In The End | Novella | Beginning of the End

on the other side.

8
I shuffled forward, looking left and right, letting go of Tommy’s hand with a quick glance to make sure he still followed.
I looked over every surface of the fence, wondering if I could scale it whilst wishing they’d put the concrete blocks on this side to make it easier.
I glanced to Tommy and he looked back, his brow raised with a question. Maybe I could have climbed over, but I wasn’t sure if Tommy would have the strength even if I boosted him up.
At the edge of the back of the house and about to come out of the safety of the brick cover on either side, I looked both ways along the gardens and down the gap between the fence and the end of each of the small plots of land. With no new danger, I turned, whispering for Tommy to wait.
I hunched over, stepping lightly before rushing to the end of the garden.
Glancing to either side and seeing nothing to hold me back, I moved up to the panels which seemed so much taller up close. I couldn’t even reach the top, despite being nearly six foot. I was a long way off being able to grab at the edge.
Shaking my head and with hope fading, I looked down to a finger-width gap between the metal and the grass.
I touched at the metal, pushing against the cold with the palm of my hand. The panel moved away, then stopped as it hit against the concrete block on the other side. I leaned in with my shoulder, pushing with all my weight, but it held firm.
On the edge of tears, I felt a movement behind me. Spinning around, panicking when I couldn’t see Tommy waiting between the houses, there he was at my side with his shoulder pushing against the fence.
His gesture seemed to warm me a little inside. I stopped pushing and shook my head at him, forcing a smile as he stood upright.
“We’ll find another way,” I said in a whisper, watching as he nodded, blinking rapidly.
I thought about getting a car and ramming it through, questioning if it would even work. Looking back on the path we’d taken, there would be no chance of getting a car between the houses. But there were other places I could try, although I couldn’t remember if there were any that would break out close to the woods. And all this without being spotted by the soldiers.
With my hand still against the panel, an explosion rang out in the air, the pressure rumbling through the metal. Pulling my hand away, I looked down to Tommy peering up, his pale face mirroring my panic. Then his expression changed as the echo died. Ignoring the calls in the background, he raised his hand, grabbing mine from my side and gripping hard.
Nodding, I tried to take on his hope, despite the deep sounds coming from all around. The clatter of panels. The distance calls. Heavy boots against the tarmac. An explosion and occasional gunshot. Each sound amplified by the fence and reflected into the village.
My mind wandered to the sound wave experiments we’d done with string at school, followed by a rush of panic that I still hadn’t started revision.
I thought of the school. I had another week off until the end of the holidays but then I realised I may never have a normal life again. Or a life at all if I didn’t get my act together.
Despite the growing feeling of helplessness as I looked along the row of gardens, each empty beyond their low fences, I peered down the alley I’d come through. Looking that way and with a lull to the noise, there was nothing to show what was happening all around us.
A scream cried out, breaking my trance, the call echoing in the distance, leaving me feeling so exposed in the open space. A new panicked cry came, deeper than a woman could make, but the voice was soon replaced with the rush of feet. An explosion followed, sounding so close, then the shatter of glass. I took hope there must be other people who had survived, although I knew each moment that passed their number would shrink.
I couldn’t think about them; I had to worry about myself and Tommy.
Still staring out between the houses, my heart sank as with a heavy engine sound, what looked like a small tank drove across the narrow view.
Looking down to Tommy, his limp smile told me he’d seen it too. I turned away, the need to find a way out of the village growing with every moment.
Gripping Tommy’s hand tight, we ran along the backs of the gardens, the short fences at the end of the gardens to our left and the tall metal fence always present to our right. With each step I looked to the back of the houses, hurriedly searching for anything of use; something to help us climb or somehow get through the metal.
I peered to the sheds of all sizes, each with their doors shut up and a heavy padlock across the front. I imagined the tools inside, thinking back to the collection of junk my dad built up before he died; a collection Mum still hadn’t been able to throw away, despite Dad being gone for three years.
His memory forced my legs to slow as I tried to push away the thought of how things would have been different if he was still around. He would have taken charge. Dad would have known what to do without question. He would have kept Steve and Mum safe and would have told me exactly how to act.
But he wasn’t around and I had no choice but to shake away the thoughts, pushing down the anger that he was taken away so early in my