The trick is to enjoy it. How do you enjoy that?
You have to find a way.
Celia has told me that Annalise is unharmed, as are Deborah, Arran, and Gran, but the implication is that that may change at any time. When I’m dead they will be safe.
That’s the upside.
I can enjoy thinking they are all alive and well and safe.
Annalise is in the woods, running around, smiling, laughing, climbing the sandstone cliff. I want to see her and touch her skin again; I want her to kiss my fingers, my face, my body. And I know it will never happen, and instead she will be with some shithead White Witch who has his paws all over her. Enjoy that!
Deborah will marry a nice guy, have kids, and be happy. I can imagine that. That’s true. She’ll have three or four kids and she’ll be a great mum and they’ll all be happy. Gran will live peacefully in her house drinking tea and feeding the chickens.
They are good thoughts. And then I remember Gran and Deborah crying on the landing. But their tears dried then and they’d dry again—maybe they already have. Maybe they think I’m dead already.
I don’t think Arran will believe I’m dead. I remember him sweeping my hair back and saying, “I couldn’t stand it.” His foot is sticking out of the bed and my fingertips are kissing his forehead, and I am crying.
A Hunter
It’s my sixteenth birthday. I’ve been weighed and measured by Celia. She’s shaved my head and removed my piercings.
It’s midmorning and I’m back in the cage, shackled up. I guess Celia thinks it makes her look conscientious.
A jeep appears on the track. In the stillness, it seems grotesquely loud. And it just keeps getting louder. Eventually it stops and they get out.
The Council Leader hasn’t bothered to come, and neither has the other woman. But Annalise’s uncle, Soul O’Brien, is here, and with him are two other men. A dark-haired youngish man, dressed in new walking boots, jeans, and a pristine, waxed jacket. He’s so pale he looks like he’s not been outside for years. In contrast the other man looks like he’s spent his life outdoors. His blond hair is mixed with gray. He is tall, muscular, and dressed in black, which gives me a clue to what he is. But it’s easy to tell them. They have a way of looking down at everyone else, even the Councilors.
Celia goes to meet them. I wonder if she will salute or shake hands. Neither.
They come over to look at me. Caged up. The Hunter has pale blue eyes that are hardly blue at all they have so much silver in them.
They all look at me, then they all turn their backs on me and look at the scenery, and then they all go inside.
It’s the usual routine for assessments after that. I’m left to wait.
Eventually Celia comes to get me. She doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the cage and leads the way to the cottage. She stops by the front door. As I walk past her and go inside I wonder if she’ll say good luck, but she’s not that nervous.
The three visitors are sitting at the kitchen table. I’m standing, of course. Outside, Celia passes the window, pacing.
Annalise’s uncle asks all the questions and makes notes. The same sort of questions that Celia has asked me every month. He squirms when I try to read, but mostly his expression is one of boredom. He never hurries, and we eventually work through all the mental tests.
He says, “That’s all my questions.”
He’s not talking to me but to the Hunter. The Hunter’s not spoken yet. Not to me, nor to them.
The Hunter gets up and walks around me, eyeing me. He’s taller than me, but not by much, and he’s solid. His chest is twice as thick as mine and his neck is huge.
He stands behind me and speaks quietly, close to my ear so that I can feel his breath. “Take your shirt off.”
I do as he says. Slowly, but I do it.
The third man, the dark-haired one, gets up and walks around to look at my back. He takes hold of my arm, and it’s all I can do not to pull away. His fingers are clammy, weak. He turns my hand over, looking at the scars on my wrists. “You can heal well. And quickly?”
I’m not sure what to say.
“Let’s go outside and see,” the Hunter says. Again I feel his breath on my neck.
The Hunter speaks to Celia. She nods and walks over to the area where we practice self-defense.
“Show me what he can do,” the Hunter says.
Celia and I do a bit of sparring.
The Hunter says to stop and calls Celia over to him for a quiet word in her ear.
Celia comes back to me and I can see she’s serious. We fight. She beats me; I let her get too close. I’ve got a bloody nose and a swollen eye.
Now I am summoned over. The dark-haired man wants to see me heal. I do it, slowly.
I think that’s going to be it, but the Hunter speaks with Celia and then turns to me and says, “Do the outer circuit.”
I do a fair pace. No point in killing myself.
When I get back the Hunter makes Celia and me fight again. But Celia is armed with a knife this time. She wins again. I have a cut on my arm. I have to heal that for the dark-haired man.
“Do the outer circuit again.” The dark-haired man says it this time.
I do as I’m told. I don’t push too hard, because I’m fairly sure I’ll be beaten up again at the end of it.
Correct. And Celia wins again. She’s obviously been told not to hold back. I get stabbed in the thigh. Deep. I’m pissed off now. I heal and . . .
“Do the outer circuit again.”
I do it but I’m not thinking about the run, just thinking about that little dark-haired man standing there, smiling.
This time when I get back the Hunter is smiling too.
I have a bad feeling.
I have to fight Celia again. I’ve just done the circuit three times and been beaten up three times already today. I do my best to keep out of Celia’s reach, and I even land a kick, but when I’m backed up near the Hunter he pushes me into Celia and it’s all over. I’m on the ground. The Hunter comes over and kicks me hard in the ribs. And again. His boots are like breeze blocks.
“Get up. Do the outer circuit.”
I know that a few ribs are broken. He does too, I suppose.
I heal them and get up slowly.
Then he hits me and knocks me to the ground again. More kicks. More broken ribs. I stay down.
“I said, get up and do the outer circuit.”
I can heal but it’s not as strong. My ability is being used up. I get to my feet slowly. Then I set off, slowly again.
I tell myself to relax on the run. Forget about them. Pretend they don’t exist. I do the circuit, but my ribs are only just healed by the time I get back.
The dark-haired man comes over and looks at my chest. The bruising has gone.
Then the Hunter comes over, carrying a sort of truncheon. I look at Celia, but she is looking down.
When he’s finished I’m just left there on the ground. The truncheon was strange. I don’t think anything’s broken, but I’m feeling odd.
The dark-haired man stands over me. “Can you heal?” he asks me. “Can you get up?”
Yeah, I can get up. I get to my knees but then everything swirls around and it’s nice to lie down.
When I open my eyes again Celia is crouched beside me.
I ask her, “Have they gone?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll just rest here.”
“Yes.”
Early evening and I’m fully healed. I’m having extra helpings of stew and bread. Celia is quiet, watching me eat.