Tabitha by Andrew Hall Page A

feeling back into them. She felt exhausted. It was hard to
believe that all of this had happened in one day. Home felt like a week ago.
    ‘Sorry, I’m not
much good at conversation,’ she said. ‘Not today.’
    ‘Don’t worry,’
the woman replied. ‘Just rest for a bit. I imagine you’ve been through rather a
lot recently.’
    ‘Are you a
doctor?’ said Tabitha, looking around at the clutter in the gloom. There were
boxes of tablets, plastic syringes. Empty body bags.
    ‘I am,’ the
woman replied. ‘Part of the ill-fated relief
effort . Army field hospital, essentially. We got here just in time to
get massacred,’ she sighed sadly. ‘So, we made a run for this cellar. Pure luck
that we found the place.’
    ‘There’s a few
of you?’
    ‘There were,
yes,’ the woman replied. ‘Not now.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’
said Tabitha.
    ‘So am I,’ the woman
sighed. ‘No offense to your town, but we should never have come here.’ Tabitha
smiled sadly. ‘I’m Jane, by the way.’
    ‘Tabitha,’
Tabitha replied.
    ‘Well, it’s good
to see someone actually make it in here alive,’ said Jane. ‘I’d given up hope,
truth be told.’
    ‘Are we safe in
here?’ said Tabitha. The spiders still scratched on the metal shutter outside.
    ‘Perfectly
safe,’ Jane said with a smile. ‘Do you need some more water? I’ve got plenty
here.’
    ‘No thanks,’
Tabitha replied. ‘I feel really weak though. Do you have any food?’
    ‘I do,’ said
Jane, walking over with a bottle of antiseptic. ‘But first things first. You
look like you’re in shock. Are you hurt anywhere? Did they cut you at all?’
    ‘No, just grazes
from the pavement,’ Tabitha lied, looking for wounds. It was just easier not to
explain her disappearing wounds. She’d felt the sting of the pavement graze her
side when she slid in through the window, though it seemed to have healed up
already.
    ‘Well, I don’t
see anything.’ said Jane, putting the antiseptic back down on the dusty old
pool table. ‘Any dizziness, any blurred vision?’
    ‘No,’ Tabitha
lied again. She didn’t want to trust her alien changes into the hands of a
military doctor. She’d seen too many movies where they wanted nothing more than
to catch the peculiar and cut it open. She hid her hands down by her sides.
    ‘I can’t feel
much of a pulse,’ said Jane, pressing her fingers against Tabitha’s neck.
Tabitha said nothing about her new heart. ‘And you’re sure you’ve not come to
any kind of harm, the last few days?’ said Jane.
    ‘Got lucky, I
suppose,’ Tabitha replied with a shrug. The less she said, the better.
    ‘How are your
boots?’ said Jane, standing up.
    ‘Fine, I think,’
Tabitha replied, looking over them as she sat up on the flattened boxes.
    ‘Well, do you
think, or do you know?’ Jane replied, with a bossy tone. ‘Check the backs.
Those monsters were right on your heels.’
    ‘Why does it
matter?’ Tabitha replied, pulling her feet closer to inspect the back of her
boots.
    ‘Because if your
boots come apart you’ll end up running barefoot at some point,’ Jane warned
her. ‘And unless you’ve got some very impressive callousing on the soles of
your feet, you’ll get caught out. And end up like those skins outside.’ Jane
fixed her with a matriarch stare. ‘ Always look after your boots.’
    ‘Alright,’
Tabitha protested, reminded suddenly of her mum’s nagging. The thought of her
mum stung, and a fresh tide of disbelief washed through her. Jane wandered off
to move some boxes from the corner.
    ‘Let’s have some
light in here, shall we?’ said Jane. Tabitha staggered to her feet and watched
Jane rummaging around in a box. She produced a pair of old oil lanterns, and
lit them with a cigarette lighter.
    ‘Luckily there
are still some people who believe in the practical worth of antiques,’ said
Jane, putting the lanterns down on the pool table. ‘I’ve had these for years.’
    ‘How did you get
in here?’ said