Cursed Apprentice (Earth Survives Book 2)

by R. R. Roberts

  Coru sprang up. “Yes! A kind of time U-turn.”

  Wren looked at Coru, puzzled. This is what he’d been thinking?

  “I learned my brother never returned. We’d simply disappeared one day. That means he’s somewhere here and …” Coru faltered. “And I—and we—have to stop him.”

  “Your brother?” Tony interjected, his face twisted in puzzlement. “I thought this Moses Zhang was the bad guy? Geez, I can’t keep up.”

  “Zhang is the bad guy, or at least, this all started with Zhang. But since we’ve come out from Peace Country and travelled first to Bear Lake, then to Freeland, I’ve heard things that have changed my mind.”

  “Like what?” Tom was still clinging precariously to his disbelief.

  “Like Professor Red is running the show down at New Pacifica.”

  They looked back at him with blank expressions.

  “Okay, let’s start small.” Coru waved his hand at Gayle and Mario. “The medical attention you got—the therapeutic second skin for Mario’s wound. You’ve got to admit that was practically miraculous. That technique was Basic Wound Care 101 in my time, and was never here—before Freeland, that is.”

  Mario ran his palm up and down his chest as Coru spoke, his expression pensive. The brutal wound had run the length of his torso. Wren had seen it happen, yet now, after the Freeland doctors had corrected Gayle’s rudimentary stitches, there was no trace of Mario’s part in the brutal, blood-soaked Prince George killing fields, where every family that made up the Bear Lake Outlanders tribe fought against the Road Lords. They’d all been so grateful, they hadn’t even questioned where this new medical treatment had come from. Mario had even floated a weak joke about no one believing him if he ever recounted his part in the event when he was an old man one day.

  Coru continued, “The artificial spine fluid for your back injury, Gayle? Same deal. This was never here before the Bore. These medical procedures are from the future. These are things only Moses or Payton would know.”

  Wren could see their friends were no longer denying Coru but considering his words and believing him.

  Encouraged, Coru continued, “Let’s move onto the elusive Mr. Courlisaw, the guy who’s behind Freeland. Have you ever seen a structure as advanced as Freeland before now? Anything even close?”

  Doug sat back and blinked. The Antonellis exchanged looks. So did the Hanson twins, their pale blue eyes locking. Wren guessed they had marvelled at the place. They all had. Freeland was something out of a Sci-Fi novel, yet, here they all were, inside the futuristic fortress, living out a futuristic existence, right down to the soft grey uniforms worn by every soul ensconced inside—worker bees in a sociologic hive, each with their own task to accomplish. From a distance, and it didn’t have to be a far distance, everyone here looked alike. It made her shiver, recognizing their easy capitulation. They’d been so grateful to find safety, they’d bought it all.

  Abruptly, she wanted to go home.

  How she missed her family on D.O.A. along the Peace River up north. Scouting the perimeter with Nicola, cooking with Catherine. Talking with sweet-natured Sandy. The kids. The kittens, a new batch this year… laughing, singing Sean, and Dan, with his big plans for the future. Bill was gone now, she knew, but he lived on in her heart…

  Gary barked out, “Freeland shouldn’t be here, either, is that what you’re saying?”, slamming Wren back from her little escape.

  “Is it a coincidence that all this was funded and built since Zhang arrived in this time?” Coru shrugged and said no more.

  Doug spoke, his voice forced. “What were you going to say about Professor Red?” You never got a stray fact past the ever-practical Doug.

  Coru replied, “I was hearing comments about this Professor Red who is in charge down in New Pacifica, and they kept triggering a bell in the back of my head, but I couldn’t figure out why. Then, when I was back in WEN 2341, seeing the changes that had occurred because of Zhang, it hit me.”

  He stood up and began pacing. “When me and Payton jumped through the Bore, I remembered what Payton had been wearing. It’s a long shot, but, the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced.” He stopped, his eyes focused on something only he could see in his mind’s eye. “Payton was wearing a jacket that had Professor Rez printed on it. It was his nick-name back on Cloud Rez, on account of his devotion to the library historical stacks. He studied the histories compulsively. Thus, the name ‘Professor Rez’.”

  Gayle repeated doubtfully, “Professor Rez? But the New Pacifica guy is Professor Red…”

  Coru shrugged. “It’s a stretch, but not by much.”

  “But, would your brother…would your brother do these things? Support a disease that would wipe most of the human beings from this earth? Would he create an army—the POE—and send them out into the country to terrorize what’s left of us?”

  Coru dropped back into his chair. “Gayle. I wish I could say an unequivocal no. I don’t want to believe it, but the possibility is there, isn’t it? Could my brother and Zhang have connected, and could my stupid, impressionable, untested eighteen-year-old brother have been convinced Zhang’s ultimate solution was right? Or could Zhang and Payton have connected, with Payton coming out on the wrong side, losing, with Zhang now using him as a front? Maybe that’s how Zhang learned I was here somewhere, in some nearby WEN, and he set up the poster and reward to find and silence me. Maybe the way he silenced my little brother.” He raked his hands across his head. “I go around and around, every possibility seems worse than the one before. I believe Payton is alive. How complicit he is with this reboot I can’t pin down. What I do know is I have to find him, or perhaps …what’s left of the brother I once knew and convince him to stop this madness. Somewhere out there, my brother still exists. I feel it.”

  There was silence in the meeting room as they all absorbed Coru’s tortured words. Nothing about this was easy, was good, or was even hopeful.

  Tony gripped his wife and son’s hands with his. “So, why are you here and what do you want from us? I know there’s more.”

  “I’m sorry, Tony, but you’re right. There is more. Back in WEN 2341, I learned something that chilled me to the bone.”

  Here Coru stopped, and Wren could see he did not want to reveal this last truth to his friends. She slipped her arm across his shoulders and pressed against him, willing him to draw strength from her faith in him. “Tell them,” she whispered.

  He nodded once, then said, “I learned there was not one pandemic here in this WEN, but two.”

  Gayle gasped, “God, no!”

  Now both Hanson twins were on their feet, pacing in circles like caged animals with nowhere to go, their shoulder-length blond hair whipping back from their flushed faces. Doug wagged his head in defeat and slumped lower in his seat. Tony and Mario straightened, alert. Mattea remained still. Deklin continued drawing on his tablet.

  His voice thick with regret, Coru pressed on. “There is a device, a subcutaneous device that was developed to deliver needed medications for chronic medical conditions or to counteract drug addiction. It was invented by Wren’s father, Charles Wood—one of his early creations. It’s been in use in your WEN for some time. In the now current histories in WEN 2341 for this time, Professor Red brings the remaining population to heel with this device.” He passed a shaking hand across his eyes. “Those on his side have the antidote to the second wave of the virus inside their bodies, in that device, which will protect them as long as they remain loyal. Those who are not on his side die in the second wave.”

  Wren could see their friends were at the cusp of their tolerance for shock and awe. She knew what this felt like—she’d felt these same emotions herself when they’d formulated their new plan as they’d hurried back to Freeland. She murmured, “I know this is a lot to take in. But, please, stick this out. We do have a plan.”

  Tom leveled a dead stare at her and said dully, “A plan.”

  She faltered and looked away, struggling to
understand and forgive his aggression toward her. It wasn’t her he was angry at, it was the horror of what was about to befall the beleaguered survivors. Tom had fought so hard for them all, protected families that were not his own, had taken desperate chances, over and over again to get the Bear Lake Outlanders to Freeland and safety, and now Coru was telling him it had all been for nothing.

  Mario looked confused, then angry. “What about us, here in Freeland? Can we fight him, this Zhang? Your brother—them—whoever?”

  Coru said, “Here’s the thing. I’m pretty certain that Zhang, alone, or Zhang, with Payton under control, is playing both sides. It’s a classic Moses move; he plays all sides and he loves to build in irony when he does. He loves an inside joke. I don’t believe this is New Pacifica against Freeland. I think he…or they—I don’t want to believe it, but I must allow the possibility—are controlling both sides, giving the illusion we have a choice, when in reality, he, or they, have had it all sewn up from the start.”

  “You think this Courlisaw guy is Zhang’s stooge?”

  “I would bet on it. That’s why we came back. Freeland, as it is, is a trap.”

  Tony was on his feet. “I’ve heard enough. We’re out of here.” Gayle and Mario stood as well.

  “No.” Coru rushed forward in protest. “Two can play this game. Knowledge is power. We form a small team, we slip into New Pacifica, we find my brother—.”

  “Are you insane? You’ll never find your brother!” Tony spat, pulling Gayle after him and heading for the door.

  Mario didn’t follow, calling after him instead, “Wait, Dad. Hear him out.”

  Coru nodded his thanks to Mario and called after his friend, “I know when the second wave comes, and I know how it goes down. We have time and knowledge on our side. I believe we can stop this second wave. We have to try. We have to, Tony, you know we do.”

  Tony stopped with his back still to the group and stood rigid.

  Coru added, “I can’t do this without you.”

  Gayle put her arm around her husband, pressed her slight body against his and whispered urgently to him. After a moment of terse conversation, Tony’s shoulder sagged, and he hugged his wife to him. They rocked together for a long moment, then turned back toward their little group, their faces shiny from shed tears. The Antonellis had nine children, all of whom were immune to the first wave of the Boy Scout Virus. Doubtlessly, the extremely poor chances of this miracle occurring a second time in their large, boisterous family had to have been the subject of Gayle’s hushed argument that they stay the course and fight with Coru.

  “What about the future…your…WEN; your time? We change this, and everything changes there as well, right?”

  “Trust me, they want change, badly. They want us to succeed. The new WEN 2341 is hell on earth. The political intrigue there results in slaughters, daily. No one knows who they can trust.”

  “What’s the plan,” Tony croaked, reaching out for his son and hugging both Mario and Gayle fiercely to his sides.

  Coru surged forward, bringing the rest of the group with him. All standing now, they surrounded the Antonellis, the true nucleus of the Bear Lake Outlanders. Coru whispered urgently, “We play both sides. If I’m right, we seize control of Freeland and make it the sanctuary it espouses itself to be. We welcome in survivors and tell them the truth, prepare them, get them ready to push back. And a small group of us slips into New Pacifica, learns all we can, wrecks any plan we can, and we get that antidote.” Coru’s eyes were burning with intensity now. “We know each other, we’ve worked together, we trust each other. If anyone can stop Zhang and my brother, it’s us. We’ve got this.”

  “We’re in,” Tom Hanson announced decisively, Gary nodding his agreement. Wren sagged with gratitude. The Hansons were a pair to be reckoned with, two towering giants you wanted on your side.

  “Thanks Tom.” Coru and Tom grasped hands, nudged their shoulders together, a gesture of solidarity. Coru repeated the action with Gary Hanson. The chances for Coru’s plan to succeed had just soared. Drawn into a tight circle now, Doug asked, “Who goes and who stays?”

  “You, and Tom and Gary, Tony and—sorry, Gayle—Mario, and Mattea, Wren and me all go to New Pacifica. Now. Today.”

  A soft sob escaped Gayle, but she stood firm at her husband’s side, facing Coru, her chin trembling, her eyes clear.

  “As soon as we have information of use to the Outlanders we send it back in teams, first with Tom and Gary, then with Tony and Mario, then Doug and Mattea will carry it back.” Coru looked at the three pair of men. “I chose you because you each have your strengths, and your skills complement one another. I trust you with my life and if anyone can pull this off, it’s you. You’ll travel back to Freeland in pairs for safety. And Gayle and the rest of the Bear Lake Outlanders will know they can trust the intel you bring back to them because it is coming from you, people they know they can trust. We’re family. Nothing can change that.”

  Now he gripped both of Gayle’s small hands in his, his expression almost worshipping the small woman’s bravery. “You, Gayle are pivotal in all this; you and the Bear Lake Outlanders. You infiltrate every level of Freeland you can, volunteer, stumble into things, sign up for duty, wander innocently into new areas, poke around, sniff out what stinks, whatever it takes. Take the measure of the survivors here, ask questions, find out how people feel, line up who you think will fall in with us and who will not. You’re good at this, Gayle, you know you are. You’re our ace in the hole.”

  Gayle swallowed and nodded, her eyes big.

  “What about this Courlisaw guy?” Tom asked, his eyes burning intently. “What if he pushes back?”

  “Wren?”

  It was Deklin, speaking up from outside the group huddle—not his favorite thing, tight groups. He extended his tablet toward her.

  She took the tablet and stared at the screen at a short video Deklin had created. Everything Coru had told her, had told them all, tumbling forward, a tsunami of horror. It hit her suddenly that somewhere deep down, she’d wanted Coru to be wrong, that this was all a mistake, a false alarm.

  Here in her hand, she knew her hopes were daydreams. She watched everything Coru had surmised from the facts proven. And so simply—even elegantly.

  She turned the tablet around for them all to see. The letters making up the name Courlisaw became animated and moved on the screen, slowly rearranging themselves. When they finally stopped, they spelled out “Coru Wisla”.

  9

  MIKE: YEAR TWO: WEN 2037

  MIKE EGGERS—SOMETIMES he had to write the name inside his palm to remind himself he was no longer naïve Payton Wisla, but up and coming investment broker, Mike Eggers—let himself into Chelsea Wood’s condo juggling two bags. One contained four bottles of gin, the other contained premade deli meals, enough for the next seven days. He knew when he returned on Friday, the bottles would be empty, and half the meals would still be stacked inside the fridge, uneaten.

  He would then toss the meals, purchase four more bottles and more meals and the cycle would continue. How was this lush still walking around?

  “Hey Chelsea. How’s my gal?” he called out in a sing-song voice he had grown to hate.

  “I’m doing great!” she declared, appearing from the living room, drink and cigarette in hand, her smile genuine at seeing him. He could hear the television in the background, set to some reality show, her current binge favorite. That was okay. The place was neat as a pin, thanks to the cleaner who came twice a week. That huge flat screen kept Chelsea happy and cemented here in the condo, where he needed her to be should her M.I.A. husband, Charles, decide to show his face one day. Or even her daughter, Wren, who would be a teenager of sixteen in this WEN. You’d think a sixteen-year-old would stop by and see her mother from time to time, wouldn’t you? But no, Wren Wood was as missing in action as her father. What had happened to the pair? Didn’t Wren have to at least go to school? She’d been something of an artistic wunderkind as an adult
, he recalled. She enjoyed a long and successful career in the art world. Maybe she was homeschooling somewhere with her eccentric father? There was no sense searching the acreage she lived on in the north—she hadn’t even bought it yet.

  The real mystery was the fact that Chelsea and Charles were divorced in the first place. That was definitely not in the histories. Something here in WEN 2037 had changed and he didn’t know why. Zhang’s interference at work, absolutely. He growled deep inside his throat. This waiting game, coiled to spring at the least encouragement, this watching for Charles or Wren to show, this relentlessly hopeless series of unsuccessful attempts to reach Zhang had worn his nerves down to the nub. He was ready to snap.

  Nothing was working out as he’d planned it.

  Chelsea followed him into her compact, sterile kitchen, but made no move to help him unpack the food or liquor. Instead she leaned against the counter, sipped her drink and watched him, her glossy eyes speculative. Lately, Chelsea had had ideas...

  When he was done with the food and made to move around her, she launched herself at him, and today, he wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. “Whoa!” she exclaimed in mock surprise, hooking her bony arm around his neck and swaying against him, her face buried into his neck, her skinny body all sharp angles and dried-up skin. He shuddered. Geez—she was old enough to be his mother!

  Fighting revulsion, he gently pried her off him and steered her giggling self before him toward the living room and the flat screen. He’d brought her the codes for two just-released block-busters and she would be thrilled. They were illegal, of course, but had been easy to obtain and would assure him a good amount of time to rake through Chelsea’s jewelry collection. There was a gold pendant he’d had his eye on forever and today was the day it would disappear….

  He had a connection downtown that was looking for such a pendant and he’d get the full price, not the watered-down leftovers from the pawnshop guy. It would be a sure twenty grand—a fraction of its value, which, when added to his cut of Chelsea’s monthly pension, another twenty-five hundred, he would buy into Jump Start, fresh on the open market, still in its infancy and destined for great things for the next three decades. He was pouring every dime he and Conrad had into the new venture and would for the next year. It would set them up.