We rebuilt the huts, of course. After all the bodies had been taken out and identified, we started again with every building in the entire town. It was a tough job, but somehow we got it done. I just wish Asher was able to see it, and to help out. Everyone talks about her all the time, and a lot of people have faith that one day she’ll be among us again.
I’m not so sure.
“Any news?” a voice asks.
Turning, I see that Miranda is working nearby, peeling the skin off a duck.
I shake my head.
“Asher’s strong,” she continues. “If anyone can come back from what happened, it’s her. We all know that.”
I want to ask her what she means, exactly, by that word. Strong? What really makes a person strong? I sure as hell don’t feel strong, and I’m not sure Asher would feel particularly strong right now, if she could feel anything at all. A moment later, however, I realize that someone is waving at me, and I turn to see that Olivia is trying to get my attention from one of the other huts.
“Asher’s going to be fine,” Miranda continues, as if she thinks she can make it true simply by saying the words. “I know it. I feel it deep down.”
Making my way across the busy clearing, I finally reach the hut where Olivia is waiting in the doorway. Before she can even say anything, however, I can see from the expression in her eyes that there’s no good news.
Slipping past her, I step into the hut and see Asher’s unconscious body still laid out on a crude, makeshift bed. The light in here isn’t very strong, but when I get closer I realize that the thick bruises covering her entire body have barely changed since the last time I was here. When we finally found Asher after she’d fallen from the helicopter, I honestly thought she was dead. She had so many broken bones, so many cuts and tears, she looked less like a human being and more like a chunk of meat that had fallen from the sky. Somehow, however, she’s managed to cling to life long past the point where most people would have given up. She’s stayed unconscious, most likely comatose, but her body refuses to die.
Her mind, on the other hand, shows no signs of life.
“I think the splints are working,” Olivia says after a moment. “I was feeling her legs and…” Her voice trails off for a moment. “If she woke up, I honestly believe she’d be able to walk again. Eventually, at least. It’s not her body that’s the problem, at least not anymore.”
Stepping closer to Asher, I look down at her swollen, bruised face. I’d give anything for her to open her eyes, or for her to show some sign that her mind is still in there.
“It’s not impossible that she’ll wake up one day,” Olivia continues. “I was a nurse, remember? It’s unlikely, it’d be almost miraculous, but miracles do happen from time to time. I mean, the fact that she’s still alive at all is a miracle, so why shouldn’t we get one more?”
If I could speak, I’d probably try to temper her optimism, to remind her that Asher will most likely just wither away and die. That her heart will just stop beating one day, and that her body will finally give up its long fight for survival. Then again, maybe it’s a good thing that I can’t say those words out loud. For some reason, people tend to interpret my constant silence as a form of wisdom. Even when they see the stump of my tongue, they think I must be compensating for my inability to speak by somehow becoming smarter and more thoughtful. I wish that was true.
“She’s pretty,” Della’s voice says suddenly.
Glancing to my left, I see my dead sister watching Asher’s face.
“I hope she wakes up,” she continues. “She probably will. She wouldn’t have stayed alive this long, if she was just going to die in her sleep.”
That’s just the kind of thing Della would have said in real life, if she was here.
Figuring that I’ve already got more than enough to be doing, I turn and nod at Olivia and then I make my way to the door. Outside, the town is so lively and full of noise, full of people calling out to one another, that I feel certain Asher would be proud if she only knew that Steadfall had survived. Maybe somehow they’re keeping each other going. Asher’s staying alive because of the town, and the town…
“There’s something else,” Olivia says suddenly.
I turn to her.
“I think I know why she’s still alive,” she continues cautiously. “I think I finally understand what her body is fighting for. I first became suspicious about a month ago, but it seemed impossible so I didn’t say anything. I’ve been watching, through, and I’ve finally realized that I was right.”
I wait, and then I watch as she makes her way to Asher and pulls the front of her tunic up to reveal the flesh of Asher’s belly.
“I can’t even begin to understand it,” she says after a moment, “but she’s pregnant.”
Staring at Asher’s belly, I feel a sense of shock. There’s no way Asher could possibly be pregnant, I can’t believe she’d have slept with anyone here on the island, but I can’t deny that her belly looks slightly larger than usual. It’s also hard to comprehend that a child could be surviving in there, but I know Olivia too well to doubt her. She’s a calm, thoughtful person who never rushes to judgment. If she says Asher’s pregnant, than I guess she must be pregnant.
“I’ve begun to change how I look after her,” Olivia explains. “Whether I can keep either of them alive is…” She pauses. “Well, at least I can try. As long as Asher’s heart keeps beating, there’s hope.”
I know she’s right, but as I step outside and make my way across the clearing I can’t help feeling that her sense of optimism will be short-lived. Asher can’t possibly carry a child all the way to delivery, not in her current state, so it’s inevitable that at some stage her heart will give out. Then again, I guess this is another reminder that my lack of a tongue can sometimes be a positive thing. If I could talk right now, I’d probably annoy everyone with my negativity. As I head out through the gate and into the forest, to check the snares I set yesterday, I have to fight the urge to speak to Della again. I need to keep my head clear, and that means cutting out the long, meandering conversations with my dead sister. I can no longer indulge myself in those flights of fancy. My sister is dead, and I have to accept that fact.
When I reach the snares, I crouch down to start pulling the dead rabbits free. For a moment I lose myself in this simple task, although I can’t help feeling a little sorry for the poor creature. Still, after everything that has happened, it’s good to focus on work.
And that’s, suddenly, I realize I can hear a beeping sound from somewhere nearby.
Looking over my shoulder, I listen to the steady, repetitive beep as it rings out from beyond the next ridge. Getting to my feet, I cautiously make my way closer, while constantly glancing around to make sure there’s no-one nearby. It takes a couple more minutes of searching, but finally I find that the source of the beeping is some kind of device that has been left wedged near an old tree-root. Again I look over my shoulder, just to be sure that I’m not about to be jumped, and then I get down on my knees and take a closer look at the device.
I instantly recognize it as an old-style long-range communication rig, the same kind that I used to see being sold in the market back home. Ex-military, I think. I fiddle with the control panel for a moment, before pressing the button to play back a message that seems to have been left on the system.