Page 33 of Blue Arrow Island
Her eyes remain vacant. “I’m not. I...” She closes her eyes.
“Yes, you are strong,” I yell, hoping to get through to her. “You’re strong and you matter. Please, come with me.”
“Just go.” She lets her head fall back against the wall. “I’m not worth it.”
“Yes, you?—”
She narrows her eyes. “I ate some of it! Do you know what they do to people who steal extra food here? They exile them to the jungle. It’s all there was left and Billy told me not to think about what it is while I prep it, and I...” Tears flood her eyes.
This fucking place. The apocalypse wasn’t bad enough for Whitman, apparently. He pounced on it, making people intosomething they shouldn’t be. Forcing them to make choices they shouldn’t have to make.
“Rona, you’re starving. We’re all starving. You have to build a box in your mind and put this in there.”
Her lower lip quivers. “I can’t do it anymore, Briar. Just go. Leave me.”
A gust of wind knocks me to the side. I catch myself and land on my hand. I’m running out of time.
“I don’t want to die!” I yell at her. “I’m not ready! And I’m not leaving you, so you can either come with me or we’ll both die here. It’s your choice.”
She grimaces. “No! Leave! I don’t want your help.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
A piece of wood flies through the air and I quickly cover my head with my arms to avoid being hit. It makes contact with my arm and I cry out.
“Fuck! Fine!” Rona storms out from under the meat table.
Blood trickles down my arm as we run out of the shelter, holding on to each other for support.
We run, our arms locked together. The water comes up past our ankles, and it’s sloshing around like an angry ocean of waves.
“Hurry!” I call out.
We make it to the stairs, both of us grabbing on to the railing with both hands and forcing our way up one step at a time, the wind battering us.
I didn’t make it this far to only make it this far.
Rona’s hands cling to the back of my shirt as I fight my way to the door and get the key out. I block the wind with my body, getting it in quickly and opening the door.
The door whips open and slams against the wall. Rona and I both grab it and push, but it’s not enough. It barely moves.
I wedge myself between the back of the door and the wall, using my whole body to push on the door. Rona does the same, both of us straining from the effort.
Finally, it closes. I hold it shut while Rona flips the horizontal metal security bar into place and latches it.
Suddenly, it’s quiet. Water pours off of us, pooling on the wooden floorboards.
I drop into a sitting position. I can’t move anymore. I can’t even think. So I just sit, waiting for my heart to slow to its regular pace for the first time in several hours.
11
Awareness is the most important part of defense. Trust your instincts and always pay attention to your surroundings. When interviewed after use of force incidents, a majority of officers stated that they sensed something was wrong before the incident began.
- Excerpt from a police training manual written by Ben Hollis
Twenty-four hours later, the rain hasn’t let up. It’s a roaring sheet of nonstop hammering against the metal roof. The roof held through the worst of the wind, which came while we were both sleeping.
It was a battle for a few hours, the storm howling in its dogged effort to pull off the sheeting above us, and the roof rattling at times, but never giving in.
