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Authors: Lisa M. Stasse
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seriously ill on an island like this would be a death sentence. No doctors, no hospitals, no medicines—unless Veidman can cook up antibiotics in addition to his truth serum.
I feel light-headed. “They all look so sick.”
Gadya flinches. “Don’t use that word.”
“‘Sick’?”
“Yeah. Veidman doesn’t like it. Says it causes panic. That’s why we call them the Ones Who Suffer.” She pauses, reading my face. “The situation creeps me out too, okay? All we have right now are theories. The illness could be something natural, like toxic mushrooms or berries. Or bad meat. But I doubt it. I think the Monk’s drones are deliberately trying to poison us.”
I’m watching the bodies in the hammocks. An emaciated boy about my age whimpers in pain, his eyes swollen shut. Crusts of dried blood speckle the corners of his mouth. I glance away.
“The Suffering is one of the real reasons most people don’t live past eighteen here,” Gadya says. “I bet no one told you that back in the UNA.”
I nod. “What are the symptoms?”
“Fever. Tiredness. Bleeding out of places you shouldn’t bleed from. After that you just fall apart and die, like you’ve got the plague.” Gadya turns away. “Don’t tell anyone I showed you this place. Veidman usually makes me wait a few more days.”
“I can understand why,” I mutter.
We start walking back up the trail in silence, the wailing and coughing sounds receding into the distance. I’m stunned, and I feel terrible for the victims of this disease.
“Can I do anything to avoid ever catching it?” I ask Gadya.
“Watch what you eat. But it’s not like there are too many options on this island. Other than a few kinds of fruits and vegetables, hoofers are pretty much it.”
“Hoofers?”
“A type of wild boar. The whole island is crawling with them.”
“I think one almost attacked me and David, before you found us.”
“Attacked you?” Gadya scoffs. “Doubtful. Hoofers are scared of humans. We hunt ’em for food. They shriek like the devil, but it’s just noise.”
“Good to know.”
“And another important thing about the wheel, before I forget.” She pauses as we reach the edge of the main clearing again. “We’ve got a rule—no hooking up with guys. I mean, kissing’s okay and stuff, but no sex.”
I want to laugh. I’m grimy, sweaty, exhausted, and my dark brown hair is a tangled mess. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to touch me, let alone hook up with me. “That’s not gonna be a problem.”
“Good, ’cause hookups lead to babies, and no one wants that.”
I don’t ask what the penalty is for breaking this rule, but I have no doubt that kids probably sleep with one another all the time. Still, I don’t see any babies anywhere, so maybe not.
“Is there any place to bathe?” I ask, suddenly aware of how much my skin is itching.
“The big river. It runs along one edge of the village. Us girls made some bathing shacks out of plywood so the boys can’t watch us. They always try.”
“So the water’s safe here?”
“As safe as anything else.” She sighs. “The wheel is a harsh place, Alenna. You either learn to adapt or it’ll eat you up and spit out your carcass with a burp.” She sees my glum look and grins. “But at least there’s no more school. Or earpieces. Or thought-pills. Or any of Minster Harka’s re-education crap. We’ve got more freedom here than the kids back home can ever dream of.”
“True. We just can’t do anything with it.”
“Not yet,” she says softly. Before I can ask what she means, she adds, “I’ll take you to the river so you can wash up. I’ll get you some fresh clothes too. Then it’ll be time for our nightly meeting and dinner. We have it round the fire pit before sunset. You’re our first new arrival in three weeks, so everyone will be curious to meet you.” She looks me up and down, like she’s seeing me for the first time. Almost begrudgingly, she says, “You’re
I feel light-headed. “They all look so sick.”
Gadya flinches. “Don’t use that word.”
“‘Sick’?”
“Yeah. Veidman doesn’t like it. Says it causes panic. That’s why we call them the Ones Who Suffer.” She pauses, reading my face. “The situation creeps me out too, okay? All we have right now are theories. The illness could be something natural, like toxic mushrooms or berries. Or bad meat. But I doubt it. I think the Monk’s drones are deliberately trying to poison us.”
I’m watching the bodies in the hammocks. An emaciated boy about my age whimpers in pain, his eyes swollen shut. Crusts of dried blood speckle the corners of his mouth. I glance away.
“The Suffering is one of the real reasons most people don’t live past eighteen here,” Gadya says. “I bet no one told you that back in the UNA.”
I nod. “What are the symptoms?”
“Fever. Tiredness. Bleeding out of places you shouldn’t bleed from. After that you just fall apart and die, like you’ve got the plague.” Gadya turns away. “Don’t tell anyone I showed you this place. Veidman usually makes me wait a few more days.”
“I can understand why,” I mutter.
We start walking back up the trail in silence, the wailing and coughing sounds receding into the distance. I’m stunned, and I feel terrible for the victims of this disease.
“Can I do anything to avoid ever catching it?” I ask Gadya.
“Watch what you eat. But it’s not like there are too many options on this island. Other than a few kinds of fruits and vegetables, hoofers are pretty much it.”
“Hoofers?”
“A type of wild boar. The whole island is crawling with them.”
“I think one almost attacked me and David, before you found us.”
“Attacked you?” Gadya scoffs. “Doubtful. Hoofers are scared of humans. We hunt ’em for food. They shriek like the devil, but it’s just noise.”
“Good to know.”
“And another important thing about the wheel, before I forget.” She pauses as we reach the edge of the main clearing again. “We’ve got a rule—no hooking up with guys. I mean, kissing’s okay and stuff, but no sex.”
I want to laugh. I’m grimy, sweaty, exhausted, and my dark brown hair is a tangled mess. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to touch me, let alone hook up with me. “That’s not gonna be a problem.”
“Good, ’cause hookups lead to babies, and no one wants that.”
I don’t ask what the penalty is for breaking this rule, but I have no doubt that kids probably sleep with one another all the time. Still, I don’t see any babies anywhere, so maybe not.
“Is there any place to bathe?” I ask, suddenly aware of how much my skin is itching.
“The big river. It runs along one edge of the village. Us girls made some bathing shacks out of plywood so the boys can’t watch us. They always try.”
“So the water’s safe here?”
“As safe as anything else.” She sighs. “The wheel is a harsh place, Alenna. You either learn to adapt or it’ll eat you up and spit out your carcass with a burp.” She sees my glum look and grins. “But at least there’s no more school. Or earpieces. Or thought-pills. Or any of Minster Harka’s re-education crap. We’ve got more freedom here than the kids back home can ever dream of.”
“True. We just can’t do anything with it.”
“Not yet,” she says softly. Before I can ask what she means, she adds, “I’ll take you to the river so you can wash up. I’ll get you some fresh clothes too. Then it’ll be time for our nightly meeting and dinner. We have it round the fire pit before sunset. You’re our first new arrival in three weeks, so everyone will be curious to meet you.” She looks me up and down, like she’s seeing me for the first time. Almost begrudgingly, she says, “You’re
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