Separation

“You are suspicious, and perhaps a little scared. This is no bad thing, and perhaps in your position I would feel the same. But, truly, you have nothing to fear. You are among your own people now, and need no longer talk of those who would wish to keep you alive for your own benefit. They have been dealt with.”

Mildred felt a lurch of panic deep in her guts. “Dealt with…What do you mean?”

The woman shrugged. “I mean what I say. Markos’s patrol found you before they were about to chill you as the wolf chills the rabbit. You had all been washed ashore, and they had carried you with them until such time as they were ready to do as their will. Fortunately, we were able to prevent your chilling and bring you back to the fold like the stray that seeks shelter.”

Mildred hoisted herself up into a sitting position, the pain in her ribs and the intensity of her headache drowned in the wave of panic and concern that threatened to engulf her.

“Let’s back up here for a minute, lady,” she began, trying to keep calm and to keep her voice level. “When I asked you about my friends, I meant the people I was traveling with. The last thing I remember was being in the raft and…Shit, some kind of big mutie fish turning the damn thing over. We were tied to the raft, but the rope must have broken.” She shook her head gently, as if to clear it, being careful not to aggravate her headache. “I don’t know anything about anyone trying to chill me when I was out, but the people I was with were friends, and whatever this Markos thinks he saw, they were trying to help me, okay? Anyway,” she added almost as an afterthought, “who is this guy Markos?”

A strange expression crossed the woman’s face. It was hard to work out exactly what was running through her mind at that point, but the question seemed to stir up a greater answer than she was prepared to give.

She contented herself with saying, “He is our chief of security and law. Answerable only to my father or myself. He was told of a sighting of boats at sea, falling prey to the sea devils and the turning of the tides. It was observed that the boats were washed ashore and that the ones with the shining skin carried a sister into the woods, with an albino in their wake—”

“That’ll be Jak,” Mildred affirmed.

“Another slave like yourself,” she said, continuing before Mildred had a chance to interject. “You were lost to view, and the darkness was falling. It is easy for our security to move after dark, for the beasts are quiet and they know the island well. Markos decided that they would look for you then. And so they found you, and overpowered your oppressors with ease, bringing you here to recover.”

“And where the hell are they?”

“They are safe.” The woman shrugged. “Markos has imprisoned them awaiting their trial.” She was silent for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, before she spoke again. “Strange that you should call them friends, as that is just what the albino said, choosing to be imprisoned with them.”

“Yeah, and I’ll tell you what, lady,” Mildred said coldly, ignoring the pain in her head, “you can lock me up there with them. Because they’re not my captors, you are.”

The woman looked genuinely perplexed at this. “I do not understand. We are your brothers and sisters. We do not seek to oppress you, only to bring you to us in the spirit of harmony.”

“Harmony be damned,” Mildred snapped. “I think there’s a few things we need to get straight. It’s like I said—the people I landed with are my friends. We’ve been through more shit than you’re ever likely to see on this island, isolated from anywhere. You say they were trying to kill me? How?” she demanded.

“Markos and the others saw the red-haired woman try to inject you with a needle as you lay unconscious,” the fine-boned woman replied, although in a tone that suggested she was confused and unsure when confronted with Mildred’s authoritative tone.

Mildred frowned, her mind racing. Krysty trying to inject her? Why would she do that? Her keen doctor’s brain, sharpened by the need to focus, raced through the possibilities.

“Where did the needle come from? Inside the jacket I was wearing?”

“You were wearing no jacket. Markos told me it came from a jacket that was full of pills, bandages and other needles.”

“I hope to hell that you haven’t done anything to that jacket or what was in it,” Mildred said in low voice. “I need those medical supplies.”

“You are a medicine woman?”

It was Mildred’s turn for an enigmatic expression to cross her face. “I guess you could say that. Yeah, I guess you could. I was the medicine woman for the group. I taught Krysty—the redhead—to give that injection in extreme circumstances. Guess they must have been worried, and I must’ve been out for a long time.”

“But how can that be? They treat you as an equal?”

Mildred furrowed her brow. “Yeah, why shouldn’t they?”

“Because it has never been that way. That is why we are here. That is how we came to be here. And why we continue to be here.”

Mildred sank back onto the bed. It seemed to her that there were two different stories being played out, and until both she and her benefactor—why not call her that?—knew each other and understood their circumstances, they couldn’t understand each other and would continue to go in circles. If the others were imprisoned, at least they were alive and safe. Rather than try to rush matters, it would be as well to take the time to attempt to explain and understand. For this woman who sat by her feet seemed to hold high position in this ville.

“Look,” Mildred began, “this is ridiculous. How about we play a little game of truth or dare? Give me some of that water, and I’ll tell you about myself and the people I travel with, and then you can tell me about where the hell I am and who you are. At least that way we may start to understand each other. Sound reasonable?”

The fine-boned woman nodded. Filling the wooden cup and handing it to Mildred as she propped herself on one elbow to drink, the woman said, “Your language is coarse and strange in some ways. It lacks the manner of our ways, and so is sometimes hard to grasp. It seems like the promise of rain on the breeze after a drought. It offers a release, and yet frustrates by being forever just out of reach. And yet you speak sense. Tell me of yourself, and then I will endeavor to reveal to you the history of myself and my land.”

Mildred handed her the cup and began to speak. She told the woman her name and about her meeting with the companions—omitting the fact that she was a freezie, as this would only complicate matters unnecessarily—before detailing some of the things they had been through together. She talked of Ryan, J.B., Doc, Krysty, Jak and Dean as individuals, so that the woman would get a fuller picture of the people she traveled with. She told the woman about herself, and what she felt for her companions. And she told her how they had found themselves on the peninsula—changing the mat-trans for a smashed boat to simplify matters and stall unnecessary questions—before deciding to explore the island.