Broken Records

The night was filled with the natural rhythm of crickets chirping. Above, the dark sky seemed to be illuminated from behind, a deep indigo colour absorbed the vision of anyone whose gaze drifted upward. Amongst the rich hue were pinpricks of light that peered down to the open field below. The moon spilled white light onto the tall, dying stalks of corn that stood at attention across the landscape.

Trudging, only a third the height of most of the corn stalks, was Martin Matthews, a young boy with dark hair that was hardly ever tamed enough to keep from falling into his brown eyes. Every few steps he would use the back of his hand to push the strands out of his face. He glanced up ahead where two other young boys had already cleared a path in the corn. Harry, the boy only a couple meters ahead of him, was close to twice his size. He had broad shoulders and sandy blonde hair that his mother insisted he kept short. Not too far in the lead was Nate, the eldest of the boys and generally the one who conducted these late-night adventures. Both Nate and Harry were twelve years old, they were in the same class, and before Martin moved to Rosefield, they did everything together. Since Martin had moved in across the street from Harry and a block away from Nate he had been accepted into the established friendship, despite the three year age difference. Part of that friendship included sneaking out and exploring together, which made Martin nervous on a regular basis, but he didn’t want to be left behind either, and so he would tag along.

“Hold up, man,” Harry called up to Nate who was eagerly pushing stalks aside. Martin heard Nate stop and both boys turned to face Martin as he caught up to them. Martin looked down at his small feet, encased in clunky rubber boots that made every footstep a laboured one.

“You okay, Mart?” Harry asked, his voice always full of genuine care, “You don’t have to come all the way with us.”

“I’m fine, it’s just the boots slowing me down,” Martin replied, hoping his nerves would go unnoticed. He tried to control a shiver as a breeze rolled through and shuffled the dead leaves and ears of corn hanging off the hollowed stems. The dusty smell of hay reached their noses and Martin could hear the audible inhale from Nate in front. The night was beautiful, despite the eerily off-putting nature of their surroundings. All three boys felt the discomfort like it was laced in the air, but none would bring it up in conversation.

“We’re almost there anyway,” Nate said as he began to move forward again. Martin sighed to himself, having just caught up. They continued for another five minutes until they got past the edge of the corn field and into open space. A weathered path curled around the corn like a moat and Martin wondered if it had been made intentionally or if people had walked around the corn enough for it to prevent the grass from growing in those places. Nate ignored the path and walked toward a fence that closed off a sandy area.

“There she is, boys!” Nate stated with pride.

“What the hell is it?” Harry asked while Martin crossed the path to the fence.

“I’m not really sure,” Nate said as he ran a hand through his dark loose hair, wavy strands falling across his forehead. He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips before adding, “Yet.”

“I wonder why the gate goes up so high,” Harry added, looking up at the fence that curled in at the top, it was laced with barbed wire. “Doesn’t look like they want anyone getting in there.”

“Some rules are made to be broken,” Nate said with a smile, he gripped into the fence and began to climb.

“I don’t think that’s the best way to go,” Martin said quietly, almost to himself, but Nate stopped, having heard the meek voice. “Kid’s got a point,” Nate replied to them generally before letting go of the fence and dropping to his feet.

“Let’s walk around, see if we can find an opening,” Harry suggested.

“Okay, follow me,” Nate said, taking command again. Martin let his shoulders drop in disappointment when he knew he was out of view of the other boy. He was tired, despite his nerves, and he wanted to go home, but it was too late for that; He knew he couldn’t find his way back without Harry and Nate’s directions. He followed behind, keeping up as best he could while trying to figure out what might be inside the fence.

After another fifteen or twenty minutes tracing their way around the perimeter of the fence the boys found a gate door. Nate tried opening it, only to find it was locked tightly with a chain bound around the metal. “Dammit,” he muttered as he tried shaking it with more force. Harry pulled him back and reached what fingers could fit through the openings in the metal, just barely making contact with the lock. He fumbled with it a few times before eventually turning the lock to face them. It didn’t look easy to decipher and Martin didn’t even know how to try. It seemed like Harry had no idea either, but he gave it a few tries, his hands straining through the metal as he did. Time passed and the trio had no luck. The temperature had dropped and Martin was becoming increasingly nervous that they would get caught. Harry eventually gave up on the lock and stood back from it, examining the door.

“I don’t think we’re getting in tonight, Nate,” Harry told him.

“No. We did not come out here for nothing,” Nate replied, his usual determination to finish what he started. An adventure wasn’t over until Nate was satisfied. While the two boys were focused on the door Martin had spotted a fox inside the fenced in area.

“Hey, how did that fox get inside?” Martin asked, hoping this would get Harry and Nate to consider other possibilities.

“There’s a fox, where?” Harry asked, looking around.

“Right there,” Martin said, pointing a small finger through one of the fence holes toward the animal. Its thin, lanky frame slinking toward what appeared to be a bunker door.

Nate didn’t bother to look at the animal, instead he dropped to the ground, feeling at the bottom of the fence for a hole it could have crawled through. Eventually he found a small break in the metal, enough for a thin animal to fit through, but not much else.

“This must be it,” Nate said as he pointed his phone’s flashlight on the opening.

“I’m not going to make it through there,” Harry pointed out, “I’d hardly get past my legs!”

“Same here,” Nate said, his voice full of disappointment. Then he looked over at Martin, who couldn’t help but feel even smaller than he already was. “You could fit though, couldn’t ya?”

“Maybe we can find something to make the hole bigger,” Martin suggested meekly, not wanting to go alone.

“I don’t think we can without something that can bite through the metal,” Nate replied, “but I can give you my phone to take pictures and show us what it’s like inside the bunker there.”

Martin swallowed hard but tried not to show it. Nervously, he took the phone from Nate, only to hear Harry speak up, “You don’t have to do this, we can head back.”

“Harry, look at how close we are! It’s right there, Mart can just crawl in, check the door and see if it’s open. If not, we’ll go home.”

“And if it is?” Harry asked, a harsh tone to his words. Silence was the response that overwhelmed them because they all knew the answer. It terrified all of them.

“It’s okay,” Martin said quietly, clutching Nate’s phone with his small, sweaty hands. Harry looked down at him with wide and worried eyes. “I’ll go and see,” Martin responded and then proceeded to kneel before the hole in the fence.

“Oh man, I’m so excited! Use flash when taking photos, I cleared space on my phone so that we can get lots of pictures,” Nate said as Martin crawled through carefully, not wanting to get caught on any of the jagged pieces of metal.

“If you’re going inside, call me and we’ll talk to you,” Harry told him, “my number is in Nate’s phone already.” Martin nodded as a response when he made it fully through the hole in the fence. He took a deep breath and made eye contact with Nate whose smile filled his face, and then Harry, whose face was taken over more by dread or worry. Martin put on a strong face, gave a quick nod and turned toward the piles of sand. As he trekked over them in his rubber boots he realized these hills of sand were, in fact, dry and crumbling dirt. He had a brief moment of panic, wondering if it was really a bad idea for him to be there. If this wasn’t sand, why was there no grass? And why was it closed off? Was there something wrong with this place? He was sweating now, more than he was on the walk over, but his sweat was cold. His hands were clammy and his mouth was dry. The air felt empty around him as he moved farther from Harry and Nate. He climbed to the top of one of the dirt mounds and spotted the fox again. The thin animal was looking at him expectantly, as if it were patiently waiting for him to approach. He stopped moving, fearing that the animal may be a threat to him. When neither him nor the fox moved for quite some time he assumed it was just as scared as he was. He moved closer with caution and the fox began to move more freely too, looking back at him as if it were encouraging him to follow.

Martin glanced back at his friends who were waiting by the fence, he could barely make out their features in the dark, but he could feel them watching him as he moved closer to the bunker door. Finally, when he reached the slanted brick of the bunker opening and made contact with the black steel door he felt his heart deep in his chest, pound after pound. His mouth was so dry that it tasted like metal all the way down into his throat. He brought his hand to the door handle, a lever of sorts, and, with all the force he could muster, he pushed it up vertically. There was a loud grinding and then it went quiet for a moment. He realized he had been clenching his eyes shut very tightly, terrified to know if the door was open. When it had been quiet for a couple moments longer, Martin slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Nothing had changed, he was still in the dark, hand on the door, the door was still aligned shut with the door frame. And there was the fox again, sitting and staring at him, merely a meter to his right. He made eye contact with the fox for a second and then there was a loud boom and a shocking brightness all around him that made his eyes close reflexively. The light seemed to break through his eyelids, forcing his eyes to adjust. When they did he opened them to see that the fox had disappeared from view, obviously startled by the sudden light.

Harry and Nate called into the fenced area, “Martin! Martin!” Martin turned to them, pulling on the door as he turned and feeling the heaviness of the metal weigh him down, but give to the motion. The door opened. Martin was filled with fear and excitement, but his friends were shouting for him still. He pulled Nate’s phone up into view and went to contacts to try and find Harry. Once he found the name Harry Weston he hit dial and waited, slowly bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Martin!” Harry answered into the phone.

“The door is open.”

“You don’t have to go in, Martin, it’s fine, we’re all pretty scared.”

“But I’m here now, I think I’ll go,” Martin said, though he couldn’t believe he was saying it.

“We can stay on the line if you want, Mart,” Nate said, though it came through the phone sounding rather distant. Martin agreed and with a heave, he pulled the door open enough for him to slip inside the dark entrance. There were low hanging lights that came on when they detected his movements and the stairs that lead deep into the bunker were illuminated before him. Martin stood for a long moment at the top of the staircase as he counted the stairs he had yet to descend. There were at least thirty in view and Martin’s heart was already pounding at the thought of moving forward.

“You still there, bud?” Harry’s voice came over the phone and Martin was brought back to reality.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of stairs, I’m just wondering where they lead,” he replied quietly into the microphone. As he said it he began to step down them, careful with every footfall. “What’s going on out there?” Martin asked.

“Not much of anything, the lights are still on, but I don’t see anyone around aside from us.”

“Do you see the fox? I think the light startled him so he may have run out, he’s friendly though, I think.”

“I didn’t see the fox, no, but I didn’t see one to begin with,” Nate said.

“Yeah, same, no fox in sight,” Harry added.

“How did neither of you see the fox?” Martin asked, annoyed that they might think he was making it up.

“I don’t know, man, what do you see in there?” Nate asked

“I think I’m getting to the end of the stairs,” Martin replied, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady. He was nervous still, but there was a sense of safety in the bunker that he didn’t quite understand. It was quiet, but there was enough light that he didn’t need to use the flashlight on Nate’s phone. Finally he saw where the stairs opened up to a large room with a bunch of old computers in rows on tables around the edges of the square room. There was a main computer in the center, much bigger than the others and there was a cardboard box sitting out near the old chair that was left in front of the dusty keyboard.

“Whoa,” Martin breathed, forgetting that his friends were on the phone.

“What?” Nate’s voice came over the phone, slightly broken up over the quick loss of signal.

“I think the phone’s not gonna work down here,” Martin told the boys over the line and then informed them that he was going to hang up, feeling relatively safe in the bunker. Nate was reluctant to let the call go but insisted on Martin taking photos, something he had forgotten to do on the way down. Harry told him to be careful and keep his boots on, just in case. And with that, Martin hung up the call and turned the phone camera on to take pictures of the room. As he was moving around, looking at the old computers he noticed that they were all dusty, aside from some letters that he assumed had been used recently, but he was not sure by whom. He took pictures of the keyboards, chairs, walls, screens, floor, and stairs before finally turning to the main computer bank in the middle of the room.

He took the mandatory pictures of the layout and then he took a picture of the cardboard box beside the chair. There was a lid on it that concealed the contents from him. He crouched beside it, feeling the thick material of his rubber boots resist the movement and press against his legs. The cover was easy to remove and inside Martin found stacks of old tapes, lined up four by seven, but one tape was missing, leaving a vacancy in the organized lines. Martin looked around the box and under the tables and chairs around the room. He couldn’t find the missing tape anywhere. When he realized how much time he’d spent looking he went back to the box and examined the tapes that were there. Each one had something etched on the side, some he wasn’t able to read as the labels had been chipped at over time or the writing had since faded.

As he flicked through the labels, taking pictures as he went he heard a clicking start behind him. He froze, his heart beat increasing again. He awkwardly moved his legs out from under him, his boots making the movements more difficult to accomplish as they squeaked against each other. He turned to see the room exactly as he left it. Furrowing his brow, Martin stood up and listened closely. He decided that the sound was mechanical and a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned his head quickly to look at a clear frame that held a cassette tape clicking as the machine tried to turn its spires, the tape straining to continue, despite being fully finished playing.

Martin moved over to the machine and hit the stop button, bringing it to a halt. He paused and then hit the rewind button, like he had seen on his remote control at home. The cassette whirred as it launched the tape backward, bringing him to the beginning. He watched, mesmerized by the ever growing spool on the right side of the cassette. There was a final click that made him jump in place and he stood still for a moment, hesitant to press play. He stepped back and hoisted himself up onto the chair that faced the computer bank. Suddenly there was a humming that started behind him and seemed to move through the floor and up the chair. There was a blur of recorded voices that spun through the air, different voices, overlapping each other as they all tried to say something, but nothing came through clearly. Martin froze in his seat, listening to the voices. Just as suddenly a series of buttons lit up across the computer bank in front of him. He watched as the green lights danced across the keyboard and the screen of the computer activated. The recorded voices grew louder, projecting from the old speakers around the room. Martin shut his eyes and covered his ears until it all stopped. When his eyes opened again there was only one light blinking in front of him. The play button.

He removed his hands from his ears and looked around at the computers. There was no sound again, simply this one blinking button. He realized that Harry and Nate were still outside, probably wondering what was going on, but the phone would not let him reach them. Martin bit at his lip as he contemplated pressing the button. He glanced at the box of tapes again and then reached for the button. Stretching his thin arm to the desktop, he applied a light amount of pressure to push the button down. The tape shook in the player for a moment and then jolted into forward motion.