Misplaced 5, part 5.

Ruth was the first to return to the makshift camp among the boulders, with a bundle of firewood and some water. She put her load down beside the fireplace. Carefully she built a fire, lit it, and put the water on to heat. She pulled some of Patrick’s ‘tea’ leaves, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, from her pocket and brewed it with the boiled water, and then took it over to the other Ruth. Claire was asleep on the far side of the fire.


“Here,” Ruth said. “It’s tea. Sort of.”

“Thanks,” the other Ruth said. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to say. The Ruth of this universe tried to sit up to drink the tea more easily, but slumped back and her face creased up for a moment in pain..

“Can I help at all?” Ruth asked her, feeling helpless. The other Ruth shook her head.

“I’ll be ok. Sorry.”

“Not at all,” Ruth replied awkwardly. “It looks pretty bad,” she said, looking at the makeshift bandages.

“It’s starting to heal,” the other Ruth replied. “I was worried about infection, but I think it’ll be ok.”

“But it’s still pretty painful?” Ruth asked.

“Yes,” the other Ruth replied, looking down. “I didn’t want the others to know, but I’m not very brave. I must have seemed pathetic.”

“I don’t think that’s the only pain you’ve got, either,” Ruth said quietly. The other Ruth looked at her.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Because you’re like me. And if I was in your situation- I’d be worried and afraid- I am anyway, but it seems to have been so much worse for you- not only for myself but for my friends. I’d feel guilty that other people were having to work harder to find extra food and support me, and that the group has fallen out- which I know I’d feel was my fault- and that’s made life harder for my friends- and might mean the difference between life and death. And I’d mourn for those who had died, and be afraid for the people who had just disappeared, like Pat, and afraid that they’d already become victims of the Creature. And I think that this pain of the heart would be every bit as bad as the pain from those physical wounds.”

The other Ruth looked at her, surprised, but also relieved that someone understood. “Yes,” she said. “You’re right.”

“You might say you’re not very brave,” Ruth said. “But I think I’d go completely to pieces if I were in your situation. You’re better than you think. I wish I could help you, take your pain away.”

“I feel like I have gone to pieces,” the other Ruth said. “I wish I could have done more to help the others, not just lie here and moan. And- well I don’t really know how all this works, alternate dimensions and stuff, I don’t know how much we are the same- but from what I can tell- you wouldn’t do worse than me. You had the courage to come and find us. And that already has helped a lot. I don’t feel so scared now.” Ruth looked at the fire, thinking of her friends who had turned back.

“I suppose so,” she said. She remembered something she had noticed when she first met this other Ruth.

“You didn’t seem as surprised as the others when we arrived,” she said. The other Ruth went quiet.

“It sounds so strange to say,” she said eventually. “But I wasn’t. Somehow...well, I’d been having these...dreams. I thought it was just because I was ill, or traumatised, or something, but they seemed so real...”

“I know,” Ruth said. “I’ve had them too.”

“You have?”

“I dreamed about the crash, not as I experienced it but as you did. I dreamed about the accident where x was killed- in my world no one was hurt, although it was close. And I dreamed about the attack where you were injured. When we first met the others and found that your plane crash had been like my dream, I was scared. It was all coming true. I thought you had been killed.” The other Ruth looked at her.

“Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had,” she said. Ruth reached out and took her hand, not knowing what to say.

“What did you dream about?” she asked eventually.

“The same things, but from your point of view,” the other Ruth said. “But it didn’t make any sense. I thought it was stress, reaction to the crash, but even then it didn’t really make sense until you arrived today.” She looked at the fire and sipped her tea. “There’s one other dream that I still don’t understand,” she said, not looking up. “It doesn’t match up to anything you’ve said has happened to you.”

“What was it about?” Ruth asked.

“It was last night that I dreamt it. It wasn’t very clear- it looked like I- or you- had been captured by the others- by the people I used to call friends- Kath, Emma, Ernest and the others. And I was in pain- although that might just have been my wounds- and they were asking me questions and I was trying not to tell them something. I don’t know what. It wasn’t pleasant. But I don’t understand. Nothing like that’s happened to you, has it?”

“No,” Ruth said. “Maybe that was just a dream. I mean, if your dreams have been about me, then that one should be to, but my friends haven’t done that- they wouldn’t, I’m sure they wouldn’t.” But although she said she was sure, there was some doubt in her mind as she remembered the way they had turned back and left her small group to search for survivors.

As if on cue, Nick came into sight. He had been back through to the others, to tell them what had happened and fetch some tools and supplies.

“Didn’t any of the others come with you?” Ruth asked him.

“No,” he said. “They wouldn’t come. We’re on our own.”
 
 
The story continues...