Eden's Exodus (Plague Wars Series Book 3)

by David VanDyke

  Husnia turned back to the laptop and began carefully typing another message, praying as she did so that she had made the right decision.

  Chapter 3

  “Captain” Misgana walked along the rocky paths between defensive positions. The men and women smiled at him and he did his best to smile back, deliberately returning their naïve optimism.

  Misgana knew better. He’d been a soldier himself once, and had fought in the Ethiopian Army in Somalia, Eritrea, and Sudan, which was why the people had stuck him with the martial nickname of “Captain,” despite the fact he’d only been a lieutenant. Still, his military expertise was greater than any other here, and the people seemed to want to follow his confident presence.

  They all believe we have a chance, he thought as he walked among them.

  Looking down the cliffs at the enemy soldiers surrounding them, he knew it was only a matter of time before they brought overwhelming firepower to bear on the Edens and wiped them out, as the Caliphate wished.

  “Damn that old woman,” he muttered under his breath. He laughed at himself. Husnia was no longer old, although he thought of her that way when she wasn’t around. When he was near her, it was hard not to be mesmerized by her beauty and charisma.

  That’s what makes her even more dangerous, he thought. She’s brought us all here to die. We were in a tight spot in the camp, but now we’re forcing the government’s hand.

  As if reading his mind, the loudspeaker van boomed out at them again from across the lines below. “You Edens. Come down from the mountain. You will not be harmed. We have food and shelter for you. Edens. Come down. We are your friends and countrymen.” Then the message would repeat as the truck drove up and down the base of the mountain.

  They aren’t likely to treat us as friends after we raided their food and weapon stores, Misgana thought. He hadn’t been in favor of the move to the mountain, but once the people decided they would go along with Husnia, Misgana had agreed to the food raid and the sneaking out at night.

  While at the depot, Misgana had seen the armory and simply couldn’t help himself. He’d taken the opportunity to break the flimsy locks off the weapons and ammo bunkers. His men had loaded all their animals with weapons and supplies.

  This may make the soldiers eager for vengeance too, he’d thought, but had done it anyway.

  Over the weeks before, the soldiers had become lackadaisical. Some had seen the raid in progress, but were too drunk or lazy to bother stopping them, believing it was someone else’s problem. However, allowing several thousand civilians with children to sneak off in the middle of the night after stealing all the food supplies made the officers look bad to their senior leaders. Misgana knew from firsthand experience that those on duty at the time would likely be whipped publicly.

  He looked up at the slope, and then down at the soldiers below him. So far they had concentrated their forces on the north side of the mountain nearest to the lines leading back to the capital, but that might only be to lull the Edens into neglecting the rest of their perimeter. Misgana made a mental note to strengthen the other approaches.

  He heard someone creeping along behind him on the mountain trail. Turning in exasperation, he glared at a small lithe girl with big intelligent eyes. “Jemmia! I thought I told you to stay back and help watch the little ones.”

  She looked away, wringing her hands, but then gazed up at him and smiled. “It’s okay, daddy. Husnia said she would watch them.”

  “Did she now?” he asked, and repressed a frown. His daughter loved the woman because she doted on her like all the children. Misgana figured he couldn’t begrudge the little girl finding comfort where she could.

  “Have you heard anything?” Jemmia asked her father.

  He didn’t have to ask her what she meant. When the soldiers had come to their village to round up the Edens, his wife and son had been away visiting her sister. It still hurt him to remember how friends and neighbors who had known them all their lives had pointed them out readily enough as Edens when the soldiers arrived.

  “I’m sure they are fine,” Misgana said, hoping it was true. Certainly if they had been captured they would have been brought to Cumba. He’d waited there to greet every arriving vehicle of refugees, but had seen nothing of his wife or son. Hopefully they’d gotten the news about the roundups and stayed with her sister. He felt the urge to run off after them, but knew he had to take care of Jemmia.

  And take care of the rest of the people who depended on him.

  Misgana had somehow found himself responsible for everyone here on the mountain. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough worries and concerns of his own. His father had been the leader of their clan, and had talked about the burden of being responsible for other people. Misgana hadn’t understood at the time, but he thought he did now.

  “Come on, then,” he said ruffling her hair. “Stay close to me.”

  Jemmia smiled with pleasure and bounded over to him, as agile as a mountain goat, and took his hand. The two walked around the side of the mountain, greeting the men there and asking about them. Misgana was primarily interested in the weapons placements and defensive positions, but couldn’t turn away from their need to be reassured, to know that someone was in charge…as if that would keep their problems at bay.

  As much as he hated it, he knew that someone was him. Husnia was the force behind everything, but as revered as she was, the Ethiopian people were traditional and set in their ways. The men would never allow a woman to give them direct orders. Misgana wished it were not so. If she were in charge, he would be free...well, at least a little freer, he thought.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, said the voice of his father in his head. That is the beguiling curse of our clan. We could have ruled Ethiopia if we had not spent so much time feeling sorry for ourselves. Don’t waste time you don’t have. Instead, do what you can while you can.

  The men and women smiled back at him, though he could not help but notice the fear in their eyes. He also saw the deep hunger in their faces, the same hunger he felt. The Eden virus had cured him of maladies and ailments he didn’t even know he had. His mind was sharper and his body filled with more energy than at any other time in his life. Misgana sensed he was alive like he had never been. Yet, this came at a cost, and food was never in abundance in Ethiopia.

  “Let’s go check out the caves,” Misgana told Jemmia.

  The girl bounded ahead. Like all the children, she loved the idea of the caves, so the adults had given up trying to keep them from playing there. The guards Misgana had posted at the entrance were mainly to keep anyone from walking off with anything stored inside. They also carefully measured out the food supplies each day. If they kept themselves on the near-starvation diet plan, Misgana had calculated that they had enough food for several weeks, perhaps a month.

  “Any trouble?” Misgana asked the two men. He didn’t expect any, but Misgana had never been one for conversation, and it seemed like something to say.

  “Just a few people asking about any extra food, Captain,” one of the men said. “No trouble.”

  “You didn’t give them anything did you?” Misgana asked. “Not even the kids.”

  Both men looked away.

  “You can’t,” Misgana insisted. “I know it’s hard, but we have to carefully ration the food. It’s all we have, and if word gets out you’re handing out extras to people, there will be a riot as everyone comes for more.”

  “Just a little to a few of the children,” said one of the men. “Nothing much.”

  “They’re very hungry, Captain,” the other man added.

  “We’re all very hungry,” Misgana said looking at them sternly. “No more extras handed out. I get even the hint that anyone is handing out food, that man and all his family members get nothing for three days. Do you understand?”

  They looked at him in shock.

  “Do. You. Understand?” he asked slowly.

  The two men nodded that they did.

 
; “Good,” Misgana answered. “Spread the word to everyone. Make sure all the guards know the consequences.” He turned to Jemmia. “Come on now, let’s get going.”

  She didn’t appear immediately, and he was about to call again when she popped up out of a hidden hole ten feet to his right.

  “Be careful,” he told her. “It would be easy to get lost in all these caves. We don’t even know where most of them lead.”

  “Captain, Brenha walked down that one off to the left the other day,” said one of the men. “Said after an hour of walking, he found an underground lake filled with cold spring water.”

  “Really?” asked Misgana.

  The man nodded. “It’s a long way to go for water when it’s just after the rainy season, but it could serve us well if the sky closes up.”

  Misgana nodded. “True. Tell Brenha I want to see this lake.” He turned to Jemmia. “Come on. Let’s get out of these men’s hair.”

  Jemmia laughed. “They do have such long hair now.”

  They all had longer hair. Everyone typically kept their hair cut short to avoid lice and make cleaning themselves easier, but now neither of those things seemed as difficult. Besides, their hair always grew back thick and healthy.

  Walking around to the next crossroads, he saw a small shack with a metal roof. It had been moved with some difficulty, but looked much like it had before. Misgana hadn’t intended to go to Beelsha’s shack, but now that he was there he felt the need for information.

  “Wait right here,” he told his daughter. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Why?” she asked. “I can go with you.”

  “No,” he said seriously. “You stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.” Not waiting for a response, he walked over and knocked on the side of the shack.

  There was some scurrying inside and then silence before the edge of the makeshift door opened a crack. Half of Beelsha’s face could be seen.

  “Yes?” the small man asked.

  “I’d like to know if there have been any updates,” Misgana said.

  Beelsha looked back toward the briefcase and then at Misgana. “I’ll check this evening and let you know.”

  Misgana forced the door open farther so he could see the man fully. “This is important. I need to know exactly how far out in the wind our asses are hanging and if we are on our own or not.”

  “If I use the antenna too much,” Beelsha whined, “they could triangulate the signal and jam it…or worse. They might send a missile, or a bomb.”

  Misgana frowned. “I doubt they’re worrying about that right now. Besides, we’ll only be a minute.”

  Indecision fought on the man’s face. Finally he nodded. “I’ll check and get back to you.”

  “No need,” said Misgana forcing the door the rest of the way open and stepping into the small shack. “I’m here now, so let’s see if there is any response.”

  Beelsha appeared on the verge of arguing further, only to decide against it. As he was setting up the computer and its link, he said without looking at Misgana. “You know it was her message. If there is any response, it should be her who reads it.”

  “I’ll make sure she gets it,” said Misgana. “Besides, she wasn’t speaking for herself, but on behalf of all of us. There can be no secrets here. Not if we’re going to be able to trust each other and make it through this thing.”

  The man nodded and kept working. After several minutes, he typed furiously into a keyboard. He then stared at the screen silently before turning to Misgana and spinning the laptop so he could see it.

  Misgana looked at the scene and then back at Beelsha. “I don’t read English.”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Beelsha typing on the keyboard more. When he turned the laptop toward him again, the writing was in the distinctive Amharic text.

  Misgana read Husnia’s emotional appeal for help first, as it was at the top of the screen. He had to admit it was well composed and thoughtfully executed. It asked for help without begging, laying out their needs and the logic of each potential course of action.

  “She writes well,” Misgana said softly to himself.

  “Yes,” answered Beelsha simply.

  The response was from “Markis” and read:

  Husnia. Thank you for reaching out to us for help. I can appreciate your reluctance to do so until now, but we live in an increasingly interconnected world. Sadly, we also live in an increasingly polarized world. That world is divided between those who are Edens or tolerant of them, and those who want to persecute or destroy. We all find ourselves on one of those sides even though we may not have chosen.

  You are not alone. There are many communities and many people like yourself and I am committed to helping all of them and helping you. Rest assured that we will do what we can to help. I believe you made the right decision to leave the internment camp. We have seen similar situations around the world and far too often the ultimate outcome is horrific. It is quite possible that by leaving that camp you saved your own life and the lives of those with you.

  We will be sending help soon. Until then, hold out. We have embedded links to information on how to effectively ration food and make weapons. Remember above all that your greatest weapon is the Eden virus itself. Every time you manage to infect an opponent, it not only weakens those who want to destroy you, but gains you an ally.

  May God be with you and bless you. We will be in touch.

  Markis.

  “What does it say?” asked Jemmia startling both men.

  “Ah, man,” said Beelsha. “Now a kid knows about this, it will be all over camp soon.”

  Misgana turned from Jemmia to the small man. “You needed secrecy down in that camp to keep the soldiers from shutting you down. That is no longer a concern.”

  “Yes,” he said, “but I don’t want everyone to know. Just like you, they’ll all be in here wanting to watch Baywatch or something, and the batteries are on their last legs.”

  “Jemmia,” Misgana said turning to his daughter. “I need you to keep this a secret.”

  “But why?” she asked.

  “Because it’s important,” he insisted. “Can I trust you?”

  She was silent for a long time. “I won’t tell anyone,” she finally said.

  “Okay then,” he said. “Best go get Husnia.”

  “Husnia?” asked Beelsha.

  “Yeah,” Misgana answered. “Like you said, the message was to her. Besides, we need to compose a response, and it’s obvious she writes better than I do.”

  Beelsha nodded in agreement. “Better than me too. I’ll go get –”

  “I’ll go,” yelled Jemmia, darting out of the shack.

  Misgana shouted for her to come back, but she was already gone, fleet and agile as the wind.

  Chapter 4

  Skull came out of his light drowse as he felt the commercial plane begin to descend. Looking out the window, he saw smooth beaches and high-rise buildings as Tel Aviv came into view. Sighing, he pulled his seat up and prepared for the impending ordeal. Israel’s intense and competent security made it the sort of place where he could appreciate living, but not a place in which he liked to operate.

  The plane’s wheels touched the runway smoothly and they taxied toward the terminal.

  “Welcome to Tel Aviv International Airport,” said a voice over the intercom, and Skull blocked the rest out. He closed his eyes and relaxed, running over the details of his cover persona one last time, thinking this might be the last moment of peace he would see for a good while.

  Soon, passengers filled the aisle, but Skull remained in his seat until most had disembarked. Then he stood, gathered his carry-on bag, and slipped into the flow of people. Exiting the plane, he immediately saw Israeli soldiers with Uzis standing ready and vigilant.

  The lines through customs moved slowly as always. Skull forced himself to smile at the agent when he called, “Next.” He strode forward to hand the clerk his passport and declaration form. The man didn’t smile in return, onl
y scanned the barcode of the passport before looking at the screen. He then glanced up at Skull to compare the photo, flipping through the pages of the passport.

  “What is the purpose of your visit, Mister Carter?” the agent asked.

  “Business,” answered Skull simply. He knew the agent was giving him an invitation to babble. Nervous people with something to hide often did that.

  “And what is the nature of your business?” the man asked.

  Skull pulled out a business card with a bright blue emblem. “I work for a consulting firm that locates software for computer companies. I’m going to check out several of the local IT labs here and see if they are willing to give us agreeable terms.”

  The man already looked bored, which was the intent. “I see your virus card is up to date.”

  “Yes,” answered Skull simply. The unstated assertion was that he had been tested for the Eden virus. Israel didn’t yet bar infectees, but anyone exiting a United States airport required tested before boarding. Those who tested positive were pulled from the flight and put into “quarantine”…a euphemism for a prison camp.

  The agent flipped quickly through the passport again, looked at the declaration form, and then handed them both back to Skull along with the business card. “Enjoy your stay in Israel,” he said before looking behind Skull. “Next.”

  Skull found the proper baggage carousel and retrieved his small suitcase. After a short taxi ride, he checked into the hotel, unpacked his bag, and took a shower. He got dressed and went downstairs to the restaurant for an excellent dinner alone.

  By the time he finished his meal, it was dark outside. He exited the hotel and began walking toward the vibrant nightlife district adjacent to the seaport. Passing streets filled with outdoor cafes and restaurants where couples and friends shared drinks and food in the night’s ocean breeze, he wandered farther into the neighborhood. The cafes gave way to bars which soon gave way to clubs. Neon lights and loud rhythms told passersby the type of experience available inside.