by Amy Cross
“I'm sorry,” he says, taking a step back. “Clearly I'm interfering. Forget I said anything.”
He turns to walk away, but I instinctively reach out and grab his arm.
“What people?” I ask.
“I don't want to cause trouble.”
“What people?” I hiss, feeling as if I'm on the verge of panic.
“I saw what happened earlier,” he continues, “and I'm certain I don't need to tell you that your authority got chipped away a little more. Every time something like that occurs, you're edging closer to the moment when your enemies decide to take action. That Deckard guy doesn't seem to like you very much. In fact, I can't shake the feeling that he might have some plans cooking.”
“Deckard just wants to help,” I reply, desperately trying to believe my own words. “He's tough, but he's on my side.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I...” Pausing, I feel a shiver of fear in my chest. “Yes,” I say finally. “I believe it.”
Turning, I make my way toward my hut. Before I can get there, however, I spot Deckard over by the treeline, engaged in what looks like a deep and somewhat intense conversation with a small group. Ellis is there, as is Alison Broaden, and one of the newcomers, Ben, is also with them. I know I shouldn't get paranoid, but I can't shake the feeling that they're locked in some kind of conspiratorial discussion. Slowing my pace a little, I watch as Deckard continues to talk. Damn it, I wish I could lip-read.
“See?” Harold says suddenly as he reaches me again. “That's what I'm talking about. You need to watch your back.”
“I'll be fine,” I mutter, although I can't stop watching as Deckard seems to be giving orders to the others. In turn, they're paying attention to his every word. I guess my suspicions about Deckard were right all along.
“You might be fine,” Harold continues, “or you might not. I know I'm an outsider here, but that gives me a certain perspective. How many people have you got in this town? Forty? Fifty?”
“Fifty-six,” I reply, before turning to him. “Fifty-nine now, after the three of you arrived.”
“That's a lot for one person to keep under control. Have you considered sharing your responsibilities and -”
“Steadfall's mine,” I say firmly.
“But if -”
“Everyone knew that when they came,” I continue, unable to hide my sense of irritation. “I wanted a place to call my own, so I established one. People started to show up, offering to help in exchange for being allowed to stay. Maybe I shouldn't have let them, maybe I should have kept it small, but... The choice is made and Steadfall is the one thing I remember about my -”
I catch myself just in time. He doesn't need to know about my reasons for maintaining control of this place. No-one needs to know why the name Steadfall is so important to me.
“You're the prime,” I remember Doctor Phillips telling me all those years ago, when I was just a little girl. “That's why I need you to focus on something important. You need to focus as hard as you can, because the other little girls will try to swamp you.”
As much as I hated her, and still do, I know she was right.
“Maybe you should have kept the town small,” Harold says with a smile, “but you didn't. Do you know what this Steadfall joint reminds me of? The wild west. Have you ever seen images from history of those little towns that used to get built in the United States back in the nineteenth century? I mean, you don't have horses here, and frankly you're lacking a lot of other luxuries like glass and metal, guns, that sort of thing... But in spirit, and to some extent in terms of how it looks, Steadfall seems like some kind of wild west town way, way out in the sticks. It's actually kind of cool, but if you know anything about history at all, you'll understand that maintaining control might not be too easy.”
“I don't need your advice,” I tell him firmly. “I appreciate the effort, but I'd appreciate it more if you'd make yourself useful. I have to go and do a few things in the forest. Let me handle my own problems.”
“Just trying to help.”
“Well, don't!”
He pauses, as if he's going to keep pestering me, but finally he seems to get the message.
As Harold walks away, I can't help turning to look at Deckard, and I quickly see that his little gathering has dispersed. The last thing I need is to get paranoid, but I have no doubt that Harold was right. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to re-assert my authority around here. Either that, or Steadfall will be taken away from me.
***
“Rest in peace, old guy,” I mutter as I twist a makeshift grave-marker into the ground. It's nothing special, just a piece of wood with Harry's name carved into the side, but I've made it a point to bury the dead properly. Not only because of sanitation issues, but also because I think everyone deserves a grave. We're not animals.
Glancing at one of the other grave-markers nearby, I spot Jude's name carved into wood. Even after everything she did to me, I made sure to bury her once her body washed ashore.
“If you could see me now...” I whisper.
For a moment, I think back to the days when Jude and I used to wander the island. At the time, I felt lost and disconnected, but now I'm tempted to go back to that old lifestyle. After all, I came to the island to get away from human civilization, not to recreate it in the mud.
“You're prickly around other people,” I remember Jude telling me once. She knew me so well. “You over-think things, and sometimes you end up going off the deep-end.”
She was right.
I wish I could talk to her now, but eventually she turned against me. I learned a valuable lesson that day. No matter how much someone seems to be on your side, they'll betray you if they think it's in their best interests. Jude did it, and now Deckard's headed the same way.
I can't trust anyone.
Suddenly I hear footsteps in the distance, and I turn to look back through the forest. At first I don't see any sign of life, but after a couple of seconds I spot a few figures making their way between the trees. I hold my breath for a moment, waiting to make absolutely certain that they're from Steadfall, and then I relax a little as soon as I recognize Ellis and Bean. They usually go off in the afternoons to check the farthest rabbit snares, so I guess this is normal behavior for them, although I stay low and make sure not to attract attention while they make their way over the crest of a small hill and disappear from view. After everything that has happened today, the last thing I need is to get into any more 'discussions' with people who don't agree with how I handled the Harry Shaw situation. The worse things get, the more inclined I feel to be alone out here away from town.
Unfortunately, as I get to my feet, Harold's words are still ringing in my ears. He's only been in town for a few hours and he already sees that I'm struggling.
Hearing more footsteps, I turn and look over my shoulder. At first I assume that it's just more people from Steadfall going about their business, but after a few seconds there's still no sign of anyone. I take a step forward, waiting to hear them again, but now the forest has once more fallen silent. Reaching down, I check that my knife is still securely tucked into my waist-band.
“Hello?” I call out cautiously. “Who's there?”
I wait. One of the few rules I've instituted at Steadfall is that everyone must make their presence known in a situation like this, or risk getting hurt. No sneaking about.
Silence.
“I need you to show yourself,” I continue. “Let's not make this difficult. Show your face.”
Again I wait, but again there's no sign of anyone.
I slip my knife free and hold it out, ready to defend myself if necessary. Although most people come to Steadfall in peace, we've had a few difficult encounters over the years and I know there's always a chance that some maniac will stray into our territory. It's never particularly safe to be out alone in the forest, even so close to town. Still, as I continue to wait for any sign that someone is nearby, I can't help t
hinking back to the numerous false alarms that occur several times every week. Sometimes I feel as if everyone at Steadfall spends half their time hiding from shadows, but the truth is that the island remains an extremely dangerous place.
Eventually, once I'm sure that there's no-one around, I head to the next ridge and take a look, before turning and making my way back to the grave-markers. As I slip my knife away, I reach down and grab the spare pieces of wood I brought along, and then I turn and start trudging back through the forest. I know I have to go back to town and face the dirty looks I get from everyone there, but I just hope that a chance arises soon for me to prove to them that I can be a leader. I screwed up with Harry Shaw, I should have just made a big show of killing him, but I've always made a point of never ending another life unless it's in self-defense. Maybe I should just make more of an effort with Deckard and try to -
Suddenly someone grabs me from behind and slams me face-first into the nearest tree, while pulling the knife from my hand.
Chapter Ten
Iris
Everywhere I look, I find more dead bodies. And just when I've gotten used to the sight of burned human skulls, I realize I can hear a faint, persistent buzzing sound coming from beyond the clearing's far edge.
Flies.
Lots of fat, buzzing flies.
Forcing myself to go and take a look, I keep my knife in my right hand as I make my way past the clearing. I can see the flies up ahead now, filling the air and crawling all over the tree-trunks. There's a foul, putrid smell too, something sweet and pungent, and it only takes a moment longer for me to spot the first of the corpses that have been left to rot out here.
“Don't,” Della's voice whispers firmly.
I have to look.
“No, you don't. They're dead, you already know that. There's no need to go and see something so horrible.”
I want to see.
I can't hide from the horror.
Waving flies away, I step forward a few more paces, before stopping next to a dead woman who has been dumped on the ground.
Her head is tilted back, and it's clear that she died screaming. Her hands have been pinned to the ground, with thick wooden stakes through the palms, and her chest appears to have been partially crushed. The remaining flesh is bloodied and torn, although a tattoo of a boat against a sunset is still just about visible on her bare left shoulder. Waving more flies away, I step around the dead woman so I can get a closer look at her face. Her body is a rotten, seething mass of maggots, with hundreds of flies crawling all over her remaining flesh, but I can still see where her ribs appear to have been torn open on one side. Her eyes have been completely eaten away, and most of her nose has collapsed into the seething mass of maggots that now occupy her skull.
A fly lands on my lips and I spit it away, while brushing more from my hair.
Nearby, the body of a man appears to have been put through a similar ordeal, although his belly is much larger than the woman's, suggesting that there are more maggots living in his gut. When I look at his arms, I see that a few letters appear to have been carved into his flesh, although he's so discolored now that I can't make out what the letters were supposed to spell out. Several spots on his body have been mutilated, more so even than the woman's, and a knife has been left embedded in his groin. Similar injuries are evident on another man nearby, although his head appears to have been partially separated from his neck and drawn out, exposing a section of gleaming white spinal column.
I was right earlier. This is the work of someone who really gets a kick of killing people.
A shiver passes through my chest as I start to realize that these people weren't just murdered after their town was destroyed. They were tortured to death.
Chapter Eleven
Asher
“Careful!” a familiar voice sneers, kicking me in the side of the head before I have a chance to get up. I fall back and slam down hard against the forest floor, only for another kick to crunch into my ribs.
“Let's just get this done, okay?” a second voice mutters. “There's no point dragging it out.”
“You don't think she's earned it?”
“I think we need to get the job done!”
Looking up, I see Ellis standing over me, staring down with the same hint of anticipation that was in his eyes earlier when he was beating Harry Shaw. Alison Broaden is next to him, with Bean standing just a little way back and a guy named Joe watching from a few meters away. I guess it took four of them to work up the courage for this, although I'm a little surprised that Deckard didn't join them. Glancing around, I half expect to see him nearby, but I guess he decided he didn't want to get his hands dirty.
Coward.
A moment later, someone punches me in the back of the neck and I fall forward, landing on my wrists and letting out a gasp of pain.
“This is for the good of the settlement,” Ellis tells me. “A few of us have been talking, and we figure it's best if you just go away, Asher. It's not that we aren't grateful. You did a good job with the place, it wouldn't have grown without your work, but the time's come for someone stronger to take your place, someone who's got the guts to make tough decisions. And seeing as you won't step aside voluntarily -”
I cry out again as I'm kicked hard in the gut. Falling to one side, I look up and see Alison sneering down at me.
“Not going to call for help?” she asks with a faint smile. “We thought you might put up more of a struggle.”
“No-one'd hear,” I reply, staring at her with a sense of pure hatred in my chest. “We're too far from town. After all, none of you cowards would dare attack me if there was even a chance I could fight back.”
“People'll thank us eventually,” Ellis replies, stepping closer to me with a knife in his right hand. “We won't tell them what happened. Most folk'll just think you gave up and ran away. That seems like a slightly nicer story, don't you think? Or maybe we'll say you died heroically. Yeah, that's a better idea. We'll make out that you were some kind of martyr. You're more useful to Steadfall as a legend, Asher. You might even inspire people. Then we can get on with shaping Steadfall and making it stronger, and protecting it against enemies.”
“What enemies?” I ask breathlessly, trying to keep him talking while I work out who to strike first. “We haven't seen anything to suggest that we're under threat! You're just letting yourself get spooked! It's a way of controlling you!”
“We'll be attacked eventually,” he continues. “Deckard is right, the bigger Steadfall becomes, the more it'll be seen as a target. Better to take action now, instead of getting caught on the back-foot later.”
Suddenly Alison grabs my head and pulls me back, exposing my neck as Ellis steps closer. I try to get free, but Bean has a hand on my shoulder, pushing me down. These assholes are well-organized and smart, and I doubt they've under-estimated me, but I still have a good chance to get out of this mess if I just pick the right moment. In the old days, before I ever came to the island, I was in worse spots once or twice and I made it out just fine. Plus, I survived a full tour of duty in the war, even if I don't remember exactly what happened out there.
“You'll be a legend,” Ellis explains, moving the blade closer to my chest. “People might even -”
“Hey!” a voice calls out suddenly. “Do you need help over there?”
Turning, I see to my horror that Harold is headed this way, smiling and waving. Just when I was ready to fight back and drop these assholes, now I have to work out what the hell Harold is up to.
“What does he want?” Joe hisses.
Lunging forward, I grab Ellis's arm and twist him around, cracking his wrist against my knee so that he drops the knife. At the same time, I take the knife in my left hand and slash it across his face, causing him to let out a cry of pain as he falls back. Turning, I swing my elbow at Alison, crunching her nose and dropping her to the ground, and then I look around just in time to see Joe running away, hurrying toward the ridge that leads further inla
nd. Hearing movement nearby, I turn again and raise the knife until it's just inches from Harold's face. I wait, breathlessly, for him to make the slightest move toward me.
“Looks like you don't need help,” he says with a smile. “I'm impressed. You obviously know how to look after yourself, although I'd kind of picked up on that already.”
Taking a step back, I hear Ellis groaning on the floor. I glance down and slam my boot into the back of his neck, knocking him out, before turning back to face Harold. I still don't know which side he's on, but right now I'm ready to fight if he puts so much as a foot wrong. It can't be a coincidence that he showed up just when these three assholes tried to kill me.
“I was following you,” he explains. “There, I admitted it. I figured someone was going to try something, so I followed you from a distance. I guess I thought I could step in if you needed help but, from the looks of things, you seem to have had it all under control.”
“I was about to knock their heads together,” I say firmly.
“Of course you were.”
“Do you doubt me?” I hiss, stepping closer to him.
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Not for a moment,” he says calmly, and I get the feeling he's being honest. He pauses, eying me with the faintest trace of a smile. “I've been watching you since I arrived,” he adds finally. “Maybe I should have been a little more subtle about it, but the truth is, you're really not the kind of person I pictured being in charge of a small community. That's not to say you can't do it, but I can definitely see areas where you're struggling. You're stubborn.”
“I get by,” I tell him, feeling a shiver of irritation.
“But for how long?”
I want to tell him to go to hell, but instead I turn and start making my way back over to look down at Ellis's unconscious body on the forest floor. Nudging the side of his face with my boot, I find that he's still out cold. Nearby, Alison is groaning as she clutches her broken nose, from which plenty of blood has already spilled out onto her hands.
