He ran like the wind was behind him, across the fields, across the underpass.... His first day at work. The job his dad scripted for him with his scary friend Ray. Ray with the bones tattooed on his neck. Nineteen years old. Out of school for three years. Meagre passes in his exams then the years of unemployment playing video games in his bedroom. Get a job his mum said. Took three years and his dad to show up again. Now he's late. He at the industrial estate and now he's got no idea how to get into the bloody place.
There it is. He can see the sign but no way around. He's due to start at 9am. It's 8:57. It could take another fifteen minutes to walk around these bloody fences...
Easier to climb. Climb the fence, across the courtyard. In on time. Working man.
To him it felt like an hour, but it was just under ten minutes. Ten minutes of screaming before someone heard him. Wasn't even anyone in the factory. They probably couldn't hear his pitiful cries above the noise of the machines. Some old guy in a flat cap walking a dog found him. A veteran of a forgotten war no doubt, someone who would investigate sounds of peril rather than walk hurriedly away. Workers came out of the factory alright, bit only after they heard the sirens of the emergency services. And they stood and watched amused while the rescue team carefully untangled him from the rails and barbed wire at the top of the fence.
His injuries were, for the most, superficial, more shock than anything, but that was that. He got a job at the supermarket the following year, but he was never the same. That cruel laughter. And his dad seemed so disappointed. He didn't come around much after that.