Chapter Four
I WANT TO scream.
I want to run.
I want to throw up on the tile floor.
Maybe that last one would be a good idea. If I vomit, it will look like I’m sick too, and they’ll take me into Emergency. I’ll find April and we’ll run away.
We don’t actually have much of a discussion. Tom asks me if I attacked the border guard and my “technically, yes” is all he’s willing to listen to. He sets me up with a guard and leaves.
“Keep her here while I find Mr. Charles. This is a bloody mess.”
And just like that, I’m back in the dark room, only this time no one is pretending to be friendly.
I sit in silence with the armed guard, watching the sun shift across the lone window.
More than once, I consider fighting him for his gun, but I know he’s not the only person who could attack me while I look for April. Plus, I’ve never fired a gun.
So, against my every impulse, I wait.
Finally, there’s a commotion and the door flies open. Desk Lady’s voice rings out, “You can’t all go back there,” along with Tom’s rough reply of, “Do you want me to bring the judiciary down, too?”
My guard straightens to attention, getting his gun in position.
Three people burst inside. Tom leads them, limping on his bad leg, face red as his hair. After him comes Pat, flapping her hands in dismay. At the back of the pack, barely fitting through the low frame of the door, is Sid Charles. And he looks pissed.
“So Charles, is this the girl?” Tom asks.
Sid looks me over, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Yeah. I guess that’s her.”
“And you didn’t apprehend her?” Tom barks. “A hostile party attacked you, and you didn’t—”
“It was a slingshot. She posed no threat to us.”
“There could always be more than a slingshot. People plan things out there.” Tom gives me a sideways glance. “Did you check the area? There could have been an ambush, or—”
“Of course we checked the area! They were alone.”
“Well, if you had written a report, I would have known that!” Tom fires back. The more they argue, the less room there seems to be between the walls. Everything constricts around their rising voices. “What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that leaving it out was the only way to avoid this bullshit!” Sid thunders. “Look at her, Tom! She’s starving. Are you seriously going to throw her in jail when her kid sister is sick?”
“People are more than their appearances, Mr. Charles,” growls Tom. “Maybe you saw a damsel in distress, but the moment we turned our back on her, she started running around the hospital. She is dangerous. And leaving that out of your report was reckless.”
“It’s a scrape on the hand,” says Sid. “I’m fine.”
“I’m not worried about you! How am I supposed to place her with a sanctuary host if the moment she’s left unattended, she starts firing projectiles or running away? You might be willing to risk someone else in our community, but I’m not. It isn’t safe, and I won’t do it!”
There’s silence. I can’t look at these men anymore. I’m a cornered animal. There’s no hope of escape. I’m already on their island. Guns behind me. Guns ahead. And somehow, they’ve convinced themselves that I’m the dangerous one? The level of delusion is staggering.
An ugly gasp works its way out of my mouth as I struggle to breathe. My lungs are nothing but filmy bubbles, popping as they crash into my ribs. My throat is salt. The waves of their words won’t stop pounding against my head.
I’m a hostile party. Sid was supposed to apprehend me, but he didn’t.
He just fudged some paperwork and figured that would be enough, but he should have told me.
He should have left me safely in Crofton, where they couldn’t do this to me.
Now, this bearded bastard wants to send me to jail while they’ve got April helpless in a hospital room and won’t let me see her.
I have to run. There’s no other choice. Who cares if a bullet comes with it? But when I take a step, my knees buckle, and I barely make it onto a chair without falling over.
Panic attack. I haven’t had one since my mother’s death. There were things Mum used to get me to do to stop them, but I’m already inside the storm, a trembling mess struggling for air or even to hold myself upright.
Through the haze, I feel hands against me. I swat them away instinctively, but a soft voice manages to cut through my terror. “It’s okay, hon. You’re okay. You want a sandwich? Doctor said you’re supposed to eat.”
Pat. The Desk Lady is attempting to shove a sandwich into my hands. I gulp for air, coming to enough to murmur, “I don’t want it.”
“It’s not poisoned. We don’t execute people here,” says Sid.
“Why in Hell’s name are you putting that idea in her head?” Tom shouts, except he’s wrong. Sid didn’t; it’s exactly what I was worried about.
I dry my eyes and meet the flinty gaze of the man I once struck with my slingshot. Despite our bad start, he seems to be the closest thing I have to an ally.
“Please…” I don’t know what I’m begging for. I don’t even know what he can do for me. Tom is the immigration officer, not him, but I realize now just how lucky I was that he ever listened to me. “My sister is sick. I’ll do anything.”
His eyes are as clear and blue as the summer sky. When his gaze falls away from mine, that sky clouds over.
That’s it, then. I’m going to jail, all because I did what anyone would in the wilds. These people are nuts, just like my mother knew they would be.
Sid Charles clears his throat. “I’ll take her.”
Take me where? I almost blurt this out loud, but so long as it’s not jail, it’s probably an improvement, so I manage to shut up for once.
“Come again?” says Tom.
“You said you aren’t worried about me. If this is about finding a sanctuary host who will take her, then I will. Me and the boys will be fine.”
There’s a beat of silence, thick and uncomfortable.
“Pat, would you excuse us? You can leave, too.” Tom gestures at the armed guard, who seems eager to get out of this situation. Pat, for her part, lingers by the door, as if this has finally gotten interesting. “Both of you. Out.”
I’m not sure if I feel better or worse watching them leave. Obviously, I’m glad the gun is gone, but whatever is happening now is something Tom wants as few witnesses to as possible. That thought freaks me the hell out.
Once the door is shut, Tom straightens and serves Sid a commanding look. “I won’t allow it. You have a minor living on your property.”
“Carlos is a tough kid. He’ll be fine. Besides, it might be nice for the sister if there’s someone her age who can show her around school,” Sid argues. “I can talk to my guys, but I know they’ll agree. And if the major objection is placing her with a willing sanctuary host—”
“Look, Mr. Charles—Sid.” Tom sets down his briefcase, as if this will help make his point better. He places a hand on Sid’s shoulder. “As a friend—”
Sid snorts in a way that suggests Tom is stretching the definition of that word.
“As a mentor, then. I would highly recommend you reconsider. There will be other sanctuary cases you can take. Better ones. If this is a matter of optics—”
“It’s a matter of not losing our shit over something that wasn’t that serious,” says Sid.
“I’m not being unreasonable! Attacking a guard posted at a foreign border would have been cause for arrest during the pre-Quake days, too. There’s precedent.”
“Well, I didn’t report an incident. And the hand injury could have been from anywhere. The doctor didn’t see the shot,” says Sid. “So unless you want to turn this into a drawn-out legal process? I mean, if we’re talking optics here…”
“You wouldn’t.” Tom’s face blanches. To my amazement, it seems Sid has leverage over him, though I can’t guess what kind. “You have just as much to lose. More, even.”
Sid shrugs.
Tom glances between the pair of us. He’s clearly still furious, but eventually, he grabs his suitcase. “To hell with both of you, then. If you can’t make rational decisions, that’s no fault of mine. Very well, Mr. Charles. Congratulations on obtaining your first sanctuary case.”
“Thank you, I…” Wait. I’ll admit, I was only half paying attention during Tom’s bafflegab a while ago, but I think I understand where this is going. “Does this mean you expect me to live with him?”
“If you would prefer the penitentiary, I am more than happy to—”
“No! No, of course not, but…” I look at Sid, who for the first time since this started is regarding me as if I’m insane. Maybe I am, starting an argument over lodgings so soon after getting out of jail time. “Thank you?”
Tom cocks an eyebrow. “Still sure you want to take her, Mr. Charles?”
“Uh… yes.” The word almost doesn’t sound like a question.
“Your funeral,” says Tom, opening his briefcase. “With that, why don’t I get your papers? Ms. Hollins, as a sanctuary seeker, you are entitled to temporary lodgings, rations, and a path to citizenship, should you choose to pursue it. Your application will be evaluated after two years.”
“Two years?” Sid repeats. “It should only be—”
“Two years,” Tom continues, “due to a first demerit that we must award you due to lengthy unknown affiliation.”
“That’s bullshit,” Sid barks.
“I have to make judgments where I can. It’s been sixteen years since TNS destroyed Port Alberni,” says Tom, glaring at him. “She could have fallen in with any number of aggressive factions during that time. The Denman Dogs. Red-Whites. TNS themselves. I’m being incredibly generous here.”
“It’s fine,” I say. For one thing, I bet Astolia is on that list too, so I’m getting off easy. Besides, why should I care that I can’t apply for citizenship right away? We’re leaving this island as soon as April is well.
“Good. One demerit.” Tom scribbles that on the head of the page with enthusiasm.
“In your care is a dependent, fifteen-year-old April Hollins. Per Sanctuary Law, she is entitled to enrollment in the Gulf Islands Secondary School. I suggest you see to it that she gets there. Otherwise, you’ll be awarded another demerit. ”
“Okay.” For now, I’ll agree to everything. All I want is out of this room.
“I’ll check in every three months, though either of you may reach out if there are problems.” Tom shoulders his bag and heads for the door. I’m once again struck by the desire to rush forward and kick him in his bad leg.
There’s a drawn-out silence after he’s gone, during which I stare at Sid as he picks up the sanctuary papers Tom left behind.
Even in those simple motions, the tendons in his wrist flex in a way that’s equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.
He may have defended me, but as I consider living with this man, it strikes me all over again that he is not someone I would approach at a watering hole.
He could do anything to me. Once we’re alone, who’s to say what he might try?
“Sorry about Tom.” Sid breaks the silence. “He’s a grumpy piece of shit, but he means well. If that makes sense.”
It does not. I say nothing.
Sid forces a smile. “All right. Looks like you’re coming with me.”
“Now? But my sister is still in there. I haven’t seen her since—”
“Right. Sorry. Of course.” Sid grabs both the hiking packs April and I carried in with us, swinging one up onto his shoulder. “Go check with the front desk. I’ll wait for you.”
I stare at him, blood hammering in my ears. I don’t get the impression he likes me much, but he’s better than prison, isn’t he?
Unless I’m only being sent to a different cage.
It doesn’t matter. Like it or not, I’m stuck with Sid Charles for the foreseeable future.