Gabriel cracks the door open, but he waits for a moment before stepping out and into the street. There is a strange man on the corner who is looking in his direction, and he decides to wait until this man moves off. However, this man continues to stare at Gabriel and he shows no sign of moving on his way. In fact, the man begins now to walk towards the shop, and when he reaches Gabriel he pushes open the door and stares at the wounded figure of Felix.
“What has happened here?”
Gabriel looks at Felix as though this is the first time that he has noticed his bleeding friend, but the man is now angry.
“I know who you are. What have you done to him?”
Gabriel realises that there is little that he can say, so he steps into the street and begins to walk off, all the while looking over his shoulder. When the strange man begins to shout, Gabriel increases his pace and then he breaks into a panic-stricken run.
Eventually Gabriel turns into Joshua’s street, where he once more slows to a walk, and he tries to compose himself. He climbs the stairs without any consideration of the noise that he is making, and when he reaches the storeroom he bangs quietly, but firmly, on the door and it opens before him. Joshua looks at Gabriel as though he is gazing upon a crazy man. Once they are safely inside the candlelit room, the older man turns to face his nephew.
“You are covered in sweat, and what is this? Blood?”
“I have your money.” Gabriel pushes his hand deep into his trouser pocket and he produces the crumpled notes. Joshua takes the money, but he neither counts it, nor does he take his eyes from his nephew’s face.
“Gabriel, you must tell me what you have done.”
Gabriel can see that the eyes of the other men in the room are once again upon him.
“Please, Joshua. I have the money.”
Joshua looks to the money and begins to count the notes.
“Gabriel, this is not two thousand dollars.”
Gabriel puts his hand into his pocket and pulls out the two gold rings.
“I have nothing else.” Gabriel presses the rings upon Joshua and resigns himself to his fate, but his uncle simply points to a corner of the dark room.
“Try to get some sleep. We will leave tonight.”
Gabriel nods.
A hand pushes Gabriel’s shoulder. He opens his eyes and sees Joshua bent over him. Beyond Joshua, Gabriel can see that the other men in the room are standing by the door clutching their bundles of belongings. The heat in the room suggests night. Gabriel rubs his eyes and climbs slowly to his feet.
“We have to go now. Are you all right?”
Gabriel shakes his head quickly as though trying to clear his mind. “Yes,” he says. “I am ready.”
Joshua turns from his nephew and addresses the group in a barely audible whisper. He instructs them to wait while he goes outside to check that everything is all right. He closes the door behind him and leaves the men alone in the candlelit room. The exhausted men look quizzically at each other, but nobody dares to speak. And then Joshua bursts back into the room and orders everybody to follow him. One after another the men tumble down the stairs, and as they run into the night they can hear the bursts of gunfire in the distance. Joshua points to a truck, and orders the men to quickly throw in their belongings and then climb up and into the vehicle.
“Lie down flat and be quiet.”
Gabriel is the last man to climb in, and no sooner has he found a small space in which to lie than he feels the oppressive weight of a heavy tarpaulin being tossed over him and tightly secured to the sides of the truck. As the engine roars to life, Gabriel realises that, trussed as they are like cargo, this first part of their journey is not going to be pleasant. He can feel the dampness of other men’s perspiring bodies, and it is not possible to distinguish whose arm or leg is pressing up against him. As the truck sets off through the narrow streets of the town, it sways first one way and then the other before the engine strikes a regular tone, which informs Gabriel that they must now be on the highway. Tiredness begins to conquer his body, but his fatigued mind is suddenly shipwrecked against images of his mother and poor Felix. Gabriel knows that if he is going to live again then he will have to learn to banish all thoughts of his past existence. There can be no sentiment. Hurtling blindly down this highway, he knows that if he is lucky the past will soon be truly past, and that with every gasp of the acrid air beneath the heavy tarpaulin, life is taking him beyond this nightmare and to a new place and a new beginning.
Gabriel opens his eyes. There is a putrid smell in the air. He tries to move his hands, but both his hands and his feet are strapped down and he cannot move. Above him there is another bed that acts like an artificial ceiling. His head feels light on his shoulders and Gabriel wonders how long he has been asleep. And then he remembers the tall, thin doctor and the needle, and being lifted onto this bed, and Said lying on the floor and nobody coming to help him. Gabriel looks out of the corner of his eye and he can see that they have removed the body of his friend, but the smell remains. Gabriel coughs, but immediately he feels a rasping dryness in his throat and he calls out.
“Please, I need some water.” His voice is surprisingly weak. The man in the next cell shouts back at him.
“Shut your mouth, scum.”
Gabriel waits a while, but after a few moments his thirst gets the better of him.
“Please, I need water.”
Gabriel can hear the television set in the distance, and he knows that the night warder will have his feet up on the desk. He also knows that the difficult man will only stir himself when the noise of Gabriel’s demands becomes too loud for him to concentrate properly. Gabriel closes his eyes and tries to ignore his thirst, but after a few minutes he hears the door to his cell being opened and he turns his head and sees the night warder holding a metal tray of food. The man puts the tray down, and as he does so he spills some of the weak tea out of the plastic cup. He leans over and begins to untie Gabriel.
“Bit bloody ripe in here, isn’t it?” The night warder stands back and watches as Gabriel rubs his wrists and ankles to make sure that the blood is flowing properly through them.
“I’ll come back for the tray when you’re done with it.”
Gabriel sits on the edge of the bed, but he waits until the man has left the cell before leaning over and picking up the tray and placing it on his knees.
“You fucking animal. I don’t know why they bother to feed you.”
Gabriel ignores the man and he begins to stuff the white bread and jam into his mouth as quickly as he can. Soon all of the food is gone and Gabriel is no longer hungry, but a raging thirst still causes his throat to burn. Gabriel finishes the tea and then slowly stands and crosses to the door of the cell. Once there, he looks down the corridor and sees the back of the television set and the man’s feet up on the desk.
“Please, Mr. Collins, some water.”
“Drink your own piss. Isn’t that what you lot do in the jungle?” The man next door begins to laugh at his own humour.