Page 138 of The Island

What was he…he must be…

She was cold all over. Deathly cold.

“Heather…I don’t understand this. You attacked the farm when I was trying to sort out a deal. What have you been doing?”

The voice on the radio. Holy shit. It was Tom.

42

Her old friend the crow with the yellow eye was staring at her as the world rotated back into view.

She must have fainted.

She had never fainted in her life.

Didn’t people only faint in novels with characters named Darcy and Rochester? Nobody fainted in the real world.

“Heather!”

What was happ—Oh. My. God. She picked up the walkie-talkie. “Tom? Is that you?”

“Heather?”

“I’m here.”

“I’m here too.”

“How?”

“They saved me. Gillian saved me…”

“How are you—”

“Gillian. She’s a nurse. Listen, Heather, it’s hard to talk. I think I’ve made a deal.”

“A deal? What? Tom…how can you trust them after all this?”

“We have to, Heather…only chance to get out alive…can’t talk…I’m giving the walkie-talkie back to Matt.”

“No!”

Static.

“Tom? Tom!”

“It’s Matt again. Heather, can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.”

“Tom’s in terrible shape. He can’t speak for long. He has a collapsed lung.”

“He’s alive? It’s impossible! I saw him stabbed!”

“You saw him take a knife to the side. But Gillian saved him. Every remote station in Australia has emergency medical supplies. Little Niamh found him still breathing. Gillian used to be a nurse. We patched him up as best we could. Real meatball surgery, Gillian called it. He has a collapsed lung and probably liver damage. He needs to be in a hospital, Heather. He’s in a bad way.”

Heather burst into tears. “The kids don’t know he’s alive. Let me go get them.”

“Let me talk to you first, Heather. We’ve made a deal. Despite everything you’ve done. Actually, I’ll let Tom explain,” Matt said.

---