground, indicating that the Road Trains had camped there before. He watched his footing as he made his way to his nominated tree and swung his axe with all the strength he could muster. There was a rewarding thwack as bits of bark flew either side of the blade. As he was raising the axe for a second swing, he heard Carl shouting for him.
“Hey, Ben, don’t forget to shout ‘move’ when the tree’s on its way down,” Carl said.
“Not ‘timber’?” Ben asked, the axe still suspended above his head.
“What? No,” Carl said, looking confused. “It’s just ‘move,’ got it?”
“Got it,” Ben replied as the axe made a second thwack against the tree in a different spot to the first. Carl strolled towards his own tree, shaking his head, intending to get as far away from the young man’s tree as he could.
V
Ben slept well that night, exhausted from the unaccustomed physical activity. He awoke to the kick of one of his fellow bunkmates in the cramped trailer, arms and back aching. “What time is it?” he asked, his eyes still closed and his blanket pulled tightly up around his neck.
“Morning,” said the man who had kicked him. It could have been Carl, but Ben wasn’t sure; his eyes were still refusing to open. The rear trailer door was open, allowing a cold wind to blow in through the compartment, quickly bringing Ben to his senses. He got to his feet, attempting to smooth some of the wrinkles from his clothes, and followed the rest of the men from the trailer.
The snow had stopped falling at some point during the night, but there was still plenty lying on the ground, crunching under Ben’s feet. He didn’t think that it was as cold as the day before, but it was certainly no summer’s day. He zipped his coat to his neck and trundled along behind the rest of the men towards the front of the Road Train.
There he found a large bowl full of boiling water fed directly from a Road Train engine, along with large pots of boiling tea. Each man took a moment to wash his face and refresh himself before taking his cup and drinking. Ben hadn’t noticed how smelly he was getting, but as far as he knew, no one else had noticed either. Everyone around him was dressed in the same clothes that they had worn on the previous evening, probably right down to the underwear.
Carl brought him over a mug of tea. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like death warmed up,” Ben replied. He clung to the mug in his hands, feeding more off its warmth than its contents.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Carl reassured him. “Another week or so and we’ll be in Island City anyway.”
Ben tried a smile, but his muscles weren't yet working at that hour of the morning. The sun was barely above the horizon, the first of its reddish beams only just reaching Ben's cold face from the cloudless sky.
“What’s the plan for this morning?” Ben asked, taking another drink from his tea and relishing in the sensation as it warmed his stomach. The men were passing around what Ben thought to be a dry bread, and Ben took his share and ate it heartily, passing it on to Carl.
“Well, me, I drive the Train as usual,” Carl said between mouthfuls. “You, I don’t know. There’s word that the boss wants a word; maybe he’ll tell you then.”
Ben finished his breakfast and took the opportunity to relieve himself behind a bush off to the side of the motorway before a loud whistle sounded at the front of the line of Road Trains. Carl shouted that he was to follow him to the front of the convoy, and Ben did just that.
Outside Matthew's trailer, Carl continued up to the cab and entered, leaving Ben alone to his fate. He couldn’t be sure why he had been called to see Matthew, but he thought that his little trip last night might have something to do with it. He tapped gently on the door to the trailer.
“Come in, Ben,” Matthew shouted from inside.
Ben pulled the door open and climbed into the back of the trailer. Matthew was dressed and clean shaven, sitting at the furthest end of the settee, looking at him. “I didn’t know if . . .” Ben began, but Matthew raised his hand gently and Ben immediately quieted.
“Please, come sit down and close that door. The engine’s not up to heat yet and this place is still cold.”
Ben did as he was told. He noticed that the normal friendliness in Matthew’s voice was most definitely absent. Matthew had taken on the businesslike tone of a doctor or a lawyer.
“Carl told me you wanted to see me,” Ben said meekly as he sat down at the other end of the settee. A whistle sounded from the cab and Ben had the sensation of the trailer beginning to move underneath him. They were on their way again.
“That’s because I asked him to,” Matthew told him. “I thought we needed to have a little chat, set down some ground rules.” Ben knew that his fears about the conversation were all about to come true.
“I can’t place your accent, Ben,” Matthew continued, “but that doesn’t mean anything. We took you in when you needed us, and I hope my people have been treating you right?”
“Yes, of course, but. . .” Ben said, but a look from
Matthew told him that he would get a chance to speak later.
“I got a message from Mike last night,” Matthew continued. “Seems like you were snooping around where you weren’t supposed to. Want to deny it?”
“No, I mean, I wasn’t snooping,” Ben said quickly. “Well, not on purpose anyway. I'd just put Daniel to bed when I saw the two men, so I just went to say hello. Matthew, please, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Matthew shifted in his chair, moving himself closer to Ben. “Well, I hope that’s true,” Matthew said, “for your sake. A man like me, I've got enemies, people who want to see me fail and maybe take a piece of my action. You can call me paranoid if you like, but I got to thinking that maybe nearly getting yourself dead was just a novel way of getting close to me and this train. Seems convenient that we came along when we did, don’t you think, out there, slap bang in the middle of the Wastelands? Then you won't tell me truth about where you're from?”
“I’m just glad you came along when you did,” Ben pleaded. “You saved my life and I can’t thank you enough for that, but it wasn’t planned or anything. Look, I know my story seems a little strange, okay, well, a lot strange, but if it’s freaking you out, just think what it’s doing to me? I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I just got curious at the wrong time, really.”
Ben's speech had sped up during his monologue and his breathing had quickened. If he didn’t stop speaking soon, he was liable to pass out.
Matthew’s calming voice returned as he saw the state Ben was getting himself into. “Hey, calm down,” Matthew said reassuringly. “I’m sorry if I scared you. Every part of my gut is telling me that you’re a good guy, Ben, but I just had to make sure. Like I said, I've got myself a few new enemies this trip, and we’re all a little on edge. Hey, let's just say you keep to your business and I’ll keep to mine, okay?”
“Sure, yes, whatever you say,” Ben replied.
“And if you want to look around the trailers, then go ahead,” Matthew continued. “Like I said, if you make us a profit, you get a cut, but just stay away from the last couple of trains and we’ll both be fine. Got it?”
Ben relaxed a little. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “I feel like excess baggage hanging around with you guys.”
“You help out where you can, and don’t get in the way when you can’t,” Matthew told him. “Sound good? Look, why don’t you start poking around in the back, see what you can find.”
“Okay, thanks, Matthew, thanks,” Ben said as he got up from his chair and made his way back to the door. He was quickly becoming accustomed to the movement of trailer beneath his feet, and was maintaining his balance without thinking.
“Oh, wait, just a second,” Matthew said as Ben was turning the handle. Ben turned around to see Matthew climb from his chair and step around the curtain.
“I sorted these out for you,” Matthew offered. “They used to be mine, but I think they’ll still fit. I don’t mean to be mean, but you’re not as fresh as when we first met.”
Matthew returned from the other side of the curtain with a bundle of clothes. They weren’t as well made as Ben’s, but they were definitely cleaner. There was also half a bar of soap.
Ben took the clothes from him and bundled them together against his chest. “Thanks, you can’t imagine how dirty I feel,” Ben said. “I was never a fan of roughing it. I’ve never been on a camping trip in my life.”
“Well, there’s a good bath waiting for all of us in Island City,” Matthew reassured him. “And if you give your other clothes to me, I’ll make sure they’re cleaned and returned to you.”
Ben went behind the curtain and changed his clothes, leaving his old ones in a pile on the floor. Using the bar of soap and a bowl of boiled snow, he was able to get himself clean and feel almost human again. Matthew had sorted him out a large coat, which he wore over his jacket. The temperature inside the trailer was rising as the Road Train continued on its way, but Matthew had told him that the rear trailers were not heated, and that seemed the most likely place he was to spend his days.
Matthew looked him up and down as he emerged from behind the curtain. “Much better.” He smiled. “Not a perfect fit, but they'll do for now. Market day will give you chance to find something a little more your size.”
“I really can't thank you enough,” Ben began, adjusting the trousers at his waist.
“There's really no need,” Matthew reassured him. “And if you want to have a look around in my second trailer today, feel free. There’s a door the other side of the gangway. Now the snow's stopped, if you pull some of the ropes on the walls, you can open some of the roof hatches and give yourself some more light. There are some candles near the back door if that’s not good enough. Got matches?”
“Yes, thanks,” Ben said, retrieving the box from his pocket and shaking it to make sure that there were still matches inside it.
“Then time to get to work,” Matthew affirmed.
Ben nodded and made his way to the door. Standing on the gangway between the trailers, he found it difficult to close the big door to Matthew’s trailer before he could open the other, smaller door to the rear trailer, but with some shuffling and well-placed support beams, he managed.
He could see the countryside moving past the gap between the trailers as the Road Trains continued on their way. He estimated the speed to be ten, maybe fifteen miles per hour, but certainly better than making the journey on foot.
The inside of the second trailer was as cold as the outside, just as Matthew had described it. Ben picked his way carefully past the highly stacked boxes to the left wall, where the light coming through the open doorway was just enough to illuminate the ropes attached to it. Ben pulled them in turn to open the overhead hatches and let more light in. Ben just hoped that the weather stayed dry; he doubted if Matthew would be too happy if his cargo was drenched.
He set to work rummaging through one box after another, looking for anything that could be salvaged and made to work again, and for anything that might give him an answer as to what had happened to his world.
VI
Ben spent the next three days of the journey searching through the boxes in the rear of the trailers, and the nights laughing, singing, and listening to stories with the rest of the group while they ate and drank around the fires. He still couldn't keep his mind off of what was going on at the rear of the convoy. He had the distinct impression that everyone knew a secret that he didn’t, but for all of his subtle, and often not so subtle questioning, he managed to learn nothing more about what was going on.
The further north they travelled, the warmer the weather got. It had not snowed since the day he had woke in the back of Matthew’s trailer, and the snow underfoot was beginning to soak back into the ground. Matthew warned him not to get too excited as the rainy season would soon be upon them, but Ben was just glad to see the back of the snow.
During his rummaging, Ben had found most of the pieces of an old generator, including a working dynamo. He had used it to power a small electric bulb by rapidly turning the motor by hand, but Matthew had seemed unimpressed. As Matthew had pointed out, the bulb wasn’t as bright as most of the candles they had lit on their walls, and took a lot more effort. Ben could see his point, but attempted to explain the potential all the same.
On Ben’s fifth night with the group, long after the rest of the men in Carl's trailer had drunk themselves to sleep, Ben found himself wide awake and staring at the moon through one of the small windows high up in wall of the trailer. His mind kept returning to the trailer at the rear of the convoy. Matthew had said something about new enemies, but Ben didn’t know why Matthew suspected him. What’s he got to hide? Ben thought, lying on the floor of the trailer. Ben wondered if maybe that was where the weapons were stored, or if it could be something else entirely. Maybe the trailer held some of the working technology Matthew had found, and that he was just protecting it from thieves. With what seemed like endless tossing and turning and
his mind working overtime, Ben knew one thing for sure, he wouldn’t get any sleep that night until he knew.
Sneaking from the back of the trailer, being careful not to wake anyone, Ben moved stealthily towards the penultimate trailer. Most people had drunk well on the previous evening, so he doubted if they would be easily roused, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Keeping low and hugging the shadows, he was able to spot the two guards before they spied him. The moon was past its fullest, but the night still looked bright to Ben’s eyes.
Creeping around to the front of the engine, Ben ignored his usual apprehensiveness about getting dirty and lay on his back on the ground. During his time working in the rearmost trailers searching for fixable technology, he had noticed that there were always one or two hatches in the floor.
With careful, silent movements, he was able to pull himself along the underside of the Road Train, past the engine and the first trailer, until he was directly under the second. As far as he knew, the guards were still oblivious to his presence, and that was the way he wanted it to stay.
Pushing up gently on the first of the two hatches in the floor of the trailer, Ben found it locked and unmoving. He was luckier with the second. The hinges were rusted, but by opening the hatch slowly, Ben found that he made the minimum of noise.
Poking his head through the gap, he was surprised to find the inside of trailer devoid of boxes. In the dim light, he could make out the outline of a chair and bed, very similar to Matthew's own trailer, and Ben also had the impression that the trailer was heated in some way, though he had seen no pipes leading to it from the engine.
Movement on the bed startled him, and the hatch squeaked as he reflexively ducked his head to avoid being seen. Waiting a second to see if anyone shouted for his capture, he chanced a second look. He could make out a blanket-covered shape on the bed, but nothing more. If he was to avoid being captured, he would have to let his questions remain unanswered for a while longer. At least some of his curiosity had been abated.
He returned to his trailer with all of the care he had employed leaving it, and was able to catch the last two hours sleep before sunrise.
VII
Ben spent the rest of the journey trying not to think about whoever was in the trailer. A part of his mind was insisting that it was female, but he hadn’t seen enough in the darkness to be sure.
He had hardly seen Matthew since their “chat,” and was starting to wonder if he had been avoiding him, but there was talk among the traders that he had hardly been seen for most of the week. He had only made one appearance at an evening meal, and that wasn’t for very long. His face had looked long and troubled, like he hadn’t slept for a while.
The two guards were still ever present at the rear of the Road Trains, though Ben had chosen not to try talking to them again. More than once, though, he found them watching him as he helped one trader or another, a threatening look on their faces mixed with a sense of anticipation.
Catrina and Arian were spending a lot of time together as far as Ben could see, but neither of them seemed to be very happy. Wherever Matthew was going, it wasn't to spend time with Arian. Daniel spent most of his time helping to care for Adam while the two women sat conversing in the trailers, or huddled close together near the night time fires.
The only person who seemed to be his usual self in the last few days before they reached Island City was Carl. He was always ready to chat with Ben about nothing in particular, a cheerful smile and dirty joke to pass the time.
If only they knew what was to come, even Carl would have harboured a worried look on his face.