“Please,” he continues, “I thought no-one was here anymore, I just thought that maybe…” He pauses for a moment. “I thought they were all gone. I thought maybe there was a chance something had been left behind, that’s all! I know it’s bad to steal from the dead, but what choice do I have? I was hoping for food.”
“I don’t believe him,” Della’s voice hisses. “He’s lying!”
“I’m just a scavenger!” he sobs. “I know it’s wrong, but I thought I might be able to get something useful! Look at me, I’m just an old man!”
I need to ask this guy questions, but I have no way to get through to him. It’s not like I have a handy pen and a pad of paper that’d let me write things down, so I look around, hoping that—
Suddenly he lets out a cry, and I turn just as he throws mud at my face in a surprising but ineffectual move. Startled, I brush the mud away as the guy scrambles to his feet and starts to run. I watch for a moment, before figuring that I can’t just let him go. Fortunately, he’s so old and wiry, I quickly catch up to him and pull him back, and this time I end up slamming him against a tree with more force than I’d intended. I swear, I feel his entire body shudder.
“Don’t hurt him!” Della’s voice sobs.
That’s better.
That’s what Della would really say to me in this situation.
“What do you want?” the man shouts, stumbling back from me with tears in his eyes. “I don’t have anything! I literally have nothing in the world to give you, so if you’re trying to rob me, you’re out of luck! If you’re going to kill me, just… Please don’t, please, I don’t want to die like this!”
I stare at him for a moment, before turning and pointing toward the burned town. He stares at me, as if he doesn’t quite understand, so I sigh before pointing again.
“What about it?” he sobs, staring at me as if I’m some kind of freak. “I don’t… What’s wrong with you? What do you want?”
“What happened?” I mouth carefully, hoping that he’ll be able to lip-read.
He frowns.
I try again, and then I open my mouth wide so that he can see the stump of my tongue. It takes a moment, but finally I see from the shock in his eyes that he understands. He peers closer, as if he’s never seen anything so disgusting in his life.
“Tell me,” I say slowly, still pointing toward the town, “what happened!”
Chapter Fifteen
She’s dying. I see that now.
It’s been a couple of hours since I followed Emma out of the town. She eventually collapsed just a few meters beyond the tree-line, so – after quickly going back to fetch food and water – I’ve been sitting here ever since, staying close while making sure she can’t touch me. I know I’m not really helping, and she hasn’t even responded to my offers of something to eat or drink, but I also know I can’t just leave her here.
Her breathing is becoming increasingly ragged.
At this rate, she’ll be dead within the hour.
“I won’t leave you,” I tell her, for what must be the hundredth time. “Whatever’s wrong, Emma, you have to fight it. I know you’re—”
Before I can finish, I feel a sudden sense of familiarity, as if I’ve been in a situation like this before. I don’t remember sitting with a dying woman in the middle of a forest, but the feeling of deja vu is too strong to ignore. I take a deep breath, trying to concentrate, and for a moment I feel as if a long-buried memory is trying to force its way through from the back of my mind, desperately attempting to get my attention.
Something like this did happen before.
During the war, I think—
Suddenly hearing footsteps nearby, I feel the memory slip away. I turn, half-expecting to see Harold approaching yet again. Instead I spot Deckard making his way toward me, and I immediately tense when I see the thunderous expression on his face. Getting to my feet, I see that he’s not holding a knife, and I remind myself that he’s unlikely to attack me here, so close to the town. Still, as he stops next to me and looks down at Emma’s shivering form, I can’t help thinking that he’ll try to use this situation to his advantage.
“Is anyone else showing symptoms?” I ask finally.
“Not that they’ll admit,” he replies, still staring at Emma. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Mary, though. I think she’s hiding something.”
“She and Emma work together most days,” I point out. “If Emma caught this, it stands to reason that—”
“I know,” he adds, interrupting me. “Like I said, I’ve been watching her like a hawk. I think she knows I’m suspicious, too. Fortunately she’s keeping away from the others.” He pauses for a moment, as Emma lets out a faint, agonized groan. “How long do you think she has left?”
Grabbing his arm, I pull him away. There’s no need for Emma to overhear our conversation.
“How long?” he asks again, sounding frustrated.
“An hour or two,” I mutter.
“Really?” He turns to me. “Your pessimism is surprising. I thought you’d insist she still has a chance.”
“We need to think about how we’re going to handle this,” I tell him. “If Mary or anyone else gets sick, we might be facing an epidemic. We can’t take risks, we have to—”
I catch myself just in time, but deep down I know that Harold was right.
“We might have to evacuate the town,” I continue finally.
He frowns.
“Get people away from each other,” I point out. “Make them spread out for a few days. At least that way, people who are already sick won’t be able to pass it on to the ones who are healthy. I know it’s a drastic approach, but we can’t afford to be complacent.”
“Makes sense,” he replies, nodding slowly as he looks back down at Emma. “I think we can rule out food poisoning. Her symptoms are more flu-like, but obviously it’s progressing much faster than flu. You haven’t touched her, have you?”
I shake my head.
“Has she been sneezing or coughing? If you’ve been too close—”
“I’ve kept my distance,” I tell him. “I just didn’t think it was right to leave her out here alone.”
I wait, convinced that he’s going to tell me I’m a fool, but instead he seems lost in thought.
“That’s good of you,” he says finally. “I’m sure she appreciates it.”
After watching him for a moment longer, I realize that I can’t hold back.
“I know it was you,” I blurt out.
“You know what was me?”
“Don’t act dumb,” I continue. “Your friends tried to ambush me in the forest. I killed Alison, and I sent Ellis and Joe packing. Before you even try to claim you weren’t behind what happened, save your breath.” I wait for him to reply, but his expression remains inscrutable as he stares at me. “I’m warning you,” I tell him, as I feel anger rising through my chest, “I’m not going to be driven out of Steadfall. This is my town—”
“No-one’s disputing that,” he replies.
“If you don’t like the way I do things,” I add, “feel free to leave.”
“You’re very keen to stay in charge,” he continues. “For someone who seems to be such a loner, anyway.”
“Steadfall is mine,” I tell him. “It’s the only thing I’ve got left to fight for.”
“And you think I tried to have you killed?”
“I know you did.”
“Who put that particular idea in your head?” he asks.
“I saw you talking to Ellis and the others,” I continue. “I saw you plotting something. I’m not stupid, Deckard. I know it’s no coincidence that I saw you with them just a few hours before I was attacked.”