crumbs.
Jez’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could make out more and more inside the container. There were empty water bottles laying all over the floor, along with tin food cans and faeces, dotted about like mines. A small pile of mutilated rat remains occupied a corner to the right of the door.
“Have they been eating them?” One of the constables exclaimed, pointing at the pile.
Further back inside were large cardboard boxes stacked high and several sleeping bags. The container was still too dark to see all the way back. Jez cupped his hands to his eyes to narrow his vision, but then felt a hand pulling him back out of the container.
“Out.” It was Palmer.
“Ok, ok.”
Jez walked up to Pete, who was still leaning up against the forklift, he parked himself next to him and reached for his tobacco.
“Everyone out.” Palmer demanded.
Deafening screams bellowed from the back of the container. Jez stood upright, startled. Everyone stared deep into the darkness, squinting, in hope of a better view. Several officers and the paramedics started to edge backwards. The screams were ear piercingly high pitched. Jez reached up and cupped his hands over his ears, reluctant to look like he couldn’t handle the noise, but soon saw that everyone else was doing the same.
“It sounds like more kids. Loads of them.” one constable yelled.
Shadows started to slowly emerge from the darkness and blunder towards the front of the container. But they weren’t children. Far from it. A large man stepped out to the front. He stopped at the doorway, the toes on his bare feet hanging over the lip of the entrance, inches from the dead girls head. He ignored the girl, laid dead at his feet. Something was very wrong with this man. More figures edged out from the darkness behind him. To his left a woman and his right another man, with more behind.
The man stepped out of the container onto the dock floor, and into the light. The girl’s blood squelching between his toes. He was clearly a black African man, but his skin was so pale, almost white. It hung off his bones like wet washing. He was wearing a dirty green t-shirt, stained red around the neck, and denim shorts. He must have been only in his mid-twenties, but his once dark hair was showing signs of grey. He scanned his surroundings, his head making jerky movements like he was trying to see an annoying fly buzzing around his face. The light was occasionally catching his features. The skin was flaking all over his pasty gaunt body, but most striking of all, was the blood. He was breathing heavily like he was struggling for air, and blood sprayed from his open mouth onto his shirt with every exhale. Blood also dripped from his nose but more noticeably it was seeping from his red swollen eyes.
“Oh my god, they’re diseased.” Pete winced, as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand.
Slowly the woman edged out into the light and stood at the dead girl’s feet. She had been black once too and probably in her thirties. She was wearing a blue dress that was badly stained with dark blood down her chest. Her blooded eyes blinked into the light and blood gathered over her tear ducts as her eyes closed, before dripping down her cheeks onto her neck as she opened them again.
Time seemed to move in slow motion as more and more figures drifted out of the darkness and gathered at the doorway. In reality, only moments had passed since the horror of the young girl laid bleeding out onto the dock was revealed to the unsuspecting gathering of officials. One of the paramedics slowly edged towards the man at the front with a blue cotton blanket raised to offer him some comfort. He clocked the
Jez’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could make out more and more inside the container. There were empty water bottles laying all over the floor, along with tin food cans and faeces, dotted about like mines. A small pile of mutilated rat remains occupied a corner to the right of the door.
“Have they been eating them?” One of the constables exclaimed, pointing at the pile.
Further back inside were large cardboard boxes stacked high and several sleeping bags. The container was still too dark to see all the way back. Jez cupped his hands to his eyes to narrow his vision, but then felt a hand pulling him back out of the container.
“Out.” It was Palmer.
“Ok, ok.”
Jez walked up to Pete, who was still leaning up against the forklift, he parked himself next to him and reached for his tobacco.
“Everyone out.” Palmer demanded.
Deafening screams bellowed from the back of the container. Jez stood upright, startled. Everyone stared deep into the darkness, squinting, in hope of a better view. Several officers and the paramedics started to edge backwards. The screams were ear piercingly high pitched. Jez reached up and cupped his hands over his ears, reluctant to look like he couldn’t handle the noise, but soon saw that everyone else was doing the same.
“It sounds like more kids. Loads of them.” one constable yelled.
Shadows started to slowly emerge from the darkness and blunder towards the front of the container. But they weren’t children. Far from it. A large man stepped out to the front. He stopped at the doorway, the toes on his bare feet hanging over the lip of the entrance, inches from the dead girls head. He ignored the girl, laid dead at his feet. Something was very wrong with this man. More figures edged out from the darkness behind him. To his left a woman and his right another man, with more behind.
The man stepped out of the container onto the dock floor, and into the light. The girl’s blood squelching between his toes. He was clearly a black African man, but his skin was so pale, almost white. It hung off his bones like wet washing. He was wearing a dirty green t-shirt, stained red around the neck, and denim shorts. He must have been only in his mid-twenties, but his once dark hair was showing signs of grey. He scanned his surroundings, his head making jerky movements like he was trying to see an annoying fly buzzing around his face. The light was occasionally catching his features. The skin was flaking all over his pasty gaunt body, but most striking of all, was the blood. He was breathing heavily like he was struggling for air, and blood sprayed from his open mouth onto his shirt with every exhale. Blood also dripped from his nose but more noticeably it was seeping from his red swollen eyes.
“Oh my god, they’re diseased.” Pete winced, as he covered his mouth and nose with his hand.
Slowly the woman edged out into the light and stood at the dead girl’s feet. She had been black once too and probably in her thirties. She was wearing a blue dress that was badly stained with dark blood down her chest. Her blooded eyes blinked into the light and blood gathered over her tear ducts as her eyes closed, before dripping down her cheeks onto her neck as she opened them again.
Time seemed to move in slow motion as more and more figures drifted out of the darkness and gathered at the doorway. In reality, only moments had passed since the horror of the young girl laid bleeding out onto the dock was revealed to the unsuspecting gathering of officials. One of the paramedics slowly edged towards the man at the front with a blue cotton blanket raised to offer him some comfort. He clocked the
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