My Name is Stab

Chapter Nine - James

Things got pretty stressy when Laura returned. Apparently there was a big group on their way and something about a plague. I didn't really follow it. I suppose I was still in something of a state of shock and, somehow, nothing seemed that real anymore.

But, still, I did what I could to help them move the wagon back to their base. I was too weak to be of much use pulling the thing but at least I could steer it.

At last we made it back to the little valley they called home and I was very impressed with what I saw. There were guards and things, mostly in some sort of military uniform, and they all had guns and there didn't seem to be any slaves. There were plenty of sheep about, too. I suppose if you've got enough sheep, you don't need to eat people.

We made our way up the little lane to a farmhouse. I slumped in the corner of the kitchen - and it was warm - properly warm. I couldn't remember the last time that I'd felt properly warm like that and I fell into a sort of doze.

I was woken by a boy called James with a friendly half smile and a droopy curtain of hair across his face. He had brought me some porridge and even apologised because there was only half a bowl. It was warm and there was a spoonful of jam in it and it was probably the most wonderful thing I had ever eaten. I sort of wanted to smile back but he had to make do with a mumbled 'thank you'. He sat down sort of close to me - close enough so I could be with him if I wanted but far enough away so that I could just as well ignore him. I thought that was a nice touch and found myself vaguely wondering if that was what it was like to have a big brother.

He was quiet for a while and then asked me whether I would like to know a bit about the people on the farm.

I managed a nod of reply.

He told me that it was his grandma's farm - he called her 'Mam' - and that there were various family members and friends staying in the valley. Pretty much everybody was in their military - trying to keep people like Deemo's gang out, I supposed - and they were trying to make enough food by farming.

Suddenly two little girls appeared. They ran up to James and jumped on him - so presumably they were his sisters or something.

"Who's that?" one of them asked, pointing at me.

"Emily, that's rude," he told her. "Ask her properly and I'm sure she'll tell you."

She cuddled behind his arm for safety then looked at me and said, "What's your name?"

"Please," James added for her.

"Please," she echoed dutifully.

"You can call me 'Stab'."

"That's a funny name."

I nodded. There was no point in trying to deny it.

"You have sad eyes," the other little girl said. She made a move towards me, I think to sit on my lap and, when I flinched back, James grabbed at her and hauled her back onto his own lap. As he did so, his hand brushed against my arm. It was a bit uncomfortable but not quite as uncomfortable as I thought it ought to be.

"I think you two should go and play in the other room," he suggested to the two girls. "Slippers and jumpers on, though."

"But..."

"Or you can go and see whether Mam needs any help with cooking!" he cautioned.

With that slight threat hanging in the air, the two scurried away to take up his first suggestion.

"Sorry about that," he said when we were free.

I didn't respond immediately but then I asked, "Why is everybody being so nice to me?"