Persona (The Island Book 2) Read online

  “I know. I saw it in your eyes.”

  “I came so close,” I tell her, almost trembling with shock. “I almost cut his throat.”

  “But you didn't.”

  “This place has changed so much,” she continues. “I wasn't here right at the start, but I came not long after, remember? I know five years is a long time, but I think we did pretty well. Or rather, you did pretty well. This place was your idea.”

  “It was Jude's at first,” I point out.

  “I never met Jude,” she replies, “but she didn't see it through. You did.”

  “I'm losing it,” I tell her.

  She shakes his head.

  “You saw me just now. I'm not strong enough. I buckled. I'm weak.”

  “You stood up to a crowd of fifty people who wanted blood,” she replies, as she continues to carve a length of wood. “That doesn't seem weak to me. Giving in and doing what they wanted, that would have been weak.”

  “I'm still going to lose control,” I tell her. “Whether it's in a week, or a month, at some point I'll be pushed out. They're not happy with how I run things.”

  “There've always been people who disagree,” she mutters. “Do what you've always done. Remind them they're free to leave and set up their own town. This place is yours.”

  “There are too many of them now,” I reply. “At some point, they'll tell me that I'm the one who should leave.”

  “It's your town.”

  “I never wanted to be a dictator,” I continue. “The whole thing has grown so fast, I just -”

  Before I can finish, I spot several men making their way through the forest, trailing three strangers – two men and a woman – who seem a little shocked and dazed. Each of the strangers is wearing a clean gray tunic and carrying the remains of their canopy, and I watch for a moment as they're taken to our town. It's been several months since the last drop, and I'd begun to wonder why the pace was slowing down. In the back of my head, it had even occurred to me that maybe the island wasn't popular anymore, that we'd just be left to rot. Somehow, it actually feels good to know that the rest of the world is still out there.

  “Three new arrivals on one day?” Olivia mutters, unable to hide the hint of surprise in her voice. “That must be a record, huh?”

  “They must have been dropped pretty close,” I point out with a frown, as I keep my eyes fixed on one of the new men, who seems to be holding back from the rest of the group. Dark-haired and with almost frighteningly intense eyes, he suddenly glances at me as if he sensed he was being watched, and we maintain eye contact for a moment before he turns and follows the others. “I should go and greet them,” I say with a sigh, as I start making my way back to town. “It's been a while since we had some new arrivals.” After a couple of paces, I pause for a moment and then finally I turn back to her. “Deckard's planning something, isn't he?”

  “Deckard?” She frowns. “What makes you say that?”

  “It's obvious.”

  She shakes her head. “Don't become paranoid, Asher. As far as I know, Deckard isn't plotting against you. I think he's a little frustrated, but he's also loyal.”

  I want to tell her that I agree, but deep down I know she's wrong.

  “Deckard has been with you since the beginning,” she adds. “He was here before all the rest of us. Trust me, he wouldn't turn on you.”

  “He wants to drive me out,” I tell her. “He wants me to get lost in the wilderness so I'll die like -”

  I catch myself just in time.

  “Like Iris?” she asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “She might still be alive, you know. She might surprise you one day and walk back into town.”

  I shake my head.

  “You don't have faith in her?” she continues.

  “You saw her in the weeks before she left,” I reply. “She was losing her mind. You saw the note she left behind. She was rambling on about finding another town to the south, based on nothing more than a few rambled claims by some new arrivals.” I pause, thinking back to the shock I felt when I discovered that Iris had left. “She might not have realized it at the time, but she was just doing what wounded, sick animals always do. She was leaving the community so she could go to die alone.”

  “You don't really believe that.”

  “I do,” I tell her. “I wish I didn't, but I do.”

  “Well I don't,” she replies. “I still think she'll show up again some day. I think she's tougher than you realize.”

  I stare at her for a moment. “You're an optimist,” I point out finally.

  “I'm a realist. But Asher...” She pauses. “If you start thinking that Deckard and other people are plotting against you, you'll end up going down a rabbit-hole of paranoia and suspicion, and then you really will have a problem. You can trust Deckard with your life.”

  “I wish I believed you,” I mutter, before turning and making my way back toward town. Even as I see the main clearing up ahead, with people working to prepare food and other items, I already feel as if I'm becoming an outsider. Then again, maybe that's just my default position. Mads might have been right all those years ago when she told me I'm an outsider by nature. I couldn't fit in with the rest of the world, and now I can't even fit in with a town that I started.

  Maybe Iris had the right idea after all.

  Chapter Four

  Iris

  “Shut up!” I try to shout, suddenly turning to Della. All that comes from my mouth, however, is a faint gasp of anger, and then a shiver passes through my chest as I remember that my sister isn't really here.

  For the past few minutes, I've been hearing her voice taunting me, telling me that I'm insane and that I'm just wandering through the forest while I wait to die. She reminded me of that time when I hallucinated Bran, and she hinted that I've never quite had my head straight since then. Somehow, while she went on and on, I managed to forget that she wasn't real and I finally snapped.

  “Yeah,” I hear her voice whispering in the back of my thoughts, “you're not crazy at all.”

  Chapter Five

  Asher

  By the time I get back to the main hut, I can already hear Deckard inside with the new arrivals, welcoming them to Steadfall and giving them some basic information about the little settlement we've got going here. I hesitate for a moment outside the door, listening in case I overhear him bad-mouthing me, but – to be fair – so far he sounds like he's giving it to them straight. Spotting movement nearby, I turn and see a woman watching me with scorn as she washes some tunics, and finally I head inside.

  “But that's enough from me,” Deckard says to the new arrivals, as soon as he sees me. “Here's the woman herself. Asher founded this town five years ago almost single-handedly. The rest of us came along later. Without her, Steadfall wouldn't exist and we'd all still be living day-to-day in the wild. Trust me, not many people survive that way on the island.”

  “It's not just my work,” I say, feeling a little self-conscious as the new arrivals turn to me. It's been a while since anyone arrived from the outside world, and I've kind of forgotten the little speech I used to have all worked out. To be honest, the last thing I need right now is to have more new people show up, but I have a rule of never turning anyone away unless they do something wrong. “Everyone here contributes something,” I continue. “Steadfall is a real community and we all pull together.”

  Damn it, those words sounds so fake an insincere coming from my words. It's like I'm a bad actor who can't sell lines in a script.

  “We were told there were no communities on the island,” the woman replies, with fear in her eyes. “We were told it was just wilderness. They said... I mean, before we came, they said it was just chaos here. We saw a load of film clips about it all.”

  “What's your name?” I ask.

  She hesitates for a moment. “Leanne,” she admits finally.

  “Welcome to Steadfall, Leanne,” I reply, forcing a smile. “You're right, the island is supposed to be a complete w
ilderness, but it's also a place with no rules or laws, so we're all free to do whatever the hell we want. This town is a place where a group of people decided to get together and try to make something a little better. I don't know if we're the only town. There are rumors of others out there, but if they exist, they're far enough away that they don't really affect us. We keep to ourselves and get on with our lives, and that's enough.”

  “What about violence?” asks one of the men. “We were told that the island is the most violent place on Earth. We were told there'd be cannibals, murderers...”

  “They're around,” I tell him. “What's your name?”

  He seems a little suspicious of me. “Ben,” he mutters after a moment. “Then again, does it really matter? In a place like this, can't people just make up new names and new personalities for themselves?”

  “There are people on the island who've embraced the chance to do awful things,” I explain. “There are no laws here at all, so people are free to do what they want, when they want, and the worst of them can usually only be stopped by brute force. Here at Steadfall we have certain rules that people must observe if they want to stay, but beyond the town's limits, anything goes. Occasionally there have been incursions by people who wanted to attack us, but they were dealt with pretty quickly. Steadfall might be the only place on the island where there's any order at all. It's certainly the only place I know of for sure.”

  “So if we don't choose to stay here with you,” Ben continues, “we have to... I mean, we'd have to go out there and fend for ourselves?”

  “No-one's forcing you to join us,” I tell him.

  “And then, what, we'd get our bones picked clean by cannibals?” He pauses, and it's clear that he's filled with anger. “Great options, there.”

  “You were told about the island before you came,” Deckard mutters, as if he's not impressed by Ben's complaints. “No-one forced you onto the helicopter, did they?”

  Ben opens his mouth to reply, but at the last moment he stays quiet.

  “I don't want to go out there,” Leanne says quickly, as if the idea terrifies her. “Not if there are cannibals. I mean, I've never met a cannibal, and I don't want to! I want to stay with you, if... I mean, if that's allowed...”

  “Then we'll find something for you to do here,” I reply, before turning to Ben. “It's not an easy life but -”

  “And who put you in charge?” he asks, with a hint of defiance in his voice.

  I hesitate for a moment, before glancing at Deckard and then turning back to Ben. “I set the town up,” I explain. “I'm not saying it's right, but no-one has to stay if they don't like it. I've always been very clear that I set the rules here.”

  “So you're a dictator?”

  I can't help bristling at that word. “I set the rules -”

  “Then you are a dictator,” he continues. “That's pretty much the definition, right?”

  “Everyone knows the situation here,” Deckard says firmly. “No-one claims it's perfect, but Asher has been in charge for five years now and things are going well. More or less, anyway. When problems arise, they're usually dealt with reasonably quickly.”

  I can't help glancing at him. He's doing a good job of making himself sound loyal, but I know that deep down he's seething with resentment. He thinks he can do a better job of running this town, and he might be right, but that doesn't mean I'm going to roll over and let him take control.

  “I came here to get away from people who think they're in charge,” Ben mutters, still eying me with the utmost suspicion. “Fascists, dictators, demagogues... The world is full of people who want to tell other people how to live their lives. It's hard to believe the same crap goes on here too. I happen to believe in democracy.”

  “Go start one, then,” I tell him.

  “Seriously? Is that your answer?”

  Deckard clears his throat. “You chose to come to the island,” he points out, turning to Ben. “You're free to do whatever you want. No-one's forcing you to stick around in Steadfall, so you should feel very free to leave.”

  Ben opens his mouth to argue, before apparently thinking better of it. “I really don't want to take my chances with whatever's out there in the forest,” he admits finally, “so I guess I'll stick around for a while and see how it goes.” He turns to me. “I'm not a fan of dictators, though. In my experience, that's the kind of power that breeds corruption and cruelty.”

  “Your opinion is duly noted,” I reply, before turning to look at the third new arrival, the intense-looking guy who hasn't said a word yet. He's hanging back a little, watching us all, and when our eyes meet I can't shake the feeling that he's not entirely impressed. He looks to be about my age, and in his eyes there's a hint of the same world-weary exhaustion I see every time I see my own reflection. “And what's your name?” I ask, hoping to at least get him talking.

  He pauses for a moment, staring at me with an unblinking gaze. “Harold,” he says finally.

  “So what do you think about the town, Harold?” I ask. “Do you think you might stay for a while?”

  I wait for an answer, but he seems strangely calm and unhurried, as if he feels no pressure to answer. “I'll see what you've got going on,” he says eventually.

  “What kind of role do you think you could play?” I continue.

  He frowns. “Role?”

  “If you have any particular skills or -”

  He shakes his head.

  “Nothing?”

  “It's hard to say,” he replies. His eyes are still fixed on me, almost as if he's daring me to be the one who looks away first. “I'm sure I can contribute in some way.”

  “There's one more thing you should know,” I tell him. “We accept all new arrivals who want to join us, but we ask that you turn over your canopies so they can be used for the good of the community.”

  “And why should we do that?” Ben asks.

  I turn to him, glad of the chance to finally stop looking at Harold. I know he's still watching me, though.

  “Here,” Leanne says, hurriedly placing her canopy on the ground in front of me. She offers a faint, nervous smile, as if she's worried she might do something wrong.

  “It's a gesture of goodwill,” I tell Ben, as Harold comes over and tosses his canopy at my feet. “It's a sign that you're willing to contribute. The canopies are used for bedding, clothing, shelter, that sort of thing. We have people who know how to make the most of them.”

  “Do I get to keep my knife?” he asks skeptically. “I refuse to give that up, I don't care how much you want us to share everything!”

  “You get to keep your knife,” I reply, although by this point I'm actually hoping he'll decide not to stay. He seems like nothing but trouble, and I feel a flash of disappointment when he finally tosses his canopy down onto the pile.

  “So all three of you arrived together, huh?” I continue, turning to Harold and then to Leanne. “How are things out there in the rest of the world? Have there been any major changes over the past few years?”

  “More bombings,” she replies, with tears in her eyes. “More soldiers on the streets. They say it's going to get better some day, but...”

  Her voice trails off.

  “Every time someone appears to tell us how the situation is improving,” she continues, “it's a sign that things are about to get worse. The war...”

  “What about the war?” I ask, bristling a little at the word.

  “It's still going on,” she replies.

  “Obviously, but... Is there any more news?”

  “They say we're going to make a big breakthrough soon,” she tells me, her voice trembling as if she's on the verge of tears. “They say one more big push is all we need.”

  “They've been saying that for years,” Ben mutters darkly. “Everyone knows it's not true. People live in misery and squalor, but they can't change a damn thing. It's all because of the war, or at least that's what they tell us. We're in it together and we all have to make sacrif
ices. It's just the same empty speeches over and over. That's why I got sick of it and came to the island. I'd rather die free than live in chains.”

  “What about you?” I ask, turning to Leanne. “Why did you come here?”

  “My husband and our son were...” She takes a deep breath, as if she's on the verge of breaking down. “They were caught up in a bomb attack at the local market. They didn't... I mean, they... They died, and then there was just me, and I kind of lost it for a while. I built up a lot of points on my record, mostly minor things like public disorder and hitting people, but I knew I'd die if I went to the mines. I'd heard so much about the island, I figured I should at least see it before I die.” She pauses. “I heard 95% of people who come here die within their first day.”

  “That figure's a little better for the ones who join us here,” Deckard tells her. “There's strength in numbers, and we work hard to keep the place clean and disease-free.”

  “You've done so much,” she replies, her voice almost cracking with fear. She's the most skittish person I've ever met in my life, and certainly more timid than anyone else here in Steadfall. It's honestly hard to believe that someone like her would choose to come to the island. “It's hard to believe you started with nothing.”

  “And what's it like being a dictator?” Ben asks, eying me with suspicion. “Why do people tolerate something like that? Don't those poor souls out there want a democracy in this town?”

  “They want to feel safe,” Deckard tells him. “They're safe here.”

  “Funny,” Ben mutters, “that's almost the argument the government uses to make people support the war.”

  “It's my town,” I add, trying not to let it show that this Ben guy is really irritating me. “Stay or don't stay, but if you decide to stick around, at least be aware of how things work. You can't just walk in here and start causing trouble.”

  “Asking questions is causing trouble?”

  “You know what I mean!”

  He smiles, as if he finds my frustration amusing. “You sound like them,” he tells me.

  “Like who?”