4.3

Block Four

AFTER AN HOUR of chaos, word reached Four that no one had been shot. The injuries had been caused not by English bullets, which had been aimed skywards, but by American boots, which had trampled on fellow inmates. However, the mood was still grim as much of the block waited to hear from King Dick.

‘All our people back inside?’ The King’s voice was barely more than a growl.

‘Ain’t taken a count,’ said Habs, ‘but no one’s reported missin’.’

The King nodded but said nothing. He was sitting on his mattress, back against the wall, unlit pipe in one hand, club in the other. Alex and Jonathan sat together, perched, silent, watching.

‘Only reason the riot stopped,’ said Sam, who had appeared with a deep cut to his forehead, ‘is the firin’. But next time, that won’t stop nothin’. If we don’t get no wages, we won’t get no market.’

‘And then the peace will be worse than the war,’ said Habs. His words were considered in silence until Sam said what many were thinking.

‘Well, ain’t nothin’ for it. We gotta ’scape.’

Now the King spoke again. ‘I been in the tunnel.’

He waited for the gasps and exclamations to die away.

‘That’s where I was when the shootin’ started. No one’s been down there for a year or more, so I figured someone would want to see for themselves soon enough. Thought that person should be me.’ He paused, found a bottle from the folds of a blanket and drank deeply. There was a breathless silence as everyone waited for the King’s verdict.

‘It weren’t ever discovered ’cos Four is the worst point in the prison to start a tunnel. Why try? Block Four in the middle, farthest away from the walls – it never made no sense. But someone did try. Tunnel goes from the kitchen storeroom, jus’ behind where Mr Haywood stayin’, down maybe six feet, then out north-northeast for maybe fifteen feet. Still short o’ the palisades.’

There were some groans at that.

‘Nowhere near the military walk, and weeks o’ diggin’ from the outer wall. And the walls are crumblin’, fallen in in places …’

‘But it’s somethin’,’ said Sam. ‘And right now, if you asked for volunteers to get diggin’ again, you’d have a long line. You know that, King Dick.’

There were murmurs of approval around the mess and Habs shifted uncomfortably.

‘Where are the ships, King Dick?’ he asked. ‘’Cos if they’re close, most of us’ll wait, I reckon.’

The King hit his club against the wall with an angry backhand strike. Everyone jumped.

‘They are stalled, Mr Snow, they are stalled! Agent says our government and the British are arguin’ over who should pay for the ships and, until that is settled, we ain’t movin’. No one movin’. Now the war is over, no one wants to pay for nothin’.’

‘And what if they can’t stop with the arguin’?’ asked Sam. ‘What then?’

‘Then this place will burn,’ answered the King. ‘So we ain’t got that long.’

Joe caught his eye and the King shook his head, understanding instantly.

‘Today ain’t the day to put on a show, Mr Hill. I ain’t filling that cockloft with men in this state.’

‘Postpone the play?’ Joe asked.

‘Postpone the play,’ the King replied.