The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 2: Books 4 - 6 (Ashes, Eden Rising, & Dream Sky)

by Brett Battles

  “All right. I’ll come back in a few hours to see how you’re doing.”

  “If I’m asleep, don’t wake me up!” Dominic admonished him.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  With a wave, Robert headed back to the resort. For the first time since discovering the boat, he felt okay. He was sure now that Dominic would be fine.

  Thank God.

  DOMINIC WATCHED HIS friend disappear into the jungle, then waited another minute to be sure he was gone. Satisfied he was alone, he glanced behind the rock where he’d been when Robert had shown up.

  Contrary to the impression he’d given his friend, he hadn’t been relieving himself or taking a crap. He’d been throwing up, and not for the first time.

  The pains had come on right before dawn. Not only in his stomach, but in his chest and neck, too. Surprisingly, he wasn’t experiencing the congestion they’d talked about on TV, but there was no question in his mind that this was the flu. Maybe it changed from person to person. He knew other diseases could hit one person one way and someone else another.

  It didn’t really matter. What did, though, was the fact that he knew now he was going to die. What he needed to figure out was how to do it without harming anyone else.

  Dying on the beach was a problem. The same birds he’d pretended to be worried about stealing the omelet could pluck away at him, and carry some of his diseased flesh back to the resort.

  And swimming out to sea? He didn’t know if he was strong enough to get to a point where the currents wouldn’t pull him back to the island.

  Someone else might not have cared, but he was the manager. The safety of the guests was his responsibility, even if it meant protecting them from him.

  So how the hell was he going to do that?

  As he tried to come up with a solution, his stomach clenched again.

  Twenty-Seven

  RIDGECREST, CALIFORNIA

  8:10 AM PST

  THE KNOCK ON the door was loud and unwanted.

  Martina pulled the spare pillow over her head, and turned so that her back was to the noise.

  Another knock. “Hey, Martina. Wake up.”

  “Who’s that?” Riley asked sleepily from the other bed.

  Martina glanced at the clock and groaned. A few minutes after eight. Only five hours since she’d fallen asleep. She flopped onto her back and yelled, “Just a minute!”

  The evening before, she and her former teammates had decided that staying together made a lot more sense than going their separate ways every night. So, after Martina picked up Riley, they had all gone over to the Carriage Inn and taken rooms.

  They’d ended up talking into the wee hours of the night, which was why she hadn’t planned on getting out of bed until noon.

  She sighed as she stood, and shuffled over to the door. Sunlight poured in the moment she cracked it open. She blinked several times and finally settled on a squint so she could see who thought waking her was a good idea.

  It was Noreen. She was dressed and looked anxious.

  “What’s going on?” Martina asked.

  “I heard a car.”

  “What?” Martina said, not quite understanding the significance.

  “I heard a car. Sounded like it was racing. You know, really loud. It was—” She pointed to the south. “That way.”

  “So what?”

  “Martina! A car! Not one of ours. I’m the only one up.”

  Martina looked out at the parking lot. All her friends’ cars were still there. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did you hear it?”

  “Five minutes ago. Tires squealing and everything.”

  “Hold on.”

  Alert now, Martina closed the door.

  “What’s going on?” Riley asked.

  Martina went over to her clothes and pulled on her jeans. “Noreen thinks she heard a car.”

  “Seriously?”

  “We’re going to check it out.”

  “Can I come?”

  “How you feeling?”

  Riley considered the question. “Still a little stuffy, but my throat’s better, and I don’t feel as tired.”

  “All right. Hurry up.”

  By the time Martina finished dressing and using the bathroom, Riley was ready to go.

  They decided to take Noreen’s car. Though the morning was cool, they kept their windows down so they could listen for the other vehicle.

  “It had to have been somewhere in this area,” Noreen said as they passed the police station. “I’m sure of it.”

  “I don’t hear anything,” Riley said from the backseat.

  “Me, either,” Martina chimed in.

  Noreen looked both frustrated and disappointed. “I know it was a car.”

  “I believe you,” Martina said. “It’s just not here now.”

  As they continued down China Lake Boulevard, they scanned the parking lots and side streets, looking for any signs of movement, but there was none.

  They passed Ridgecrest Boulevard, Carl’s Jr., and finally Walmart, where the road took a gentle curve to the west along the southern edge of town.

  Noreen pulled her car to the side of the road. “It must be gone,” she said, defeated.

  “It’s okay. I’m sure we’ll hear it again,” Martina said, though she was beginning to wonder if her friend had dreamt the noise.

  Noreen pulled a U-turn and headed back into town.

  As they were nearing Ridgecrest Boulevard again, Martina said, “Let’s make a stop at CVS. Pick up some drinks and snacks. I’m buying.”

  Though no one laughed, Noreen did crack a smile.

  “Maybe they’ll have a container of Pringles. Barbecue favor,” Riley said. “I love—watch out!”

  Riley screamed the last part as a shiny, black Ford Mustang roared into the intersection directly in front of them. Noreen slammed on the brakes while Martina instinctively braced herself against the dash.

  They all watched as the other car raced across their path, barely getting out of the way before they skidded behind it. The driver of the other vehicle, his face turned toward them, looked as surprised to see them as they were to see him.

  The moment they were out of each other’s way, the Mustang began to swerve. The driver tried to compensate by cutting sharply to the left. He overcompensated and his tires lost their hold on the road. The car flipped up then over and over and over, coming to rest back on its wheels partially in the entrance to the Denny’s parking lot.

  “Oh, my God!” Riley said.

  Martina threw her door open and raced down the asphalt toward the other car.

  The roof was crushed halfway down, the safety glass of the windshield an ocean of cracks. The rest of the car was dented and twisted.

  She reached the driver’s door and looked in. The airbags had deployed and now lay deflated over the steering wheel and across the door. The driver was slumped to the right.

  She jerked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t open.

  “Hey! Hey, are you all right?” she yelled.

  The guy didn’t move.

  As she circled around to the other side, she saw Riley and Noreen running over. The passenger door was also jammed.

  “The windshield,” Riley said, pointing.

  Martina looked at the front window. The upper corner nearest her was out of the frame. She climbed up onto the hood and kicked down on the glass. It moved. After several more stomps, there was enough of a gap to allow her to pass inside.

  The driver still hadn’t moved.

  “Hey,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

  No response.

  She hesitated, unsure what to do. If he’d broken his back, she knew she shouldn’t move him. Then again, if he had broken his back, would he have to stay in the car forever?

  She said a silent prayer, hoping she wouldn’t hurt him, and then pushed him into sitting position. When the Mustang had driven by them, Mar
tina had only had time to register the driver’s surprise, but not get a good look at him. She’d assumed he was an adult, but the guy she was looking at couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.

  She tried to check his pulse, but he tensed and jerked his hand away as he groaned.

  At least he was alive, but there was something definitely wrong with his wrist.

  She grabbed his chin and wiggled it back and forth. “Wake up. We’ve got to get you out of here.”

  Another groan, then a wince as his eyes parted.

  “Good,” she said. “You’re with me, right?”

  She wasn’t sure if he was moaning or saying yes, so she decided to assume it was the latter.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Cra…”

  She waited.

  “Craig,” he whispered.

  “Okay, Craig. Can you move your legs?”

  Another wince. “I don’t know.”

  “Give it a try.”

  She watched as each of his thighs moved up and down.

  “Excellent. I’m going to undo your seatbelt. Then you and I are going to crawl through the window.”

  He looked dubious.

  “It’s the only way out,” she told him. “Are you ready?”

  A nod.

  She held on to him with one hand in case he lost his balance, and unbuckled his belt with the other.

  “Noreen!” she shouted. “Get up on the hood, and help him out the window. But watch out for his right wrist.” She focused back on Craig. “We need to switch seats.” She glanced into the back of the car, thinking she might be able to move there and get out of his way, but the roof was crushed too far down. “I’m going to have to crawl over the top of you while you shift over here. You can do that, right?”

  “I think so.”

  The transfer was awkward, and not without pain on Craig’s part, but successful.

  “Now through the window,” she said.

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “It’s either that or stay in here the rest of your life, because I’m pretty sure the fire department’s not coming.”

  He seemed to actually be considering the choice.

  “Come on. Let’s go,” she said as she gently pushed his shoulder.

  With reluctance, he leaned over the dash and stuck his head through the window.

  “Let me help you,” Noreen said, outside.

  Working from either end, the two girls maneuvered Craig out of the car. As soon as he was clear, Martina followed.

  “Let me take a look at that wrist,” Martina said.

  He gingerly held out his right arm.

  After she pushed back the sleeve of his sweater, she nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s broken.” Though no bones were sticking out of the skin, the arm was already bruised.

  “Hurt anywhere else?”

  “Everywhere else,” he said.

  “Achy painy or really hurt?”

  He shrugged. “Achy painy, I guess.”

  “All right. We should wrap up that wrist. Come on.”

  As they walked back to Noreen’s car, Martina asked, “Tell me, hotshot. How long have you had your license?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “Well, you did nearly kill us, so that gives me the right to know.”

  “I’ve had it long enough.”

  She smirked. “Wasn’t your car, was it?”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  “It looked pretty new to me.”

  Looking guilty, he said, “No one else was going to use it.”

  She rolled her eyes, and opened the passenger door of the car. “Get in.”

  Before Riley could get in on her side, Martina said, “Do you know him?”

  A shrug. “I’ve seen him around, I think.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And why are you acting like you don’t like him?” she asked, because that was exactly what Riley had been doing since they’d pulled Craig out.

  Her friend shrugged. “No reason.”

  “Uh-huh,” Martina said, unconvinced.

  “You guys getting in or not?” Noreen called from the driver’s seat.

  Riley opened the back door and got in, but kept as much distance between herself and Craig as she could. He didn’t even seem to notice her. That’s when the truth dawned on Martina. It wasn’t that Riley didn’t like Craig. It was the opposite.

  The realization made her think of her own boyfriend. If she had survived the flu, Ben must have, too. He’d also lived through the original Sage Flu outbreak, after all. That was how they’d met.

  She wondered where he was.

  She wondered how he was doing.

  But most of all, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

  “Martina, let’s go!”

  CRAIG’S APPEARANCE MADE the girls curious how many others were still alive. They decided to split up and drive through town, honking their horns and making as much noise as possible to see if anyone else came out.

  Martina also drove by Coach Driscoll’s house because she should have been immune, too, but no one was home. That made sense, though. Coach usually went back east for the holidays.

  Sadly, when they regrouped two hours later, the only people anyone had seen were a handful of the sick still strong enough to look out a window.

  “How long until you think they’re all dead?” Ruby Gryting asked.

  “A few days, maybe a week,” Martina said.

  “And then what?” Jilly asked.

  When no one seemed to have an answer for that, Craig raised his unbroken arm.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Martina told him. “Just say what’s on your mind.”

  He lowered his arm. “Sorry.”

  “What did you want to say?”

  “Um, well, I think that what we do next, well, we should look for others who are still alive.”

  “We just did that,” Valerie said. “No one’s left but us.”

  “I don’t mean here. There’s got to be others in other places right? Look at us.”

  “We’re alive because we all had the flu before,” Amanda said.

  “I didn’t,” he said. He looked at Riley. “Did you have it before?”

  A slight blush came to her cheeks as she shook her head. “No.”

  “We can’t be the only two. But even if we are, what about all those other people who survived the outbreak last spring? There has to be at least a few hundred.”

  That made everyone think for a moment.

  Martina nodded. “You’re right. We do need to find whoever’s left. Life is never going to go back to normal. The more of us together, the better.”

  “But how are we supposed to do that?” Valerie asked. “Drive from place to place and honk our horns again?”

  More silence.

  “I know how,” Martina said, recalling her experience the previous spring. “Radios. CBs.”

  “Don’t those have limited broadcast?” Amanda asked.

  “Yeah, and aren’t they just for truckers?” Valerie said. “What if no one’s in a truck?”

  “Don’t you think other people will think about this and try it, too?” Martina argued.

  Valerie thought for a moment, then said, “I guess it couldn’t hurt, huh?”

  Martina stood up. “We can pull one out of a truck, or maybe one of the stores in town has one, and set it up here.”

  There were voices of support and nods from the other girls.

  “Um, there are other things we could try,” Craig said.

  “Okay,” Martina said. “Like what?”

  “Ham radios. Those go farther,” he said. “A friend of my dad’s has one set up at his house.”

  “Great idea.”

  “And…”

  When he didn’t continue, Martina said, “And what?”

  “Well, I was thinking, what about K-Ridge?” he said.

  Martina looked at him, confused. “K-Ridge, the r
adio station?”

  “Yeah.”

  “They only broadcast, don’t they? We couldn’t talk back and forth.”

  “Yeah, but couldn’t we broadcast how to get ahold of us on a ham radio?”

  Martina stared at him. “That’s…not a bad idea, either.” She looked around the room. “Does anyone know how to operate a radio station?”

  As expected, no one answered.

  “All right. Who wants to learn?”

  Twenty-Eight

  ROCKIE MOUNTAINS, COLORADO

  9:57 AM MST

  WHERE THE HELL did the Audi go?

  Isaac Judson searched the road ahead, knowing he wasn’t going to spot it. Playing a hunch when they’d reached the intersection, he had instructed the man driving his car to go left. But here they were, several miles in, and no sign of the other vehicle.

  He should have probably let the car go, but it had come from the direction of the camp, and raced away from him the minute they saw each other. That’s what had piqued his curiosity. Why would they run? In a world where almost everyone was dying, wouldn’t they wait when they saw someone else on the road?

  His sat phone rang.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir, it’s Peyton. We’ve reached the camp.”

  Judson told his driver to pull over, then said into the phone, “And?”

  “Whole place is infected. At least thirty people, mostly kids. We’ve got a few more buildings to check, so I expect that number to go up.”

  “Dead?”

  “No one yet, but give it a few hours and that’ll change.”

  So their trip to Colorado was a waste of time. The people in the car had probably been sick, too, he thought.

  “Turn around,” he told his driver. To Peyton, he said, “No need to continue the search. Let’s get back to the airport and out of here.”

  “There’s something you might be interested in.”

  “What?”

  “We talked to one of the girls here. She wondered if we were with the people who had just left.”

  “The ones in the car we’ve been after?”

  “I assume so. Apparently they weren’t from the camp. They’d stopped here looking for a kid who was.”

  “I don’t see how this is important. Probably parents wanting to get their kid before they thought it was too late.”