Vicious Memories

Chapter 74

Arun sent groups of messengers to call the villagers back home. There was no time to waste anymore.

As if we had much to begin with.

That was one of the harshest parts of losing your memory. Yes, you lost your sense of self, your tether to the things you used to hold dear, your knowledge of your past... but you lost your sense of time, too. Things that happened a few days ago stretched and twisted until they were indistinguishable from defining moments of a lost childhood. Moments from two weeks ago had so much space to occupy in your mind that they still felt like they took place earlier in the day.

Memories are who we are in so many more ways than I ever imagined, and I suppose I only realized how lost I was without them once they were already gone for good.

The clean slate people talk about isn't a delightful chance at a fresh start. It's a curse. I wanted nothing more than to take a permanent marker and fill in the blank spots until there was no white space left, until I remembered everything.

A blur of red cloth and blonde hair flew by my face, making me jump.

"Finn! Va bien? Soyez plus prudent!"

I watched Mads wrap her arms around Finn's midriff, her face buried in his chest as Bev and Barbara fought to keep him upright. Finn smiled through the pain in his leg. I smiled, too.

The village in the early afternoon was indescribably beautiful. A lone handful of clouds dotted the sky as a flock of birds flew across a blue sea, wheeling in perfect formation and angling south toward the ocean. Our cabins and tents stood proudly against the gravity that fought to return them to the earth. The sentient presence of the monkeypod tree stretched its brown and green limbs out as far as it could.

As the semblance of civilization continued to fray and unravel, beauty seemed intent on filling in the cracks.

Alice and Arun were speaking anxiously as I joined them. At times it seemed that the world had shrunk to just the three of us.

"...yes," Alice said. "When everyone gets back."

"Good." Arun looked around at nothing in particular. "Until then we'll have to think of as much as we can. We'll share ideas in an hour. The plan has to be good or they won't accept it. Every little thing counts in a crisis."

Alice smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Let me guess. Someone once said that?"

"Yes. I just don't know who."

Alice left in the direction of the cabins, but Arun planted his feet and his spear in the ground firmly. His mouth formed a straight line and his eyes narrowed grimly.

"We're not done," he said.

Oh god, I thought, we don't have time for this now. "We can talk later. The attack is coming."

"Yes, I know. I was there."

"Oh, really? Thank you for confirming that. Don't know how I missed you."

Arun snorted. "Stop being a little shit for once in your life. This is a horrible situation, and you and I still have issues. If the Strangers are about to come after us here... if they're about to try to kill all of us, I need to know that I can trust every single person in the village."

I wanted to tell him that he couldn't trust every person in the village considering that there was still a murderer present, but stopped myself short. That was the point, wasn't it? That he still thought I was the killer?

"You can trust me."

"I want to." He passed his spear from one hand to the other. "But I can't. Not at all."

"I'm not the murderer."

"No, I don't think you are."

That gave me pause. "Then why...?"

Arun sighed uncharacteristically and rubbed his eyes with his free hand, working his fingers back and forth in a gesture of complete exhaustion. That, more than anything, frightened me. In that movement I saw a person pushed beyond his limits, who had committed every part of his being to doing what he cared about most: protecting the people of the village.

"Because I don't like you very much," he admitted, "and the last time I ignored an instinct like that, somebody close to me died. I don't like that all these horrific things started happening the morning after you got here. You might not be the murderer, but I refuse to believe that it's a coincidence."

"I don't like you much, either," I said, "but that doesn't mean we don't have common ground. You can't banish me with the Strangers coming, and I wouldn't go even if you tried."

"On that part, we agree. With what's coming for us you can stay, but it's an open conversation. Your arrival here started some of this. I'm sure of it. You proving yourself in a crisis is the only reason I'm letting you stay now without a fight. But at the first whiff of something I don't like, you're gone."

I could see in Arun's gaze that he hadn't forgotten the fight we had out in the forest, or the fact that I hadn't told Gabriel about it the following morning. But that olive branch wasn't enough to solve this issue - it was merely enough to defer it.

Arun jabbed a finger in my direction as he backed away. "The first whiff of something I don't like..." he repeated.