Persona (The Island Book 2) Page 7

  “Who are you?” he asks. “Are you one of them? Are you one of the ones who burned this place to the ground?”

  I shake my head.

  “What do you want from me?” he continues. “I don't have anything to give you!”

  As I step behind him, he scrambles around and maintains eye contact. He seems absolutely terrified, as if he's worried that I'll drive the knife into his chest at any moment.

  “Please,” he continues, “I thought no-one was here anymore, I just thought that maybe...” He pauses for a moment. “I thought they were all gone. I thought maybe there was a chance something had been left behind, that's all! I know it's bad to steal from the dead, but what choice do I have? I was hoping for food.”

  “I don't believe him,” Della's voice hisses. “He's lying!”

  “I'm just a scavenger!” he sobs. “I know it's wrong, but I thought I might be able to get something useful! Look at me, I'm just an old man!”

  I need to ask this guy questions, but I have no way to get through to him. It's not like I have a handy pen and a pad of paper that'd let me write things down, so I look around, hoping that -

  Suddenly he lets out a cry, and I turn just as he throws mud at my face in a surprising but ineffectual move. Startled, I brush the mud away as the guy scrambles to his feet and starts to run. I watch for a moment, before figuring that I can't just let him go. Fortunately, he's so old and wiry, I quickly catch up to him and pull him back, and this time I end up slamming him against a tree with more force than I'd intended. I swear, I feel his entire body shudder.

  “Don't hurt him!” Della's voice sobs.

  That's better.

  That's what Della would really say to me in this situation.

  “What do you want?” the man shouts, stumbling back from me with tears in his eyes. “I don't have anything! I literally have nothing in the world to give you, so if you're trying to rob me, you're out of luck! If you're going to kill me, just... Please don't, please, I don't want to die like this!”

  I stare at him for a moment, before turning and pointing toward the burned town. He stares at me, as if he doesn't quite understand, so I sigh before pointing again.

  “What about it?” he sobs, staring at me as if I'm some kind of freak. “I don't... What's wrong with you? What do you want?”

  “What happened?” I mouth carefully, hoping that he'll be able to lip-read.

  He frowns.

  I try again, and then I open my mouth wide so that he can see the stump of my tongue. It takes a moment, but finally I see from the shock in his eyes that he understands. He peers closer, as if he's never seen anything so disgusting in his life.

  “Tell me,” I say slowly, still pointing toward the town, “what happened!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Asher

  She's dying. I see that now.

  It's been a couple of hours since I followed Emma out of the town. She eventually collapsed just a few meters beyond the tree-line, so – after quickly going back to fetch food and water – I've been sitting here ever since, staying close while making sure she can't touch me. I know I'm not really helping, and she hasn't even responded to my offers of something to eat or drink, but I also know I can't just leave her here.

  Her breathing is becoming increasingly ragged.

  At this rate, she'll be dead within the hour.

  “I won't leave you,” I tell her, for what must be the hundredth time. “Whatever's wrong, Emma, you have to fight it. I know you're -”

  Before I can finish, I feel a sudden sense of familiarity, as if I've been in a situation like this before. I don't remember sitting with a dying woman in the middle of a forest, but the feeling of deja vu is too strong to ignore. I take a deep breath, trying to concentrate, and for a moment I feel as if a long-buried memory is trying to force its way through from the back of my mind, desperately attempting to get my attention.

  Something like this did happen before.

  During the war, I think -

  Suddenly hearing footsteps nearby, I feel the memory slip away. I turn, half-expecting to see Harold approaching yet again. Instead I spot Deckard making his way toward me, and I immediately tense when I see the thunderous expression on his face. Getting to my feet, I see that he's not holding a knife, and I remind myself that he's unlikely to attack me here, so close to the town. Still, as he stops next to me and looks down at Emma's shivering form, I can't help thinking that he'll try to use this situation to his advantage.

  “Is anyone else showing symptoms?” I ask finally.

  “Not that they'll admit,” he replies, still staring at Emma. “I've been keeping an eye on Mary, though. I think she's hiding something.”

  “She and Emma work together most days,” I point out. “If Emma caught this, it stands to reason that -”

  “I know,” he adds, interrupting me. “Like I said, I've been watching her like a hawk. I think she knows I'm suspicious, too. Fortunately she's keeping away from the others.” He pauses for a moment, as Emma lets out a faint, agonized groan. “How long do you think she has left?”

  Grabbing his arm, I pull him away. There's no need for Emma to overhear our conversation.

  “How long?” he asks again, sounding frustrated.

  “An hour or two,” I mutter.

  “Really?” He turns to me. “Your pessimism is surprising. I thought you'd insist she still has a chance.”

  “We need to think about how we're going to handle this,” I tell him. “If Mary or anyone else gets sick, we might be facing an epidemic. We can't take risks, we have to -”

  I catch myself just in time, but deep down I know that Harold was right.

  “We might have to evacuate the town,” I continue finally.

  He frowns.

  “Get people away from each other,” I point out. “Make them spread out for a few days. At least that way, people who are already sick won't be able to pass it on to the ones who are healthy. I know it's a drastic approach, but we can't afford to be complacent.”

  “Makes sense,” he replies, nodding slowly as he looks back down at Emma. “I think we can rule out food poisoning. Her symptoms are more flu-like, but obviously it's progressing much faster than flu. You haven't touched her, have you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Has she been sneezing or coughing? If you've been too close -”

  “I've kept my distance,” I tell him. “I just didn't think it was right to leave her out here alone.”

  I wait, convinced that he's going to tell me I'm a fool, but instead he seems lost in thought.

  “That's good of you,” he says finally. “I'm sure she appreciates it.”

  After watching him for a moment longer, I realize that I can't hold back.

  “I know it was you,” I blurt out.

  “You know what was me?”

  “Don't act dumb,” I continue. “Your friends tried to ambush me in the forest. I killed Alison, and I sent Ellis and Joe packing. Before you even try to claim you weren't behind what happened, save your breath.” I wait for him to reply, but his expression remains inscrutable as he stares at me. “I'm warning you,” I tell him, as I feel anger rising through my chest, “I'm not going to be driven out of Steadfall. This is my town -”

  “No-one's disputing that,” he replies.

  “If you don't like the way I do things,” I add, “feel free to leave.”

  “You're very keen to stay in charge,” he continues. “For someone who seems to be such a loner, anyway.”

  “Steadfall is mine,” I tell him. “It's the only thing I've got left to fight for.”

  “And you think I tried to have you killed?”

  “I know you did.”

  “Who put that particular idea in your head?” he asks.

  “I saw you talking to Ellis and the others,” I continue. “I saw you plotting something. I'm not stupid, Deckard. I know it's no coincidence that I saw you with them just a few hours before I was attacked.”

&
nbsp; He pauses. “What if I told you,” he says finally, “that I wasn't plotting anything? What if I told you that I was actually trying to talk them out of their insane plan?”

  “Then why didn't you come to warn me?”

  “I thought it wasn't necessary. I thought they wouldn't come after you, and the last thing I wanted was to set you even more on edge. I guess I was wrong.”

  Staring at him, I realize that he genuinely expects me to believe what he's saying. I guess he thinks I'm some naive idiot who can't see when she's being targeted.

  “You've been listening to Harold, haven't you?” he continues after a moment.

  “Harold has nothing to do with this,” I tell him.

  “He's been filling your head with rubbish.”

  “He helped me to see the truth!” I say firmly, taking a step toward him. “I was onto you before, you weren't exactly subtle, but I didn't realize quite how determined you were to take control of this place. I see it now, though. You think I'm some dumb little fool, you think I can't possibly run a town like -”

  “I think you need to accept help when it's offered!”

  “I don't need your help!” I shout, momentarily letting my anger boil over.

  “Steadfall is getting too big,” he replies, “and too busy, for one person to remain in charge! You need to get over this ridiculous desire to make every decision yourself, and you need to let other people step in to support you! No-one's talking about taking Steadfall away from you, but you're going to lose it if you don't share the burden!”

  “You want to take control!” I sneer. “I know exactly what your end-game is!”

  “If I wanted to take control,” he mutters darkly, “I'd have done it by now. Do you really think a girl like you could stand in my way? I'm trying to help you!”

  “Then leave!” I tell him.

  He opens his mouth to reply, but I can see I've finally made him understand that I'm onto him.

  “You want me to go?” he asks, with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

  “If you can't live at Steadfall without causing trouble,” I continue, “then yes, I think it'd be better for everyone if you packed up and found somewhere else.”

  He pauses for a moment, before taking a step back. “I haven't been trying to cause trouble,” he says after a moment, “but I have been speaking out when I think something's wrong. If you see that as a bad thing, then I guess we don't agree about how the town should function.” Another pause, and it's clear that he's not sure what to do next.

  I reach for my belt, to make sure that my knife is in place. I've got a feeling I might need it soon.

  “Fine,” he continues, “I'll leave. I've done my best here and I'm proud of my contribution, but I'm not going to stay if you truly believe I'm out to get you. I was planning to go and search for my wife anyway, so I guess that's what I'll do.” He pauses for a moment, before turning to walk back to the town.

  “Maybe we should talk about this some more!” I call after him, suddenly feeling a twinge of regret at the thought of him leaving. Deckard has been here since the beginning, since the day I faced up to Vargas, and I've come to rely on him. “Wait! Maybe there's a way back from this!”

  Still walking away, he raises his left hand as if to indicate that there's no point, and I'm left to watch as he heads toward the edge of town. I'm tempted to run after him, to make him reconsider, but after a moment I remind myself that he arranged for Ellis and the others to attack me. For that reason alone, I can't ever trust him again, and I have to remember that Harold was right all along. Deckard was becoming a threat, and I need to be grateful that he's decided to leave without a proper showdown. The situation could easily have become violent.

  Glancing down at Emma, I see that she's no longer shivering. I step around her, to check that she's okay, but after a moment I look at her face and realize that she's dead. Whatever killed her, I have to pray that it doesn't spread to anyone else in town.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Iris

  Standing in the doorway of one of the huts, the old man and I stare in at the pile of burned corpses on the ground.

  “There are some people,” he says finally, “who came to the island because of the opportunity to become monsters. No laws, no rules... They came because they want to do terrible things.”

  I turn to him, and I swear I can see tears in his eyes.

  “I saw what happened here,” he continues. “Only from afar, but I saw it and I heard... I witnessed what happens when man knows no limits. I saw human cruelty unleashed in its most abhorrent form. I saw flesh being peeled from the bones of living victims. I saw a man biting out the teeth of a woman as she sobbed. I saw a man literally getting ripped apart by the hands of another man. I saw a skull being torn from a man's face, still screaming at first as -”

  He stops suddenly, his eyes wide with shock as he stares at the burned corpses. Finally, he turns to me.

  “The ones who died in the fire were lucky,” he says after a moment. “They were spared the worst of what happened here. The ones who died out there, pegged to the ground, are also lucky. They're gone now, they don't have to suffer anymore. Do you know who I really feel sorry for?”

  I wait for him to continue.

  “I feel sorry for the people of the next town that gets destroyed by those monsters,” he continues. “I feel sorry for the victims who don't even know what's coming to them.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Asher

  I remember running through a forest, weighed down by body armor and guns. I remember diving for cover as energy blasts ripped through the air, and I remember trees crashing down on either side, missing me by just a few feet.

  I remember the ground shaking as a battleship approached. I remember hearing more trees being split apart in the distance, and I remember the sound of enemy troops getting into position. I remember hearing blasters being fired, and knowing that hundreds more were about to be unleashed.

  All these things are still just vague sensation, disorganized memories that seem to be floating to the surface all of a sudden. I don't know what prompted them to come back, but they're filling my thoughts.

  I remember turning and seeing the rest of my unit taking positions, ready for the onslaught. I remember thinking we were out of luck, that finally we were going to die.

  “Are you okay?”

  Turning away from the daydream, I see that Harold is standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the dimming light of evening. My initial instinct is to tell him I'm fine, to say I need some time alone, but I can't quite get the words out of my mouth. For perhaps the first time in years, I actually feel I'd like some company. Damn it, what's wrong with me?

  “Deckard's leaving,” he continues. “A lot of people begged him to stay, but he said he had to go and search for his wife. No-one's really buying that explanation, though. There's a rumor going around that you asked him to leave. At least he's being diplomatic about the whole thing. So far, I haven't heard him trash-talking you to anyone.”

  Stepping over to join him in the doorway, I look out across the clearing just in time to see Deckard walking out of town. A small crowd has gathered to send him off, although after a moment I realize some of them are actually trying to persuade him to stay. One of two people glance this way, and I can see the anger in their eyes. They probably wish it was the other way around, that Deckard had stayed and I'd been the one to leave.

  “I should stop him,” I say suddenly, stepping forward.

  Harold puts a hand on my shoulder. “Stay strong, Asher.”

  I turn to him.

  “You know this is for the best,” he continues. “Deckard is against you. Just be grateful that he's leaving without putting up more of a fight. Frankly, I'm surprised. I expected him to make one final play for power, but I guess you made accept the inevitable. Now look at him, slinking off with his tail between his legs.”

  I still want to go running after Deckard, to make him stay, but after
a moment I remind myself of everything that has happened lately. I've been convinced for a while that he resents me, and that fear culminated in the attack earlier.

  “What if I've made a mistake?” I mutter, turning and heading back across the gloomy hut. Stopping in the middle, I feel a gnawing sense of regret in my gut. It's as if deep down, in the back of my mind, I know that this doesn't add up. “What if -”

  “You didn't make a mistake,” Harold says suddenly, having stepped up quietly behind me. When I turn to him, he puts his hands on my arms, as if to hold me steady. “Deckard was plotting against you. Come on, Asher, you're smart, you know that's true. You made the right choice. Now you just have to hold steady.”

  I open my mouth to argue with him, but maybe he's right. I've never been so indecisive before, but right now I feel as if I'm constantly switching from one view to another.

  “Deckard's popular,” I say finally. “People like him, and they trust him. Way more than they like or trust me.”

  “By getting rid of him, you've shown the others that you're in charge.”

  “Or I've made them hate me more.”

  “He tried to have you killed!”

  “I know, but maybe he was right about the need for change, maybe...” I pause as I realize that I can still salvage the situation. “I should just accept that I can't control everything,” I add finally. “I should change the way Steadfall is run, maybe have some kind of open forum or even let the people elect their own leaders.”

  “That sounds like a betrayal of everything you've created here,” he replies.

  “But at least -”

  Before I can finish, he suddenly leans closer and kisses me. Startled, I freeze for a moment before pulling back, and for a few seconds there's an awkward silence between us, broken only by the sounds of the town outside the hut.