“They didn’t even give her basic bloody treatment,” grunts Mistress Lawson, getting to her feet and running back towards the cave to get the heaviest medicines we’ve got.
“Come on, my difficult girl,” Mistress Coyle says quietly, stroking Corinne’s forehead.
“You stayed until you found her,” I say. “That’s why you were last.”
“She’d never yield, this one,” Mistress Coyle says, her voice rough and not just because of smoke. “No matter what they did to her.”
We look down at Corinne’s face, her eyes still closed, her mouth dropped open, her breath faltering.
Mistress Coyle’s right. Corinne would never yield, would never give names or information, would take the punishment to keep other daughters, other mothers, from feeling it themselves.
“The infection,” I say, my throat swelling. “The smell, it means–”
Mistress Coyle just bites her lips hard and shakes her head.
“Oh, Corinne,” I say. “Oh, no.”
And right there, right there in my hands, in my lap, her face turned up to mine–
She dies.
There’s only silence when it happens. It isn’t loud or struggled against or violent or anything at all. She just falls quiet, a certain type of quiet you know is endless as soon as you hear it, a quiet that muffles everything around it, turning off the volume of the world.
The only thing I can hear, in fact, is my own breathing, wet and heavy and like I’ll never feel lightness again. And in the silence of my breath I look down the hillside, I see the rest of the wounded around us, their mouths open to cry out in pain, their eyes blank with horrors still being seen even after rescue. I see Mistress Lawson, running towards us with medicine, too late, too late. I see Lee, coming back up the path, calling out for his mother and sister, not willing to believe yet that in all this mess, they’re still not here.
I think of the Mayor in his cathedral, making promises, telling lies.
(I think of Todd in the Mayor’s hands)
I look down at Corinne in my lap, Corinne who never liked me, not ever, but who gave her life for mine anyway.
We are the choices we make.
When I look up at Mistress Coyle, the wet in my eyes makes everything shine with pointed lights, makes the first peek of the rising sun a smear across the sky.
But I can see her clearly enough.
My teeth are clenched, my voice thick as mud.
“I’m ready,” I say. “I’ll do anything you want.”
[TODD]
“Oh, God,” Mayor Ledger keeps saying under his breath. “Oh, God.”
“What’re you so upset about?” I finally snap at him.
The door ain’t unlocked at its usual time. Morning’s come and gone with no sign of anyone remembering that we’re here. Outside the city burns and ROARs but a sour part of me can’t help thinking he’s moaning cuz they’re late with our breakfast.
“The surrender was supposed to bring peace,” he says. “And that bloody woman has ruined everything.”
I look at him strangely. “It’s not like it’s paradise here or nothing. There’s curfews and prisons and–
But he’s shaking his head. “Before she started her little campaign, the President was relaxing the laws. He was easing the restrictions. Things were going to be okay.”
I stand and look out the windows to the west, where smoke still rises and fires still rage and the Noise of men don’t show no sign of stopping.
“You’ve got to be practical,” Mayor Ledger says, “even in the face of tyrants.”
“Is that what you are then?” I say. “Practical?”
He narrows his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, boy.”
I don’t really know what I’m getting at neither but I’m frightened and I’m hungry and we’re stuck in this stupid tower while the world falls to bits around us and we can watch it but we can’t do nothing to change it and I don’t know what Viola’s part in all this is or where she is and I don’t know where the future’s heading and I don’t know how any good can possibly come outta any of this but what I do know is that Mayor Ledger telling me how practical he’s been is kinda pissing me off.
Oh, yeah, and one more thing.
“Don’t you call me boy.”
He takes a step towards me. “A man would understand that things are more complicated than just right or wrong.”
“A man trying to save his own skin surely would.” And my Noise is saying Try it, come on, try it.
Mayor Ledger clenches his fists. “What you don’t know, Todd,” he says, nostrils flaring. “What you don’t know.”
“What don’t I know?” I say but then the door goes ker-thunk, making us both jump.
Davy comes busting in, rifles in hand. “Come on,” he says, shoving one at me. “Pa wants us.”
I go without another word, leaving Mayor Ledger shouting “Hey!” behind us as Davy locks the door.
“Fifty-six soldiers killed,” Davy says as we trundle down the stairs on the inside of the tower. “We killed a dozen of ’em and captured a dozen more but they got away with almost two hundred prisoners.”
“Two hundred?” I say, stopping for a second. “How many people were in prison?”
“Come on, pigpiss, Pa’s waiting.”
I run to catch up. We cross the lobby of the cathedral and head out the front door. “Those bitches,” Davy’s saying, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe the things they’re capable of. They blew up a bunkhouse. A bunkhouse! Where men were sleeping!”
We exit the cathedral to chaos in the square. Smoke is still blowing in from the west, making everything hazy. Soldiers, both by themselves and in squads, run this way and that, some of them pushing people before them, beating them with their rifles. Others are standing guard around groups of terrified-looking women and separate smaller groups of terrified-looking men.
“But we showed them, tho,” Davy says, grimacing.
“You were there?”
“No.” He looks down at his rifle. “But I will be next time.”
“David!” we hear. “Todd!” The Mayor’s riding towards us from across the square, moving so heavy and fast Morpeth’s shoes are striking sparks from the bricks.