Persona (The Island Book 2) Page 8

  “I'm sorry,” he says finally, “I didn't mean to...”

  I wait for him to finish, but he seems equally surprised by what just happened.

  “I've never met anyone like you,” he continues. “You're so strong, I've always been attracted to women who take charge and demonstrate a little authority.”

  “That's... nice to know,” I tell him, still trying to work out where he's going with this. It's hard to believe that he'd seriously try making a move like this, and I didn't pick up any hints of interest until now. Then again, I've never exactly been good at noticing that kind of thing. Jude, for example, had to pretty much hold me down the first time until I realized what she wanted. I guess my mind just doesn't process that kind of information.

  “Nice to know?” He pauses. “Maybe I made a mistake. I thought you were interested too.”

  “I have a lot to get done,” I reply cautiously.

  “I was married before I came to the island,” he says suddenly.

  “I...” What does he want me to say? “Okay, but -”

  “Her name was Julia,” he continues. “She looked a little like you. Quite a lot like you, actually, but shorter and a little fuller in the face. We had a comfortable life in one of the main cities, we were getting along just fine, and we'd recently had our first child. Life was good. Not as good as the ruling classes, but better than most can even dream of. I was struggling to deal with my thoughts after the war, but for the most part I managed to hide all of that from her. She thought I was doing well. When I told her I was coming to the island, she actually thought I'd lost my mind. She tried to get me held by psychiatric services, but I was able to demonstrate that I was completely sane.”

  I wait for him to continue. “So why did you decide to come to the island?” I ask finally.

  “I needed more,” he replies. “I needed a life that wasn't so safe. I loved Julia and our son, but I was bored. I was timid, too. I shuffled to work every morning, and I pushed the buttons I was supposed to push, and I shuffled back every night. Eventually I realized that I was being suffocated by this crushing lack of meaning, and I started to fantasize about coming to the island. I read everything I could on the subject. There was a helicopter pilot named Jones who released a book about his experiences, about what he'd seen from the cockpit when he was bringing people here. The book was suppressed, of course, but I found a copy, and I was fascinated by his descriptions. Slowly those descriptions became all I could think about, and I began to feel as if I had to come here. So one day I told Julia what I was going to do. She hated me for it, but...” He stares at me for a moment. “You understand, don't you?”

  I want to tell him that I don't understand, that I think he's a complete jerk, but I figure I should probably hold my tongue. “It sounds complicated,” I mutter.

  “I made the right decision,” he adds, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on me. “From the moment I arrived on the island, I knew I was in the right place. I feel so much more alive here than I ever felt back in my safe little apartment with my safe little wife and our safe little child.”

  “You don't miss them?” I ask.

  “I feel sorry for them, but that's not the same.” He pauses again. “Even if I only last a few days here, I'll have lived more in those few days than most people live in their entire lifetimes. My heart is beating twice as hard, and I feel almost like a different person.”

  “That's nice for you,” I reply, even though I'm starting to think he's lost his mind. “But your wife -”

  “Forget about her,” he continues. “I told her she should come too, but she was too scared by the idea. She wants to feel safe.”

  Staring at him, I realize he genuinely means this. He's excited by the sense of danger, by the uncertainty of the island. I can't help thinking, however, that he's a complete asshole for abandoning his wife and child just so he could head off on some kind of adventure.

  “So I'm sorry I kissed you,” he says finally. “I guess that's the point I'm trying to make. It was a moment of weakness, but in the right light, you really reminded me of Julia.” He watches me for a moment longer. “Except you're more alive than Julia. You're stronger. You don't have that sense of insufferable fear and futility in your eyes. Your eyes, Asher, are filled with passion.”

  “That's probably just fear,” I tell him, slipping past and heading to the door. When he grabs my shoulder, I instinctively pull away.

  “You don't like being touched,” he suggests. “From the war, maybe?”

  I flinch. The last thing I want is for him to start analyzing me.

  “We're the same,” he continues. “We've both been through the war, we've both had our minds wiped, but we both have traces of those memories that won't let us rest.”

  I open my mouth to tell him he's wrong, but I can't bring myself to say the words. Deep down, I know he's not wrong.

  “Don't you ever wonder what horrors we witnessed?” he asks. “What gave them the right to take those experiences away? We might not remember the specific sights, but the effects are still echoing in our souls. A memory is more than just an image, Asher. It's an explosion, and it leaves damage behind.” He pauses, watching me more intently than ever. “We're both very, very damaged by a war we fought and then forgot. So yes, I was right just now. We're very alike, and I honestly think we're the only people on this entire island who can truly understand one another.”

  “I don't need to be understood,” I tell him cautiously.

  “Now that's a lie,” he replies with a smile.

  I mutter something about being busy, before heading out into the evening light. I immediately notice that the atmosphere in town is different, and when I make eye contact with the people making dinner I can tell that they resent me. They probably think I should have left instead of Deckard, but hopefully they also understand that I couldn't let him keep challenging me. If I hadn't forced the issue, he'd eventually have arranged another attack on me, and then another, and sooner or later I'd have been killed.

  After heading around the side of a hut, I stop for a moment once I'm out of sight. That encounter with Harold just now has left me shaking, and I don't even know why. I swear, though, I can feel a torrent of memories rumbling in the depths of my mind, and it's almost as if talking to Harold brings them closer to the surface.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Iris

  “I heard them screaming for days,” the man explains as he leads me back across the clearing, past more of the charred huts. “When they were being burned alive, that was bad enough, but...”

  Stopping, he turns to me.

  I keep my knife raised, just in case.

  “Then the ones who were left... The things they did to them were just horrific.” He pauses for a moment. “I would've run and never come back, but I thought maybe there were more of those monsters out in the forest, so I stayed where I was, hiding like a common animal in a hole in the ground, and I waited. I was too scared to move, I started to think maybe I'd starve to death, but then I heard footsteps and I saw you coming. I figured maybe it was finally okay to come out.”

  “How long ago?” I mouth.

  “How long?” He pauses. “They arrived about a week ago, and the last of them left five days ago.”

  “Who?” I mouth.

  “The attackers?” Another pause. “I don't know who they were, not really. I used to live here in the town. I remember the day they arrived. They seemed friendly enough, I didn't think there was any need to worry.” He stares at me for a moment with horror in his eyes, as if he's reliving everything that happened. “There was something slightly unsettling about them from the start, though. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but I could tell they weren't quite right. There were only three of them.”

  I tilt my head, surprised by that news. It's hard to believe that just three people could have done all of this.

  “I know,” he continues, as if he can read my mind. “They just turned up one day and said they'd recentl
y been dropped onto the island. Two men and a woman. At first, we didn't really pay them very much attention. They began to integrate with the rest of us, and at first they seemed to be surprisingly useful. For a while, I actually thought they'd be good additions to the town, but slowly things started to turn bad. Our leaders started to argue, there were divisions, and then...”

  I wait for him to continue, but once again he seems too horrified to say anything.

  “And then,” he adds finally, “the sickness started. I know it sounds crazy, but I think the sickness was part of their plan all along. I think they brought the sickness deliberately, as a way of weakening us all and causing divisions. Their leader was the worst, the most sadistic. He knew how to play everyone off against each another, undermining the strength of our town until it was too late for us to do anything. He was the one who led the torture, too. I'll never forget the evil in his eyes.”

  He looks down at the ground for a moment, his eyes filled with pain, and then he turns to me.

  “His name was Harold, and he brought all this pain and suffering to our town. He destroyed everything.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Asher

  “People aren't happy!” Olivia hisses, following me through the center of town. “Asher, there's real anger growing!”

  “Tell them to come and talk to me,” I mutter.

  “Asher!”

  Grabbing my shoulder, she forces me to turn to her. I damn near want to punch her, but somehow I manage to keep my anger contained. The last thing I need is for someone else to take on Deckard's role as chief complainer.

  “This is getting out of control,” she continues. “Deckard used to keep the peace, he used to make people understand why you made certain decisions, but with him gone people are really starting to wonder what our next move should be. Asher, without Deckard...”

  Her voice trails off, but I can see the desperation in her eyes.

  “With him gone,” I reply finally, “everyone's just going to have to accept my authority. Either that, or they can leave.”

  “Leave?” She seems shocked by the suggestion. “Every single person in this town has invested far too much of their time and energy to just get up and leave. You have to recognize that, Asher!”

  “I don't have to do anything,” I reply, although I regret those words as soon as they've left my mouth. I sound impetuous and self-absorbed, as if I don't care about the opinions of other people here. “Maybe we can have some kind of meeting,” I continue, hoping to undo some of the damage. “Like a town-hall meeting, or a forum, a way for people to express their views.”

  “That won't be enough,” she replies. “Deckard promised -”

  “Deckard's gone!” I hiss.

  “And that's the problem!” she continues. “Deckard promised he'd talk to you about changing the way the town is run.”

  “He did?” I ask, genuinely shocked by the news.

  “He said he'd make you see sense. He said it'd take time, but that we should have faith in you.”

  “While he was saying that,” I reply, trying not to let my sense of irritation show too clearly, “he was plotting to have me killed.”

  She opens her mouth to reply, but then she hesitates. “Deckard would never do that...”

  “He persuaded Ellis, Joe and Alison to come after me in the forest,” I tell her, fully aware that several other people are listening to our conversation. “They tried to jump me, and they made it very clear that they were going to kill me. I had a knife against my throat before I managed to fight back.”

  “No, Deckard isn't the kind of -”

  “He was overheard talking to them,” I continue. “Someone heard the four of them plotting.”

  “Deckard wouldn't do that,” she replies. “Deckard -”

  “Deckard was a traitor,” I add, interrupting her. More and more people are listening to us now, so I turn to the slowly-gathering crowd. If they want a leader, if they want someone who stands up for what she believes, then maybe it's time I gave them what they're after. “Thomas Deckard was trying to undermine me,” I explain, “and I told him to stop or leave. He'd been talking about going to search for his wife again, so obviously he decided he didn't want to be part of Steadfall anymore. The same choice is open to everyone else, including you.”

  “You want me to leave?” Olivia asks.

  “I don't want anyone to leave,” I reply, turning to her, “but -”

  Stopping suddenly, I realize that Harold is watching from the back of the crowd.

  “If you agree with Deckard and think he should have stayed,” I continue, turning to the others, “then you should probably follow him. Right or wrong, the rules of Steadfall are mine and that's just how things are going to stay.”

  “Why can't we elect people to help you?” someone calls out. “Why can't we have a say in the rules?”

  “Because that would be a betrayal of -” I start to say, before realizing that I was about to copy the exact phrase Harold used earlier. I glance at him for a moment, before turning back to face the crowd. Harold told me that changing the rules of Steadfall would be a sign of weakness, and I think he might have been right. “This is just how things are,” I continue, taking a step back. “I've said it a hundred times, and I'm not going to change my mind. I'm in charge of Steadfall and the rest of you can either choose to accept that situation, or you can move on.”

  I wait, and I swear my heart is pounding in my chest. I half expect them to turn against me, but slowly I start to realize that they're actually listening to me.

  “We just think there should be some changes around here,” Olivia says finally, with a hint of resignation in her voice. “We should be working together, instead of constantly fighting. Maybe if there was a little more progress in that area, good men like Thomas Deckard wouldn't feel the need to leave Steadfall.”

  “I'll take that into account,” I tell her, as the crowd starts to disperse.

  Once Olivia has gone back to work, I spent a moment watching the residents as they go about their daily routines. I can't quite believe that they listened to me, and that I was able to assert my authority, but at the back of my mind I'm starting to think that I could have been more lenient, that I should offer something in return. It wouldn't be that bad to relinquish a little control, and to -

  “Good job,” Harold says suddenly, having come up behind me. He puts a hand on my shoulder for a moment, smiling at me as he makes his way past and heads over to the other side of the town. It's not as if I need his support, but at the same time it's good to know that someone thinks I'm doing a good job. Maybe, with Deckard gone, Steadfall can finally start to function properly again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Iris

  “It started with just one person,” the old man explains as we sit on the ground in the center of the clearing. “People used to get sick from time to time, but gradually it began to spread. I still don't know what it was, not exactly, but it caused coughing and vomiting, and diarrhea, and then there was blood. At first we tried to tell ourselves it was nothing major, that we could ignore it, but we soon realized it was more serious. It was quick to kill anyone who got infected, and it seemed to spread through physical contact. I was one of the lucky ones, I managed not to get sick, but I watched a lot of good people die.”

  His face twitches for a moment.

  Still holding the knife up, in case he tries anything, I wait for him to continue.

  “They used the sickness to manipulate us,” he says after a moment. “The three new arrivals, I mean. Looking back now, it all seems so unbelievably simple, the way they twisted us against each other. Harold seemed to be their leader, and he wormed his way in so well and so fast that within just a day or two everyone trusted him. Even when a few of us started to get suspicious, our concerns were ignored. We were treated as outcasts. Harold was manipulating everything, and he had his pals Leanne and Ben to back him up. Between the three of them, they managed to sow the seeds of
dissent throughout the camp. People were arguing, the sickness was spreading, and finally...”

  He swallows hard, before turning to me.

  “Have you never heard about them before?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Seriously? You've never once heard mention of a sickness on the island, or of the three people who bring death wherever they visit?”

  Again, I shake my head.

  “That surprises me,” he continues. “I thought word of their cruelty had spread far and wide by now. Harold was a master of getting into the minds of the people around him. I watched as he identified everyone's weakness, as he exploited the tiniest fissures in relationships. He got them eating out of the palm of his hand and he erased anyone he perceived to be a threat, and then...”

  I wait for him to finish.

  “And then he destroyed everything,” he adds finally. “Oh, he had help from his two lackeys, but he was the driving force. He was the one who stood and watched, not even blinking, as flames consumed the huts. He was the one who smiled as the screams rang out. Later, he was the one who carried out all the torture. I know it probably sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I promise you, that man is pure evil. I only wish I'd had the courage to stand up to him, maybe even to kill him, instead of...” He sighs. “And now he's out there still. I'm sure he'll have other victims.”

  Looking out at the darkening forest, I can't help imagining this Harold person still wandering the island, searching for more people to kill. For the first time since I set out on this journey, I feel an overwhelming urge to get back to Steadfall, if only to warn Asher and the others.

  “You're a good person,” the old man says suddenly. “I can see it in your eyes.” He stares at me for a moment longer, before slowly getting to his feet. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He winces as his bones creak. “We shouldn't stay here. Maybe I'm just getting superstitious in my old age, but the thought of spending time here at night... Well, even if those monsters don't come back, there are still a lot of dead bodies here, bodies of people I once counted as friends. Please, I have a small camp nearby and I'd like to show you something important.”