by Bev Prescott
“No. I still don’t know the nature of your relationship. I didn’t want to jeopardize his cooperation.” Woody unclipped a small canvas bag from her belt and offered it to Sharon. “You need to eat and drink too. There’s a flask of water and dried rat jerky inside. Now, tell me, from your perspective: Is Elliot a good or a bad man?”
Sharon took the bag. “Thanks for this. I’m not sure I can give an unbiased answer.”
“I didn’t ask for an unbiased answer. I want to know what your gut says.”
“If I had my way, I’d never have to see him again.” Sharon clipped the bag to her own belt. “He betrayed my father, which led to the deaths of my parents.”
“So you’re put into a position of relying on an untrustworthy person to retrieve the thing you need to get wife your back?” Woody asked. “How can you be so sure he’ll help you?”
“Because he’s the only one who can. And he’d do anything for my forgiveness. That I know.”
“What’s the backstory?” Woody asked. “We’ll be landing in Vermont soon. From there, I’ll send JJ with you and Elliot on to Maine to retrieve the seeds, and whatever it is the Strelitzia is after. I won’t have time for surprises. And I need to have an idea of what could go wrong.”
“I understand.” Sharon shoved her hands into her pockets. “Elliot used to work for my parents. He cared for our honeybees and helped with the farm. He had an affair with my mother. It was during the time of the reemergence of the Arctic Plague from bodies uncovered by the melting ice. When my father found out about the affair, he fired Elliot and hired a migrant worker. At the time, the worker wasn’t showing symptoms, but he had the Arctic Plague. It killed him and my parents within weeks.”
“Why is Elliot the only person who can retrieve what the Strelitzia is after?” Woody crossed her arms over her chest.
“The secret to my apple tree is contained in a fire- and weather-proof box filled with argon gas. It’s hidden in the cavity of a dead oak trunk near the apple tree. A robust colony of Africanized honeybees also calls that cavity home. There are only two ways to get the box. One, burn the trunk, which would destroy the apple tree. Or, find someone with an immunity to Africanized honeybees who can retrieve it.”
“And Elliot has the immunity? What happens to a person who doesn’t? ” Woody asked.
“The bees are a mutant strain. They make the originals seem like flying puppies. One sting brings death within two to three minutes.”
“A beekeeping suit isn’t enough protection?”
“No.” Sharon shook her head. “They’re capable of stinging through most materials. Even if you found one they couldn’t sting through, they’re relentless. They’ll chase a person to the ends of the Earth. Once angered, they won’t stop until they kill the source of what pissed them off. Elliot knows this particular colony. He’s the only person who’s ever been able to get near it. God knows how he developed his immunity.”
“I’m guessing he won’t be surprised to learn that it was you who had him summoned,” Woody said.
“He’s probably been expecting it for years. Dreading it.” Sharon cleared her throat. “He knew the day would come when I’d need that box. He also knows I’d rather die than burn my apple tree.”
“Okay.” Woody exhaled, thinking. “So, mutant, weapons-grade Africanized honeybees, any other hazards I should be aware of?”
Sharon smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I killed two Banditti the day I left. Their crappy van is still parked next to my barn. Unless, of course, their friends have shown up and are now living in my house.”
“Oh yeah, the thugs the Strelitzia sent your way. Good reminder.” Woody turned to the door of the brig. “Anything else?”
“You’ve managed to drag everything out of me,” Sharon said. “Even my dirty laundry.”
“Yeah, well. You don’t live properly without getting a little dirty.” Woody pressed her fingertip to the print reader on the door to the brig. The lock clicked open. “You’ll find Elliot in a cell down the hall to your right. I’d prefer to launch your shuttle and crew prior to landing Belosto-One in Vermont. There’s a call box outside the cell. Once you’ve had your say with Elliot, let me know.” With her hip, she shoved the heavy door open. “That’s when you launch.”
Sharon walked the length of the hall, stopping short of Elliot’s cell. She glanced at Erik. “Thanks for doing this with me.”
He wagged his tail, then composed himself, as if sensing the gravity of the moment.
“Elliot.” She moved in front of the cell. “It’s me, Sharon.” The sight of him sucked the air from her lungs.
Sitting on a cot, the man lifted his head. A scar ran from his right ear to his chin. His steel-gray hair contrasted with skin black as night. Filthy torn clothing hung on his spindly body. “I know.” His voice had graveled with age. Three bottom teeth were missing. “Unrecognizable,” he whispered.
“What happened to you?” She gripped the bars of the cell. Seeing the once-robust man so diminished and frail knocked her off balance.
“It’s what happens trying to survive a living hell. A hell of one’s own making.” He wiped spittle from the side of his mouth and stared at the floor.
“I’m . . .” Sharon couldn’t finish expressing remorse. “You were like a second father to me. But you betrayed me.” Rage and compassion battled in her belly.
He wagged a finger. “I can see it. You’re tasting the past. Bitter and sweet have always been the most complicated of tastes. Remember that . . .”
“Don’t,” Sharon snapped. “You don’t get to talk to me about the past. What’s done can’t be undone. I have no desire to relive it, either.”
“All I do is relive it.”
“Yeah. I see.”
“Very well.” Using his hands, he scooted back from the edge of the cot. “There’s only one reason you’re standing in front of me, then. It’s why I kept on keeping on all these years. I knew you’d need the box.”
Sharon closed her eyes and shook her head. “You look like you can barely walk. How the hell are you going to be able to get it?”
“Really, Sharon?” He pressed the back of his head to the wall. “I’ve been living every second of my miserable fucking life hoping you’d need me. Once I get that box, I get to let go. I’ll crawl through fire, if I have to.” His eyes met hers. “Maybe then you’ll forgive me.”
Remorse swelled as she struggled to see the man she used to know inside the man in front of her. “I can’t.”
“Fair enough. All I can do is ask. If we can’t talk about the past, at least tell me about your life. I’ve never stopped loving you, or your family. Your family was my family. How are your brothers?”
“Mark and Jon are dead.” Sharon swallowed back a bitter taste. “And you threw us away.”
“I’m so sorry about the boys. But you must understand by now. I didn’t throw you away. My only sin was to fall in love with your beautiful mother.” He leaned forward. “Did you ever find someone to love?”
She bit her lip. “I never wanted to see you again.” The irony of his question rattled her. Her love for Eve was why she needed him. “Yes.”
“Tell me about him.”
“Her. Her name is Eve.”
“That’s a lovely name.” He beamed. “Could anything ever keep you from your Eve?”
“No.” She rested her forehead on the bars. “Not even having to see you again.”
Elliot laughed. “You were always the most stubborn Clausen. Such grit.”
There was the Elliot she remembered. His smile always had made her feel better as a child. The gentle, sweet smile of the man who stole her mother from her father. She tore her eyes from his. “Will you help me get my box?”
Using his arms to boost himself from the cot, he struggled to his feet. Elliot reached through the bars and put a hand to her cheek. “If it’s the last thing I do.”
Sharon flinched, but couldn’t pull away. His suffering tugged her close. She covered hi
s hand with hers. Savoring the connection to the only living person linked to a past she still longed for. A frayed connection, but one she still, she realized, cherished. Maybe redemption would be possible for Elliot after all . . . and for her.
# # #
“Nothing.” JJ lowered the strange-looking eyeglasses from his face and tapped a command onto the Albatross’s STELA. Offering the glasses to Elliot, he said, “No one’s in or around the house or barn. Want to have a look?”
“You were able to see inside a building from twelve kilometers away? Humans. Destroyers of Earth. Creators of extraordinary gadgets.” Elliot took the burnished metal glasses and slipped them on.
“It’s an OALI, short for Ocular Amplification Light Intensifier.” JJ pushed the throttle forward. “Maximum amplification and light gathering all in one.”
“Huh.” Elliot leaned closer to the Albatross’ window. “I haven’t seen the farm in nearly two decades. What happened to the old house?” With a shaky hand, he offered the glasses to Sharon.
“After mom and dad died, I burned it down with them inside.” Without making eye contact, she took the glasses. “I had to kill the plague bacterium.”
Elliot remained silent.
She lifted the glasses to her eyes. “The Banditti van is still there.” So was her orchard, farm, and home. It had only been seven days since she left, but it felt like seven years. Most of the trees had dropped their apples. Tucked in the midst of the poisonous trees stood her perfect mutant apple tree. The tree that had given Eve the answer.
“I’m going to hover the Albatross.” JJ swiped a finger over STELA. “Wouldn’t put it past the Strelitzia to be watching for us through the instruments on that van or some other contrivance. Any good ideas for getting down there undetected?”
Sharon handed the glasses to JJ. “See the overgrown area northeast of the barn, below the rise of the hill? If we go in low and land there, the hill should give us some cover. It’s about a kilometer walk to the entrance of an underground passageway.”
“Underground passage?” JJ peered through the glasses. “Cool. Let’s do it. Only trouble is that if they can’t see us, we can’t see them.”
“Oh yes we can.” Rummaging through her satchel to retrieve Queenbee, she said, “I’ve got eyes on the farm. Look at the cupola.”
“You mean the owl in the cupola?” JJ grinned. “Those are some big eyes.”
“The better to see with.” Sharon powered up Queenbee. The screen flashed and the owl woke. “She’s got a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view out to five kilometers.”
“The kid actually did it.” Elliot put his forearm to his mouth and coughed.
“You okay?” JJ asked.
The worn man blotted the corners of his mouth with a sleeve. “Don’t worry. I’m not sick. Just older than dirt.”
JJ shot Sharon a glance that suggested his lack of confidence in Elliot’s physical stamina.
“You want some water, Elliot?” Sharon asked.
“Thank you, but save it for yourself.” He blinked and rubbed his eyes. “I remember when Jon thought of the idea of building a place underground to hide from all the badness going around. Your dad was skeptical. But he scavenged for what your brother needed anyway. That boy was a wonder. Just like you and Mark.”
“Jon was the smart one. Mark had the big heart.” Sharon tried to picture their faces. But they’d faded long ago. Only the few pictures she had salvaged from the fire reminded her of their likenesses.
“And you were always the one who held everything and everyone together.” Elliot paused. “The practical child.”
“Maybe too much so, sometimes,” she whispered.
A gust of wind slammed the Albatross, bucking the shuttle up and down.
JJ dropped the glasses and gripped the controls. “We need to fly. The Albatross is the kind of bird that likes to be on the move. What’s the plan once we get to your underground passage?”
“We take the tunnel to my hidden growing area where the seeds and Dr. Ryan’s box of medications are hidden.”
“And the beehive?” JJ tapped STELA.
“Not far from the tunnel entrance,” Sharon answered. “That should be our last stop.”
JJ sketched two arrows. “We’ll head due north, then west behind the hill.” He glanced at Elliot. “Once we land, we have to move fast. You stay at the passage entrance and wait for us. No offense, but you don’t seem in a condition to keep up.”
“None taken,” Elliot said. “My job’s to get that box.”
“Good man.” JJ leaned into the Albatross’ turn. “Here we go.”
Sharon’s stomach fluttered at being home. She clenched her fists, determined to get what she needed to bring Eve home too.
The Albatross’ wing curved backward and her landing skids dropped.
“This could be bumpy.” JJ gripped the controls. “She doesn’t have much room to land in that thicket.” He drew a bird talon. “Have to do a grip landing.”
“Grip landing?” Sharon asked.
Branches scraped the shuttle’s wings and the Albatross pitched forward. Debris kicked and bounced at the fuselage. The bird lurched backward, slowed, centered, and stopped.
“Instead of landing on the ground, it gripped the bushes with its titanium talons. A grip landing.” JJ released his torso-restraint, popped the capsule open and hopped out. He helped Elliot down.
Sharon opened her restraint and then unbuckled the straps holding Erik. The dog shook himself and jumped out after Elliot. After Sharon climbed out, she checked the owl’s view through Queenbee. “Nothing.”
Erik relieved himself on a bush and followed her.
“Good, let’s go.” JJ started up the hill.
“Wait,” Sharon jogged ahead of him. “Let me go first. I know the way and the best route through the brush. You help Elliot.”
JJ nodded and held an elbow out to the older man. “I got you, friend.”
As they approached the top of the hill, Sharon paused and rotated the view scope on Queenbee. The owl’s head swiveled three hundred and sixty degrees. “All clear still.” She pressed forward along a herd path that wound through a tangle of kudzu. A peek over her shoulder confirmed Erik at her heels and JJ helping Elliot stay close.
They crested the rise and picked their way down the steep slope.
Sharon stopped to check Queenbee.
“I sure hope you know where you are.” JJ wiped beads of sweat from his brow. “It’s like a maze with no end. I can’t see a damn thing through this brush.”
“Queenbee’s got our backs.” Sharon waited for him to catch up and showed him the screen. “She sees all and knows all. The yellow dot indicates we’re standing right over the entrance.” She passed Queenbee to JJ. “Hold this.” Squatting down, she tugged branches from the circle in the ground and pressed her fingerprint to it. The circle slid open. She brushed a palm inside the lip of the opening. Light flooded the passageway.
“How long will it take?” Elliot eased into a squat.
“Ten, fifteen minutes, tops.” Sharon climbed down a couple of rungs. “You okay?”
He folded his legs tailor-style and waved off the question. “That hill about did me in. I’m glad to sit and catch my breath.”
Sharon unclipped the water flask from her pack. “I insist.” She reached over and set it on the ground next to Elliot.
JJ retrieved an acupalmtell from his shirt pocket. He unclasped the communicator attached to it and handed it to Elliot. “You call us if you see or hear anything. We need to close the passage in case someone comes along. Hide in the brush. We’ll be able to find you so long as you have the communicator.” He stuffed the acupalmtell back into his pocket. “It’ll only vibrate against my chest. Not ring. So don’t hesitate to call.”
“All right.” Elliot scooted into the cover of knotweed.
“Be careful,” Sharon said and leaped to the passage floor.
Erik followed her.
JJ climbed do
wn and slid the entrance lid closed. “What is that funky smell?”
“Micoriden.”
“Really? How’d you get it? Black market?” JJ kept pace with her.
“A more direct way.” Sharon jogged faster. “My brothers and I stole it from NONA.”
“No shit? That was ballsy.”
“They didn’t seem to miss it.” Sharon glanced at Queenbee.
“What do you see?”
“Just that crappy van.” She halted. “Except—”
He crashed into her. “Oops. Sorry. What is it?”
Pointing at a cracked floor light, she said, “I don’t remember that being blown.”
“Maybe it happened when you turned them on,” JJ said. “Power surge will do it.”
“Yeah. Except it’d be the first time since we built it.” She tugged his arm. “Let’s keep going.” She jogged to the underground farm entrance. “This is it.” She pressed the lock and the door popped open.
Humidity and the intoxicating scent of growing, healthy vegetation enveloped them. She inhaled luxuriously, filling her nose and lungs to capacity. She pushed the door open. The flowers on the hydroponic tomato plants had fruited. Ripened squash dangled from wilting vines. Leafy, dark green potato plants hinted at tubers below the surface. She lifted her hands to her plants. “Hello, lovelies.”
“Holy cow.” JJ caressed a tomato. “Are these . . .”
“Cherry tomatoes.”
Erik trotted past them with his tail wagging. He sniffed every nook, cranny, and leaf before biting off a tomato.
“I thought we were getting potato and kale seed. I didn’t think there were any tomato or squash seeds left to grow.” With eyes wide he asked, “May I? I’m salivating!”
“Please do.” She grinned. “Erik’s already helped himself. I’m glad to share with you.”
JJ plucked a tomato from its vine. He rolled it over in his palm and popped it into his mouth. His eyes gleamed. He closed his eyes and chewed with great concentration. “I’m pretty sure that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. These things were long gone by the time I was born. Thank you, Sharon.”
“You’re welcome.” She picked two tomatoes and offered another to JJ and one to Erik.