Wildlings

14: The Universe Inside

Sannah woke up with a start, dread pounding the base of her stomach. Where was she? She was cold. An itchy, musty fabric against her face. Her mouth was dry and tasted foul. There was no indication of what time it was in this windowless room. Sannah had a sense of dread, and wasn't sure why.

She listened, her senses tingling with fear. She couldn't hear Saint, but sensed he was still in the room, behind the thin dividing curtain. Perhaps she could hear his breath, soft as he slept, but she wasn't sure if it was just her blood buzzing in her ears.

What was she doing here? Reality, the events of yesterday, fell on her like a snowdrift. Sobbing Judit. Naked, blue painted. The bus attacker's hands, tight on her arms. Her life savings, gone. The heart in the shadows. This strange room, this bad decision.

The drugs. Her stomach cramped in fear when she thought of the drugs, thought of the man in the room with her right now, thought of what she'd thought and how she'd felt last night.

It was dark except for a small red light on the cooker, shallowly casting its pall over the room's outlines. She could see the shape of the chang pipe amid other detritus on the table. She shivered, pulling the thin purple blanket tighter around herself.

Sannah thought of how she'd felt last night, the warm easiness, the chang getting in her system, clouding her judgement. She remembered that moment feeling the thug, her tang for him, and pushed the thought right out of her mind, quickly. The image went, but the fear stayed. Thank God the chang hadn't led that any further. She needed to protect herself.

She shuddered, closing her eyes tight to try and block out the bleak reality of it all. I can't handle this, she thought. I'm out of my depth. She began to cry, pushing her face into the sofa to stifle her sobs, terrified he would hear. She thought about Judit. Where was she? What was she doing? This was the first morning she'd woken without her in living memory.

After what seemed like eternity, there was a shuffling movement from behind the curtain, a cough, and the bulk of Saint appeared in the darkness. He moved nimbly through the dark room to the table, switching on the dim light.

The low yellow glow felt strange with Sannah's body clock telling her it was morning. Now the room was lit she could see his eyes were slit and puffy in his slim face, and he didn't smile. He was wearing the same plain black t-shirt and black jeans as yesterday.

He glanced at her, his face cold and inscrutible, and gave a short, hostile nod of greeting. Sannah felt mortified, hoped he couldn't tell she'd been crying. She needed the toilet. She remembered what he'd said about the bathroom, and opened the door, leaving it ajar as she tiptoed down the cold corridor.

They didn't speak until he'd made them both cups of steaming hot tea, and set them at the table opposite each other.

"I've got to go out," Saint said, not looking at her. "I'll be back later, I don't know when. I'll leave you the key for the deadbolt."

"I won't go anywhere." Sannah was hesitant. "Just in case they're looking for me. There might be drones." She looked into her tea, and thought for a while. "I've got a bit of cash, if you can—I mean, I'd really appreciate it if you'd get me some food. It doesn't matter what."

She felt so awkward talking to him, compared to last night when she'd started spilling her most intimate secrets. Sannah cringed.

He shook his head. "There's food in that cupboard. You can eat that. The other one is Dai's. There's probably nothing in there worth eating."

He looked at his screen and she hid her gaze in her tea. They sat in silence.

He stood up, disappearing behind the curtain. When he reappeared he was wearing a jacket, and holding keys and a large, old-looking screen.