The Eden Conspiracy: Book 2 of The Liberty Box Trilogy

Home > Other > The Eden Conspiracy: Book 2 of The Liberty Box Trilogy > Page 4
The Eden Conspiracy: Book 2 of The Liberty Box Trilogy Page 4

by C. A. Gray


  “Thanks,” I said. “You must all have more than one weapon on you since there are a lot more hunters than there are Council members at this point.”

  Stone grunted and puffed, and sweat popped out on his forehead.

  “Don’t strain yourself,” I told him. “You’re going to need your strength. I told you I wouldn’t leave you here to starve, but you’re still in for a long night.”

  After arming myself and taking what remained of Stone’s water and of the rope and usable portions of the cloth, I glanced around, memorizing a few key landmarks so that I’d know how to direct the Crone or whoever else back to retrieve him. Then I set off in the direction in which we’d come.

  I wasn’t sure if all the hunters had done as I had, leading their Council guards out into the woods and attempting escape, but I hoped not, since that would end in death for most of them. If they had stayed more or less together, and obedient, things would be much easier for me.

  There. One hundred yards away. I wasn’t sure if it was a beast or a hunter and his captor yet, but—ah. Two creatures, of near equal size, though they weren’t moving much. Must be the latter.

  I gained on them as I followed, a pebble fitted to my slingshot in case I needed it. Not big enough to kill, but big enough to stun.

  I heard them whisper. They weren’t loud enough for me to make out what they’d said, but I recognized the voices: Will and Taylor.

  I approached Taylor from behind and to the right. I was almost upon him when he heard me, and whirled to point the gun in my face. I knocked it away and punched him once. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  Will looked at me, stunned.

  “Help me tie him,” I said, thrusting the rope at Will along with the knife.

  We bound and gagged Taylor before he ever woke. Will kept sneaking incredulous glances at me as we worked. “Why are you helping me?”

  I shrugged. “You were the first one I came upon. And you’re on our side, aren't you?” I glanced at him. “Besides, we all owe you.”

  He thought about this for a minute, and then nodded.

  “That said, no offense, but you’re no hunter. You’ll give me away,” I told him. “Go back to camp if you can find your way, and hang out nearby, but not so near that you’ll be seen. I’m going after the rest of the hunters, and we’ll be back to get as many of the refugees as want to come.”

  “Come where?” asked Will.

  “Beckenshire,” I shrugged. “That’s what you suggested. Seemed like a good idea to me.”

  Chapter 5: Kate

  Minus the hunters and the other Council members, there were sixty-three of us left in the clearing where we’d had dinner—including children. We were all eerily silent except for the whimpers and occasional cries of the children, who were too young to understand what was happening. The Crone watched us with unblinking eyes, flanked by her two silent bodyguards.

  Molly, Rachel, Brittany and I bundled up the berries and few root vegetables we’d been able to salvage that grew wild in the forest, but we had nothing but the clothes on our backs to use to transport them. I wore a faded long sleeve t-shirt beneath my threadbare flannel. I knew I’d need the flannel for warmth, so I stripped off the t-shirt, trying to ignore the leer from the Crone’s bodyguards as they watched me. I gritted my teeth, imagining his face after I’d smashed my elbow into his nose. I replaced and buttoned the flannel as quickly as I could. Then I tied off the bottom and the sleeves, so that the only opening was the neck, and hoped that my knots would hold. I could loop the sleeves around and suspend them from my neck, though that didn’t seem like it would be particularly comfortable while walking long distances.

  Brittany took her two-year-old’s blanket, much to the little girl’s chagrin, and piled the center of it as high as she could and still tie it closed. Molly showed her how to create loops for her arms, so that she could wear it like a backpack, while the bulk of the food sunk down low enough that it wouldn’t spill out from the opening. Tears quietly streamed down Brittany’s face as she worked, and every now and then Rachel leaned over and squeezed her shoulder. Both of them had been widowed before the age of thirty. I couldn’t imagine.

  Well, come to think of it, up until yesterday I thought I’d been essentially widowed too.

  I think mostly Brittany was afraid of the journey—and I could hardly blame her. Passing through Hampton, getting on the bullet trains, fighting off agents, and getting on a decommissioned plane with a pilot who hadn’t flown in years, when many of us had never even seen a plane before. There were so many opportunities for things to go wrong. It was staggering. And then, half of us would get left behind, to hide from or fight off agents on our own, hoping that we could survive until Taylor came back for us. Assuming he ever did.

  “I don’t know why we don’t just go through the forest on foot,” I murmured to Molly, filling my shirt with food. “I know it’ll take longer, but there are fewer opportunities to die. How likely is it that the army will find us in the forest if we just keep moving?”

  “Apparently the Crone thinks faster is safer,” Molly whispered back to me. She’d taken off her bra beneath her shirt, and was filling the cups with food, sealing it somewhat inefficiently by tying the back strap in a knot. “Also, even if many of the group agrees with you, I don’t think they’d be willing to risk the journey on their own without the Crone.”

  “Why? Does she know much about travel?” I whispered, trying on my makeshift pack full of food. Nope. It felt like I was choking. I tried the other way, hanging it to the front; functional, though it would give me a headache after not too long. I carried my tension in my shoulders as it was, and right now they felt like little rocks, even without the extra weight.

  “She’s been our leader for years. She’s harsh, but that’s her way. It’s how she gains compliance. The people trust her,” Molly told me. “Also, I hadn’t been aware that she was a baroness, but I don’t doubt it. She carries herself that way. If that’s true, I don’t think we’d want to arrive in New Estonia without her. I suspect they consider us to be their enemies just as much as the Republic considers New Estonia to be ours.” As she said this, she sealed the bra cups together using a few safety pins that had previously held her ill-fitting wraparound skirt together; now it flapped immodestly in the breeze. She didn’t seem to mind. She tried on the finished the product like a backpack, though a few berries spilled out through the seams.

  “Clever,” I whispered to her. She gave me a tight smile.

  “Won’t be too comfortable walking without it,” she whispered back, indicating her ample breasts beneath her loose t-shirt. “But better than going hungry.”

  I tried not to think about what was happening in the forest. The hunters, including both Will and Jackson, weren’t exactly known for their compliance, and guns against slingshots didn’t make for good odds.

  But even if all of the hunters came back in one piece tonight, how long would that last? Molly might call the Crone ‘harsh,’ but I couldn’t purge the image of Uruguay Stone hitting Will and flashing his gun around. She might have admonished him for his unnecessary violence, but she didn’t keep him in check, that was for sure.

  Jackson would fight the Council; that I knew. I saw it in his eyes as he went into the forest at the point of Uruguay Stone’s gun. Will would fight too. So would Molly, and Nick, and Alec, and probably most of the hunters. I looked around our little camp and counted the others whom I knew would stand with us.

  Whatever her motivations, the Crone’s and the Council’s dictatorship would almost certainly end in more bloodshed. The only question was, whose?

  “You could carry more food in that flannel of yours,” the Crone’s guard suggested, undressing me with his eyes. “Don’t want to leave anything behind.”

  “Go to hell,” I told him.

  His face darkened. “What’s that?” He took a few threatening steps toward me. “I believe I heard the Crone say we would
not tolerate insubordination.”

  I took an involuntary step backwards. Behind me, Brittany’s little girl Janet burst into tears. I glanced at the Crone for help, but she had her back to us.

  The guard took another step toward me, closing the distance between us. “That means you have to do what I say.” He reached for my shirt, fumbling with the buttons.

  Click.

  “I don’t think so,” said Nick as he stepped out of the shadows, aiming the barrel of his gun at my assailant. Right behind him, Will, Alec, Jacob, and Roger Dunne also emerged, all of them armed.

  The bodyguard stepped back, his hands in the air, and I ran to Will’s side in relief.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the Crone snapped. “Put down your weapons at once!”

  “Your boy here was just trying to feel up my fiancee, that’s what,” Will snapped at her, looping an arm around me. “Not exactly the kind of ‘leadership’ we were hoping for.”

  “Well then, he was acting without my consent and he shall be punished. And so shall you be for your rebellion! Where are the other Council members? Where did you get those weapons? I assure you that you do not wish to defy me!”

  “Oh yes,” Nick growled. “We sure do.” He looked at the rest of us and announced, “The hunters are going to Beckenshire. It will be dangerous getting there, potentially dangerous staying there, and what we plan to do afterwards will most likely get us all killed. With that full disclosure, anyone who wants to come along is more than welcome. But you must decide now.”

  I kept turning, scouring the shadows. Where’s Jackson?

  “Have you murdered all of my Council members?” demanded the Crone.

  Brian stepped out of the shadows next, also bearing a weapon and aiming it at the Crone. “Nope,” he said, “they’re all alive, just bound and gagged, and most of them, unconscious.”

  Pete emerged beside him next. The hunters formed a semi-circle, all with weapons drawn. Molly let out a joyful sob. “When we leave,” said Pete, “we’ll give you specific instructions of how to find them all.”

  The Crone watched the hunters for a silent moment, before she muttered, “This was the boy from Iceland’s doing.”

  Nick ignored this and shouted again, “Anyone coming with us, choose right now!”

  I grabbed my satchel of food, and moved toward them. Will grabbed my shoulder and pulled me behind him when I was in range. Molly moved with me. So did Rachel, Jean, Brenda Halfpenny, Nelson Armstrong, Sam and Violet, and a few others—those I had already identified in my head as rebels. The rest stayed put, wide-eyed and fearful.

  “Brittany!” I hissed, signaling her to come. She looked at me, and looked at Janet, who now seemed too frightened to cry. But Brittany didn’t move.

  “Brittany!” I insisted, “for heaven’s sake!”

  She looked paralyzed in terror. But she looked at the Crone. I had the impression that most of the other mothers with children were waiting for her decision to see what they should do, too.

  “She’s… trying to take us to safety,” Brittany said at last. “I—I don’t want to risk any more than I have to!” She burst into tears.

  “But you have no hunters, and no weapons now!” I told her. “Without them, the plan doesn’t stand a chance!”

  “No matter,” the Crone fixed her glare upon me. “The plan will change according to our—shifting resources. But I assure you, Ms. Brandeis, that we shall survive, while those who oppose me shall perish. Count on that.”

  Last of all, Jackson emerged from the shadows. My heart leapt with relief when I saw him, and Will’s grip tightened on my shoulder.

  The Crone’s beady eyes flashed when Jackson appeared, and for once her calm demeanor crumbled to reveal her anger.

  “I will make you a deal,” she murmured, though it was unclear to whom she was speaking. “I will allow the rest of you to leave, in exchange for him.” She pointed her bony finger at Jackson. “Just him.”

  Nick laughed, and even Jackson suppressed a smile.

  “First of all,” called Jacob, “not sure if you’ve noticed, but you’re not exactly in a position to deal. And second, if we left him, you’d be sorry in a hurry. Guarantee it.”

  “He will not pose a threat with every Council member watching him at once, if they are alive as you say!” she snapped. “We need him. We need his mind. The rest of you be damned!”

  She turned back to Nick, and her tone changed to butter. “I understand that I am not in a strong bargaining position right now. But if you do not agree to this request of mine, and if we are caught on our journey, we shall betray your plans to the authorities. You will all find yourselves before the firing squad.” She raised her eyebrows. “Give me Jackson. If you will not do it to save the lives of all of your comrades here, then do it to save your own.”

  I expected Nick to laugh in her face again, but he didn’t; he frowned, and said nothing.

  “Like hell we will!” I shouted. “We need Jackson more than you do!” Again, I expected the others to back me up. But nobody did. “He’s one of us!” I insisted. Will tightened his grip on my shoulder even more.

  “You cannot possibly be considering this?” I demanded of Nick. “He just saved all of you out there, didn’t he? Now you’re going to leave him behind, with them?”

  “I’m not considering it,” said Nick, “I’m considering how best to prevent her from betraying us later.”

  Several of the other young mothers began to cry. One of them shouted, “If you hurt her, then you sentence us all to death!”

  “I realize that, hence my dilemma,” murmured Nick.

  “Kill her, and then they can all come with us!” shouted Alec.

  “Against their will?” said Nick, and shook his head. “No. With or without her interference, chances are high that we will all end up before the firing squad anyway.”

  “I say we turn him over to them!” shouted Rachel, whirling on Jackson. I gaped at her, horrified, as she shouted, “At least it gives us a better chance of survival, doesn’t it?”

  “You think we’d survive better without him than with him?” demanded Roger Dunne. “Think again, girl.”

  Nick stared at Rachel, contemplating her with his jaw locked. At last, he said, “You are no longer welcome here. Go back with the others.”

  Her mouth fell open, and her eyes filled with tears. “But—I was just saying—”

  “You were just trying to save your own skin at the expense of one of our allies, and we cannot have traitors among us. You are not welcome.”

  The tears spilled over Rachel’s cheeks now, and she wept in earnest.

  “Let her come,” said Jackson quietly. “Who knows what the Crone will do to her for siding with us, if we leave her behind.”

  “I am not a murderer, boy!” the Crone rasped at Jackson, pointing her bony finger at him. “You are the murderers!”

  Jackson ignored her, still speaking to Nick. “Let her come. For Kenny’s sake.”

  Nick looked at Jackson, pursed his lips, and nodded. “I’ll do it for your sake,” he said. Then he turned back to the Crone.

  “We’ll leave instructions on how to find your Council members along the edge of the ravine about half a day’s journey in the direction of Beckenshire. That way you’ll have to backtrack to collect them, and even if you wanted to follow us we’ll have quite a head start. Also, we have all your weapons now, and Jackson here overpowered every one of your Council members even when they were armed and he was not. So I wouldn’t recommend you come after us anyway. It won’t end well for you if you try, I can promise you that.”

  “You’ve signed your own death warrants as well as ours!” the Crone shouted after us, as we disappeared into the forest.

  Chapter 6: Jackson

  From eight hundred, to eighty, to twenty, I thought, looking around as we walked along the edge of the cliffs by the light of the moon. The odds just keep getting better and better.<
br />
  I fell into step beside Nick and Molly, who held hands. Molly’s brassiere backpack leaked nuts and berries every few steps. Under different circumstances it might have been funny.

  “So,” I said, just trying to break the silence.

  “So,” said Nick, looking across Molly and giving me a tired smile.

  “The Crone was a baroness,” I said. They both nodded. “Why come here then? Why didn’t she just stay in New Estonia?” I thought I knew the answer even as I asked, though—probably New Estonia had heard the same rumors I’d heard in Iceland, about the prosperity and opportunities in the Republic.

  “She emigrated to the United States as a girl,” Nick told me. “At the time, the United States was the world superpower, and New Estonia was still small and underdeveloped. The only reason she had the opportunity to come was because by New Estonian standards, she came from privilege. She had more title than money. Her family thought she’d be better off in the States.”

  “Was she?” I asked.

  Nick shrugged, and Molly answered. “She didn’t talk much about those days. All we know is that she settled on the east coast of the United States, in the former state of Massachusetts. I guess other New Estonian immigrants came because of her, so in addition to her own kids and grandkids who were already here with her, she became the uncontested leader of all the other immigrants and their families too.”

  “I gathered there were a few hundred immigrants in their little enclave at the time of the Crash,” said Nick. “Most of them died in the rioting, or died of starvation. Not surprising, since some seventy percent of the United States population died from one or the other. That’s why there are so many ghost towns now.”

  “Why didn’t she just go back to New Estonia then?” I wondered aloud.

 

‹ Prev