Typo

Chapter 2: Barcode

Chapter 2: Barcode

~E L L I O T~

The whole cattle car seems to be listening to the clicks of the wheels as closely as I am. Because when the pauses between each click seem to extend– meaning the train is slowing down– the car seems to erupt into chatter. With our close proximity combined with the heat of summer, everyone is delighted with the slight possibility of exiting the heat trap.I wipe sweat from my forehead. 

I look out the window and it is now broad daylight. I lost track of time when the sun rose and now the sun is about half way to its peak. I see nothing but miles of fields with the hot sun beating down on the grass. I stick my head out the window to see if there is a train station anywhere in sight. My wariness rises when I see nothing. Oliver looks up at me from his position on the floor. He furrows his eyebrows in question and my only response being a simple shrug of my shoulders. 

Leo has thankfully woken up and is peacefully sitting in Oliver’s lap. Oliver seems to be worrying about him more than anyone else– including my mother. When I told him Leo has a fever he must of spent a half an hour asking around the train for water. He’s been cuddling a complaining Leo to his chest ever since. 

It almost seems miraculous when the train screeches to a halt. Several people let out joyous yelps with the assumption that we would be let off the train. While the suspicious few– including myself– stay silent.

“Why have we stopped? There is nothing here.” Quiet compared to the excited whooping of the group, I’m glad to here at least someone shares my concerns. I turn my head to Victoria– a Typo who works at a bakery in the square– looking out the window with the same puzzled expression that I am sure is mirrored on my own.

We are all startled when the door to the train is suddenly thrown open. A man in camouflage– meaning he is a citizen of the city volunteering in the army– stands in the door way and observes us with menacing eyes. His skin is bright pink, obviously severely sunburned; and it makes him look angry.

“Exit the train one by one.” The soldier sneers before stepping out of the doorway to let us out. The person nearest to the exit hesitates. He looks back at the rest of us with wary eyes before stepping out of the train. After that, I can’t see what goes on from my position. A women follows behind him and one by one, Typos exit the cramped cattle car into the summer heat. I am in the corner furthest from the door and my anxiety grows at the slow pace of our escape. I am just itching to get out of here. 

Out of the corner of my eye I see a women I recognize trying to wake up her son who I have seen at the clinic a couple times. The seventeen year old boy has asthma and his mother is over protective brings him in if he even sneezes. Now the boy lays unconscious on the floor while his mother lightly taps his cheeks in an attempt to wake him. There are several unconscious bodies scattered about the car. Most of them have family crouched over them while others have been abandoned. 

My family, Oliver, and I huddle together, Oliver holding a barely awake Leo on his arms. My mother’s eyes are wide and frantic. Oliver looks tired. And Blair has an odd look on her face. I flash her a strained and confused smile. She pauses for a beat, biting down on her bottom lip before she begins to giggle.

We all stare at my sister with blank expressions as she covers her mouth to try and contain her chortling. Blair’s smile doesn’t match the red rings around her eyes, tear stained cheeks, and red nose– all from crying. Her happily light laughter is in no way appropriate for the situation we are in. 

“It’s finally happened. She’s gone crazy.” Oliver says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. My twin continues to giggle quietly to herself as people file out of the train. The inquiry that laugher is contagious is quickly verified when Oliver and my mother begin to chuckle along with her. I find myself suppressing a smile for no reason at all.