by Casey Hays
All of it is new and daunting, and in some ways, magical in all its ugly dreariness.
I am still chilled, and I sink into the worn mattress only to find a large hole I hadn’t noticed, which I must maneuver my aching body around to avoid. Diana is quiet beside me, and soon, I’m on the edge of sleep.
“What do you think they do in the Village tonight?”
Diana’s question comes at me out of the darkness, and I blink wide awake.
“Do you think they are at celebration?” she presses. “Has another girl come of age?”
I swallow. My throat hurts with a dull scratchiness I hadn’t noticed until now. Diana continues.
“Perhaps the bonfire blazes, and the children run around in its light.” There is a smile in her voice. “Or maybe the village is quiet, and the women sit around the firepot dipping stew into their bowls. What do you think, Kate?”
I don’t know how to answer. The images are comforting when I don’t want them to be, and I swallow the lump that grows. I clasp a hand to my sore throat.
“Do you think there is a new leader? Do you think it is Tara?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Or did they heed your speech? I wonder . . . will the Council let the women decide who will lead?”
I am silent, not interested in revisiting the Village tonight. None of what Diana says matters now. Not for us.
“I hope Mia is all right,” she says.
She chokes on the words, and then she weeps softly. I roll onto my side, a hand against her cheek.
“Diana,” I whisper. My own tears spill over then. Mia’s face clouds my mind.
“What if I was wrong?” She’s nearly incoherent, blubbering her words. “What if Tabitha dies? It’s my fault. All of it is my fault if she dies.”
“No, Diana.” I squeeze her arm. “Don’t think such things.”
“But it is. She would be safe and well if we were still in the Village. What if I’ve killed her?”
“Diana, listen to yourself!” I prop on an elbow. “First of all, she could have become ill in the Village just as easily. It happened often. Secondly, she is not dead. And what kind of life would she have had, really? None that you want for her. Think of it. She may not have died all at once, but she would have died a slow death on the inside. You cannot wish that for her to save her life now.”
Another hiccupping sob escapes her.
“You did what you did because you love her. She deserved a chance, even with the risks. And you’re giving that to her.”
“You’re right,” she says with resolution, wiping at her eyes, and a heavy sigh escapes her. She sits, nodding her head fiercely as if to convince herself against her will. “You’re right. I’m being unreasonable. I—I can’t think straight just now. I’m so worried. I miss her so much already.”
“I know.” I hug her close. “But you can’t lose hope. You have to believe until there’s no reason to anymore. Justin says his father is a good doctor. He will save her. Hold on to that.”
She lies back with a deep breath. “Yes. This is what I must do.”
“Let’s try to sleep. Tomorrow, we are one day closer to finding out.”
She turns away from me, and her shoulders once again rack with silent crying despite what I’ve said. I lie back to stare at the ceiling. I let her cry. I have no more comfort to give. A tear escapes, dripping down my temple into my hairline.
I have no idea if any of it is true.
I don’t even know if we will ever see Tabitha again.
My shivering wakes me in the night—a trembling tumble that surges through my body in waves and stills just in time for the next round of tremors. I tug at the sleeping bag, pulling it up to my chin, but it does no good. The trembling is not from the cold. It’s inside me.
My throat aches with a stark rawness. I swallow. The pain causes my breath to catch.
I push the sleeping bag away and throw my feet over the side of the bed. The carpet—thin and worn though it is—is foreign after so many years of dirt floors. My head pounds to match my aching body. Slowly I rise, steady myself. I’m so thirsty.
My one bottle of water sits on a dresser with a large, cracked mirror. I reach for the bottle; my other self reaches for hers, startling me. Another new anomaly I’ve discovered since leaving my village—the ability to see my reflection in something other than a bucket of water. At the moment, the girl staring back into the dark room is frightening. A shadow hiding within the glass; a hunching mystery monstrously shivering with my shivers. I look away quickly.
Another surge of shivers shakes my body. I raise the bottle, drink all that remains of the boiled, river water. The lukewarm liquid soothes my throat, but it isn’t enough. My thirst grows stronger.
I search around in the dark for another bottle, find an empty one among Diana’s things. My tongue seems to swell in my mouth. I stumble into the hallway. Diana doesn’t wake.
I have to lean against the wall more than once as I make my way to the next room. What is wrong with me? I am so weak. I open the door and stumble through, my knees hitting the floor as a dizzy, nauseous feeling swarms inside me. Max sits up straight in the bed.
“Who’s there?” His deep voice cracks through the darkness, sleepy but etched with warning. And I hear the familiar flick of his pocketknife.
“It’s me,” I whisper. “Do you have any water left?”
“Kate?” He kneels beside me. I can barely make out his red t-shirt against his dark skin. I feel his big, rough hand graze my arm. “Are you sick?”
I shake my head. “Thirsty. I’m thirsty.”
He helps me to my feet and settles me onto the edge of the bed. In an instant, the water from his bottle touches my lips. I drink heavily, hardly stopping for breath until the last drop is gone. My throat burns with a fire now. He hands me another bottle.
“Sit tight. I’m getting Justin.”
I lie back, close my eyes, clutching the glorious second bottle of water close to my chest.
Soon, I’m drifting. I’m floating through the clouds, flat on my back, and the warm rays of the sun beat on me. But I can’t get warm. I shiver under their beams. I stretch out my arms, longing to embrace the warmth, but the sun shrinks back until it is a tiny speck, and darkness consumes me. I call out to it, but the stars answer, crisp and cold and sparkling. The Archer laughs, his arrow poised. I tumble out of the sky and fall to earth, and the ground is shaking with his laughter.
A hand on my forehead pulls me out of the dream, or the vision, or whatever other thing my brain has concocted. I suck in a breath and pull up half-way to my elbows.
“Lie back, Kate.”
It’s Justin, his tall shadow looming in the flashlight beam. I grab for his hand.
“Where’s Ian? Where is he? I need him.”
“Shhh. It’s okay. We’re going to take care of you.”
My heavy lids close, but I cling to his hand.
“What’s wrong with her?” Max asks. His eyes roam over me, inspecting me, as if he might be able to see my illness if he looks closely enough.
“I don’t know. Maybe the flu or some other virus.” He lays a hand against my forehead again, a flashlight washing over me. “Wake Jesse. And get Diana. We need to see if she can tell us what those plants look like. We’re going to need to bring Kate’s fever down. She’s burning up.”
The door squeaks as Max goes for Jesse.
“Kate?”
I ease my eyes open, another shiver breaking out over my aching body.
“We’re getting you something to help you feel better, okay?”
I answer by tightening my hold on his hand. “Stay with me. Stay here with me, Justin. Please.”
“Okay. I’m here.” He settles onto the bed, and I curl up against him. “Here,” he offers me the water. “Drink up. You need to take in as much fluid as you can.”
I slurp at the water, then push it away. I feel so weak, so tired. My head throbs a drumbeat in my skull, and
each breath rakes across my throat like hot coals. I don’t want to feel anymore. I want to sleep. I lower my lids. I couldn’t keep them open a minute longer anyhow.
Justin tucks Max’s sleeping bag up around me. I tremble beneath his touch.
“So c-c-cold,” I manage.
“I know. Hang in there. You’ll feel better soon.”
His warm hand leaves my head, and I long for him to put it back. To flood me with its warmth. I slip under the heavy folds of sleep, shaking all the while.
Only a matter of minutes passes, it seems. Someone kneels beside me, lifting me slightly. I wish they would let me be. I only want to sleep.
My eyes flutter open, and Justin’s face comes into view. He smiles. His teeth are black, his face contorted into some grotesque picture of his former self. I scream and shove him away. The others stand around me, wavering in and out of my vision like candlelight. Diana stands with them. Her body, her face takes on a slithering quality, elongated and curving abnormally out of its natural shape. I edge away from all of them, panic flooding me.
What is happening? Why are they doing this to me? Don’t they know how much they frighten me?
“Kate. Kate, hold on.” Justin has my wrists. Not Justin. The distorted semblance of the Justin I know. I squeal, pressing my back against the mattress. But it tries to swallow me, and I jerk up, knocking my head hard against Justin’s chin. His head swings in a wide, slow motion angle.
“Give me the tea. We’re going to have to force it down.”
Give me the tea. His voice is a sluggish, dragging. Why is he talking like this?
“Hold her!” Justin commands. And Jesse and Max monsters leer over me, grasping, holding. I scream again.
Something touches my lips. I clamp them shut.
“Kate, you have to drink this. Open your mouth.”
I shake my head furiously until someone grabs my jaw, holding me steady, forcing my mouth open. A small, bit of liquid reaches my tongue followed by a wave. I choke it down my burning throat.
“More Kate. You need to finish this cup.”
Justin’s voice drags still. Another wave of liquid fills my mouth, followed by another. I sputter at the minty bitterness, and I shove it away, but the monsters hold me, and the bitter water continuously floods my mouth, forcing me to swallow it until I think it might drown me.
“There. There you go. Okay, lie down.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, cover my ears, rolling into a tight ball away from the misshapen forms of the people I know, hoping the mattress doesn’t eat me. And I don’t dare look again.
Chapter 13
The room is silent when my mind finds consciousness. I hold still, afraid to move at first. I twitch my toes to test my pain level. I swallow once. The achiness continues to throb throughout my body, but my throat feels better. The shivering no longer controls me, either. Slowly I sit, and my head begins to spin. I clamp my hands against my temples until the dizziness subsides.
I’m still in the room where I found Max in the night. Tiny hints of sunlight steal into the shadows, giving enough illumination for seeing. The room is small, a bed and one table standing crooked in the corner the only furnishings.
I expect to see Diana sleeping beside me when I turn, but I don’t. Instead Justin, curled on his side with his back to me, lies in the bed. His shoulders move, rising and falling with his breathing. His presence is unexpected, and I wonder where Diana could be. I rub at my temples, try to remember the events of the previous night. I awoke thirstier than I’ve ever been, but this is all I can recall.
Careful so as not to wake Justin, I stand on shaky legs and sidle to the window. It’s small as well, and shattered—the frame barely holding the pane in place. Cool air seeps through the thin, spidery lines and tickles my arm.
Through the splintered glass, a straggler with a rolled blanket strapped to his back suddenly appears in my line of sight and saunters past the house. With a gasp, I shrink away, just enough to see him without detection. But he wouldn’t have seen me so easily. The ground is far below this window.
He continues down the street with a slow gait, and I watch him until he’s out if sight.
At the door, I hear voices floating up from the floor below. The others are beginning to wake. I don’t feel well. I know I should climb back into bed. I should try to sleep, allow my body to heal from whatever caused me to become so ill. But I hesitate.
From where I stand, I can see Justin’s face. In sleep, eyes closed, I notice for the first time how long his eyelashes are. They press against his cheeks, dark and thick. His lips part slightly, his breath puffing intermittently from between them. And for some reason I can’t define, climbing back into the bed where he lies causes my cheeks to fill with heat.
He wears a sleeveless shirt, and I spot the marking on his arm. It adorns his bicep. I cautiously step closer to peer down at it.
It resembles Ian’s with a slight difference in the design, a thick twin outline giving it the effect of a double-edged sword wrapped in barbed wire. It’s quite unique, and I reach a finger to trace it. Justin shifts suddenly, smacking his lips, and I withdraw my hand and retreat a step away from the bed.
He settles back into sleep, and I ease open the door ever so quietly and leave him.
I descend the stairs slowly, holding tightly to the railing for balance. My legs are so weak that if I didn’t know better, I would think I’d only finished running half a day without stopping. I hobble down one step at a time until I reach the bottom.
Max, Jesse, and Diana sit in a circle on top of a large, lumpy mattress covered in sleeping bags. They talk quietly, and they seem so natural—the three of them, together. The packs are hunched against a far wall. They eat something; I can’t tell what it is. I can’t remember when I last ate, but the thought of food does not sit well, and I force the idea of it out of my mind.
Diana spots me first and lumbers to her feet.
“Kate!” She takes my arm and helps me down the last three steps. “How’re you feeling?”
I swallow. “My throat hurts still.”
“I was coming up to check in on you shortly.” She smiles warmly, and it’s refreshing. I realize how much I’ve missed seeing it. “You look much better.”
“Truth,” Max adds with a nod. “You scared sleep right out of me when you crawled into my room last night.”
He smiles with a softness, and Jesse laughs.
“Yeah. Probably not the best idea. He uses that thing like it’s a part of his right arm.” Jesse indicates the closed pocketknife dangling from Max’s fingertips. “You don’t know how many times I’ve been cut for sneaking up on him. You got lucky, Kate.”
I smile weakly and address Diana.
“What made me sick?”
“Justin thinks you had a virus called the flu. Your fever was so high.”
Her eyes turn glassy, and I know she thinks of Tabitha and her own fever that sent her away. I squeeze her hand, and she clears and smiles again.
“We found the ingredients for the remedy,” she says with a hint of pride. “I was able to identify the plants.”
I smile at her enthusiasm. “And . . . it worked?”
“I suppose it did.” She presses her palm against my forehead. “No more fever. I’m surprised at how quickly the remedy worked.”
She leads me to the mattress, and I lower myself next to Jesse.
“What caused the fever?” I ask.
“An infection,” Jesse answers with a shrug. “The fever fights it. I’m sure glad you’re back, Kate,” he adds with a smile. “That other girl? Not fun.”
They all laugh.
“I thought I was dreaming,” I say absently.
“Hallucinating,” Max joins in. “High fever. Too high, Justin said. But that herbal tea stuff helped.”
“Hopefully, you’ll be better in another day or so,” Diana squeezes my arm softly.
“Hopefully?” Dread flirts on the edge of my question, and I think of Tabitha
so near death.
“You’ll be fine.”
We all turn at the voice to see Justin standing at the bottom of the staircase. Arms crossed, he leans against the railing, a crooked smile sketched across his lips. He moves to the edge of the mattress to look down at me.
“Will I?”
“Yes.” His answer is full of a sure promise. “The worst has passed. A couple of days, and we can get back on the road.”
A couple of days? Diana’s shoulders sag. I place a hand over hers where it still sits on my arm.
“I’m sorry. I know my illness has slowed us.”
She shakes her head, taking up my hand. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t purposely become ill. How could I blame you?”
“This virus?” My eyes search Justin. “Will anyone else become ill with it?”
“The only other person who can is Diana.” He looks at her. “You’ve already been exposed, so if you’re going to get sick, there’s no stopping it.”
“I feel much better,” I offer. “Perhaps we could travel some today?”
But Justin shakes his head. “You need at least one more day to recover. You’re too weak.” He offers his hand. “Let’s get you back to bed. The more rest the better.”
I take his hand without argument and allow him to steer me toward the stairs.
“I’ll bring you something to eat in a bit,” Diana offers.
“Thank you.”
My trip to the first floor has tired me out, and fatigue overtakes me before we’ve climbed halfway. Without a thought, Justin stoops, swoops me into his arms, and bounds up the last of the stairs.
Tucked safely into the sleeping bag, I begin to feel the tendrils of exhaustion creeping in.