“It’s perfectly normal. Your reactions are typical for a Wildling.”
“Wildling?”
“It’s a legal term for a nationless individual, like yourself.”
“They should come up with a better word.”
He rubs his eyes, as if to say he’s been through a thousand conversations like this and doesn’t have much patience for doing it yet again with me. “I’ll be sure to pass your complaints along. But if you could please sit down?This process will be far more successful for you and your sister if you cooperate. I’m here to help you.”
“Sure.”
“The border guard gave me your basic information. You and your sister are seeking sanctuary?”
“Sure.”
“A definitive yes or no would be more useful,” he says. “Andplease. Sit down.”
I could take Tom Sullivan in a fight. I’m sure of it. But I’m not sure what the point would be when I’m already stuck on this damn island. Plus, there’s April. Despite my misgivings, one thing he said rings true. If I want them to heal her, I need to play along. We can worry about escaping once she’s better.
Tom looks oddly pleased when I finally pull out the chair and slide into my seat. “Wonderful. The guard markedhospitalas one of the purposes of your visit. Am I right in assuming that’s the reason you’re seeking sanctuary?”
“Sure—I mean, yes.”
“Well, we all start somewhere.” He makes a few more notes. “I have given names for you and your sister. Do you have any family names or previous affiliations?”
“You mean a last name, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Hollins. Kayla and April Hollins.”
“Any other living family?”
“No.”
“Sorry to hear that. If you know your parents’ names, we like to record those details, too. Sometimes we’re able to link up missing family members or—”
“No one is going to link up with us. They’re dead.”
“Even so—”
“I saw their bodies.”
He looks up from the forms, a sad smile on his face.“Again, my condolences. But perhaps they had friends or other relations? Please, Ms. Hollins.”
I seriously consider stonewalling him. My dead aren’t his business. But the mention of friends has made me wonder if someone we knew back in Port Alberni might have ended up here after TNS sacked the settlement. “Andy Hollins and Genevieve Laclerc.”
“Wonderful. Now, I understand if you don’t have all the information regarding my next questions. But do you know your and your sister’s birthdates and birthplaces?”
“I’m twenty-five. Born in Port Alberni. Septemberish, I think.”
“Ah. Happy birthday to you, then.”
“Oh… thanks?” Shit, is it September? Am I twenty-six? It doesn’t matter. I press on. “April is about fifteen. Born in, well… spring. We didn’t really know, because—”
“Yes, that would be after Port Alberni fell. Sad day, that.”
It’s strange, hearing him talk casually about the day any semblance of safety was ripped from my life. I’m more comfortable saying nothing about it at all, and since April has no memories of the place, I can usually get away with that. Unfortunately, this guy is old enough to know the post-Quake history of the region.
