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Horst had given Ines the task of testing an old CD player.
She had initially been offended at being given such a simple job, but then quickly realised the scientist’s intention. Ines loves music, everyone knows that. She’s never seen without her headphones in, listening to the small selection of songs downloaded onto her phone. He’d explained to her how he found the bulky CD player in a box when they first arrived at their new base, and that it could be useful in establishing clearer telecommunication links. Ines hadn’t really understood, but smiled at the thought of hearing new songs. She’s grown tired of the same ten songs on repeat.
So the next day, Ines finds herself outside the base, sitting alone in a circle of camping chairs. The sky is clear and speckled with stars, and the moon shines bright just above the horizon. She sighs as she places the rusting device in the middle of the circle. The nights are getting colder, especially nights as clear as this, and she would much prefer doing this in the warmth of the bunker.
Only, the bunker is currently occupied by a party that Ines isn’t planning on attending.
When they had first arrived at this new base- their ‘safe haven’- it was a wave of relief for everyone, or, for almost everyone. Their months of running, fighting and death were over, and they could finally establish themselves in this new world. Rana had been so happy that she announced she was throwing a party. The young scientist had spent the last week painting banners, planning the food, and even getting Osman to help her build something to resemble a drinks’ bar.
Whilst Ines tries to respect the others’ excitement, she struggles to see a reason to celebrate. Something at this new base is guaranteed to go wrong; that’s just how it is in this new world. If it isn’t being burnt alive by the sun or being blown up by an unknown missile, then it’ll be someone dying after getting locked in a room, or perhaps she’ll fuck everything up again and set fire to the food, or-
“Hello.”
Ines’ thoughts are interrupted as she looks up to see Sylvie walking towards her from the entrance of the base. She’s holding a drink, probably sourced from Rana’s make-shift bar, and her cheeks are slightly flushed. The younger woman smiles lightly at the arrival, grateful to be brought out of her own head.
“Is the party too much for you?’ She asks, referencing to the exasperated look on the older woman’s face. Her eyes appear weary- wearier than usual. Sylvie huffs a laugh in agreement.
“I was looking for you actually, but yes.”
Ines laughs slightly and gives Sylvie a look of understanding. From what she heard of Rana’s plan; the party didn’t sound like something the older woman would warm to. She can’t imagine Sylvie doing the limbo.
“Can I sit?” Sylvie gestures to a camp chair opposite Ines, and the younger woman nods. She then pauses in confusion, suddenly processing what the helicopter pilot had just said.
“Why were you looking for me?”
Sylvie shrugs as she settles into the chair.
“I thought you liked parties. I didn’t want you to miss out.”
Ines sighs shakily. Partying is something she loves; she can’t lie to herself about that. The adrenalin and the unpredictability of an event can make her feel truly alive- and the feeling of being alive was something she used to crave when the influencer world had felt so fake and forced. But to party now just feels… wrong.
Besides, she now feels alive in other ways; mainly through everyone else being dead.
She shuffles awkwardly in her seat before she speaks up.
“I do… or I did. I just don’t feel like it right now.”
Sylvie tilts her head, her light expression dropping slightly.
“What’s wrong? It’s not like you to- “
“I’m fine.”
Ines’ tone was harsher than she had intended. She scuffs her feet against the dusty ground and fiddles with the zip on her jacket. Sylvie shoots her a sympathetic expression, sensing the younger woman’s discomfort, and then looks towards the ground. Not wanting to pry further, she sips her drink silently for a minute before Ines speaks up again.
“I’m testing out this CD player, Horst asked me to.”
Sylvie glances at the rusty device with a look of uncertainty on her face. She doubts if the neglected machine would even turn on.
“Do you have any CDs?”
Ines reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a singular disk, twirling it with her fingers.
“This is the only one Horst found. The writing is in another language, but I think it’s a homemade playlist or something.”
Sylvie watches the way the spinning disk dances light onto the ground before sitting up in her chair.
“Try it.” She says, shuffling closer to CD player.
Ines leans forward and tentatively inserts the disk into the machine. The small action reminds her of her father, and how he taught her how to use a record player many years ago. She presses play and the pair are instantly met with the first introductory notes to a song.
“It works,” exclaims Sylvie with a tone of surprise.
“It does,” Ines agrees.
She leans back and rests her head on the back of the camp chair.
As she looks up to the sky, she thinks to herself how it is starrier here than at the bunker in Bulgaria. After everything that happened when they fled to Svalbard and arrived to find a disaster zone, those long nights operating the radio feel distant. In reality, Ines knows their time in Bulgaria was just eight weeks ago, and that this whole new world has only been in existence for four months. Time has passed in such a way that she feels like she’s lived decades within sixteen weeks. She feels guilt for not properly mourning Zara and Dominik- although, she’s barely come to terms with the fact that her mother, father and brother are long gone too, still lying where they fell the minute the sun hit them.
But it’s not like they had a chance to reflect whilst on their journey. Disaster after disaster, death after death; no time to stop and think- doing so would have been a fatal mistake on many occasions.
The music begins to swell, and Ines identifies the piece as a folk song that’s seemingly lacking vocals. The melody consists of jingles and bells, with a stringed instrument playing alongside. It’s dull, but calming, and her thoughts slip away to the timings of the beat.
As the instrumental song eventually begins to fade out, Ines is able to hear a faint buzz of activity from inside the shelter. It’s an inviting sound, consisting of the chiming of cutlery, the rustle of moving people, and above all else, the chatter of warm voices. Yet, the voices aren’t just talking, they’re laughing too. Full, genuine laughs that almost sound foreign. The sound echoes in her chest and she’s suddenly struck with an emotion that she can’t quite name.
It's not that she’s suddenly experiencing nostalgia about her past lifestyle, in fact, the one thing she’s enjoyed about this nightmarish new world is no longer being the talking point of gossip. Still, the feeling tugs at her emotions and she quickly feels restless.
“Did you like that one?” Sylvie asks, looking up from her drink to meet the younger woman’s eyes.
Ines tries to hide her agitation and pulls a displeased face.
“It was okay, but super boring.”
She watches as Sylvie leans forwards and fiddles with the buttons on the CD player, allowing the next song to be played. The older woman waits for the song to begin before settling back into her seat.
It’s a slow, haunting song that sounds familiar.
-
‘Poor old Jim's white as a ghost,
he's found the answer that we lost,
we're all weeping now, weeping because there ain't nothing we can do to protect you.
O children,
lift up your voice, lift up your voice.’
-
The feeling of restlessness becomes too much for Ines. She needs to do something, urgently.
“Dance with me,” she says abruptly, standing up and looking at Sylvie with intent.
The older woman’s head shoots up. She then lets out a small chuckle at the surprising request and quickly shakes her head.
“Dancing isn’t my thing. Perhaps Felix will- “
“Please?”
Sylvie furrows her brow and looks up at the younger woman’s face directly. It’s painted with an expression equally composed of sincerity, gentleness and determination. She struggles to understand why her fellow survivor would be so serious about dancing.
Ines taps her foot impatiently and extends her arm out to offer a hand up. Sylvie sighs, it doesn’t appear that she’ll get a say in the matter.
“Fine. Whatever.”
-
‘Children.’
-
Ines grins in triumph as she grabs Sylvie’s hands, pulling her up from her chair to her feet, and Sylvie can’t help but crack a reluctant smile.
-
‘Rejoice, rejoice.
Hey little train! We are all jumping on,
the train that goes to the Kingdom,
we're happy, Ma, we're having fun,
and the train ain't even left the station.’
-
Ines awkwardly takes the older women’s hands in hers and begins to sway in time to the harrowing tune of the song. Sylvie blushes and sheepishly looks around, obviously wanting to resist the awkward, undignified movements. It’s robotic and out of time, and Ines can only laugh. She lifts up her right arm and giggles in amusement at the older woman’s eye roll.
“Spin?” Ines asks, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
“Just one.”
Sylvie pulls a face as she ducks under Ines’ arm and turns around, the bright moonlight catching her eyes as she spins. She then raises her own arm.
“Your turn. Spin.”
Ines exhales a laugh at Sylvie’s commanding tone as she clumsily turns around.
-
‘Hey, little train! Wait for me!
I once was blind but now I see.
Have you left a seat for me?
Is that such a stretch of the imagination?’
-
They try to fall into a rhythm as the chorus repeats itself once more. Ines’ outstretched arms pull the older woman closer in a slow shimmy, moving in time to the beat of the song, and she smiles as Sylvie begins warm up to the dance.
She feels the cool, night breeze skim the back of her neck and she shivers, moving clunkily for a few beats.
Sylvie raises her eyebrows.
“You’re not very good at slow dancing,”
“Shut up.”
-
‘Hey little train! Wait for me!
I was held in chains but now I'm free.
I'm hanging in there, don't you see?
In this process of elimination.’
-
Ines wasn’t hearing the lyrics at first, but now they begin to resonate with her and the journey she’s recently been on. Accompanied with the gentle motion of being swayed in the moonlight, she suddenly feels like she could cry. The emotion builds in her chest, but she laughs through it as Sylvie offers her the chance to spin around again. As she twirls, she catches the sight of the moon, now higher in the sky.
For a split second, it makes Ines wonder if she’ll ever see the sun again.
Many of her happiest moments have been in the sun. From partying on the beach at the age of nineteen, to the idyllic picnics she’d have with her family at the age of six- it’s the small memories of white sand, laughter and cartwheels that she holds close. As she pictures them, the joy feels so close, but so incredibly out-of-reach given her current situation; she wants it closer.
Ines realises that she wants to feel happy again. She wants to relive those precious moments she had in the sun, even if it’ll now have to be under a starry sky instead. She desperately wants to feel the excitement and elation felt by the other survivors.
But it’s not that easy.
She looks to Sylvie, who is silently moving them both in unison; now gently rocking their outstretched arms from side to side. She wonders if the older woman feels the same.
-
‘Hey little train! We are all jumping on,
the train that goes to the Kingdom.
We're happy, Ma, we're having fun,
it's beyond my wildest expectation.’
-
As the music begins to fade, Ines stands limply, not sure on what to do with herself.
“So what was that about?” Sylvie asks with lightly exasperated expression, her hands letting go of Ines’ and falling to her sides. Her smile fades, however, when she notices tears beginning to well in the younger woman’s eyes. Ines begins to stutter a response.
“I just wanted to feel something, like… I want to be happy again, but it’s hard.”
The younger woman tries to look away, but Sylvie immediately studies her face, trying to decipher the reason for her sudden change in mood.
“Hmm?”
“It’s like, how the fuck can they feel they so happy?” She gestures to the entrance of the base where the sound of commotion continues to emerge from, “everyone is still dead, Zara and Dominik are still dead. We’re not safe. Horst is struggling to grow us food. We’re not safe.”
Ines grips onto Sylvie’s shoulder as tears trickle freely down her face.
“Okay,” the older woman sighs sympathetically. She places a firm hand on Ines’ other shoulder, guiding the younger woman’s attention towards her.
“It’s not my job to tell you that everything will be okay, because I don’t know what’s going to happen. But what I can tell you is that where we are right now, is the safest place we can be.”
Ines sniffs as she looks up to meets Sylvie’s eyes. She nods at her words and quickly tries to remove any traces of tears from her face.
“I just want to feel happy.” She admits quietly after a moment of pause.
Sylvie looks towards the ground and contemplates her own situation. Everything Ines has said is reflected in her own thoughts. She wants to feel content in the fact she’s led a group of survivors to the end of the world, and she wishes she could feel happier about how she has forged unique bonds with people in the process. But it isn’t that easy. After everything, it can’t be that easy.
She pats Ines on the shoulder.
“I understand.”
They stand in thoughtful silence for a minute before Sylvie finally speaks up, raising her eyebrows playfully.
“Making me dance seemed to work.”
Ines chokes a giggle. She hadn’t laughed as much as she just did since the early days of Bulgaria, and even then, that had usually been forced to make conversations with Markus less awkward. This was different.
“Yeah, it did.”
Sylvie drops her hand from Ines’ shoulder and smiles lightly.
“You can take your time processing everything, but you’re also allowed to be happy, okay? You deserve it, you survived.”
Ines nods again, but with a little less confidence. She’s not sure if she’s deserving of anything; in comparison to Horst, Laura and Mathieu, she feels as though she hasn’t contributed much to the group’s survival. She tries not to dwell on that thought though, and instead turns her attention to older woman. She looks up at the pair of weary eyes that led the group to safety.
“Are you happy Sylvie?”
Sylvie sighs. She goes to speak but pauses briefly, calculating what her next words should be.
“I’m trying to feel something,” she finally manages, shrugging slightly before forcing a small smile on her face, “we can try together.”
The CD player suddenly whirrs into action and begins playing the next song, which seems to be something more pop-orientated. Ines jumps at the sound, before quickly pausing the music and picking up the rusty device.
“Now we know the CD player works, you should bring it inside to the party. Horst won’t mind,” Sylvie suggests, tilting her head as she tries to gauge Ines’ reaction.
The younger woman succumbs to the gentle encouragement and grins.
“The party probably does need some music,” she admits.
Sylvie huffs a laugh at her response.
“It really does. And you need a drink. Shall we go?”
The older woman picks up her own drink as the pair begin to wander back to the bunker’s entrance. Ines peers inside her plastic cup.
“What are you even drinking?”
The duo laugh at the strange-coloured cocktail sitting in the cup.
“No idea.”