A man and a woman stepped out from behind a freezer that had been shifted away from the kitchen wall, revealing a tunnel entrance. The two figures wore grubby HAZMAT suits. They lifted their visors and smiled at Eva and Marcus. Their faces weren’t much cleaner than their suits.
Marvin addressed them as soon as they came into full view. ‘Tim, Gloria, let me introduce you to . . .’
‘The name’s Eva,’ Eva replied, not offering any other information without knowing more about these people. She nodded to Marcus. ‘That’s Marcus. And who are you people, exactly, if you’re not with this A20? You came here with Gracefield during the drowning?’
The two newcomers stepped forward. They each held out a gloved hand in a formal gesture that Eva found odd, but still, she shook them politely. The man introduced himself with a deep, resonant British voice. ‘Good to meet you, Eva. I’m Timothy Goode, the aide to the British emissary to the US . . . or, at least, I was. Just call me Tim.’
His touch was gentle and he let go of her hand after a brief shake. Eva guessed he was in his late thirties. His sharp blue-grey eyes peered out at her. They held a fierce wit and intelligence, Eva thought, having seen that kind of clear, observant gaze before. It reminded her of Marcus.
Timothy, or ‘Tim’ as he insisted on being called, moved to Marcus, his hand held out. The Londoner took it and gave it a good shake, to which Tim, apparently, was equal. The pair stared at each other for a moment before Marcus smiled. ‘Never thought I’d be here talking with a member of the British establishment,’ he said.
Tim cocked his head a few degrees, studying Marcus. He then returned the smile and said, ‘I guess you’re not the kind of chap who desired a career in politics or the justice system?’
Marcus slapped him on the shoulder. ‘No, Tim, my old mucker, that much is correct. I think the people from your side of the tracks would call me a . . . criminal. Which, of course, is a terrible slur. I like to think of myself as a creative entrepreneur.’
‘Well, Marcus, I don’t judge. The world’s gone to hell in a handcart and we’re all just survivors as far as I’m concerned. How about you give me a helping hand moving this body into the boardroom? We like to keep them away from our tunnels as best we can to avoid spreading bacteria.’
Marcus looked at Eva for a moment as if waiting for her judgement. Eva nodded and was relieved when Marcus placed the rifle over his back and helped Tim drag the body of the A20 member out into the boardroom.
While they were busy with that, the new woman introduced herself. ‘Hi,’ she said. She had the quiet, clipped tone of someone who had spent a considerable amount of time in a position of authority, or an official government role. ‘I’m Gloria Chavez. Call me Gloria.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Eva said. ‘And what did you do before the drowning?’
‘NSA. I worked on various artificial intelligence projects.’
Gloria had a Latin look about her, with deep brown eyes and long, dark hair that she wore in a loose ponytail. Much like Tim and Marvin, she also had an air of intelligence. Eva wondered if this was the common bond within the group.
‘And you?’ Marvin asked Eva. ‘Your job before . . . all this?’
‘Cop.’
Gloria peered over her shoulder through to the boardroom, presumably at Marcus, and then back to Eva, with a hint of a smile in her eyes.
‘I know,’ Eva said. ‘It’s ironic that I’m with a self-confessed “entrepreneur”, given my previous job, but it’s not as black and white as that. And . . .’ She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything further.
‘And?’ Gloria prompted.
‘I’m not here with just Marcus.’
‘We know,’ Marvin said. ‘We saw you all arrive.’
‘Of course,’ Eva said. ‘You mentioned that.’ This new development had thrown her concentration. Get it together, girl, she told herself. They might not be all they seem.
The man’s attention went to her radio. ‘Did you want to speak with your friends, update them? We’ll give you some privacy. I would suggest you get them to meet you here so you can all come with us. We have a safe place we can go to make plans.’
Marcus returned to the cafeteria. ‘Plans?’ he said. ‘What kind of plans?’
‘Plans for how we’re going to get out of this ghost town,’ Marvin said. ‘I’m guessing your group wants answers. We can provide them, and, likewise, there are things you can help us with. I know asking you to trust us is a difficult proposition, but it’s either work together, or . . .’ His gaze went to the second A20 body. ‘Well, the alternative is clear.’
Tim and Gloria took that as a prompt and moved the second body from the kitchen and into the boardroom with the first one, dumping it in the far corner.
Eva realised something then. ‘Your group,’ she said to Marvin. ‘You’re united because . . . you’re somehow immune to the infection?’
‘Most of us are, yes,’ Marvin said. Then his voice dropped, thick with grief. ‘There were a number who weren’t. They’re no longer with us. We’re down to just five now. We were over twenty strong up until a few months ago.’
‘So how did you lot split away from the A20?’ Marcus asked.
‘All in good time,’ Marvin said. ‘I must get back. Call your friends and bring them here. Gloria and Tim will escort you to our safe place. We have food, water, and other supplies. We don’t have much time.’
Eva wanted to ask him more questions but the admiral turned and ducked into the tunnel in the kitchen wall, disappearing into the gloom. She moved closer to Marcus. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think we ought to trust them,’ he said.
‘I’m shocked,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t really have you down as the trusting type.’
‘Depends on who I’m trusting, don’t it? Besides, we need answers and help. This lot haven’t tried to kill us, so I think that’s about as good a sign as any that we ought to see what they’ve got to say.’
Eva considered for a moment. Marcus had made a good point. They couldn’t just keep running around the base when there was a group who wanted them dead for whatever reason. She reached for her radio and called Jim. ‘Smokey, this is Bandit, do you copy? Over.’
A few seconds passed then a fragile-sounding Annette answered. ‘Bandit, this is Smokey. Are you all okay? Um . . . over.’
‘We’re fine; we’ve . . . found some people who can help. I’ll explain more later, but you need to come to our location. Or we can come get you. Over.’
Silence.
‘Smokey, do you copy? Over.’
Jim was next to speak and Eva was sure she could hear Annette sobbing in the background. ‘Bandit, we’ve had a . . .’ He sighed heavily. ‘It’s Tom, he’s . . . Well, we met resistance and he’s . . .’
‘Just tell me, Jim. What’s happened?’ She dispensed with radio protocol, eager to find out what had happened, although the cold feeling in her guts told her all she needed to know. But she wanted to be totally sure.
‘Tom’s dead,’ Jim eventually said, his voice cracking before he continued. ‘We were attacked, and he . . . Well, he tried to buy us time, but it was too late. Two of the infected people opened fire. We tried to save him, but it was no good. Tom’s gone. Over.’
Over!
Silence – this time at Eva’s end.
Marcus stared on in disbelief.
Gloria and Tim had finished disposing of the A20 body and re-entered the cafeteria. Their faces were solemn. Gloria looked at Eva with wide eyes, a silent question.
Eva swallowed and brought the radio back to her mouth. ‘What about you and Annette? Are you both okay? Can you both walk?’
‘Yeah,’ Jim said. ‘We’re okay, just . . . devastated. It was so quick. I don’t know why they’re trying to kill us, but they . . .’ His voice trailed off.
Eva then explained what had happened at her end, telling him about Marvin and the rest of his group. Gloria took the radio and spoke with Jim, answering the same
basic questions Eva had asked of them initially. She figured out where he and Annette were and said she and Tim would come get them.
‘Will they be safe?’ Eva asked. ‘Getting from their location to here?’
‘Yes,’ Tim said, his conviction giving Eva confidence. It was bad enough losing Li and Tom; she really didn’t want to lose Jim or Annette.
‘Gloria and I know some alternative routes around this place. You and Marcus stay here, hidden, until we get back. When we do, we’ll take you through the tunnels to our safe place.’
‘Okay,’ Eva said, still numb.
Marcus put his arm around her shoulders and she initially resisted, but then gave in and relaxed into him, thankful for the comfort and safety. After a few moments, Gloria helped them into the tunnel.
‘Wait here,’ she told them. ‘As soon as we’ve fetched your friends, we’ll take you through the tunnels. Don’t go on your own. There are various traps and diversions.’
Eva simply nodded as Gloria moved the large fridge back into place, covering up the hole.
They sat in silence for what felt like half an hour or so, neither one saying anything in remembrance for Tom and all he had done, had sacrificed for them.
‘I know I didn’t get on with him as well as I should,’ Marcus said eventually. ‘But I did respect him, for what he did for us, and I’m sorry he’s gone.’
‘Me too,’ Eva said, reaching for his hand in the darkness.
He held her in silence until they heard voices on the other side of the fridge. It was Jim’s voice, talking to Tim.
The fridge screeched aside and light filled the tunnel, making Eva squint. A hand reached out for her – Jim’s – and pulled her into the light. They hugged and wept for Tom, filling each other in on what they had found and seen.
When they had got caught up, they turned their attention to Gloria and Tim.
‘What now?’ Eva asked.
Tim glanced behind him towards the boardroom. They had barred the door with a steel pole, Eva noticed. ‘We get to our safe place. It’s not an easy journey through the tunnels, and you must follow us closely. Everyone ready to go?’
Despite looking exhausted, Jim affirmed. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said.
‘Wait,’ Eva said. ‘Tom’s body?’
Gloria gave Eva a pitying look. ‘I’m afraid we can’t take him with us. He’s going to have to stay here now. I’m sorry.’
‘Take him with us?’ Jim said. ‘Where are we going?’
The two rebels regarded each other for a moment as if trying to make up their minds how much to tell the others. Eventually Tim spoke. ‘We’re leaving the base, and you’re going to help us.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Eva felt like a lab rat, crouch-walking through the tunnels, keeping her eyes on the returned Marvin as he led the way. Marcus, Jim, and Annette were next. Gloria and Tim brought up the rear.
News of Tom’s death had draped a blanket of silence over the group, something Eva, for one, was glad of. She didn’t want to talk for a while. She just wanted to remember Tom, consider all the good he had done for everyone. Without him, they’d still be on the flotilla, wondering if they were the only ones left, although a different side of her considered if they wouldn’t have been better off staying on the flotilla, after all. At least then, Li and Tom would still be alive. It would have meant, however, they would have had to live the rest of their lives not knowing.
She knew she could never be one of those people who accepted there were answers, and a potential for a new future, but did nothing about it. Existing for existence’s sake wasn’t enough. It never was.
While she continued to follow Marvin through the narrow tunnels – some clearly machine made, others hewn by human endeavour – her thoughts drifted to life before the drowning. Back then, people all over the globe had sought the truth of their existence via religion, spirituality, drugs – anything that could bring some kind of meaning and enlightenment. That hadn’t changed now.
It would have been the easier choice not to search for a truth but to stay back on the flotilla, where life was reasonably stable – the infection aside. She just hoped that whatever these people knew, it would be worth losing Li and Tom for.
Their deaths were a hell of a price to pay, and one that Eva increasingly began to weigh against the knowledge they sought. How many people should die for a truth, for enlightenment, for knowing?
Pre-drowning, one could argue it was worth the lives of thousands or millions if it helped the greater good. Post-drowning, now there were so few people left, every single life had more intrinsic value, meaning that whatever they were searching for, whatever there was to be found, became exponentially more valuable – especially if it meant they could secure their future and gain closure.
After a trek of about twenty minutes through the narrow dark capillaries of the mountain base, Marvin eventually stopped in front of a ramshackle door made from scraps of metal and wood. The ceiling in this section was a few inches above their heads. A chorus of sighs rang out as they stood up straight.
Eva’s back clicked with delicious agony. She stretched her arms behind her, easing the burning knot of tension that had developed between her shoulder blades.
‘I thought it was never going to end,’ she said. Her words seemed too loud after the long silence, but she wanted to say something, even if it was to prompt a conversation. She wanted to hear voices now, a plan of action to make Tom’s sacrifice worth it, anything to get things moving again, get plans made.
‘We had to create a complex route,’ Tim explained from the rear of the group, ‘so that the others wouldn’t be able to easily find us.’
Marvin flipped a switch by the door, and half a dozen light bulbs, strung across the ceiling, beat back the shadows, bathing the group in pale, white light.
Eva could just about make out Tim’s distinctive cold-blue eyes from his position at the rear. Even though he was standing upright, he still had a hunched-over posture. He continued on, wiping the back of his wrist across his forehead, slicking his wild hair away from his eyes. ‘These passages were old maintenance tunnels used during the construction of the base in the early to mid-eighties,’ he said.
‘A20 didn’t know about them,’ Gloria added. ‘So when things got difficult and we split from them, we had to make a home down here. Until we were able to . . .’
‘Able to what?’ Jim said. He scratched a hand through his beard.
Eva noticed the tremble. She couldn’t tell if this was from the shock of losing Tom, or anger towards these new people – or something else.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ Marvin said. ‘We’ve got coffee and food. We can discuss what’s next after you’ve had time to rest and recover. We’ll answer all your questions, I promise, but first let’s get you all safe inside.’
The admiral knocked a complicated rhythm on the door. A few seconds later a metal bolt slid across from inside with a clunk. With a rusty protest, the door swung open. A greeting of yellow light flooded out, backlighting the figure in the open doorway.
‘We’ve found them,’ the admiral said. ‘Let’s get them settled.’
The figure mumbled something and shuffled back into the room. Marvin led everyone inside. Eva stepped into the room and gasped when she saw all the equipment. The space reminded her of a high-school classroom but with far fewer desks and chairs. Around the perimeter were crudely installed shelves holding a variety of radios and other technology Eva didn’t recognise. On the back wall, a rack of computer equipment stood with dozens of cables trailing out of the front and going off behind into the darkness. A woman sat at a console next to the rack units. She was hunched over a series of screens, tapping commands on a keyboard.
She didn’t turn round to look at the others, seemingly engrossed in her work.
The air from the computers’ fans blew constantly across the room, warming Eva’s face. It wasn’t unpleasant.
Marvin pointed to the group of chairs and
desks in the middle of the room. ‘Please, everyone take a seat. We’ll get you some coffee.’
She sat down between Jim and Marcus. Both men were looking around the room, much like Annette, taking in their new surroundings.
Tim and Gloria smiled at the group and disappeared through a low passageway cut into the east wall. Eva cocked an eyebrow at Marvin. ‘Where are they going?’
‘To get the food and coffee,’ Marvin said, flashing a reassuring smile. Eva could see how he would have made a good admiral. He had a singular charisma that made her want to trust and follow him. He was one of those people for whom that particular skill came easily. That’s a real talent, she thought. It made her suspicious, though: too often, those who knew they had that effect on people also knew how to abuse it.
‘Nice place you got here,’ Marcus said, his attention on the woman at the computers.
No response.
‘Vicky,’ Marvin said. ‘If you’re not too busy, my dear, would you mind explaining to our new friends what we’re doing here?’
The woman lifted her hands from the keyboard and swivelled around on her stool to regard the group in the centre of the room. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and, unlike the others, looked freshly showered; her skin was a healthy pink, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. She wore her hair in a messy bun in the way that Eva could never achieve without looking like she had been attacked by raccoons. Even the woman’s clothes put the others to shame – a royal blue trouser suit that wouldn’t be out of place at a top agency on Madison Avenue.
She nodded politely to everyone, yawned, and then introduced herself. ‘My name is Victoria de Jong.’
Initially, Eva thought she was German; her accent was similar to that of one of the women in Susan Faust’s group. The woman’s name told her she was incorrect, though, and when she spoke again, Eva had her pegged as Dutch.
‘I was an MEP for the Netherlands,’ she said, confirming Eva’s suspicion. ‘Before . . . all this, I was drafted into A20 to work on US–EU relations and trade agreements. Well, we all know what happened next, and I came here with Gracefield and the rest of the A20.’
Soil (The Last Flotilla Book 2) Page 16