Eden Rising

by Brett Battles

Riley reached out and grabbed Martina’s wrist. “No. What if it’s a trick?”

  “I think he could shoot us where we’re lying if he wanted to. And even if he can’t, what are we going to do? Just stay here?”

  Riley reluctantly let go as Martina pushed herself to her feet.

  When the rifle remained silent, Martina said, “Okay. Everyone up.”

  Noreen was the first to join her, and then Riley stood.

  “My friend’s going to come back from the car, okay?” Martina shouted.

  “He shuts the door first,” the man responded.

  “Craig,” Martina said, dropping her voice a few decibels. “Do as he says.”

  “Hell, no. I’m not getting up,” Craig said. “He’s going to shoot me.”

  “He’s not going to shoot you,” Martina said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Craig, just shut the door!”

  “Uh-uh. No way.”

  Martina closed her eyes for a second, frustrated. She guessed the roadblock was there to keep the man with the rifle and anyone else with him safe from people who might be infected. If she and the others did what he wanted and left, it would all be fine. Like the man said, there were plenty of other highways to the coast.

  “Sir!” she shouted. “My friend’s a little worried if he moves you might shoot him.”

  “He has to close the door, that’s all. Don’t want it left open for anyone else to get any ideas.”

  Martina raised her hands and took a step forward.

  “What are you doing?” Riley whispered.

  “If you’ll allow me,” Martina shouted, “I’ll close the door. Then we’ll be on our way.”

  The man said nothing for several seconds, then, “If you try anything funny, me or one of my friends will take you down.”

  He’s alone, she thought.

  “I won’t try anything,” she said. “Going to do exactly what I told you I would.”

  She took another step forward, and then another.

  “Martina,” Riley said. “Don’t!”

  “You two get on your bikes and turn them around. I’ll be right back.”

  She could hear Riley start to protest again, but Noreen cut her off.

  “Come on,” Noreen said. “Let’s do what she said.”

  Martina kept her pace consistent all the way to the car. When she reached the door, she looked down at Craig. “After I close it, get up, and we’ll walk back.”

  “No. He’ll shoot us in the back,” he protested.

  His fear was obviously keeping him from thinking clearly.

  “If you don’t get up, we’re going to leave you here,” Martina said.

  She shoved the door closed and turned back toward the motorcycles. She was five steps away before she finally heard Craig get to his feet and scramble after her.

  When they were all on their bikes, she shouted, “We’re sorry we disturbed you! Didn’t realize this way was cut off!”

  “You do now,” he replied.

  “You know, you can come with us if you’d like,” she said.

  “What the hell?” Craig whispered. “Are you crazy?”

  “Thanks for the offer,” the man shouted, “but we’re good here. Best you get on your way now!”

  “All right,” Martina said. “Good luck to you!”

  As they headed back into the central valley, Martina wondered how many others were holed up like the man on 166. Must be hundreds or even thousands scattered all over the place. People just trying to survive. Would they chance a trip to a survival station to get inoculated? She figured some would, while others would probably be too scared to venture from the safe haven they’d created.

  Well, there was one good thing that came out of the encounter. Her headache was gone.

  19

  CHEYENNE, WYOMING

  2:50 PM MST

  WITHOUT THE SNOWPLOWS, the Resistance convoy would have never made it out of Sheridan. Twenty miles south, the going became easier, much of the road covered by only a few inches of snow. After they passed Douglas, there were miles of the interstate completely clear, so they were able to make it to checkpoint three—the Central Avenue/US 85 exit in Cheyenne—in just under six hours.

  At a gas station near the base of the off-ramp, they fueled up the vehicles and settled in to wait for Hiller and Rick.

  Chloe took the opportunity to locate some solitude behind the station. She was lucky there had been so much snow when she fell off the roof the night before. Her injuries could have been a whole lot worse. Still, having her wrist in a sling and her cracked ribs taped up meant she’d been relieved of her driving duties, something that pissed her off more than the injuries themselves.

  Driving would have been good. It would have focused her mind on the road instead of keeping her constantly aware of the others inside the cab.

  Aware of Ginny.

  Chloe had tried to sleep, but she could still see the girl when she closed her eyes. Not as she currently was, sitting in back with Brandon and Josie, but on the roof where Chloe had first seen her. A pair of eyes peeking above a scarf, her name hanging in the air between them.

  Why did this girl bother her so much? What was it about her?

  Chloe was sure she’d never seen the girl before. Well, not in this part of her life. But what about in the other part? The memories from then had been lost to her for years. Which, of course, meant if Chloe had known Ginny before, the girl would have been a toddler at best, and would have looked different enough that seeing her now should not have triggered such a strong response.

  So what was it?

  The name, yes, but not that name, she thought. What that meant, she didn’t know. She also felt it was more than something to do with the girl’s name.

  Her face? Her eyes? The way she wore her clothes?

  The harder Chloe thought about it, the further the answers seemed to move away.

  “You all right back here?”

  She turned in surprise.

  “Sorry,” Ash said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, then narrowed her eyes. “Should you be walking around?”

  “Should you?”

  She allowed herself to smile.

  “You looked pretty lost in thought there,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? I mean, other than the world going to shit.”

  “Other than that, yeah.” He leaned up against the building. “All that riding can’t be good for us.”

  “You were in the army. You should be used to it.”

  He grunted a laugh and said, “You never get used to it.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “So you’re the one who found the cat, huh?”

  “Sorry about that.”

  The cat had been a surprise to them all, Brandon keeping it under wraps until they’d been on the road for nearly half an hour. It had hissed a few times and so far was only letting the kids touch it.

  “Well, we couldn’t very well leave it there, I guess,” Ash said.

  She didn’t say anything. Because of her fall, she’d forgotten all about that cat. If she’d remembered, she could have been the one who brought it along.

  “Brandon said you seemed to freeze up there.”

  “Up where?” she asked, knowing perfectly well what he meant.

  “Last night.”

  She looked at the storage sheds sitting side by side at the back of the station lot. “It was cold. We were all freezing.”

  “I don’t think that’s what he meant.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what he was talking about.”

  “He said you appeared to be staring at Ginny right before you slipped.”

  “It was dark up there. Not sure how he could tell who was looking at who.”

  “Well, I’ve noticed you’ve tried very hard not to look at her today.”

  “Is there a point to this?”

  “Only that I’m your friend, and you
seem troubled, so that worries me.”

  “Then let me ease your mind.” She pushed off the building. “I’m not troubled, so you don’t need to worry.”

  Without waiting to hear what he had to say next, she started to walk away.

  As she came around the building, Matt said, “Ah, there you are. Have you seen Ash?”

  “Right here,” Ash said, rounding the corner behind Chloe.

  “You guys have a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”

  “I’d have to check my schedule,” Ash said, “but I could probably move some meetings around.”

  “We’ll use my Humvee,” Matt said, not even cracking a smile.

  __________

  ASH WAS THE last to climb into the vehicle.

  “How are you both doing?” Matt asked, once they were all seated and the door was closed.

  “Better than I was last week,” Ash said.

  Matt looked at Chloe. It seemed to take her a moment before she realized he was waiting for her to respond.

  “Uh, worse than I was last week.”

  Matt studied them, as if assessing his next words. “I’m considering taking a little detour before heading to Nevada.”

  “Detour where?” Ash asked.

  “New Mexico.”

  “I assume there’s a reason why.”

  Another pause, briefer this time. “As you know, in the past, we were able to get some of our people placed inside Project Eden, to help us know what was going on.”

  “Didn’t really do a lot of good, did it?” Chloe said.

  It looked for a moment as if Matt would snap at her, but the tension in his face quickly disappeared and he sighed. “No, you’re right. It didn’t help us stop them before. But that could change now.”

  “What do you mean?” Ash asked.

  “Project Eden may have altered the course of human history, but I’ll be damned if I allow them to direct which way we go next. What you two did at Bluebird was a big step in that direction.”

  “We failed at Bluebird,” Ash said.

  “Yes, the virus was still released, but you eliminated the Project’s directorate, and that was not a failure. With the directorate gone, a new set of leaders should have been put in place.”

  “What do you mean, should have?” Chloe asked. “They seem to still be operating pretty damn effectively.”

  “The Project has always functioned under a group-leadership model, with one person acting as principal director,” Matt said. “This director is supposed to work in concert with the other directors. If it hadn’t been for this structure, they would have never made it this far. When it became apparent that the directorate at Bluebird was gone, procedures were put into motion to form a new directorate. Only, apparently, what happened is that the new principal director hijacked the process, and turned the set of directors below him into a rubber stamp committee.

  “Right now, the bulk of the Project is operating exactly as planned. As soon as they have eliminated the survivors they feel are unnecessary, they’ll unite the remaining population and start the final phase—the next coming of man, if you will. But instead of the whole directorate deciding things, it will be just this one man.”

  “A dictatorship,” Ash said.

  “Exactly.” Matt frowned. “I’m not saying I’d be happier if a committee was running things. As long as Project Eden is in charge, it doesn’t matter to me who’s calling the shots.” He paused. “What does matter, though, is the opportunity this presents to us. What happened at Bluebird was a rare thing. Having the full directorate in the same facility at the same time was an act of arrogance. If they had lived through Implementation Day, we would have never seen them all in one place like that again. It made them vulnerable, and they paid the price.”

  Ash saw where this was going. “A single leader has the same vulnerability, only constantly.”

  “Yes, he does,” Matt said. “Hence the trip to New Mexico. One of our people inside was able to get us a message that the current principal director, a man named Perez, is operating out of a Project Eden facility near Las Cruces, New Mexico. I’m going there, and I’m taking him out.”

  “But isn’t this the same problem?” Chloe asked. “If we get rid of him, won’t someone else take his place?”

  “Possibly,” Matt said. “But it will be a big blow nonetheless, more so because he’s been operating so independently. And we need to start somewhere. After he’s gone, we’ll go after the next set of leaders and the next and the next. Each time we succeed, the Project becomes more unbalanced. They have already taken so much from us. We cannot let them rule the future.”

  “You’re sure this Perez person is in New Mexico?” Ash asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “How are we going to get in?” Ash asked. “We can’t just walk up and knock on the door.”

  “There’s a way,” Matt said.

  “What way?”

  “It would be better if neither of you knew that.”

  “Why not?” Ash asked.

  Matt eyed them both. “Because when we reach southern Colorado, the two of you and the kids will head to Nevada.”

  “The hell we will,” Chloe said. “If you’re going after the Project, I’m going, too.”

  “I need people who can fight,” Matt said. “Not people I have to worry about because they’re already injured.”

  “You need me.” Chloe glanced at Ash. “You need both of us.”

  “Yes, I do,” Matt said. “But as you were, not like this.” He grimaced. “I know how much both of you have done, that you’ve both earned the right to be there. But be honest with yourselves. You’re going to be more of a burden than help, and you know it.”

  “And you’re not going to be?” Chloe said, motioning to his bad knee.

  “I have to be there,” he said. “You don’t.”

  “Bullshit. You…I can…” She was so worked up, she looked like she was going to launch herself right at Matt and rip out his throat. Instead, she threw open the door and charged out of the truck.

  Matt’s head drooped. “I’m sure you understand,” he said to Ash.

  “Oh, I understand the reasoning, but your logic is flawed.”

  “I just want—”

  Ash cut him off. “Injured or not, when the mission is critical, you always want your best people with you, and you’ve got no one better than Chloe and me.” He leaned forward a few inches. “The fact that you don’t see that makes me very concerned for those who will be going with you.”

  He opened the nearest door and piled out, his exit not quite as graceful as Chloe’s, but his point made.

  __________

  IT WAS ANOTHER seventy minutes before the snowplow driven by Hiller pulled into the gas station parking lot.

  Matt was the first to greet him. “Any problems?”

  “Not with the kid,” Hiller said. “He’s been out the whole time. But this thing…” He nodded his chin at the truck. “Not sure how much farther it can go.”

  “We’ll leave it here, then.”

  “What do you want me to do with Rick?”

  “Let’s put him in Ash’s truck. At least when he comes to, his sister will be there.”

  “Sure,” Hiller said. “I’ll get one of the other guys to help.”

  “I can do it,” Matt told him.

  Hiller looked unconvinced, but he headed back to the plow with Matt limping along behind him. Together they eased Rick out of the passenger seat. With one of the boy’s arms over each of their shoulders, they carried him toward the Humvee Ash and his family had been riding in. They were a little over halfway there when Matt saw Ginny running toward them, her eyes wide.

  “Rick? Rick, oh my God!” As she neared, her steps faltered. “Rick?” She looked at Matt. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s sleeping, that’s all.”

  “He looks sick. Is he sick?” she asked, panicked. Instead of backing away like most people would, she moved closer to her cous
in.

  “He’s not sick. He’s asleep.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he said. “Can you open the back door for us?”

  With a nod, she hurried over to the Humvee and did as requested.

  After Rick was situated and the doors were closed again, Matt turned to the others standing around. “Everyone load up. I’m hoping we can make it all the way to Denver before we stop for the night.”

  He watched them walk off and climb into their vehicles. They were good people—great, even—all willing to do whatever needed to be done.

  For how many of them, he wondered, would this be the last call to action?

  20

  NB219

  LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO

  3:58 PM MST

  PRIMARY DIRECTOR PEREZ read the report, his displeasure increasing with each word.

  In Mumbai, India, someone had taken it upon himself or herself to release the survivors who had already shown up at the survival station by cutting holes in the detention-area fences. Perez’s initial question was why would anyone even consider doing this? The survival stations were places of refuge as far as anyone on the outside was concerned, and those in the holding areas would believe what they’d been told, that their confinement was merely a precaution designed to keep as many people alive as possible. No way any of them would want to leave prior to receiving the promised inoculation.

  To Perez, this meant it had been an inside job.

  Though not acknowledged to the Project Eden general membership, it had long been known among those in charge that some members were not quite as dedicated to the cause as everyone else. They were sympathetic to those outside the Project, willing to risk everything the Project stood for to avoid what they considered unnecessary deaths. Perez was sure the person who’d cut through the fences was one of these people, and that he or she was part of the Project personnel assigned to Mumbai.

  When he finished reading, he called Claudia on the intercom. “Who’s the director in Mumbai?”

  “Mr. Dettling.”

  “Dettling?” he said. Perez was good with names, and had at least a passing knowledge of most of the people running Project operations around the world, but Dettling didn’t sound familiar.