underwear – the second drawer down – more clothes – the bottom drawer. More clothes, but on the left a plastic box. She prised off the lid. Inside were boxes of painkillers, anti–histamines, a tube of suncream – and a single cardboard box labelled surething . She grabbed it, pressed the lid back on the plastic box, closed the drawer with a bang that made her flinch, and crept out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her, shoving the pregnancy test in the pocket of her jeans.
She went downstairs, retrieved her backpack from the shelf and took the back door out of the farmhouse, Brian’s voice still echoing in the courtyard. She left through the small front gate and was halfway across the grass when she heard a shout behind her. She turned. It was Tom, waving at her. He ran down to her.
“Hey, wait up a second,” he said. “I’ve got something for you. I got it in Glasgow last week but I forgot all about it – look.” He held out a watch. It was like the ones she’d seen people wear on VR movies, but bulkier – a black strap with a dark screen running all the way round the wrist.
“It’s a darknet watch,” he said. “I got it pretty cheap off this guy I was selling the ink to. You won’t be able to pick anything up out here, but it’s got a bunch of stuff on it, lots of encyclopaedias and stuff. Very illegal. Don’t tell the cops,” he said, grinning.
She took it gently. “Thanks,” she said, blushing from the thought of the pregnancy test in her pocket and blushing more at the thought of blushing.
“Just tap it to turn it on.” He tapped the screen and it glowed orange. A message appeared — No Signal . He tapped again and the little screen went black again. She pressed the watch carefully onto her wrist and felt it gently tighten to fit her.
“Ignore the “No Signal” bit,” he said. “Just ask it to look things up for you and it will, it’s got lots in its memory. It can take photos and stuff too. Ask me if you get stuck. See you for some food later, OK?”
“Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”
“No worries,” he grinned, ruffling her hair. She grinned back.
He went back to the farmhouse and she ascended into the woods without looking back, bearing left this time, heading for a secluded place. As soon as she was sure she was too far for anyone to find her, she sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree and pulled out the pregnancy test. She opened it and pulled the thin black tube out. She shook it a little.
A green arrow appeared on the side of the stick. It spoke with a female voice, making her jump – “To test for pregnancy, at least one week must have passed since conception. Press the end of the device with firm pressure against any point on the arm and hold for ten seconds. You may feel a slight pinprick.”
Her heart pounded. She pressed the tube against the inside of her lower arm and counted slowly. She felt nothing. She counted all the way to fifteen and then pulled it away. The tube lit up. “You are pregnant, with ninety–eight percent certainty,” the voice said happily. “You are pregnant,” it repeated. “This pregnancy test cannot be reused. Please recycle responsibly.”
Lily shoved the test into her pocket, grabbed her bag and ran up the hill, jumping over roots, scrambling through the leaves and pulling herself up past tree trunks. The ground was wet in places but she ignored it, her boots keeping the worst out. She ran and climbed until she was gasping for air and her legs were screaming for her to stop. Finally she slumped down onto the ground, sitting looking out through the trees. She was about half way up the hill that dominated the centre of the island. Everything was lit by a thin winter sunshine. Across the bay she could see a few houses, lights on inside. A sailing boat with a tall mast was moored just offshore.
Visitors passing through.
She was pregnant.
Four years ago, when she arrived, they had told her clearly that she could
She went downstairs, retrieved her backpack from the shelf and took the back door out of the farmhouse, Brian’s voice still echoing in the courtyard. She left through the small front gate and was halfway across the grass when she heard a shout behind her. She turned. It was Tom, waving at her. He ran down to her.
“Hey, wait up a second,” he said. “I’ve got something for you. I got it in Glasgow last week but I forgot all about it – look.” He held out a watch. It was like the ones she’d seen people wear on VR movies, but bulkier – a black strap with a dark screen running all the way round the wrist.
“It’s a darknet watch,” he said. “I got it pretty cheap off this guy I was selling the ink to. You won’t be able to pick anything up out here, but it’s got a bunch of stuff on it, lots of encyclopaedias and stuff. Very illegal. Don’t tell the cops,” he said, grinning.
She took it gently. “Thanks,” she said, blushing from the thought of the pregnancy test in her pocket and blushing more at the thought of blushing.
“Just tap it to turn it on.” He tapped the screen and it glowed orange. A message appeared — No Signal . He tapped again and the little screen went black again. She pressed the watch carefully onto her wrist and felt it gently tighten to fit her.
“Ignore the “No Signal” bit,” he said. “Just ask it to look things up for you and it will, it’s got lots in its memory. It can take photos and stuff too. Ask me if you get stuck. See you for some food later, OK?”
“Sure,” she said. “Thanks.”
“No worries,” he grinned, ruffling her hair. She grinned back.
He went back to the farmhouse and she ascended into the woods without looking back, bearing left this time, heading for a secluded place. As soon as she was sure she was too far for anyone to find her, she sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree and pulled out the pregnancy test. She opened it and pulled the thin black tube out. She shook it a little.
A green arrow appeared on the side of the stick. It spoke with a female voice, making her jump – “To test for pregnancy, at least one week must have passed since conception. Press the end of the device with firm pressure against any point on the arm and hold for ten seconds. You may feel a slight pinprick.”
Her heart pounded. She pressed the tube against the inside of her lower arm and counted slowly. She felt nothing. She counted all the way to fifteen and then pulled it away. The tube lit up. “You are pregnant, with ninety–eight percent certainty,” the voice said happily. “You are pregnant,” it repeated. “This pregnancy test cannot be reused. Please recycle responsibly.”
Lily shoved the test into her pocket, grabbed her bag and ran up the hill, jumping over roots, scrambling through the leaves and pulling herself up past tree trunks. The ground was wet in places but she ignored it, her boots keeping the worst out. She ran and climbed until she was gasping for air and her legs were screaming for her to stop. Finally she slumped down onto the ground, sitting looking out through the trees. She was about half way up the hill that dominated the centre of the island. Everything was lit by a thin winter sunshine. Across the bay she could see a few houses, lights on inside. A sailing boat with a tall mast was moored just offshore.
Visitors passing through.
She was pregnant.
Four years ago, when she arrived, they had told her clearly that she could
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