The Island (15 page)

Everyone except herself.

Less than an hour later, Tom tapped quietly at the door and slipped inside. He surveyed the room, taking in the bodies laid carefully on the floor, tied at wrists and ankles, gags in each mouth. Sarah looked up from where she was finishing the last knot on Jim’s wrists.

“I think these will hold.” Sarah tugged at the ends of the twine. Then she stood, took a glass from the table. “This one’s mine. You know what to do?”

Tom nodded. “I hope this works.”

Sarah swallowed the wine. “It has to work.” She sat down on the floor next to Jim. “Make it tight.” She handed the last of the twine to Tom. “And don’t forget the gag.”

I
t had been a long night. Polly had wakened twice, crying for Hannah. Annie had gone to her each time and tried to comfort her, telling her they would see Hannah soon. Doug slept through it all.

Annie knew his sleeping didn’t mean he didn’t care. She knew he was as worried about their daughter as she was. As she should have been all this time. To think she’d believed being named Honoree was a great tribute. Doug had known better. He’d wanted to stop her from going, wanted to kill someone, he’d said later. But there was nothing anyone could do. Hannah had gone willingly. At least, it had seemed that way.

Tom had sat the two of them down later and shared his fears. He’d hinted that something was planned, something that might make a difference for the whole community, might even save Hannah. But he’d refused to tell them what. He said it was too dangerous—that if they knew it could put them at risk. Doug had insisted on going right then to the office, to get Hannah back. Annie had gone with him, of course, but they’d been turned away like beggars at a bank entrance.

Now, they would finally see her. Family and friends always did, the morning of Celebration. Filina and her cronies couldn’t stop them this time, like they had yesterday. Annie tried not to think about the fact that this might be the
last
time they saw Hannah. She busied herself with breakfast, hoping that Doug was having an easy time getting Polly ready to go.

They hurried through the eggs she’d made, the three of them uncharacteristically somber. Polly just picked at her food, and Annie couldn’t blame her.

“Will Hannah come home with us?” Polly’s eyes were puffy from her troubled night.

Annie and Doug exchanged a look.

“We’ll just have to see, Polly.”

It was still early morning, and though the platform and the assembly area were ready for Celebration, few people were around. Annie stared at the platform as they passed it on their way to the office. Celebration had seemed festive to her before, with decorations and mementos symbolizing the year’s Honoree, funny stories about them, plenty of food and drink. There were no lessons for the children during Celebration, and the adults ceased their daily labor, too. She’d always been aware of the sadness of the Honoree’s family, but she’d pushed that to the back of her mind before. She cringed when she remembered how she’d congratulated Sarah last year about her father, Keith.

Tom waited for them outside the office. Annie thought he looked even worse than he had the day before. She’d told him to come stay with them in their unit, but he’d wanted to stay in his and Hannah’s. “Her things are all still there,” he’d said.

None of them spoke. Tom waited until they got close and then he turned and knocked on the door. For the longest moment Annie thought it might not open, but finally it did. David held it wide, beckoning them inside.

“She’s ready to see you.” David started to say more, but Tom brushed past him, none too gently.

Annie, Doug, and Polly followed. Inside, the long table where important meetings were held was lined with empty chairs. At the far end, Hannah sat, looking calm and beautiful. Her hair had been carefully braided and she was wearing a new shirt. Annie couldn’t see if she had new pants as well, but she imagined she did. She wondered what had happened to Hannah’s other clothes.

“Hannah.” Tom rushed to her side. He knelt next to her and took her hand in his. “Are you all right?”

Hannah looked at Tom, a slight smile on her face. She looked down then, at her hand in his, and gently removed it, placing it on her lap. “I’m . . . fine, thank you.”

Tom stared into her face. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I knew it.”

Annie hurried to Hannah’s other side. She was whispering something—it sounded like a prayer of some sort. She looked at her daughter, but the eyes that returned her gaze were blank. “What’s going on here?” Annie turned on David, who had followed the family to Hannah’s side. “What have you done to her?”

David stood looking down at her, implacable. “It’s fine, Annie.” He shook his head at her as though she were being unreasonable. “They always get a little something to make this part easier. She’s just sedated.”

“We’re taking her home.” Doug’s voice was low, but he had a look on his face Annie had never seen before. He pushed past David toward where Hannah was sitting.

“Doug.” Something in the way David said his name made Doug turn. “You aren’t taking her anywhere. She’s the Honoree. And they,” David point toward the front of the office, where several men—men Doug knew, had known all his life—had appeared, “will make sure of it.”

Doug shook his head. “Ed.” He addressed the closest of the men. “Ed, you know me. You know my family. We’ve worked together to make this place what it is today. Help me get my daughter home.”

Ed shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not meeting Doug’s gaze at first. When he finally did look at him, he could only shrug. “You know how this works, Doug. According to him,” Ed nodded toward David, “if we don’t do this they’ll come for us all.”

Doug stared past him at the others. They all looked uncomfortable, maybe even ashamed, but none of them volunteered to help. He turned his back on them and spoke quietly to Tom. “We can take them, maybe. We can get Hannah home.”

But Tom remained slumped at Hannah’s side. “She’s not even Hannah, anymore.” He choked the words out past his tears. “You don’t understand—”

“Is that your doll?” Hannah seemed oblivious to what was happening in the room. She was talking to Polly, who had crept near and was holding her driftwood doll up to her sister.

“Yes.” Polly gravely handed it to Hannah. “I want you to keep her.”

Hannah took the doll, admiring the carving on the face. She handed it back to Polly. “It’s beautiful. But I can’t take your doll, little girl.” She tilted her head at Polly. “What’s your name?”

Annie began to sob.

“Listen.” David stepped closer to Doug. “Just enjoy this time. Don’t cause any trouble. You only have a few hours before we move her.”

Doug raised a fist, stopping it just short of David’s jaw. Shaking, he forced his arm back to his side. His face ashen, he slid a chair out from the table and sat down close to Hannah. Annie reached for him, and he took her hands in his.

David watched for a moment, then backed away. As he passed the other men on his way out of the room, he avoided their eyes. He was certain they avoided his, too.

“Everyone ready for this?” Daniel surveyed the group. They’d all gathered outside the units to go to Celebration. Even Nipper seemed on edge. “Do you all have the pads where you can reach them easily?” Each person nodded.

“I think we’re ready as we’ll ever be.” Malgam eyed Rachel. “Are
you
ready?”

Rachel shrugged. She could see the crowd already gathered in front of the platform off in the middle of the cavern. “Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

“You don’t have to do this, Rachel.” Vivian put a hand on Rachel’s shoulder. “We can think of some other plan.”

Rachel smiled at her. “No, we can’t. Besides, this will work.” She tried hard to look like she believed it.

“Remember, don’t do anything until Filina’s said something incriminating,” Nandy cautioned. “Otherwise it’s our word against hers. She’s got too much power for us to win that battle.”

They started toward the platform. Pathik hung back with Rachel, letting the others walk ahead of them.

“She’s right, you know.” He gave Rachel a sidelong look.

“Who?”

“Your mother. You don’t have to do this.” Pathik lowered his voice. “Especially the part they don’t know about.”

Rachel kept walking, but she held out her hand to him. After a moment, he shook his head and took it. They walked behind the others to where the crowd was gathered in silence.

“Look at that.” Nandy sounded disturbed. She pointed at the platform, which had been decorated with hand-woven ribbon. There were what looked like stations of some sort set up in front of it. At each station, a person sat on a stool, talking. As they neared the first one, Rachel recognized the girl she’d seen sharpening knives, the one Hannah had waved at and called dramatic. The girl was speaking to a few people who stood in front of her station, telling a story. As they drew closer, Rachel realized it was a story about Hannah.

“—and she was always trying to get out of gathering clams.” The girl smiled, remembering something fondly. “She would make Tom do all the work and she would just look for sea glass.” Her audience chuckled, nodding to each other knowingly.

“Look at
that
.” Pathik nodded toward the platform. On it, to one side, was a sketch of Hannah. It was a good likeness, done with charcoal on the back of an old board, held aloft in a makeshift easel lashed together with twine. A bowl filled with sea glass sat beneath it.

“Creepy.” Malgam frowned. “Like a funeral of some sort.”

“More like a fair of some sort, in other ways.” Nandy watched as a small group of children ran through the crowd, playing tag. “Lots of food, lots of socializing going on.”

“Here we go.” Daniel stopped walking. The others stopped, too and looked in the direction he indicated. Filina was making her way across the platform to where the sketch of Hannah was, watching the crowd as she walked. She moved slowly, with a stately manner. When she’d reached the sketch, she stood next to it, waiting for the crowd to quiet.

It didn’t take long. Once all was silent, Filina put a hand on the top of the board, inspecting the sketch with interest.

“A wonderful rendering of our Honoree.” Filina spoke with pride. “Let us thank Ronnel, the artist responsible for this year’s portrait. It will hang with pride of place in Hannah’s parents’ home.” She waited for the applause from the crowd to dwindle. “Please enjoy the refreshments prepared for you all, and thank those who labored over them. And do stop to hear Hannah’s remembrances, told by her friends and loved ones.” Filina paused, her expression growing serious. “Let us never forget the sacrifice our Honorees make. They willingly give so much in order that we may be spared. Let us always—”

“Willingly?” Rachel shouted the question at the top of her lungs. Daniel, Malgam, and Pathik moved to form a protective wall behind her, while Vivian and Nandy stood in front of her.

Filina glared down at her. The crowd began to murmur, low waves of sound passing from one group to another.

“They don’t go
willingly
, do they, Filina?” Rachel shouted again.

Filina strode to the edge of the platform and stared. Rachel could feel it—the spidery touch of Filina’s mind, trying to gain entry, trying to control her. She fought to focus, pushing it away. She turned toward the crowd. “You’ve all been told a lie! You’ve been told lies for years!”

The noise from the crowd increased. People began to talk—Rachel could hear snippets of questions, comments.
What does she mean? You know, I heard—. That’s what Tom said!
As soon as she let her focus go to them, she felt Filina’s touch again, a fog, lurking at the edge of her consciousness. She fought it off hard, staring back up at Filina. She could tell she was winning by the look of frustration on her face.

Suddenly, the fog vanished. Rachel saw Filina search the crowd, seeking a certain face. “She’s looking for Sarah!” Nandy shouted to Rachel, warning her.

Rachel watched as Filina failed to locate Sarah, who could amp her talent and allow her to overcome Rachel’s resistance. Sarah had said she would do this. She’d said Filina would seek all the amps, all the dozers. That’s why she wasn’t here to help, why she’d made certain none of them were here. If all had gone as planned, they were slumbering, drugged beyond Filina’s reach.

Rachel watched fury streak across Filina’s face as she realized she couldn’t find them. But there was no time for jubilance yet. She turned back to the crowd and shouted.

“Listen! Listen to me! Filina’s controlling you all! She’s made you believe what she wants you to believe! None of the Honorees went willingly! We know the government! You do too, don’t you? The same government that left your people here to die?” She watched their faces, watched them show their fear, their disbelief, their shock. But Filina wasn’t admitting anything. Rachel turned to face her. “Tell them Filina. Tell them the truth. Tell them why their Honorees go. And better yet, tell them why they never come back!”

“Why
don’t
any of them ever come back?” A voice in the crowd shouted the question. “It’s supposed to be a year. A
one
year study. But none of them ever come back.”

“My Melissa didn’t want to go! I know she didn’t!” A woman sobbed the words.

Rachel watched Filina. She could feel her attempts to control her, but it seemed easier each time to resist. Filina was enraged, her skin mottled white and red, her mouth a grimacing slash in her face. She screamed, a shriek that sprayed spittle on Rachel and silenced the crowd. “Where’s Sarah? Where are the rest?”

“They won’t be helping you today.” Rachel spat the words at the woman. Then she smiled up at her.

That was what it took. “Do you think I need
them
to shut you up?” Filina sneered at Rachel. “Who are you people to come here and judge me? I’ve saved this place! I’ve made it possible for us to keep on living!” She narrowed her eyes. “Anyone with a knife can be made to stop the likes of you!” She turned her glare on Daniel.