I didn’t tell a single lie, but I left out a lot. And all the time I hoped that no one would ever contradict me.
When I was done, Chief was quiet for a while. “You’re a brave boy,” he said.
“No, I’m not. Not everyone wanted to come here, but I promised them it would be all right. Now mine is the only family that hasn’t lost a member. I can’t stop thinking it’s my fault.”
He didn’t tell me I was wrong, and I was grateful for that. He just kept sliding the wires along and twisting them and saving the chickens for one more day. “I’d like you and your friends to form a food-gathering group. Sumter’s resources aren’t enough to provide for everyone.”
“We’ll do whatever you need,” I assured him.
“I know you will.” He moved the tool from his right hand to his left and flexed his fingers. The joints were red and swollen. “I’ve seen so many people die since the Plague started, Thomas. And with every death, I remind myself that here was a person who trusted me. It never gets easier, and I can never reason my way out of it. I’d like to tell you that you’ll get over what you’re feeling now, but you won’t. Not really. You’ll be reminded of it every time you look at Alice and her mother. Just as I’m reminded of death every time I look at Jerren and Nyla.”
“How so?”
He stared at the outline of Charleston, a few miles to the west. “They came here four years ago. Beautiful children. Hard workers too. And their parents were the best of any of us. But they contracted the Plague during a trip to one of the harbor islands.”
I surveyed the harbor and wondered which of the thin strips of land it had been. “If there were rats, what were they doing there?”
He handed the tool back to me. “Gathering food,” he said matter-of-factly. “Just as you will be tomorrow.” He paused to let the words sink in. “There’s a reason we call them suicide squads.”
CHAPTER 14
I stayed on the peninsula for most of the afternoon. It was hot, hard work, but Chief brought me food and a canister of water to drink. I’d have kept going even if he hadn’t. All my life, I’d been told to leave the most important jobs to others. Now a relative stranger was leaving the fate of the colony’s chickens in my hands.
With each passing strike, the tide fell. It uncovered more of the peninsula, mud flats that stretched a hundred yards to the south. Gulls pursued the receding waterline, eyes and beaks fixed on the turbulent water, and the fish caught in it.
“Can rats cross from over there?” I asked, pointing to the land beyond the mud flats.
“In theory, yes,” said Chief, taking a break. “But that land you’re seeing is tidal. Spider Island, it’s called. Mostly it’s marshland. Only way rats are crossing from there is if they plan the whole thing out.”
I chuckled. “So we’ll be fine, is what you’re saying.”
“No.” Chief wasn’t laughing. “Actually, I think it’s inevitable they’ll cross one day.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said.” He fixed me with his eyes. “Times are changing, Thomas. Eighteen years ago, rats were as misunderstood as any native rodent. They were shy. They lived in human cities, but hid in sewers so they wouldn’t be disturbed. But they needed humans in those cities. Needed food waste in order to survive. They’re desperate now. And like any animal driven to desperation, they’re overcoming their instinct to hide. It’s not difficult to see where this is all heading.”
The tide was turning. I could tell by the way the gulls began to backtrack, one step at a time.
“What will you do to stop the rats?” I asked.
Chief was watching the gulls too, perhaps making mental calculations about the width of the channel that kept us apart from Spider Island. “I’ll stand on this exact spot at every low tide, just as we’re doing now. And the day they cross, I’ll do whatever I need to.”
Chief turned to face me again. He looked as though he was prepared to say more, but then his eyes drifted past me. He wore a confused expression.
I looked too. Griffin was hurrying toward me. The ground wasn’t entirely even, and his limp was pronounced. Come, he signed, before he even reached me.
Why? I replied.
Rose. Element.
My stomach knotted. Why would she risk revealing her element to the Sumter colonists?
Chief cleared his throat, startling me. “Everything all right, Thomas?”
I gave a halfhearted nod. “Rose isn’t feeling right, is all. I should . . . you know . . .”
Chief waved his hand, giving me permission to leave.
Griffin led the way. We passed the main gate and continued following the exterior wall. When we turned the corner to the fort’s next flank, I saw her.
Rose was sitting on one of the large boulders at the base of the walls. Water swirled around her legs and up to her waist. The current was fast as the tide fell. Her tunic billowed around her. She held steady against the swell and kept her hands flat against the surface of the water.
I kept my voice low. “What are you doing, Rose?”
She didn’t answer. Probably didn’t even hear me. It was a stupid question anyway. We both knew what she was doing.
I glanced at the battlements to make sure that no one was watching. “We mustn’t use our elements here. People won’t understand—”
I broke off as a fish surfaced a few yards away from her. I’d seen her lure fish back on Hatteras, but I hadn’t expected her to be able to do it here. Not with her element so weak.
Rose shut her eyes tight and grimaced as she channeled what little of her element remained. If anyone saw her, they would know that something strange was going on.
With the fish floundering a couple yards in front of her, Rose eased forward to claim her prize. But as she moved, her concentration must have waned, because the fish pulled away.
“Rose!” Marin’s shrill voice filled the air. When she and Dennis pulled alongside me, she pursed her lips. “Did you and Griffin put her up to this?”
I tried to keep calm. “No. I’ve been telling her to stop.”
Rose was ignoring us both. Slowly, meticulously, she drew the fish toward her again.
This time, Marin stepped gingerly over the boulders and brushed by her daughter. The water came up to her waist and then her chest, but she kept moving forward until the fish was within reach. She slid her hand under it and grabbed tightly. The fish struggled, but Marin had done this many times before. She didn’t let go.
As Rose’s shoulders relaxed at last, Marin carried the fish back to the rocks. She paused beside her daughter. “No more, Rose. This is the last.”
The fish struggled, silver scales reflecting in the sun, but couldn’t escape her grasp. Tunic slick against her, Marin raised the fish above her and brought it down sharply. She repeated the motion until the fish was dead.
Something high above us caught my eye then. I glanced at the top of the wall in time to see a flash of bright clothing slide from view.
Someone had been watching.
I hurried to Rose’s side. “We mustn’t use our elements anymore. We talked about it, remember?”
She wouldn’t look at me. Even worse, she was already channeling her element again. She clearly wasn’t content with just one fish, and wanted to feed the entire colony. But what would they make of that?
I pulled her around. “Stop it, Rose.”
She seemed to awake from a trance. “Let me be.”
“No.”
She slapped the water, showering both of us. “We need to do something, Thomas. You haven’t seen the way these people look at us, like we’re a burden on them.”