Traffic

Part 3

I walked up putting my hand against the door that had just closed and locked. It wouldn't bulge. Not like I expected it to, but there was a small shred of hope that now was just vanished.

"It's no use. We've all tried."

The voice was weak from behind me, but all I could see were the silhouettes of three people. Not their faces, their expressions, and I couldn't put the voice to which one but they all have been in this crate for a while.

Ignoring her, I started to bang and kick against the door taking out my anger on it, but the force only ended up hurting me when I felt a sharp pain erupt through my arm as a gash opened from hitting a sharp edge.

"Shit."

"I told you."

I sunk to the ground grabbing one of the bags he threw in full of bread and taking a roll for myself.

"You may have given up, but I'm finding a way out of this hell hole."

The girl laughed. Has she said the same thing before? "If your the Incredible Hulk, then by all means keep trying. A normal human can't break through a steel bar latch. It's basic fact."

"In terms of survival a human can do almost anything. Break through latches and even bite off there own fingers."

She laughed again. "This isn't exactly a game of survival. It's a game if jack in the box."

"I'm getting out of here, even if its the last thing I do."

"Oh, it very well be. Those people out there have basically wiped us off the planet, whose to say they can't track is down and hunt us like the demons they are."

I had to admit the fact that she was right. "How long have you been in here?"

"Three weeks. I'm from the jersey shore. Made a careless mistake of sleeping with the wrong guy, and here I am." She opened a bag and took out some bread and a bottle of water that was also thrown in. "So if you don't think I've tried every fucking thing, you really have to be full of yourself."

"I'm Kelsey." I think we broke the ice enough.

"Meg." Her head turns to the other two who haven't moved since I got in here. "That was Phoebe and Madison."

"Was?"

"Lets just say, they got would rather die than try."

I looked a little closer to see the one she called Madison with her jacket around her neck and hooked onto one of the latches of the crate.

She's only been dead for about two days, but the smell was already parting the body.

"Why haven't you killed yourself?"

"Is that any of your business?"

I shrugged my shoulders and took another bite of the bread that tasted like cake I was so hungry. "She's been dead for two day, and by the look of the other, it's been at least a week. Why are you still here?"

"I happen to like myself." She chuckled at her own little joke. "Besides, if I died, what is my little brother going to do?"

That caught my attention. I sprung up ready to listen to every word. "Your brothers probably called the police if you've been missing for three weeks."

"Don't get to excited. I told him I was at my friends house, not a bar, and I was still in jersey then. They would never go to New York to find me." She forced herself to stand wearing combat boots and jeans herself but with ample jackets piled on to keep her warm. Probably stolen from the other two corpses. "But it him that keep me going. He is only 15."

The pain came from meg and to me as a tear ran down my face feeling sympathetic. Which is rare for me since I've lived such a miserable life myself. There were four bags of bread, one for each person, but with two dead, I went ahead and took another bag for myself so I didn't have to ration as badly. "Where did you get the water?"

Ruffling plastic sounds and ten I heard a thud as a bottle hit my side.

"Knock yourself out."

And I did. I chugged the entire bottle down wiping away the drip that fell down my chin with my sleeve feeling strong again. My migraine had disappeared but my skin was longing the touch of sun.

Meg laughed at how thirsty I was. "Now if only we could start a fire."

"We can!" I got to excited, but I had an epiphany. Feeling my pockets trying to remember where I had kept them. Matches. I always had them with me so I could light people's cigarettes at the bar. Now, I just pray those jerks let me keep them.

"Don't mess with me--"

"I have matches."

With the speed that meg got up from the floor and over to my side you'd be surprised to hear she has been locked in this crate with nothing but a shred of humanity coming every three days to give her another round of food and water. An average human would have gone more than crazy, psychotic, possibly even started talking to the walls or having vivid hallucinations. How much longer are we going to be stuck in this prison? 

"Well come on bitch, light the damn things and get a fire going." Meg grew impatiently blowing her hot breath onto her hands to keep them thawed while I looked for something to use as tender. However we were in a crate, sealed on all sides and barley any holes for air or sunlight to get through. 

Four air holes. Each about two inches in diameter and located in the four corners of the crate. Anything would posion the air; even a few extra bodies that still need oxygen to circulate through their lungs. Or even to decompose. "We can't have a fire, not in here any ways. The best we can hope for is to light one of these and use it for more than a few seconds." 

"Then light one." 

The match doesn't light the first three times, but I can smell the charred end. On the fourth stike, it lights as I carefully put it between Meg and I. The first thing i see is her face. Dirty ratty blonde hair from staying in here for three weeks, brown eyes that are a little oddly shapped but somehoe fit with her high and large cheek bones. Her boots had vertical scratches on the soul that look like she dug them in with her finger nail. 

"What are the notches on your boot?" 

My finger tips were begining to burn as the flame grew closer, but I didn't want to let go of the only warmth in an iron room. 

She ran her fingers along them like it was the first time shes ever got to see her handy work. "Each notch is one day. There is 21 of them; three weeks worth." She held up her hand with mud and soot trapped in the finger nails and every single grouve in her skin was lined with black soil. "I just hope this whole big mess and crate and shit isn't what I think."

"What do you think it is?" 

The match burnt my skin as I dropped it on the steel floor, and it vanished leaving us in darkness once again. We were both quiet after that point.