By the time we get to the coastguard station, the only physical reminder of falling from the fence last night is a sensation of thinness that stretches through my muscles. Much worse is the gnawing guilt over what Pat’s mum said.
I clench my fists until the nails bite into the palms. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Things were supposed to be better after we got off the Arcadia, but now we’re all haunted by it. It sits sideways in the water, and I’ve tried to shake the memory of her, but the moment I rest or close my eyes, or stop moving for even a second, it all floods back.
Her face is pale with shock. Dark waves all around. Metallic smoke. We have to go …
I’m trying to loosen her grip, and I’m drawn to the thought of the little white envelope I keep wrapped in my spare pair of socks and stuffed into the bottom of my med bag. The two blue pills that I’d find if I opened it.
I squeeze my eyes closed, and when I open them again I force myself to scan the horizon for signs of Coalies instead of dwelling on the Arcadia. I’ve no idea if they’d come by land or ocean. Across the water, the sun is insipid through the milky morning haze. Almost the entire population of the camp lives in the southern area, where they huddle in the shelter provided by the warehouses. Corp and I live here, in this abandoned coastguard station, halfway between the buildings of the main camp and the territory that Silas Cuinn has claimed. Forced to live in isolation because it’s too dangerous for us to live with the others.
Silver lining – I can barely see the ship from here. Having it loom over me was a constant reminder of what I did, so when General Lall ordered us out of the main camp I wasn’t entirely sorry. At least out here there are moments when I can ease the guilt by pretending the wreck doesn’t exist.
Pat kicks his boots against the bottom rung of the ladder, showering sand, and starts to climb. For a second, he disappears, then his head peeks back over the top.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, ignoring the hand he stretches down to help me. I instantly regret my tone.
‘Esther,’ he chides.
I reach to him and let him pull me up, feeling the strength and roughness of his hand.
Pat goes inside. I hear the creak-slam of the station house’s front door. Even after two months here, I can’t bear to call this place home. It’s always the coastguard station, or just the place.
At the top of the ladder, I pause to listen to the soothing crash of the waves nearby. It’s a strange building made of bleached planks the colour of weathered bone. The back portion of the building was built right into the sand dunes; the front sits out over the water on stilts as thick as tree trunks. It straddles a wide ramp that leads down to the ocean – a relic that would once have launched coastguard boats in an emergency. When we arrived, some of the walls were so decayed we had to tack tarps over the gaps to make it weatherproof. It still shakes and howls with the wind.
Inside, Pat has already hung his jacket by the front door and left his boots neatly on the shoe rack, a sparse layer of sand covering the wooden floorboards. This is an equipment room, full of the old clothes that were left behind when it was abandoned. It’s all so antiquated none of it can be used. Hundred-year-old jackets hang like ghosts on the walls, grey with dust and cobwebs. There’s a pile of boots in one corner, an orange float attached to a rope, a first-aid kit, empty apart from the wrapper of a long-ago-used plaster.
I take the rickety stairs up and cross the landing to the kitchen-lounge-dining area. You can imagine the coastguards making their dinner up here, watching the ocean for signs of trouble out of the windows at the front. Down the corridor there’s a bunk room and a shower room where the only running water is chunky and brown. There’s nowhere to put a clinic, and no resources even if we did have the space, so we do rounds of the camp every day and treat patients wherever they lie.
Corp’s standing by the camping stove that’s our only source of heat, and the hollow smell of gas tells me she’s just boiled the water. There’s a cup of tea going cold on the counter next to her, and I get the feeling she’s been staring out of that window a good long time.
‘You decided to come back,’ Corp says finally, turning. ‘I take it you’ve been at the fence again.’
Without thinking, I stand to attention and sense Pat straighten next to me. A throwback to my time on the Arcadia when Corp gave the orders. I never got out of the habit.
‘I ordered him to help me,’ I say.
‘You don’t have any business ordering anyone to do anything,’ Corp snaps back.
‘She did not,’ Pat says.
‘Let me handle this,’ I say.
‘I don’t take orders. In fact, I persuaded her to go. Esther said it was getting too dangerous after we set the alarm off last time. But I’d finished the gear I was working on, and I wanted to try it out.’
‘I don’t care whose idea it was. I gave you clear instructions to stay home.’
‘This again,’ I mutter.
‘Watch your tone, cadet.’
Corp’s face is rigid and, despite the fact that we’re a million miles and half a year from the training room on the Arcadia, my heart thumps with anxiety. I could never handle being given demerits by Corp.
‘Or what? You’ll stop me treating people with the medical supplies the Federated States don’t give us? Rescind my access to the state-of-the-art medical facility we haven’t got?’
‘We do what we can,’ she says, smooth, quiet. Chilling. ‘Trust that General Lall will tell us when it’s time to take action.’
I clench my teeth and drop my eyes. Corp looks out of the window.
‘Did they answer last night?’ I say.
Corp sighs. Her expression softens, and I know she’s going to deliver bad news. ‘I tried every frequency used by the rebellion. No reply.’
Every night, I get my hopes up; every morning, my heart sinks a little deeper.
‘We have to consider whether there’s anyone left out there to hear the transmissions,’ Pat says quietly.
Corp catches my eye. I know all three of us are thinking the same thing. What happened on the Arcadia changed everything. While Nik worked on rebuilding the ship’s engine, his counterparts on the other stranded ships were doing the exact same. But once we started the Arcadia’s engine the gig was up. Pretty soon the Coalies realized if it could happen on the Arcadia it could happen on any of the ships still anchored along their coastline. Within months, every ship that could start its engine made a break for it. Each night, we listened to the old radio Corp had found in the coastguard station. Celebrating when ships made it to open waters. Crying on the day the radio suddenly went quiet.
If the radio is silent, it could mean all the ships are gone. Maybe they’ve left us behind. Maybe they’re all dead. My heart breaks thinking about either.
Corp clears her throat. ‘General Lall persuaded the other ships to come back for us. As soon as they arrive, we’ll have enough firepower to mount a coordinated uprising. Until then, any risky behaviour threatens the course of action we’ve worked hard to outline.’ She looks pointedly at me. ‘And, if you need it spelling out, that includes breaching the fence, being caught on Coaly surveillance feeds in the Pit, or asking questions about missing family that might flag you as a wanted person.’
At the mention of looking for my family, I feel my hackles rise in rebellion. ‘It’s taking too long. What if the other ships don’t get here in time? The Coalies could decide to attack us at any moment, and General Lall’s got us here twiddling our thumbs. She should be happy we’re out there, looking for ways to escape.’ My voice creaks with emotion.
‘Our orders are to wait. General Lall is coordinating the arrival of the reinforcements and then –’
‘How long do we carry on doing nothing?’
‘General Lall would have informed us of any change to the plan. We keep trying to contact the other ships. We wait for orders. Nothing’s changed.’
‘It’s been two months.’
Corp takes a step forward and squeezes my shoulders. ‘As long as there are sick people in this camp, we’ll carry on treating them. Hold your nerve, cadet. Our best chance of escape is waiting for the others to get here. Understand?’
‘We’re losing people that we shouldn’t be losing. Are you happy watching them die?’
‘Take it easy,’ Pat says.
I bite my tongue, and the silence thickens like soup.
Pat folds his arms. ‘Esther got electrocuted.’
I snap my head round to look at him. ‘Not helpful, Pat.’
‘You might have concussion.’
‘Did she fall?’ Corp asks, then she’s standing close to me again and looking too deep into my eyes.
Nobody here looks at each other too closely any more. It’s too painful to see other people wasting away, too humiliating to know they see it in us too. Instead, we skim the surface. Keep each other at arm’s length.
She runs her hands over my skull, presses her fingers to the cervical vertebrae at the top of my spine. ‘That’s just great, Esther. Because what’s going to help is if there’s one less medic in the camp. Pat, you’re off duty for the rest of the day as punishment. Go to bed.’
He looks like he’s about to argue, then shakes his head and marches out of the room. I hear him slam the door to the bunk room down the corridor.
‘Go and collect our rations. And consider this an order: wait until John has left before you go to the handover site. Do not accidentally bump into him. Do not go to the Pit. Do not make enquiries about your parents. It will attract attention, and we can’t afford for any of us to be arrested. This is your final warning, cadet. Disobey me again and I’ll take your med bag and ask you to leave this facility.’
‘You’ll throw me out?’
‘Without hesitation. You can stay in one of the warehouses with the other civilians. Perhaps you’ll learn to be a little more appreciative of the things we’ve got.’
‘Appreciative –’
‘We have more than most people here.’
‘And Lall is expecting us to keep this entire camp of malnourished people alive with a few multivitamins and wishful thinking. What is she doing exactly? Has she had any contact with the other ships? Because from what I’ve seen she’s happy to sit in her warm headquarters, flying in and out on her helicopter and having endless chats with the Coalies.’
Corp takes the cup of tea from the counter and throws it in the sink. Liquid glugs down the plughole. ‘The reason we’re here and not in headquarters is that we’re a security risk to ourselves and to the rebellion. Obviously, General Lall can’t let either of us have information that we might pass to the Coalies if we’re arrested. We’ve got to trust that she’s doing everything she can to bring help.’
‘I can’t have this argument again. I can’t keep saying we need to act. I can’t keep being told to wait,’ I say.
Corp’s staring out of the window again. ‘You’re right.’
‘Hang on. What?’
‘I said you’re right. We can’t wait forever. But the general won’t see us. We can’t get into headquarters. Unless someone answers the broadcasts, my hands are tied.’
She walks out. Her feet thud on the stairs, and then there’s the distant sound of the front door closing. Ten seconds later, her coatless figure strides away from the coastguard station, treading a line between the beach and the shallow water.
I sense Pat next to me. He knits his fingers with mine, and we watch Corp get smaller and smaller.
‘I want to believe they’re coming back for us,’ I say.