Page 35 of Blue Arrow Island
She laughs scornfully. “Back to being beaten and raped every day? No, I don’t think about it.”
I should have realized Rona—or actually, everyone—sees life here through a lens of what their lives were like before. I hated every minute of my life locked away in Lochlan’s gated estate, but I was safe. Well, safe from everyone but him. I was well fed. I could take showers and read books.
Most people don’t have such comfortable everyday lives in the post-virus world. And though I dreamed of escaping his home and returning to scraping by in the shadows, not everyone wants that kind of life.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I say.
“It happened to everyone. Women and men. I got sent here for grabbing a guard’s gun and shooting him in the leg with it, and you know what? It’s the best thing that’s happened to me since the virus came. Rape isn’t allowed, and now I can fight and defend myself.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “That makes total sense.”
We sit in silence for a minute before she says, “Do you know why Olin doesn’t talk?”
“No.”
“Because he can’t. He’s been here for like two years and he’s still a one. Probably always will be, because he wouldn’t stop asking questions about this place. Pax cut his tongue out for it. The only thing saving you from that is that you’re pretty and Pax wants to fuck you. That won’t keep you safe forever.”
A horrified chill runs through me. Poor Olin.
“Don’t bring up conversations like this with me again,” Rona says. “And if you want to live, don’t bring them up with anyone else, either.”
I respond automatically, my mind still stuck on the image of Pax cutting off Olin’s tongue. I didn’t want to think he was capable of something like that, but that was naive of me. I know better. Those in power don’t use it to make things better for everyone. They use it to make things better for themselves.
“I understand. Thank you for looking out for me.”
She doesn’t respond. I sit down and let my head rest against the concrete wall, feeling more alone than ever as I listen to rainfall beating on the roof.
The next day, a four knocks on our door and tells us everyone is meeting up in the dining shelter.
It’s still raining when I step onto the walkway, but the wind has died down. Beside me, Rona sighs heavily.
“Kitchen’s got to be trashed.”
The camp is still flooded, the buildings across from ours standing in a few inches of water. A tree fell onto one of the buildings, its roof mostly gone. Branches, boards, clothes, and other debris are scattered in the water over the dirt path, drifting lazily.
We follow the line of people from the housing block to the shelter, everyone quiet as we wade through ankle-deep water.
The concrete housing blocks are intact, but pretty much everything else is destroyed. The kitchen is missing most of its roof and one wall. The meat prep area is gone, as are the body parts that were on the table.
A few of the picnic-style tables from the dining area are in the kitchen now, one of them upside down and others scattered in pieces. It looks like Mother Nature reached a mighty hand down from the sky and twisted everything into a mangled heap.
More than a hundred people huddle into the shelter. Pax and Virginia stand on tall wooden boxes that are usually used for jumping over during training, Pax putting his hands out to quiet the talking.
“Our camp sustained a lot of damage from the hurricane,” Virginia says. “Does anyone know of anyone who’s missing?”
I scan the crowd, finding Olin and Billy. When my eyes land on Marcelle, she scowls back at me. I guess we’re both disappointed to see that the other survived, then.
There are murmurs, but no one mentions any missing people.
“Good,” Virginia continues. “We weren’t expecting this storm, and there’s a lot of cleanup to do. We’re starting now. Pax will post a list with work assignments here in the dining area. We know there’s flooding in the main-level housing, so upper-level people, you’ll be getting some temporary roommates.”
Our room is already tight, but at least it’s just temporary.
“I see this as an opportunity,” Virginia says. “You know what I’m always saying about training for field conditions. We have to be prepared for anything. Food will be very limited while we rebuild. As always, we prioritize the children and the pregnant women. The two of us get the same rations all of you do. I know it’s tough, but so are we.”
There’s a low rumble of voices that seems to be split between frustration and agreement.
Pax takes over.
