Vanessa woke to the warmth of sunlight filtering through a modest window. She shielded her eyes, finding the light too bright. As her eyes gradually adjusted, she saw a quaint yard stretching out to meet the water's edge. The room around her was simple, with crème-coloured walls that remained unembellished, save for the essential pieces of furniture—a single bed and a bedside table that accompanied her in solitude.

Sitting up, Vanessa felt her body protest with a cough. She reached for the tissues on the bedside table and noticed the evidence of her illness in the bloodstains. Her lungs ached with each breath, serving as a painful reminder of her ordeal. Although the tremors in her hands had subsided somewhat, weakness still clung to her.

The door opened quietly, and a young woman stepped inside. Her long black hair, tied back in a low ponytail, swayed as she moved purposefully toward Vanessa. Without saying a word, she set a tray by the bedside. The tray held a glass of water and a bowl of soup.

"Our community elder will visit you soon," the young woman said, smiling small and cautious.

"Where am I?" Vanessa asked, her voice raspy.

The young woman's demeanour changed to one of regretful hesitation. "I'm sorry, but I can't share that information with you. You're considered an outsider here. Please try to understand."

As she turned to leave, Vanessa reached out and gently grasped her arm. "How long have I been unconscious?"

The young woman's hesitation was evident; her eyes darted towards the door as if it held some silent warning against speaking too freely. "A few days," she finally confessed.

Vanessa released her grip and watched the woman depart. She should have felt relief at this news, which meant she could proceed with her assignment as planned. However, instead of feeling relieved, she wondered why they hadn't reported her.

Hours later, the door creaked open. A young man stepped inside and placed a plastic chair beside the bed before leaving. Moments later, an older woman entered, walking slowly and carefully with the assistance of a cane. She settled into the chair with deliberate movements, briefly grimacing as she navigated a pang of pain, likely from her hip.

Her grey hair was gathered into a loose ponytail, and her skin showed signs of spending countless hours under the sun. Clearing her throat, she leaned forward, bridging the gap between them with her presence. "My name is Jody," she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority softened by age. "I am the community elder."

"Where am I?" Vanessa asked.

Jody's sharp, assessing eyes held Vanessa's gaze. "Do you want the real name?" she asked slowly. "Or the name they gave this place when they tried to erase our past and restart the nation?"

Vanessa was surprised by how she spoke, unsure if she was being tested or if this place had turned. The role of community elders was to uphold the law and ensure their community's compliance. Yet, Jody's demeanour and veiled comments hinted at a departure.

"I thought you said you were the community elder?" Vanessa questioned.

Jody offered a knowing smile. "Let's not lie to ourselves. You're not here because you lost your way to some office," Jody remarked.

"Why haven't you reported me?"

Jody reached out, hovering her finger over the scar on Vanessa's arm. Vanessa pulled back.

"You are an agent, and your plate is deteriorating," Jody declared with a level of certainty that took Vanessa aback.

"What are you talking—"

Jody raised her hand and shook her head decisively. "This is not up for debate; it's a fact. I may belong to this community, but my knowledge extends beyond its boundaries. Your illness results from a depletion of that crucial element within you. It was irresponsible of them to send you on a mission in such a state."

Vanessa was at a loss for words. Jody's expertise raised more questions than answered, and she realised that denying Jody's assertions would be futile. What she needed right now was understanding and possibly an ally in Jody.

"I, um," Vanessa stammered, "don't know how you know so much."

Jody's fingers twisted together in her lap, a gesture that suggested either contemplation or nervousness. "My son," she began, her voice heavy with sorrow, "would be forty-five today had he lived." A shadow of grief crossed her face, hinting at memories that were both long-buried and ever-present. "Can you walk?" she asked, shifting the focus to Vanessa.

"Walk? Where to?"

"You've been confined to this room for days. A little walk might do you good, and it will give us a chance to talk," Jody suggested. "Do you feel strong enough?"

Vanessa looked at her fingers, noticing their normal appearance—for now. She was aware that this reprieve was only temporary.

Jody slowly rose to her feet, silently struggling against pain as she steadied herself with her cane.

"Jody," Vanessa called out, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, signalling her readiness to follow.

"Let me have someone fetch you fresh clothes before we venture out. I'd like you to see the town."

"I don't want to question your choices, but why aren't you following procedure?"

With a wave of her hand, Jody dismissed the concern. "Aren't agents human too? You've journeyed far; it's only right that you witness life beyond your duties. My son was one of you, and I believe in a life enriched by more than just obligations. And your mission—surely it continues, doesn't it?"

Confusion furrowed Vanessa's brow. "I'm not sure what you mean."

A knowing chuckle escaped Jody as she seized Vanessa's arm, her fingers probing above the wrist, hinting at an unseen truth. "The wound may be healed, but there is clearly a device there. I may be exiled from the city, but my eyes are wide open. Come."

"Jody, wait," Vanessa interjected, a note of hesitation in her voice. "I need to tell you; I've been experiencing hallucinations. I'm not certain it's safe for me to accompany you."

Jody paused and turned to face her, conveying understanding. "I appreciate your honesty. However, as the elder here, I assure you that this is my decision," she replied, her tone leaving no room for further debate.

Dressed in a dark blue top and black shorts, Vanessa stepped outside to join Jody. Despite relying on her cane and the discomfort it caused her, Jody moved with determined grace, embodying strength.

The town unfolded before them, showcasing a quiet, close-knit community. It featured a single road with only a handful of cars parked outside the homes that lined it. Many of these residences were near the water's edge, overlooking a small boats-filled marina. Their presence did not go unnoticed. As they walked by, locals paused to observe the pair, some offering friendly waves.

"We haven't welcomed a visitor in some time, and your arrival has certainly stirred some curiosity," Jody remarked as they continued their leisurely stroll. "There were whispers you might be an enemy spy, coming in off a ship."

Vanessa looked at the peaceful vista before her. "I thought I had made a mistake," she confessed. "From the opposite shore, the town was difficult to spot."

"That's by design," Jody explained with pride. "We employ a camouflage system that is not unlike those used in Government City. Given our position along the waterway, we're particularly vulnerable."

"This place must have faced many challenges at the war's outset."

"Indeed. We withstood attempts by the enemy to land and use the highway, even to destroy the bridge. Those were dark times, but now, such threats are rare." She paused, then looked directly at Vanessa. "But tell me, what is your name?"

Vanessa hesitated, aware of the delicate balance. To Jody, she was still an agent on assignment. "411," Vanessa replied, the number feeling alien even as it left her lips.

Jody's response was swift and unexpected. Her cane came down sharply against Vanessa's leg, a reprimand not just for the answer but for the identity it represented. Vanessa recoiled, more from shock than pain. "Child, you are a human being, not a number."

There was a moment of silence, a bridge between two realities. "Vanessa," she said at last, her own name sounding like a declaration in the wake of Jody's lesson.

"Good girl. Now," Jody began, her tone shifting as they arrived at a cluster of small shops marking the town's centre. "Where were you coming from?"

The question lodged in Vanessa's throat, rendering her momentarily silent. The vast distance separating this community from others loomed large, and Vanessa knew the truth of her journey would stretch believability too thin.

Jody stopped and turned to face her, her gaze sharpening with an intensity that demanded honesty. "Were you on a boat?"

Vanessa shook her head. "I was returning from the north. Have you seen the news about it?"

"We do not prescribe to media here. It might come as a shock to someone in your line of work, but we've learned to question the reliability of those channels. By forgoing phones and media, we've cultivated a serene life where the shadow of war barely reaches our children."

Vanessa had never heard of a community that was allowed to take such measures. Control required access, and if this was the case, it was possible that the learnings of the government were far from the young minds of this community.

"I was on a train that came under enemy attack."

Jody leaned heavily on her cane, her face etched with thoughtfulness. "The enemy? Haven't seen an enemy attack in years."

"But without media, how would you stay informed of attacks?"

"And where exactly did this supposed attack happen?" Jody questioned.

Jody's demeanour shifted from a seemingly benevolent elder into a potential adversary. It was peculiar that Jody seemed untethered from Windfield's influence, an anomaly that had surprisingly gone unnoticed.

Vanessa hesitated. "I can't claim to know every location outside the city well."

Jody eyed her critically. "You seem remarkably well for someone who's survived an enemy attack, aside from your current illness."

Without saying another word, she led Vanessa to a café located in the heart of the town. Once inside, Jody pointed to a table by the window before placing her order with a young woman at the counter. "Amanda, could we have two coffees and a slice of banana bread, please?" Jody then took her seat across from Vanessa.

Despite her nausea, Vanessa didn't dare refuse. Jody's presence exuded a maternal authority that was hard to resist, making the offer of food and drink seem more like an unspoken command than a gentle invitation.

Jody leaned in. "So, what exactly happened with the train, Vanessa?"

"There was an explosion."

As Amanda placed the plates of banana bread on the table, her smile was tinged with uncertainty, picking up on the tension.

"Enjoy Amanda's homemade bread," Jody interjected, giving Amanda's arm a reassuring squeeze in silent thanks. "If the train line has been destroyed, this may be your last chance to taste banana in a while."

Caught off guard, Amanda's brows furrowed in concern. "There was an attack?" Her voice was gentle.

Jody nodded towards Vanessa, inviting her to share. "Our guest was caught up in the incident. Vanessa, can you shed more light on how you ended up here?"

"I appreciate how accommodating you've been, but I apologise, I can't discuss it."

"Would you prefer we reported you?" Jody's question hung in the air.

Amanda's eyes went wide with shock at this, and she hastened back to the counter.

Vanessa's shoulders slumped. "Many died," she confessed. "I'd rather not revisit those memories, especially when my mind has been deceiving me."

Amanda returned, setting down the coffees with a gentle clink.

Jody continued, "Tell me, who are you running from?"

"I'm trying to get back to Windfield."

Jody responded with an expression that bordered on a challenge. "Then ask me to report you. You need AMNA, and if I alert the authorities, the military will swoop in, ensuring Madicorp replenishes your reserves without delay."

Vanessa's weariness grew heavier with each question from Jody. She was in a difficult position, torn between the need to protect her secrets and the risk that Jody might cooperate with the authorities if she seemed too evasive.

A deep breath triggered a harsh coughing fit, betraying her deteriorating condition as she hastily covered her mouth with a napkin to hide the blood.

"Thank you, Amanda," Jody said as Amanda retreated behind the counter. "Eat," she then urged Vanessa while taking a moment to enjoy her coffee.

"I can't."

"Vanessa, eat," Jody pressed, her voice adopting a firmer note. "My son was much like you, perhaps not of the same generation, but I've dealt with similar situations. Believe me, I understand more than you realise."

Vanessa broke off a piece of the banana bread, eating it gingerly to avoid further irritation to her throat. Despite Amanda's evident skill in the kitchen, accepting the kindness felt difficult.

Jody took a leisurely sip of her coffee, her demeanour softening. "You can stay here for as long as you need," she offered.

Something did not feel right.

"Thank you, but I need to head back to Windfield."

"No, that's out of the question. You are not well," Jody said as she cut up her banana bread.

"I'm on assignment. I have to return. I can get medical assistance in the city. That's why I came here; I was hoping there might be a medical centre."

Jody savoured her banana bread, pausing thoughtfully before speaking. "There's nothing here that can aid you. You will stay here and rest. It is an order."

Vanessa's discomfort grew as she recognised that she had stumbled into a potentially dangerous situation. The events unfolding around her raised unsettling doubts about the true motives behind the community's seemingly hospitable facade. The urgency to escape intensified, but her weakened state left her uncertain about how to do so.

****

The next morning, Vanessa woke to a gust of wind flushing through the room. She turned to the window, surprised to see it had been broken. A small branch on the carpet was the likely culprit. The concerning thing was that she had slept so heavily that she hadn't even heard it.

She left the bed and walked to the door, but as her hand hovered over the handle, she wondered if it was locked. When she turned the knob, the door opened, revealing a small kitchen. A young man was engrossed in a worn-out book at a square, old wooden dining table. He looked up at her; he appeared to be in his late teens, someone who should have been in school.

"Jody said she'd be by to visit this afternoon, but she said you're allowed in the kitchen and the patio," the young man pointed to an old screen door that led outside.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Jody said it's best you keep your questions for her, but if you need anything, I'll help you the best I can."

Their words had been welcoming, but there was something behind these barriers Jody was creating that Vanessa was not blind to.

"The window is broken."

He slammed the book shut, placing it on the table. "Oh shit, probably the storm last night. There was a tree down on the road this morning." He stood up and moved past her, surveying the damage. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I didn't hear it."

"You didn't hear the lightning? Hit so close I think it woke the whole town."

Vanessa shook her head.

"Well, there's some fruit on the table. I'll get someone to fix this window. There's meant to be more rain on the way, so better not leave it."

The young man left, and to Vanessa's surprise, she found herself alone. She quickly explored the old fibro house but didn't find anything unusual. There was a lounge room and a few bedrooms, all furnished but lacking personal belongings.

In the small bathroom, Vanessa looked in the mirror for the first time since Bradfield Park. The bruise on her cheek had faded, and most of her superficial injuries were healing. She lifted her shirt to check the wound on her chest, noticing that it was also healing quickly. Although the virus was working against her, it seemed her accelerated healing abilities were still strong. She wondered if this was why she was experiencing bouts of strength. Her body was healing enough to help her keep going, but the virus was powerful enough to continue pulling her back down.

With nothing else to do, she took an apple and walked out onto the patio, sitting on a worn plastic chair. The backyard was set close to the water, an old tree shading the yard, probably the same tree that had broken the window.

It wasn't long before she heard the front door close and footsteps through the house. She threw the apple core towards the water and headed back inside.

"Are you also forbidden from telling me your name?" Vanessa asked an older man as he set a bag of tools on the table.

The man glanced at the teenager, looking confused. "Brian." Brian had a dark tan and appeared relatively fit. He had medium-length brown hair that looked unkempt.

The teenager nudged him. "Jody told us not to."

"This is not a prison. Go back to class. I'll take care of this," Brian said as he opened his tool bag. "I'm sorry about this. I don't know what she's thinking."

"That's ok. I thought knowing those who have helped me by name would be polite." Vanessa watched as Brian fished through the bag, noticing a radio. "What's your role here?" she asked, smiling.

He placed a few tools on the table and paused at the radio. "Ah, you got me."

"From my conversation with Jody yesterday, I was under the impression she wasn't supportive of the town having access to that type of thing."

"I'm the town's police, but nothing ever happens here. Jody decided it was best if I doubled as a carpenter."

Vanessa crossed her arms, worried by what she was hearing. "And what did you think of my arrival?"

"Listen, I'm here to fix the window. I don't want to start anything."

Vanessa sensed his unease, yet something about him suggested he might be willing to open up. "Can I help?"

He shook his head, surprised by the offer. "They told me you're unwell. Probably best you sit down and rest."

"The illness comes and goes. I think I can help you fix a window."

"No offence, but it will probably be easier to do on my own. I don't have time to be teaching anyone..."

"No one said anything about teaching. You do realise what I am?"

"Firing a gun and fixing a window are two very different skills," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He moved to the kitchen cabinet and filled a glass with water.

"That's certainly true," she replied.

Brian quickly drank the water and placed the empty glass in the sink.

"You and I both know that being out of touch with what's happening in the city isn't in anyone's best interest," she continued.

"Fine, but don't tell Jody," he replied.

Vanessa followed Brian's instructions and helped him remove the broken window and replace it with a new one. She worked to build trust with him, encouraging him to talk about his gardening, a passion she had discovered during their conversation.

Once they finished, they sat together at the dining table, each with a glass of water.

"Much easier with a second person," Brian commented.

Vanessa chuckled at his way of saying thanks. "Do you still use the radio?"

He scratched his head, drinking half a glass of water before responding. "If someone from the city is coming for inspection, I have to be ready." His response didn't sound natural.

"Of course."

"But, please, don't mention anything to Jody."

"Doesn't it worry you? If the city sends someone in to check on things, and she's banned media, aren't you worried how that will look?"

Brian scratched the nape of his neck, the collar covered in sweat. "They haven't come in years. Maybe they've forgotten about us."

Either he was lying, or something more sinister was happening with this community. Inspectors visited several times annually, an important control measure to ensure rebel influence had not breached the communities.

"You take them produce, and from what I've seen, you have fruit from the north, which means you have not been forgotten."

"Jody controls the town..."

Vanessa interrupted. "That's not how things work, and you have been around long enough to have seen what happens to those who stray. I'm not trying to scare you, and I'm not a threat, but you know this path she's taking you on is dangerous."

Brian snapped. "She saved your life."

"Brian, I need to get back to Windfield. Is it possible for me to leave?"

Brian stood up, collecting the glasses and putting them in the sink, a strange gesture considering neither had finished. "Jody has told the town you are to stay."

"Until when? Brian, I am on assignment. Did she tell you that? I need to go back."

Brian began to pace between the door and the sink. "I can't say."

Vanessa sensed that there was more to the situation, and upon seeing Brian's growing discomfort, she pressed him. "You know something. Why don't we take that radio and call for help? Do the right thing and report my position."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but we can't. This illness you have is just like her son's. He didn't make it."

Worried by what he had said, she pressed harder. "What are you talking about?"

"Jody's son came here and was sick, like you. She wants to let you live out your days in freedom. After it happens, we'll make the call to the city."

"You mean after I am dead?" Vanessa couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Brian, her son, would've been a first or second-generation agent. This situation is not the same."

"It's not my choice. I'm sorry." He picked up his tool bag, his emotions caught between fear, worry and sorrow.

Vanessa stood. "Brian. Do you know what happens to this town if she does this? Let me go. If I leave, you continue as if I was never here. They are already looking for me, and eventually, their search will lead them here. What happens when they start to uncover all Jody's deviations?"

"I can't talk about this. You can ask her when you see her," he said and then left.

Vanessa sat back down, her chest aching from her stress. Laura's town had been transformed because of one family. This town had completely gone off the rails, and all she could hear was what Director Wilcox's orders would be. To make matters worse, Jody believed she was offering Vanessa freedom, but in reality, Jody was preventing her from accessing the medications that could save her life.