by Amy Cross
“Careful,” Sergeant Dylan says, smiling at me. “We can punish you however we see fit, if you cause us any problems. Besides, you shouldn't take these things so personally.”
He starts copying me again, and this time one of the other guards starts chuckling.
I don't pull on the cuffs, though.
Not now.
I need to be smarter and wait for a chance to wipe the grins off their faces.
“Stick her somewhere,” Sergeant Dylan says finally, turning to one of the others. “I don't care where, but make sure it's not too close to where I'm working. I don't want to hear her weird grunts.”
The other guards laugh again, and a moment later I'm shoved in the back. Seething with anger, I barely manage to restrain myself as I'm forced to walk across the beach. One guard is holding my arm, while another is prodding me in the back with the tip of his gun. Ahead, there are several large containers that have been unloaded from the carrier, and it's clear that the soldiers are getting ready for a major offensive against Steadfall.
“Iris!”
Stopping suddenly, I turn and see that Nissa is running this way. Like me, she has her hands cuffed behind her back, but she bumps into me and buries her face against my chest.
“I thought I'd never see you again!” she sobs.
“Put them together,” another guard says, coming over to join us. “Make sure they're secured to something, though. We don't want them getting away and going off to warn anyone.”
“Warn them of what?” the first guard asks, grabbing my arm and shoving me over to one of the large metal crates. “It's not as if they could actually do anything, is it?”
Nissa lets out a pained cry as one of the guards links her cuffs to a chain on the side of the crate. I want to tell them to stop treating her so badly, but it's not as if I can get any words out. Besides, I'm sure they could do worse if they wanted, and the last thing I want is for them to feel like they have to make some kind of point. I can't help noticing, too, that they're much rougher with me than with Nissa. As they chain me to the crate next to her, I'm already trying to think of a way to escape, but these chains are clearly way too strong.
“Let me go!” Nissa screams, struggling frantically to get loose from her cuffs.
The guards step back, and it's clear that they're amused as Nissa tugs and tugs.
I try to tell her to stop, to warn her that all she's doing is wearing a bloodied cut into her wrists, but all that emerges from my mouth is a vague grunting sound. And this, in turn, causes the guards to laugh even harder.
“I don't want to be here!” Nissa sobs. “I want to go home!”
“Me too, kid,” one of the guards chuckles as he and his friends start walking away. “Everyone here wants to go home.”
“Iris, how do we get out of here?” she whimpers, turning to me with tear-filled eyes. “I want to go back to Steadfall! These people are scaring me!”
I want to tell her that everything'll be alright, but of course I can't say a word. Nissa was born here on the island, so she's never seen any kind of technology. As she looks around at the containers and weapons, and at the carrier that's parked a little further along the beach, I can't help wondering how she's managing to deal with the sight of so many new things.
“Iris,” she continues, “we -”
Suddenly a loudspeaker crackles to life nearby, and a booming voice orders soldiers to take up position further along the beach. Startled for a moment, I look around at the maelstrom of activity, and then a few seconds later I hear a sobbing sound.
Turning, I see that Nissa has crouched down on the ground, and now she's curling herself into a ball with her eyes squeezed tight shut.
“Make them stop!” she whimpers. “It's too noisy!”
At that moment, as if to really emphasize the cacophony all around us, the carrier's engine briefly starts up for a few seconds. Beneath my feet, the whole beach seems to rumble. The sound passes soon enough, but voices are yelling orders in the distance, and it's clear that this is way too much noise and action for a nine-year-old girl who grew up in a small community of – at most – a couple of hundred people.
“Make it stop!” she cries out, shaking now with fear. “Iris! Make them go away!”
Chapter Forty-Four
Asher
Stopping at the main gate, I see that several soldiers are watching me from the trees with their rifles aimed. I turn and look over my shoulder, and sure enough the entire population of Steadfall has gathered behind me. Their faces show a mixture of fear and anticipation, and it's clear that they're all relying on me to get us out of this mess.
Hearing footsteps, I turn and see that another soldier is stepping toward me. He's older than the others, and I immediately recognize the insignia on his chest.
This man is a general.
“Are you Asher?” he asks, his voice sounding harsh and scratched.
I pause, before nodding.
He takes another step toward me, and this time he holds a hand out for me to shake.
“General Alistair Lennox,” he announces calmly. “I hope you'll forgive our intrusion here, but we're really only here for two things, and I'm very much hoping we can be on our way before this matter gets out of hand.”
I pause for a moment, before shaking his hand.
“Let's get something out of the way right now,” he continues. “I know that Doctor Nicole Phillips is here, so I'd appreciate it if you dispense with any denials on that front. She gave us the slip before, but we tracked her here and we know she's somewhere in your little... town.”
He says that last word with a hint of disdain.
“Is that all you want?” I ask. “If we turn her over to you, you'll take her and leave?”
“We want what she has,” he replies, “and we want her.”
“You can have her,” I tell him. “Hell, I'd pay you to take her away.”
“And the code.”
“Code?”
“She has the code,” he continues. “I'm not at liberty to divulge more on that matter, but taking her away for trial will not be enough. We know that she has the code, and we need to take that with us as well.”
“I have no idea what she has with her,” I reply, “but I'm sure you have ways of getting the information out of her.”
“We don't know where the code is stored.”
“So search her boat,” I continue. “Search her. Whatever, I don't care. Get her out of here and don't turn it into our problem.”
I turn to tell Ripley that he needs to bring Doctor Phillips out.
“I need you to cooperate with us,” General Lennox says again, this time sounding a little annoyed.
I glance back at him.
“I am cooperating,” I explain. “I'm turning her over to you.”
“With the code.”
“I don't know anything about a code.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asks, with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
“Doctor Nicole Phillips is nothing to do with me,” I explain, “or at least, she hasn't been for well over a decade. So I'm going to turn her over to you, and then you can leave with her, and I don't want to hear another word about what she's been doing or what code she's hiding or anything like that. I came to the island to get away from stuff like that. We all did. So take her away and leave us alone.”
“That won't be good enough,” he says firmly. “Your town is surrounded, and nobody is allowed in or out until we have what we want. And what we want is Doctor Phillips and the code.”
***
“What code?” I ask, standing in front of Doctor Phillips in one of the huts.
“Code?”
“Don't bullshit me,” I continue. “They want you and they want a code, and apparently it's our problem if you don't turn it over to them.”
“Hang on,” she replies, leaning back on her stool with a faint smile. “This is starting to ring a bell. I think maybe I do remember something about a code,
but the details are foggy.”
“The people here need water,” I point out. “And food. We don't have time for your games.”
“I'm trying to help,” she replies, “but you're hardly helping. Perhaps if you untied my wrists, I'd be able to think straight.”
I pause for a moment, before turning to Ripley.
“Get out of here,” I tell him.
He raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Give me a moment alone with her.”
He stares at me for a few seconds, and then he shrugs as he walks out of the hut.
“Do you not have any water supplies here in the town?” Doctor Phillips asks as I step closer to her. “Now that's a design flaw, isn't it? You should have made sure your -”
I punch her hard, hitting the left side of her face and sending her falling back off the stool. She lands hard on the ground, and I have to admit to a hint of satisfaction as I hear a pained groan. Rolling onto her side, she seems genuinely winded.
“The code,” I say firmly. “What is it, and how do I give it to them?”
“Is this your plan?” she asks, struggling to sit up. There's blood on her lips. “Physical violence? I thought you were more of a smart thinker.”
Stepping over to her, I grab her by the hair and drag her to the wall. She struggles a little, but I quickly slam her back down to the ground and crouch next to her.
“What is the code,” I sneer, “and how do I give it to them?”
“I'm not -”
“General Lennox didn't say anything about you being alive or dead when I turn you over,” I continue. “Frankly, I think the code and your corpse might satisfy him.”
“And where exactly is the code?” she asks, before spitting out some more blood. “What does it look like? What's it held in?”
“It has to be something you brought with you to the island,” I point out. “Nobody here has any kind of tracking device or implant in their body, so there's no way it's hidden inside one of us.”
“True,” she replies, “but knowing where it isn't doesn't help you figure out where it is.”
She wipes blood from her lips.
“I know General Alistair Lennox,” she continues. “He's a tough man. He's fair, but he gets his job done. I'm sure he doesn't want to maintain this siege until everybody here drops dead from dehydration, but if that's what it takes, then that's what he'll do. Believe me, the man does what he's told, and somebody has told him to come here and get that code back. His bosses must be getting pretty desperate by now. Scared, even. They don't know exactly what's happening, but they know it could be very bad for their side in the war.”
“You're not really a traitor,” I reply. “You can't be. You were always so patriotic, so firmly on our side.”
“It's called lying, honey. What's wrong? Does it scare you that some people find it so easy to lie?”
I crouch next to her.
“Tell me about this code,” I say after a moment. “What does it do? Why are they so afraid of it?”
“Relax,” she replies with a smile. “Let's do this my way, and I promise everyone will be alright in the end. Even the pathetic people who live in this dumb little shanty town. What's wrong, Asher? Don't you trust me?”
Chapter Forty-Five
Iris
Sliding the handcuffs to the end of the metal rail, I try once again to slip them off the end. There's a support beam in the way, and the beam is firmly attached to the side of the crate, but I'm convinced that there has to be a weak spot here somewhere.
Feeling the ground rumble beneath my feet, I turn just in time to see that an all-terrain vehicle is being loaded off the back of the carrier.
They really mean business here.
“Make them all go away,” Nissa sobs, still whimpering on the ground. “Iris, my head hurts!”
As if to torment her further, several soldiers hurry past, shouting at one another. Figuring that I have to find some way to get us out of here, I start working on the handcuffs again. Somewhere, there has to be a point of weakness. I just have to find that point so I can get us both free.
Chapter Forty-Six
Asher
“I say we toss her out there to them,” Ripley says firmly, “and hope they realize there's nothing more we can do. Whatever this code is, we don't have it! They have to see that!”
“Lennox said that's not an option,” I reply, looking over toward the fence and seeing several soldiers watching us from their positions next to the trees. “The code has to be here somewhere. Did you search Phillips when you brought her here?”
“Intimately,” Carmichael says. “The worst part is, I think she liked it.”
“And there was nothing on her?”
He shakes his head.
“So it's inside her,” Ripley suggests. “Seems simple enough. She's got some kind of implant that's holding the data.”
“She says that's not where it is,” I reply. “I believe her. Sure, we could send her out there, but at least while we've got her here we have a chance of getting the truth from her.”
“Let me go in there with her for five minutes,” Ripley says. “I held back a little before. This time I'll make her realize that she doesn't have a choice.”
“She's waiting for something,” I explain, turning for to Carmichael, then to Olivia, and then to the others who've come to discuss our options. “She keeps saying that if we just trust her and do things her way, something's going to get us out of this. She won't say what it is, but...”
My voice trails off for a moment. I'm convinced that Phillips was trying to hint at something earlier, something that I'm not quite understanding.
“Do you really believe she's telling the truth?” Ripley asks. “The woman's an inveterate liar.”
“If she's lying about this,” I reply, “then why did she come here at all? I know we're out of water, but we can last a few more hours, and if we still haven't made any progress we can think about turning her over before nightfall.”
“You're giving her the benefit of the doubt?” Carmichael asks.
I turn to him.
“People will go along with you for now, Asher,” he continues. “They have memories of the good work you did in the past, and they're still mostly in awe of the fact that you've turned up alive. But give it a few hours, wait until they're hungry and thirsty, and the decision might just be taken out of your hands. People have short tempers when their bellies are empty.”
***
Crouching down at the side of one of the other huts, I take a look at the collection of sharpened sticks that somebody has left piled in the dirt. Examining one of them more closely, I see that the sharp end has been tapered expertly, clearly by someone who spent time on the job.
“That's all she does all day,” a voice says suddenly. “Well, that and practice throwing the damn things.”
Turning, I find that Olivia has come over to join me.
“Nissa is a warrior in training,” she explains. “She spends a lot of time trying to get better at using the sticks as a weapon. She's not bad at it, either. I mean, she's only nine, so there are limits. She's not some kind of superhero. But she can throw a mean stick, and sometimes she even gets the tips to dig into the ground. I wouldn't want to get on her bad side, not when she's got about a 25% chance to hurting me with one of these things.”
“I didn't know they were hers,” I reply, setting the stick down and getting to my feet. “I just saw them, that's all.”
“She reminds me of you.”
“That's great. I have to go and talk to the others now.”
Feeling a little flustered, I step past her.
“She made you,” she adds suddenly.
I turn to her, and then I watch as she reaches down and sorts through the sticks. Finally she holds up a smaller collection of twigs that have been bound together with some kind of bark trimming, and I realize after a moment that Nissa seems to have made a small, very crude human figure using twigs and sticks.
“And a bad guy for you to fight,” Olivia continues, holding up a second, slightly larger and bulkier figure. “Whenever she thought nobody was watching, she's play with them.”
“That's... cute,” I reply, although a shudder passes through my chest as I imagine my daughter playing dolls in the dirt.
“You always win,” Olivia adds with a faint smile. “Always. Although sometimes the nasty stick man runs you close. I know these homemade toys look crude, but they can keep Nissa entertained for hours. One time I happened to spot her out in the forest, playing with them in a patch of mud. She had this elaborate story figured out, and she was still playing it several hours later when I passed the area again. Of course, she stopped as soon as she realized I was nearby. She doesn't like to be seen doing kid things.”
“I don't blame her,” I mutter.
“She's nine, but she acts like someone twice that age. Sometimes, at least. Other times, her guard slips and she's more of a child. It must be hard for her, being the only kid around. She doesn't have anyone to play with.”
“No-one else has had children here?”
She shakes her head. “I think they don't see any point in bringing a child into the world, not on the island.”
I pause, before nodding.
“Not that I think you made a mistake,” she adds suddenly, as if she's worried she's said too much. “Asher, I know you -”
“It's fine.”
“I know you didn't plan to have her. I know... Well, I know it's complicated.” She pauses. “Where is Nissa, anyway? You said she's with Iris, but are you sure they're safe?”
“I told them to stay put and keep well out of sight,” I reply. “Hopefully they managed that.”
Looking at the wooden figures, I can't help trying to imagine Nissa playing in the dirt.
“She likes war games,” I whisper finally. “She didn't get that from me.”
“Maybe from her father?” Olivia suggests. “Maybe -”
“She doesn't have a father,” I reply, turning to her. “I mean, not really. Not one who influences her. Maybe it's just in her DNA, but...”
