Amy Cross - Persona

He frowns. “Role?”

“If you have any particular skills or—”

He shakes his head.

“Nothing?”

“It’s hard to say,” he replies. His eyes are still fixed on me, almost as if he’s daring me to be the one who looks away first. “I’m sure I can contribute in some way.”

“There’s one more thing you should know,” I tell him. “We accept all new arrivals who want to join us, but we ask that you turn over your canopies so they can be used for the good of the community.”

“And why should we do that?” Ben asks.

I turn to him, glad of the chance to finally stop looking at Harold. I know he’s still watching me , though.

“Here,” Leanne says, hurriedly placing her canopy on the ground in front of me. She offers a faint, nervous smile, as if she’s worried she might do something wrong.

“It’s a gesture of goodwill,” I tell Ben, as Harold comes over and tosses his canopy at my feet. “It’s a sign that you’re willing to contribute. The canopies are used for bedding, clothing, shelter, that sort of thing. We have people who know how to make the most of them.”

“Do I get to keep my knife?” he asks skeptically. “I refuse to give that up, I don’t care how much you want us to share everything!”

“You get to keep your knife,” I reply, although by this point I’m actually hoping he’ll decide not to stay. He seems like nothing but trouble, and I feel a flash of disappointment when he finally tosses his canopy down onto the pile.

“So all three of you arrived together, huh?” I continue, turning to Harold and then to Leanne. “How are things out there in the rest of the world? Have there been any major changes over the past few years?”

“More bombings,” she replies, with tears in her eyes. “More soldiers on the streets. They say it’s going to get better some day, but…”

Her voice trails off.

“Every time someone appears to tell us how the situation is improving,” she continues, “it’s a sign that things are about to get worse. The war…”

“What about the war?” I ask, bristling a little at the word.

“It’s still going on,” she replies.

“Obviously, but… Is there any more news?”

“They say we’re going to make a big breakthrough soon,” she tells me, her voice trembling as if she’s on the verge of tears. “They say one more big push is all we need.”

“They’ve been saying that for years,” Ben mutters darkly. “Everyone knows it’s not true. People live in misery and squalor, but they can’t change a damn thing. It’s all because of the war, or at least that’s what they tell us. We’re in it together and we all have to make sacrifices. It’s just the same empty speeches over and over. That’s why I got sick of it and came to the island. I’d rather die free than live in chains.”

“What about you?” I ask, turning to Leanne. “Why did you come here?”

“My husband and our son were…” She takes a deep breath, as if she’s on the verge of breaking down. “They were caught up in a bomb attack at the local market. They didn’t… I mean, they… They died, and then there was just me, and I kind of lost it for a while. I built up a lot of points on my record, mostly minor things like public disorder and hitting people, but I knew I’d die if I went to the mines. I’d heard so much about the island, I figured I should at least see it before I die.” She pauses. “I heard 95% of people who come here die within their first day.”

“That figure’s a little better for the ones who join us here,” Deckard tells her. “There’s strength in numbers, and we work hard to keep the place clean and disease-free.”

“You’ve done so much,” she replies, her voice almost cracking with fear. She’s the most skittish person I’ve ever met in my life, and certainly more timid than anyone else here in Steadfall. It’s honestly hard to believe that someone like her would choose to come to the island. “It’s hard to believe you started with nothing.”

“And what’s it like being a dictator?” Ben asks, eying me with suspicion. “Why do people tolerate something like that? Don’t those poor souls out there want a democracy in this town?”

“They want to feel safe,” Deckard tells him. “They’re safe here.”

“Funny,” Ben mutters, “that’s almost the argument the government uses to make people support the war.”

“It’s my town,” I add, trying not to let it show that this Ben guy is really irritating me. “Stay or don’t stay, but if you decide to stick around, at least be aware of how things work. You can’t just walk in here and start causing trouble.”

“Asking questions is causing trouble?”

“You know what I mean!”

He smiles, as if he finds my frustration amusing. “You sound like them,” he tells me.

“Like who?”

“Like the community managers who lecture people about the war.”

“I’m nothing like that,” I reply. “Like I said earlier, you’re free to leave if you don’t like how we run this town.”

He mutters something under his breath. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s got a problem with me, however, I notice that Harold has wandered out of the hut. I head over to the door and look out, only to see that he’s helping one of the women as she tries to clean some tunics. To my surprise, he actually seems to know what he’s doing, and I watch as he takes the soaked tunic.

“If you do it like this,” he explains to her, turning the bowl of stones around, “and go slower, you’ll get much more of the dirt out. Also, if you add some grass to the water, the enzymes should improve the overall reach.” He hesitates when he notices that I’m watching him. “I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I didn’t mean to interfere, I just thought I could help a little. I was a doctor before I came to the island, and I…” He pauses. “Well, I just saw an opportunity to improve something. I hope I didn’t step on any toes.”

“That’s great,” I reply, forcing a smile. “It’s exactly what we need.”

He goes back to helping the woman, and I watch for a few seconds longer before turning to see that Deckard is explaining some more basics of the town to Ben and Leanne. Ben seems edgy and irritable, while Leanne is like a timid little mouse, shivering with fear. Glancing back over at Harold, however, I can’t help feeling that he might be far more useful. He seems intense, but he’s clearly smart, and I watch for a few seconds as he helps another woman who’s struggling to skin a rabbit. Pretty quickly, he shows her a new technique that she seems to already be picking up and—

Suddenly a scream rings out nearby. A ragged, agonized cry of pain from the forest.

“And another thing,” Della continues, her voice echoing through my head, “you don’t even know what you’ll do if you find this place. Are you going to say hi to these people? Are you going to tell them about Steadfall? That might not be a good idea. They might not be so friendly.”

“I’ll decide when I get there,” I reply, before realizing that I’ve fallen into the same old trap again. Every time I lose my focus, I end up talking to my dead sister. This is something that has been happening more and more lately, and I need to get my thoughts under control.

Taking a pause next to a tree, I try to refocus my mind. I can feel Della’s voice nagging at the edge of my consciousness, wanting to burst back in so we can continue the conversation, but I need to keep her out at all costs. It’s one thing to chat away to your dead sister all day whenever you think she might be useful, but it’s another thing entirely if you can’t stop hearing her voice. I started talking to her back at Steadfall because she was the only person who could hear my replies, but now I think I’ve taken the whole thing too far.