Season 01 - Episode 07

‘behind the walls’

Ty is crawling through darkness. The conveyor belt beneath him is still. There is a jam somewhere which he must find and fix it. Despite his hard earned callouses, the rubber rubs his hands and knees raw. It has been a very long shift.

The belts of the box transit system are the arteries of The Levels. Through them flow all food and goods, parts and products, the lifeblood of The Levels. Without the box transit system, The Levels would starve and everything would collapse. Ty knows all this because Mr Kelpin has told him all this, again and again and again.

The Levels go on forever and so the tunnels and belts do too. No-one knows it all, but Ty knows this part well enough, like the back of his red raw hand. He crawls on through the darkness and occasional pools of cross cut light, slipping through vents in the walls.

They're not allowed to look through the vents, if they're caught it's instant dismissal. Everyone does though, just a peek as they pass, glimpsing the lives of others from behind the walls. Today Ty has seen a little old man, sat in an armchair staring. Yesterday he saw a young man crying, a box pusher weeping while working.

The jammed up machinery somewhere ahead is filling the tunnel with fumes. Hot and bitter, they sting his eyes and hurt his chest when he breathes too deep. Dad's old shirt is wet right through and sticks slickly all up his back.

Ahead is a sound, a grating of gears. He hurries towards it with purpose. The engine is whining, straining in vain. Ty knows the sound all too well. The fuse pin has rusted, broken and dropped.

Pulling a face, he reaches down, slips a thin arm in and under. He closes his eyes to concentrate, his fingers finding their way. He pushes and strains. The hole is too small. His wrist is too thick, despite his arm being so thin.

Six months ago he would have reached inside easy. He is growing while the tunnels stay narrow. Soon enough he will be too big to work. What will happen once his body betrays him? Why can't he stay small forever?

Ty shakes his head as sweat stings his eyes. He wipes it away with his free hand. His other hand fumbles, squeezes into the gap, ignoring the pain and the cutting. Gasping with effort, he finds the pin, broken in two as he'd thought.

Brand new pins are too hard to come by. Ty knows this like everyone else. He carefully grips the longer half of the pin and wedges it back into the fitting. After several attempts the part pin finds its home and the belt kicks back into life.

Ty braces himself against the ceiling and walls as the belt scrapes his bare legs harshly. He winces and moans as the belt skins his shins, working hard to pull out his hand. His fingers are free but his arm is still trapped. His long sleeve is snarled up in the bearings.

He twists himself over so the belt grates his shorts, sparing his fresh bloodied skin. Pulling frantic and hard he tries to break free but the fabric is bunched up and stuck. Now a rumbling sound creeps up from behind and Ty turns to squint through the darkness.

The flat metal face of a huge, heavy box appears in a patch of vent yellow. An industrial box full of engine parts, only machines can move or lift it. The box rolls towards him, slipping back into black. Now only sounds betray its approach.

If he can't break free in the next few seconds, the box will roll up and crush him. If there are more behind to pile up and press, then his death will be bloody and quick. If the box is alone it will pin him in place and thirst will kill him slowly.

Ty knows this is true because it's happened before. It comes with the job and is normal.

He struggles and struggles with tears on his face, breathing hard and heavy. The box rolls closer and he thinks of Mum. He feels bad for how much she will cry.

Thrashing and panting he hears a tearing of fabric and his arm is suddenly free. Scrambling away, he gets ahead of the box and escapes towards his next job. Dad's old shirt is torn to the shoulder.

Mum will be so disappointed.

©  a d a m   b y f i e l d , not to be reproduced in any form without written permission