“How the hell do you know about that? Have you been talking to David? I swear to God if you hurt him…”
“David doesn’t know any more than what you tell him, what little you do tell him. He still believes you, by the way. He believes that he simply “forgot” that you were assigned to a secondment on the other side of the world. Clever detail, that. Positively devious. I couldn’t have done it better myself, but something tells me you’re not too proud of it. And anyway, I wouldn’t hurt a fly. Can we skip this part? I know everything about you. That’s all you need to know about me.”
“This is bullshit. You’re just trying to scare me.”
“Is it working?”
“If you’re not Zoe, then who are you?”
“It’s not important.”
“Why are you doing all this? Why can’t you leave people alone?”
“I don’t know.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.”
“Have I ever lied to you? I don’t bother trying to explain it. A need just is what it is. I can’t stop. I can’t slow down. That should sound familiar, eh? I don’t know why I am the way I am any more than you do.” Her tone never wavered from the smooth, agreeable voice of a public announcement.
Emma fixed her eyes on the ground at Zoe’s feet. Zoe stepped closer, into her field of vision.
“Were you expecting something more satisfying? Sorry if our little encounter isn’t the pistols at ten paces you were hoping for. I know it’s harder this way. Like being trapped in a room with no doors. You know how that feels, too, don’t you?”
Emma didn’t look at her.
“That was a rhetorical question anyway. Oh, look at you. Not so sure of yourself now. That’s too bad.” Zoe paused. “There’s only one way out of this mess you’ve made, you know.”
“What did you say?”
“There is always a way off this island, a way to absolve yourself of all the guilt you carry around. A way to never feel lonely again.”
“I'm not lonely.”
“Please don’t play that game. I know what you know, remember?”
The steady rustle of leaves in the wind stopped, leaving Emma with the sound of blood pulsing through her ears.
She tried to think. “Did you kill Evan? And try to kill Ned?”
“I never touched them. They decided it was time to leave. Just like you will, sooner or later. And when you do, I will move on.”
“Through me... to someone close to me. Like you did with Ned’s friend and now Zoe.”
“She gets it!”
“Like some sick game.”
“Nothing of the sort. It’s easier to snuggle into people who are in a certain state of mind, that’s all.”
“What happens to Zoe?”
“She’ll be fine. Stop torturing yourself with all this worry. Everything will be alright once it’s done. The details don’t matter. I don't want to see you go on in such pain. You hate yourself so much you have to pretend to hate other people more. You're not good enough, and everybody knows it. Why go round and round in circles about it? I know exactly where you're going, but you still deny it. You keep your eyes on the path in front of you. Maybe you don't look up because you'll see something you don't want to see?”
“Fuck you.”
“Quality intimidation tactics! Nothing else to say? Are we going to try the put-upon police officer routine again? You do go to a lot of trouble pretending, for someone who brought this all on herself.”
“It's not my fault.”
“What's not? You think you're doing a good job, then? Or maybe you're having an off year. You'll do better once you put the husband in a home, is that it?”
Emma opened her mouth. A second passed, then another. Zoe turned around and walked back the way they had come.
“I'll be seeing you, Copper. Soon, I hope.”
Emma made no attempt to follow her. She stared into the impenetrable tangle of branches and twigs at eye level, looking at nothing, listening to nothing. Besides the slight rattling of branches there was no sound to hear, and no sign of anyone nearby. She could have been the only human being on the island.
She sat down on the exposed and braided roots, as if she were being pressed into the ground by a weight too heavy to bear, and did not notice the passage of time until the angle of the sun cast deep shadows across The Culley, and the sky over the ocean turned deep red.
The chance to talk to Steve had passed. He would be fine. The walk back to the station was difficult enough with the light failing. Emma moved by muscle memory until she found herself back on the hill next to the humming generator. There was no light on inside. Inside the building there were more humming sounds from ancient equipment and the whistle of wind on corrugated metal. A streak of mud still covered a corner of the table. She brushed at it absentmindedly, only to spread it further.
More time must have passed, because it was fully dark when she noticed the light in the window.
A faint glow in the fog came through the sole window cut into the station wall. It was too late to be the last light of sunset. It was faint, visible in wisps when a thick patch of the ever-present fog rolled past the window.
Moving closer to see through the window at an angle, Emma could see the light was coming from the wrong direction. It pointed inland, not west to the village and the sea. She pressed her face against the wall to see as far up the slope as possible. In the distance there was a flicker of yellow light. The bonfire.
Emma mumbled to herself. “Lets you focus on what you ought to do next.” She didn’t want to imagine what horrors stalked her in a dark room alone. After the resistance in her tired bones was overcome, she was out in the open air.
