by S. M. Lynch
Before the bomb, Bill Fleming’s island complex had been unreal. However, what lay beneath ground had always been even more extraordinary. So, he hid in his bunker while everything they’d built above ground—the houses, gardens, parks, the town, village and communal centers—burnt to a crisp.
It hadn’t been a shock to anyone that Beatrice had finally cracked, least of all her father Bill Fleming, but he’d decided having her on the island was worth it—if just to save her from the initial surge of infection that the pandemic would bring.
Some of the islanders who’d fled beneath ground during Beatrice’s rebellion and hadn’t escaped on the boat with her weren’t necessarily loyal to Fleming, some were just like Kyle, who’d been in the medical center when it all kicked off—and hadn’t been able to join the escapees.
Kyle had been approached when he was twenty-two. He’d been told he had a maximum of six months to live, but that if he gave up his life as he knew it and signed on the dotted line, he could be saved—albeit never see his friends or family again.
He’d agreed.
Kyle arrived on Panacea a young man on death’s door, but within six months, was completely cured and feeling better than ever.
The only trouble was, he’d lost his freedom. There was truly no going back to his old life. He’d been a law grad when he’d signed away his life, and on Panacea, it turned out the only thing he was qualified for didn’t translate. On Panacea, his skills, degrees, didn’t account for anything. On Panacea, he was a kindergarten teacher. It was the best he could do, seeing as though he wasn’t a scientist, doctor, botanist or engineer.
He hadn’t been recruited for any of his legal skills. No. He’d been recruited to test out the viability of Panacea’s therapies… and his brain tumors had completely disappeared, though there was no way he could be returned to the real world, not when he’d proven to his doctors that he was a medical marvel—and thus, everyone else would want in on it.
The fires on Panacea put out, Bill Fleming gathered the survivors around him. There were a hundred or so of them, mostly doctors, only a couple of patients like Kyle, who would require top-up treatments for the rest of his life, though much less invasive than when he’d first arrived.
Fleming didn’t know Kyle had been hiding alongside everyone else. Kyle had taken to the wings, keeping to himself, watching as the moderator and his cronies tried to limit the damage.
In the underground complex’s nerve center, Fleming stood amidst his scientists, doctors and engineers, and said, “I have a jet on its way. We have no choice but to return to the land of the living. Childs is out of control, though we all knew this, didn’t we?”
There was a collective, fatigued, “Yes,” in response.
“Our objective is to do what we can to help people out of the crowded cities he has trapped them inside.”
Kyle had heard whispers about the pandemic… but… it was true, then?
Many of Bill’s people nodded they were in agreement, but some looked worried.
“Look, we’ve got enough to keep us going for a few weeks, but we will run out of food here eventually. We have no choice,” Bill argued.
“We had a choice,” someone said angrily—a white coat with folded arms, “but that’s gone now, because of her. Anyway, we should’ve stopped Childs when we had the chance.”
“We didn’t stand a chance, did we?” Bill’s angry retort rang. “He’s a murderous animal and a thug. For me to say that, yeah, the fella is the worst. He would’ve murdered us all. Truth is, he always knew we could lose Panacea, but he’d decided it was collateral damage, to keep Nate Buchanan’s eyes off the prize.”
“The prize?” someone else asked, surprised.
“The virus, of course,” Bill said, like it was obvious. “If Buchanan thought this place was the worst we could do, well, he never saw the virus coming… or if he did, he knew it’d already been placed in the food chain and there was no undoing it. It’d one day mutate and infect humans, too. No telling when… but he knew there was no undoing it. Not when it would’ve meant wiping out billions of animals and leaving half the world starving.”
“So, you weren’t the one who brought the virus to his attention?” someone else asked, another white coat, one who was angry and no longer afraid of Fleming.
“I saw the potential of this virus, of course,” Fleming freely admitted. “The initial research found it was an intelligent virus, a dominant, proactive, complex organism with new DNA… like nothing we’d seen before… and I saw it as an omen, of things to come, and I decided we could use a virus like this to create super-vaccines… to fight cancers… and we have.”
People whispered among themselves, like they didn’t believe it.
“A universal vaccine?” someone muttered.
“Precisely,” Fleming agreed.
Kyle remained hidden, in the wings, stood behind some black storage boxes full of emergency rations. He studied Fleming and recognized him from the treatment center. Fleming had also been having treatment for something over the years. Kyle had bumped into him, now and again, recognizing him as the island’s moderator… but never speaking, and never asking what it was Fleming had been in for. Kyle had been too afraid to approach the man in any capacity. Anyway, whatever Fleming had received treatment for, it hadn’t worked, Kyle could tell. The man got grayer every year, seemed to gain more wrinkles and looked thinner and worn out. Perhaps it’d been too late by the time he began treatment and he wasn’t viable for a cure, they’d just been maintaining him over the years. His days were clearly numbered… and Kyle wondered if the man wasn’t now trying to right some wrongs, before he popped off this mortal coil.
“I’ll start in London,” said Fleming, “where they’ve destroyed everything. If you’re not with me, that’s fine, I’ll drop you off somewhere along the way. But none of us can stay here. There isn’t enough to go around. And we’re not drawing straws. This is my decision. If anyone has a problem with that, you can take it up with my second.”
A man stepped forward, tall, dark and British, carrying two weapons that didn’t seem ordinary… and betraying a past that perhaps included a military career. Kyle had met him a few times down the gym on the island, only in passing, pretty casual, no big friendship or anything. Kyle had played American football in his former life, while this guy—Ash Mackenzie, a Brit—had played tennis and both of them had nearly gone pro. So, they had that in common and had talked a few times. It was rumored Ash had been screwing the boss’s daughter, Beatrice Fleming, so how come he was still here?
People broke off into groups and Kyle stayed where he was. What was he going to do? He had no idea. He knew if he left the island he wouldn’t survive. He had to maintain his top-up treatments. He might manage two or three years, but after that, the tumors could return. He got why Bill Fleming was giving up, he’d already lived a life, but Kyle had sacrificed so much to get to Panacea and felt he hadn’t completed what he’d been sent here to do… not yet, anyway.
Ash and Bill came close to catching Kyle, who sprang back around another set of containers when the other two moved to where he was, probably to talk in private.
“What about Beatrice?” Ash demanded.
“What about her?”
“You said once it was all over, you wouldn’t stand in our way anymore.”
“We both know it’s far from over.”
“You know what I mean.”
Fleming clapped a hand against Ash’s shoulder, warning him. “Listen. She’s angry, all right. She believes I’m the enemy. She’ll be even more incensed when she sees Nate with those new sprogs of his. Once she finds out I’m still alive, she’ll come looking for me, trust me. When she does, she’ll find you, too. If you agree to join me on this mission.”
Ash grumbled under his breath, but had no real complaint. Bill moved off and went back to his makeshift quarters while Ash hung around, like a bad smell.
Once the room got quiet, Ash whispered, “I know you�
�re there.”
Kyle was busted, and his heart pounded, but what was he going to do?
He kept to the shadows but stood where Ash could see him. Ash pretended he hadn’t seen anything, and wasn’t talking to anyone, as the others gossiped in their packs and thought about their fates.
“I can’t leave this island,” said Kyle. “I came here with severe symptoms. If I leave, I may never make it back.”
“You know they have these treatments in New York, right? At the director’s facility.”
“I’m going nowhere near it,” said Kyle, because he knew the director was evil.
Even though Kyle was grateful of the technology that had saved his life, given him a second chance and kept him looking young, too—he also knew that if it came to it, and his choice was between death or becoming one of the director’s servants, he knew which he’d pick.
“I can put you in one of the preservation pods,” said Ash. “And once this is all over, and the director is dead and buried, I’ll come back for you.”
Kyle didn’t believe it. Why would this man do this for him?
“What’s in it for you?”
“Nothing,” said Ash. “Except we have the pods down here, don’t we? They’re not going anywhere. So, what harm will it do? In fact, if anything, this might be fate telling us something. If the rest of us die, maybe you’ll live to tell the tale. Someone might have to.”
“Great,” Kyle chuckled lightly, “so if you die, then I do, too? Because I can’t stay here forever.”
“It’s your choice,” said Ash. “You should come with us, at least then you could help. You’re strong. You’ve got a mad immune system. All Panaceans are going to survive the virus, no problem. But if you’re too much of a pussy to risk it, then stay, by all means. Take a nice, long nap.”
Ash walked away, leaving Kyle alone with his thoughts. It wasn’t as simple as that and Ash knew it, thought Kyle. Panacea wasn’t somewhere you could hop on a plane to, and then arrive at via speedboat, or maybe a cab. It was top secret and unbelievably remote. Kyle knew he would never make it back to Panacea once he’d left. Not only was it remote, and dangerous, but this facility would be shut down and locked tight once Fleming disappeared. Few people would then have the power to regain entry. Kyle was a lowly kindergarten teacher on this island. He was a nobody. Even Beatrice Fleming’s toddler daughter, Lola had made him feel dumb sometimes. He wasn’t extraordinary like any of these other people. He was average. He’d just got here because of dumb luck… or something.
He would wait it out… it seemed like it was his destiny to do so.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“THE VOICE WAS GROWING LOUDER every day,” Mom explained, “and at first, I thought I was going crazy. I thought about checking into someplace. But then, I heard clear instructions. I was overhearing something not meant for me. These were directives for someone else, but somehow, the lines had got crossed.”
“What sort of things?” I asked, still inclined to disbelieve—though everyone else in the kitchen seemed to be listening without my same mistrust.
“Your target is dead ahead, or, something like that, and I… I was frightened. I eventually told your father…”
I looked at Dad, who had been in on it, this whole time. He showed no remorse, whatsoever.
“I got checked out. We had to go somewhere… in Russia,” she explained, “where they would take cash and wouldn’t ask questions. And it was true, the patch on my chip had fractured or something… and I was receiving directives. All it would take was for someone to pump me with the right concoction of drugs, and I’d be theirs, doing their bidding. It became clear that my chip was identical to someone else’s. Maybe I was never in the clone database… maybe it was intentional that someone had twinned my chip with another’s… I didn’t know. Anyway, it was all enough to make me realize something had to be done.”
“So, you faked your death?” I said, nonchalant. “You… put your children through hell, turned your husband into a monk… and your best friend into a lesser version of herself.”
Everyone went quiet, and sheepish. It was only me that was saying what everyone else was thinking. Nobody wanted to admit just what kind of hell we’d all been through. They all felt bad for Seraph, but they also resented it, too. The curse of loving her.
“If eventually they realized I was potentially operational, that was one thing, but I wasn’t sleeping, eating or able to relax, because of the voices… and I decided I had to get out of the game and protect you all… in case I became their weapon.”
“The martyr, the get-out-of-jail-free card,” I scoffed.
My father hissed and narrowed his eyes. He gave me a look that could kill.
“Careful buddy,” Arthur whispered behind us, keeping Kyle at bay.
My mother wasn’t so easily intimidated and carried on talking. “Roche had planted someone on our team. They somehow found out about my predicament. There was nobody but myself and your father who knew what was going on, but we’d had to bring a couple of people to Russia with us… make it seem like a diplomacy mission… and Roche found out what had really taken place. It all happened as you read in the papers and saw on the news. She tried to have me killed. But she didn’t know we’d also planted someone on her team. And we knew what was coming.”
I gasped; so, it was sort of true.
“They thought I’d fallen off the bridge and sunk to the bottom of the Hudson. But I was wearing an inflatable that opened up to surround and protect me before I hit the surface of the water. Your father got me to safety before they saw I was floating around. Then we parted… and we haven’t been together again… until two days ago. So, you see, Camille didn’t know… only your father… and he’s had to bear my secret. And he did so because I asked him to. Because there was something I had to do besides die. There was somewhere I had to be.”
I looked into Camille’s eyes; she’d truly been hoodwinked, too—much to her disdain.
“And the body?” asked Arthur from behind us. “The one we thought was your cadaver?”
“The one they found in the river?” Mom asked, and he nodded.
“They made more than one version of your mother,” Dad revealed, with a grim stare. “She wasn’t alive or dead. Sort of preserved. I removed her capsule from one of their defunct old factories outside Paris. I’d heard rumors about it but didn’t want to say anything to your mother in case it upset her… but then it seemed like the perfect solution, so I took the body.”
“And you did all this? Just you two?” I laughed, like it was highly implausible.
“We never did get much sleep and your father had access to jets then, anyway,” she said lightly.
Camille wriggled her shoulders like the whole thing stank.
“And you just gave up on leading the world, even though she was still alive?” I challenged Dad.
“She’s not done yet telling you the story,” he said, through gritted teeth.
“It had to seem entirely authentic. You all had to mourn, especially your father, even though as I have stated, he is the only one who knew…”
I looked over my shoulder at Arthur, who shared my same thought—we couldn’t trust them anymore.
“There are bigger things at play here,” said Mom. “Your father found another copy of me at that factory, but he also found… a lot more besides.”
Her words sent a shiver down my spine.
Camille scratched her nose, forever that nervous kid waiting for the Reverend Mother to catch her out, her body huddling in on itself.
“What did he find?” asked Camille, squinting, desperate to know.
“Archives,” he said, and everyone seemed relieved that was all it was, but his face didn’t change from that fearsome look. “How they’d done it. Files… on everything. Where it started… where it ended.”
“Ended?” I gasped. “So, there are no more clones?”
“After 2063,” my father explained, “and their grip slackene
d, all the scientists who’d been forced to forget their morals and leave their scruples at the door escaped… and yeah, no more clones.”
“So, the ones teleporting down?” I gasped, afraid.
Kyle came and sat by me and put his arm around me. My mother stared at him, like they definitely were not strangers. I felt sick.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” my father warned, and I took a deep breath. “I found the archives, then loaded everything I could onto the jet along with the body, and met your mother back at home. We scoured those files for days in the run-up to your mother’s death… studying everything. Looking for something, I don’t know what, really… something. It just felt… that we may have been able to find some way of saving your mother, you know? But we didn’t find anything like that. Except, we did find something…”
My parents looked at one another and it was as though they knew it was a bad idea to tell us, but they had to, anyway.
“Don’t hold us in suspense any longer,” Camille complained.
“We found out about the island,” my mom revealed.
“Island?” asked Arthur, confused.
“It’s where they started cloning. Off the grid. Secret. Utterly hidden from the world. It’s called Panacea,” said Mom.
Kyle, who sat beside me, flinched when he heard that word. He was aware of the place. And so was my father, though not many days before, he’d denied any knowledge of its existence while on a call with Seth Buchanan.
“There was also this,” said Mom, bringing a notebook out of her pocket. It was leatherbound and old, very old. “This is a journal. It belonged to a woman called Beatrice Fleming, later Buchanan. The woman was married to Seth’s father, once upon a time.”