Dream Sky

by Brett Battles

  “They look empty,” she said, taking in the two larger areas.

  “What do?”

  “The…detention areas? Is that what you called them?”

  “The first few days they were pretty full, but after Tamara’s video knocked that phony UN message off the air, the number of new arrivals decreased considerably. Out of those who still came, we’ve been able to get to most of them first.” He paused. “Now look around the grandstands. Lower deck, top end, right before it disappears.”

  Martina focused in on the seats and slowly began to pan across the stadium. “What am I looking—” She froze.

  “You see them?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dead center in her binoculars, facing the playing field, was a soldier with a rifle. She searched some more and found others, all facing the field. It was all exactly as Nyla and Gabriel had said. Granted, none of it proved this wasn’t a UN operation, but her doubt was beginning to fade.

  She refocused back on the field and noticed something she’d missed before. “There’s another fenced-in area in the outfield.”

  “As far as we can tell, it’s a special holding area. It went up a few days after the survival station opened.”

  “Why is it covered like that?”

  “We’re not sure. Maybe so people in the other enclosures can’t see inside.”

  “Maybe my friends are in there,” she said.

  “I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he said. “It’s more likely they were put in one of the other two. If any of them were sick, they would have been in the one to the left, the rest in the other.”

  “They’re immune so they wouldn’t have been put in the sick one,” she said.

  He silently cursed Nyla for putting him in the position of dealing with this. “Most of those who have survived are simply lucky, not immune.”

  “I realize that. But we’re all immune. We had the flu.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “We were all sick, you know, during the outbreak last spring. I’m pretty sure it made us all immune.”

  “How many friends are we talking about?” he asked.

  “Well, there were nine of us, but me and three of the others headed north to look for my boyfriend.”

  “Your boyfriend?”

  “He had the flu, too.”

  “And you know for a fact he’s still alive?”

  Water glistened in her eyes. “He was. He’d left messages for me on my phone. But…” She fell silent, remembering what the woman on the road had told her.

  “These five other friends of yours,” Gabriel said after a moment. “They’re the ones who went to the survival station on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Yes.”

  He stared out at the stadium, then whispered, “Is that what it’s for?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He looked at her as if he hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud. “The special enclosure. I was just…well…see, none of the other survivor stations have reported a similar space. But that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Los Angeles is the closest station to the spring outbreak. If those who had survived the spring outbreak are actually immune, this would be the station they would come to. So once Project Eden realized it, I would think they’d want to separate them from the other survivors.”

  “Who is Project Eden?”

  “That’s the people running the stations.”

  “So you’re saying you think my friends could be in there.”

  He hesitated, and then nodded. “I think it’s a possibility.”

  She lowered the binoculars, but kept her eyes on the stadium. “We have to get them out.”

  “I might be wrong. There’s a good chance they aren’t there. Besides, there are only eight of us here. That means those guys with the rifles outnumber us more than two to one.”

  “Not eight. Nine. You’re forgetting about me.”

  22

  SURVIVAL STATION, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF BELINDA RAMSEY

  ENTRY DATE—JANUARY 7, 8:00 AM CST

  THE DOCTORS DIDN’T come back until this morning. Woke us up again just like yesterday. They read more names. Sixteen. This time no one else volunteered to join them.

  I don’t feel like writing anything more.

  23

  STATE OF RAJASTHAN, INDIA

  11:53 PM IST

  NEITHER SANJAY NOR Kusum had ever been so far outside Mumbai. In fact, until the outbreak, neither had ever ventured more than a few miles from the city. That had changed when they moved to their new home at the former boarding school. As for Darshana, she had been to Goa several times to visit family, but nowhere else.

  The thing that felt the strangest was being so far from the ocean. It had always been there, a constant in their lives even if they didn’t see it every day. Now it was growing farther and farther behind them, the distance feeling somehow suffocating.

  They took the expressway, most of the time surrounded by kilometers and kilometers of untended fields, some barren and waiting to be planted, some fully grown and waiting for a harvest that would never come. There were few cars on the road, so for the majority of the trip, they were able to maintain a steady pace.

  The tense moments came as they skirted around larger cities like Akota and Ahmedabad and Udaipur. At least Mumbai was a city they had known. These others were masses of unfamiliar buildings and homes where millions had once lived. Ahmedabad was the worst. The wind was blowing in such a way that even with their windows rolled up, they could smell the death.

  It was almost a blessing when night fell and all they could see was the road in front of them. But that brought its own sense of eeriness. A land of over a billion people being so dark and unpopulated seemed impossible, as if someone had built giant blinders along the sides of the road to keep the normal life beyond out of view.

  A sign ahead announced Jaipur was only fifty-four kilometers away. Forty minutes and they would be there.

  “Would you like me to drive now?” Sanjay asked Darshana. He had taken the first shift that morning, driving for nearly six hours before turning over the duty to Kusum. Five hours after that, Darshana had assumed the driver’s seat.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “But thank you.”

  Sanjay glanced into the back to check on his wife. She was lying across the backseat, but her eyes were open.

  “We are almost there,” he said.

  “Finally.” She stretched her arms and sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Almost midnight.”

  He held out his hand and she put hers in it.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Do I look like I slept well?”

  “You always look beautiful to me.”

  She frowned, but squeezed his hand.

  “What is that?” Darshana said.

  As Sanjay turned around, Darshana flipped off the headlights and took her foot off the accelerator.

  The white glow of bright lights rose like a halo beyond a rise in the road ahead.

  “Is that the city?” Kusum asked, peeking between the seats.

  “No,” Sanjay. “I do not think so.”

  The glow seemed to be coming from just beyond the crest, far too close to be from Jaipur. It was also too concentrated to be coming from something more than a single building, and unless the highway curved drastically on the other side of the hill, it appeared to be right in the middle of the road.

  About a hundred and fifty meters from the top of the rise, Darshana let the car come to a stop without her touching the brakes. She moved the transmission into PARK and killed the engine.

  “Shall we take a look?” she asked.

  When they opened their doors, the interior dome light came on. All three reached up quickly to turn it off, but it was Kusum who got there first. They had to allow their eyes to readjust to the darkness before climbing out.

  There was a thin, shoulder-high barrier running al
ong either side of the expressway, and down the middle a shorter metal railing dividing the two directions. They moved along the side barrier until they reached a break and were able to hop down off the expressway onto the local road that paralleled it.

  They crossed the blacktop to a row of dark shops and stands, and used them to conceal their presence as they continued up the rise.

  Nearing the top, the glow grew considerably brighter, making Sanjay sure its source wasn’t much farther beyond the crest. He noticed something else, too—the light seemed to be accompanied by two distinct noises, a low hum and even lower rumble.

  Ten meters from the apex, he tapped the two women’s shoulders and motioned for them to follow him around behind the roadside restaurant they were about to pass. From there they were able to get over the crest unobserved, and then found a gap between the next two buildings wide enough for them to take it back to the other side. At the end of this alley, they peeked across the road at the expressway.

  Sanjay had been right. The source of the lights was nearby.

  Perhaps another fifty meters down the highway was a set of portable lights raised at least five meters into the sky. They were so intense that the road below them was lit up like day. Right in front of the lights, several cars had been moved into the lanes to prevent passage. There was a gap wide enough for only one vehicle to pass through. Parked in the gap was a military truck, and standing guard on either side were soldiers in all-too-familiar UN uniforms.

  A roadblock. Similar to the ones they’d seen in Mumbai. The only difference being that this one was several kilometers outside the city. Could that have had anything to do with this Director Mahajan? Did he need extra protection?

  The three spies retreated to the back of the building.

  “How are we going to get into the city?” Darshana asked.

  “They will only be guarding the major roads,” Sanjay said. He looked around at the back of the buildings. “Somewhere around here there must be a map. We find one and pick out the least likely route to be guarded.”

  They decided to hunt for one back on the other side of the rise, and found a whole stack of maps in a little market. They were able to identify four routes not too far away that they thought would give them the best chance of avoiding Project Eden soldiers.

  With the Land Cruiser’s engine off, Sanjay and Darshana pushed on the back as Kusum steered the vehicle in a U-turn. The downhill slope of the road was enough that the SUV started to gain a little speed as it came out of the turn, forcing Sanjay and Darshana to hop in on the run.

  The first turnoff came to quickly for them to take, but the second was far enough away that they thought they could use the brakes without the brake lights being seen. After they were off the expressway, they started the engine and, keeping their headlights off, worked their way past fields and small villages until they found the road they were looking for.

  The gamble paid off, and soon they entered Jaipur.

  As much as they all would have liked to get a look at the survival station, the tension of the last fifty minutes had added to their exhaustion. They found a small hotel down a dark, narrow street and, at Kusum’s suggestion, used one of the rooms with two beds so that Darshana would not be alone.

  As Sanjay emptied his pockets onto the tiny round table by the bed, he pulled out the phone Arjun had given him. He had totally forgotten about it during the journey. Curious, he touched the button that brought it to life, but never having had a smartphone himself, he was unsure how to access the picture his friend had put on there.

  “Problem?” Darshana asked. She was sitting on her bed while Kusum was down the hall using the toilet.

  “The picture from the Americans is on here. I don’t…” He paused, embarrassed. “I don’t know how to look at it.”

  She stood up. “May I try?” He tossed her the phone, and within seconds she said, “Here we go.”

  A moment after she handed it back, Kusum returned, but Sanjay barely noticed. He stared at the phone.

  “Sanjay?” Kusum said. “Is something wrong?”

  It took a moment for him to realize she was talking to him. He turned the screen so she could see.

  “The man they want us to watch for, he was Director Dettling’s assistant in Mumbai,” he said. “It is van Assen.”

  EN ROUTE AMSTERDAM TO JAIPUR

  FOUR AND A HALF HOURS FROM DESTINATION

  WILLEM VAN ASSEN finished the last of his coffee and carried his empty cup to the galley. Though he had his pick of first-class seats, there were no flight attendants.

  A shame, really. There was nothing like having all your needs taken care of while you were whisked across the globe.

  He peeked through the closed curtain into the business-class section. The plane, an Airbus A330-300 with a capacity of carrying 295 people, had only fourteen other passengers on this flight. Thankfully, they were all security team members. By Project regulations, this meant they were assigned to the economy section or, if available, business class, but never first.

  Technically, van Assen wasn’t supposed to be using first class either, but no one was more senior than he on the flight, so he had taken the liberty and assigned himself to the foremost cabin. As he’d expected, no one had questioned him.

  Most of the security team appeared to be asleep, though a few people were either reading or watching a movie on the video system. No one had told van Assen why the others were on the plane, but it was easy to guess. Director Mahajan’s status within the Project had just been elevated to the very top. Increasing the security around him would be a natural consequence.

  Van Assen let the curtain fall back into place and returned to his seat, hoping to get a few hours of rest before they arrived.

  As he closed his eyes, he thought once more about his situation within the Project. His new position was definitely a step in the right direction, so why was he feeling uneasy?

  The simple answer would have been because he was heading back to India, where things hadn’t gone so well on his last assignment. But that wasn’t it.

  The truth was harder to pinpoint. It was more a sense, really, a feeling that something was off within the Project itself. Not the goals or the steps being taken to achieve them—those were rock solid, as far as he was concerned—but more with the actual membership.

  He had noticed it first with Senior Manager Dettling in Mumbai after the prisoners had escaped. It was a loss of confidence, as if the faith Dettling had had in the Project was crumbling.

  After van Assen realized this, he began to see the signs in others. Little things—missed details, far-off looks, drifting attention spans, and perhaps not verbal but visual signs of second-guessing.

  Was he reading too much into things? And if he wasn’t, did any of it really matter?

  Probably not. The Project was on the proverbial rails and could not be stopped now.

  Still, the unease wouldn’t go away.

  He’d have to keep an eye on things, and if need be, act decisively.

  For the Project.

  And, maybe a little bit, to help his own rise to the top.

  It was this last thought, this comforting vision of a future where he had a say in decisions, that finally relaxed his mind enough for him to fall asleep.

  24

  WARD MOUNTAIN NORTH, NEVADA

  1:09 PM PST

  “I DON’T CARE, Dad. You’ve still got a long way to go before you’re better, and getting only a few hours of sleep every night isn’t helping. You’re going to lie down now.”

  Josie had given Ash that little speech right after they finished breakfast. She and Brandon had then escorted him back to their quarters and waited until he climbed into bed.

  “We’re going to be standing outside the door to make sure no one bothers you,” Brandon told him. “So don’t even think about sneaking out.”

  “Wait,” Ash said. “If something comes up, I need to—”

  “Dad, you need to sleep,” Josie said. A
s if she could read his mind, she grabbed the stack of Matt’s journals on the shelf by the bed and added, “There’ll be no pretending to sleep, either. We’ll be checking.”

  He lay back on his pillow. “Okay, fine. Whatever you say, warden.”

  He had thought he’d rest his eyes for maybe twenty minutes, a show of good faith, then he’d get up and they would let him out. But, like his nap the night before, when he opened his eyes again, hours had passed.

  Apparently, his honor guards had decided they were no longer necessary because they were gone when he exited the room.

  Anxious to find out if Caleb had made any progress, Ash made his way back to the comm trailer. As he entered, Mya and Devin looked over from the terminals they were using.

  “For God’s sake, shut it,” Devin said, shivering.

  Ash stepped inside and closed the door.

  “Oh, sorry, Captain. I didn’t realize it was you.”

  “Yeah, he’s a dick to most other people,” Mya said to Ash.

  “How’s it going?” Ash asked, walking over to them.

  “We’ve recorded forty-seven video conversations and nearly three times as many audio,” Mya said.

  “Anything of interest?”

  “You’ll have to ask Crystal. She’s set up some people to go through them all. It’s taking all our effort just to keep up with the volume. No time to listen in.”

  “I’ll check with her, then.”

  “That’s not the best part, though,” Mya said.

  “Is that right? Then what is?”

  She looked at Devin. “It’s your thing.”

  Devin grinned but said nothing.

  “You’re not getting a drumroll, if that’s what you’re waiting for,” Mya said. “Just tell him.”

  Devin shot her a quick, dirty look before saying to Ash, “I’ve been able to tap into their computer system.”

  Ash stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  Before Devin could answer, Mya said, “Not to take all the wind out of his sails, but some of the credit goes to Arjun and Prabal.”