Chapter 16 #2
As well as the hopelessness of the people in the room, the other thing Hallie noticed was the temperature.
With the front doors standing open, there would have been a draft anyway, but the room was barely warmer than the outdoors.
There were two fireplaces - one on either side of the room - but they were both dark and empty.
Even as she registered the temperature of the room, the doors began to close, moving silently on their hinges, then meeting with a dull thud followed by what sounded like a bar being placed across the outside, securing the building, meaning no one would be able to leave.
The unease she’d felt walking through the streets, at the primitive conditions and the fear of the people at the sight of the gunners, returned in full force.
In the gloomy room, lit only by a series of small windows high in the walls, a few heads lifted, faces turning towards her and Girard, and the breath caught in her throat at the expressions she saw.
Defeat. Fear. Resignation. As if they were used to more punishment coming through the door.
As dark-shadowed eyes travelled over her and Girard she saw a few faint sparks of curiosity, but most people just turned back to staring at the table in front of them.
The only anomaly in the room was Rhodda, sitting at the far end of one of the tables, across from a grey-haired man.
It contrast to the stillness and exhaustion of the rest of the room, Rhodda’s back was straight, and it looked like the two were engaged in a fierce argument.
As the man lifted his head and looked over at Hallie and Girard, Rhodda turned as well, eyes widening slightly before she raised a hand, beckoning them over.
By mutual, silent agreement, Hallie and Girard crossed the room to stand at the end of the table between Rhodda and the grey-haired man.
“You’ve been in a fight,” Rhodda commented, eyes moving between Hallie and Girard.
“Little bit, yes,” Hallie answered. “Nicholas set his men on us.”
“And you got away?” Rhodda asked, astonished.
“Not really,” Hallie said, tilting her head towards the door. “We were brought here. It seems Nicholas wants a bit of time to think about how to dispose of us.”
“You seem very calm about it.” That was the man sitting opposite Rhodda.
He wasn’t grey-haired, as Hallie had first thought.
His once-pale skin had been tanned from outdoor work, which had also bleached his fair hair until it was almost white, pale blue eyes surrounded by lines and purple shadows from exhaustion.
He looked to be about the same age as Rhodda, and a little taller, although it was hard to tell with him sitting down.
He was hunched over as if every bone in his body hurt.
“He can make his plans,” Girard said easily. “We don’t have to go along with them. I’m Girard Abbott. This is Hallie Talbot.”
“Donall Greer,” the man answered.
Hallie remembered the name Donall. From the ledger that she and Girard had studied in the radio room.
“I’m pleased to know you,” Girard said, still in that same, easy, calm tone. A far cry from his brisk manner with Nicholas Rigg. “Are you all from Reunion?” He cast his gaze around the room and received weary nods.
Hallie took a closer look. From the handful that Rhodda had said had started the settlement, the numbers had grown a bit.
There were about ten people in the room.
The youngest was a man who looked more like a lanky teenager than a full grown adult, but most were closer in age to Rhodda and Donall.
Hallie felt a frown gathering. There were no children here, but there definitely had been in Reunion, judging by the colourful drawings she’d found.
And the people in this room wouldn’t have filled the bunk beds. “We found the place abandoned.”
“Yes.” Donall’s face twisted in what looked like grief and anger. “We were brought here. Five, six days ago? I’ve lost track.”
“The gunners,” Hallie said softly, remembering the entry in the ledger in Reunion and the information they’d been able to get out of Rhodda.
“May we sit with you? Talk a while?” Girard asked.
“Of course. Please. We don’t have anything to offer you beyond water,” Donall said, gesturing to some cups and a pitcher on the table surface.
“Thank you,” Girard said gravely. He poured a cup for Hallie and for himself, and took a seat next to Rhodda, facing Donall. Hallie took a seat beside Donall, so the four of them formed a group at the end of the table. “Why were you brought here?” Girard asked.
Donall made a rude sound and muttered a curse. “Master Nicholas wanted more workers,” he said, and made another rude sound. “He wants a new dock built at the harbour. A bigger one to allow larger ships in.”
Hallie’s frown returned. “So, what, he had you rounded up at gun point and brought here to do that work?”
“That’s right.” Donall’s fingers tightened around the metal cup in his hand so that his knuckles whitened and the cup twisted a little. “Said we weren’t doing any good in Reunion. Said we were needed here.”
“He seems to think he’s in charge,” Hallie said slowly, eyes travelling between Rhodda and Donall, “but I’m guessing you don’t agree.”
“He’s a liar,” Rhodda said, fury burning her voice. “He doesn’t get to decide.”
“No,” Donall agreed. He lifted his shadowed eyes to Girard and Hallie. “He’s got everyone here working for him, one way or another.”
“Working,” Rhodda said, derision clear. “The gunners don’t do much more than posture. Layabouts.”
“That’s true,” Donall said, exhaustion returning. “If you’re one of Nicholas’ gunners, you get food and lodging and don’t have to do any other type of work,” he explained to Hallie and Girard.
“So everyone else has to work to provide the food and clothing and look after them, as well as themselves?” Hallie asked, although it wasn’t really a question. “It must be hard enough here with no running water and electricity.”
“Not for the common folk, for sure,” Donall agreed. His jaw clenched for a moment and he met Rhodda’s eyes across the table. “Took us a week, maybe ten days, to get the water pipes laid in Reunion. It was one of the things we all agreed on when we moved there.”
“Community projects,” Hallie said softly.
“That’s right,” Rhodda said, her eyes too bright. “We’ve had running water almost from the first, and we were working towards electricity next year.”
“Everyone pitched in,” Donall added, looking around the room, a smile lifting his mouth.
“We all have our particular skills. We were building something, something that was ours. Better than what we’d had before, and what we had here, with Nicholas taking everything that he wanted. Reunion is our home now.”
For just a moment, Hallie saw the exhaustion lift and Donall’s smile reflected in the faces and eyes of the people around the room.
The shared belief in what they had been doing.
Building something. She felt answering warmth bloom in her chest, seeing the hope that had brought all the people to this island.
“We got held back by the warrimel,” Rhodda said, sour note in her voice. “Had to spend most of this year working on the defences.”
Donall made a low sound of agreement. “And then we needed solid buildings. We’d hoped to work on the houses over time, improve them as we went.
The swarms took care of that idea. We got the fence up after the first one, but a few of the vermin got over it.
” His face tightened, paled, as if remembering.
“We all made it through the night, but we couldn’t risk being scattered around the town again if any more got through, so we all slept in a group from then on, with people on watch.
Took a good while to work out how to make decent bricks, then we didn’t have enough time or people to make all the houses.
We made the bunk house so at least we’d have somewhere reasonably safe to rest, so that no one was on their own. ”
“We were better at bricks than at the bunk beds,” Rhodda said, faint humour in her face, “but everyone had a bed, at least.”
“We were getting the fields ready to plant crops in the spring, then it was going to be electricity and after that we were going to work on the houses,” Donall finished, his face brighter.
Hallie could hear the confidence in his voice, the determination that had led to him being one of the few to leave New Hope and set out with a few others to make their own future.
Hallie nodded, remembering the small individual buildings with their solid foundations and badly-made walls, as well as the long, low building with the crudely made bunk beds. Donall’s story solved a lot of her questions about Reunion.
“We encountered the warrimel,” she said. “It was horrible.”
“It is,” Donall agreed, sympathy on his face.
“You’re talking as if you can’t go back to Reunion,” Girard said, his voice quiet, as if he didn’t want his words to travel around the room, but still wanted the answers.
With a start, Hallie realised he was right. She’d been caught up in putting the puzzle pieces together about Reunion and hadn’t noticed the grief in Donall’s voice.
“Nicholas said it’s not needed. Said that all resources are needed here,” Donall answered, eyes on the cup he was still holding.
“But he’s not in charge,” Hallie said slowly, “so why does he think he can get away with it?” Even as she spoke, she thought she knew the answer. The gunners. Nicholas was in charge of the people with the guns.
“Because no one challenges him,” Rhodda said, and sent a glare in Donall’s direction that surprised Hallie. It seemed the other woman thought Donall had some blame.