Eden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3

by James Erith

  ‘Yes, Winkle. Of course. But without hair. Bald and burnt. It’s Kemp, your horrible friend.’

  For a moment, Archie wasn’t capable of uttering a word. ‘But how could it be Kemp? He’d been in the alley—’

  ‘Where?’ Daisy cut in.

  Archie hesitated. ‘Well, you know …’

  ‘No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Daisy said, as she started to remove her wet clothes. ‘What alley?’

  Archie wondered if he should come clean and tell Daisy about the meeting with Cain, and Cain’s offer. ‘No, it’s nothing,’ he heard himself say. ‘He just said he was going shopping in town, down the alley, that’s all.’

  ‘Strange, isn’t it?’ Daisy said as she removed her top. ‘I saw the rescue on telly this morning and at the time I thought those big lips could only belong to one person. Do you think his burn marks are from a lightning strike or a burning building?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Archie said.

  ‘Is that “dunno” you don’t know, or are you just repeating what that dimwit Kemp said?’

  ‘Eh? Oh, sorry, just trying to work out what he was saying.’ Archie said as his brain raced. Was this Cain’s doing? Even so, how on earth did he end up in a tree? Kemp could hardly swim.

  Daisy felt like smacking Archie round the head. Talking to him was like chatting to a goalpost. ‘Come on, Winkle, it’s a desperate cry for help. Shouldn’t we phone the helpline and tell them we know who it is? Don’t you think that’s our, like, duty?’

  Isabella came back into the room. ‘Can’t seem to get it going. Arch, why don’t you have a try? You’re good at that kind of thing.’

  ‘We’re going to phone the number,’ Daisy said, addressing her sister.

  ‘Phone who, about what?’

  ‘Call the emergency number and let them know we think the boy is Kemp.’

  Isabella turned on her. ‘Why? Why the hell should we do that?’

  Daisy hesitated. Isabella sounded unnecessarily sharp. ‘Well, he’s Archie’s friend—’

  ‘And my enemy,’ Isabella snapped. ‘No way. If anyone wants to claim him,’ she said, ‘let them.’ She turned away. ‘Come on, Archie, the sooner we get the generator going, the better.’

  DAISY’S HEART THUMPED. She desperately wanted to tell them about the enormous chamber, but this revelation about an unknown virus had to be the same as the images portrayed on the cave wall.

  If she was going to talk about it she’d have to pick her moment carefully; Isabella was in an argumentative mood and best avoided until she’d calmed down. She headed upstairs for a shower, which drizzled cold water.

  As she rinsed her hair, she thought about the huge building and, for a fleeting moment, wondered if she had simply imagined being there. Nah, that was impossible. It was as real as the water running down her back.

  And what were those funny old trees that spoke to her, Daisy mused, and where did the terrible screams come from? She dressed quickly and skipped down the stairs.

  When she walked in, Archie was washing his hands in the sink and Isabella was sitting in a chair with her arms folded tight across her chest, staring at the floor. Oh well, she thought, better now than never.

  ‘Right,’ she said, pulling up a chair. ‘We need to talk.’

  Archie sat down. ‘The Prime Minister’s on in ten minutes,’ he said. ‘We should watch him.’

  ‘We’ll do that after I’ve explained what happened to me earlier,’ Daisy said. ‘This is important.’

  Isabella yawned. ‘Fire away, twinkle toes.’

  ‘OK, so this is going to sound a bit crackers,’ Daisy said, pulling off her pink glasses. ‘I went to look for you this morning, Archie, and when I reached Dad’s old potato patch, I found a gate with a pearl hanging from a bush.’

  Isabella tutted.

  ‘Please, Bells, let me finish. I tried to grab the pearl and, as I reached out, I somehow fell into a ditch. When I’d dragged myself out, I was in sunshine on a small glade with three really old trees totally covered in blossom. I know it sounds impossible but the trees asked me questions—’

  Isabella groaned theatrically.

  Daisy shot her a look. ‘At first I thought I’d died, you know swallowed some infected water or something, and ignored them – but the trees insisted and eventually pointed me towards a strange platform. After a bit of hesitation, I went on to the platform and then flew off to a … a new kind of place.’

  Isabella guffawed. ‘Yes, yes, I know you disappeared, Daisy. Nice story, by the way.’

  ‘Eh? What …?’

  ‘You disappeared?’

  ‘Well, yeah.’

  ‘And do you know how I know?’

  Daisy shook her head.

  ‘Because I saw you. I watched as you moved an object on this platform of yours and then you vanished.’

  Daisy was flummoxed. ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘I found some magic panels on Old Man Wood’s bed—’

  ‘Magic—’

  ‘Yes. Panels, like TV monitors, which showed that you’d slipped away.’

  Daisy’s face had turned puce. ‘What panels, Bells? You’re talking bull,’ she said. ‘It’s not possible.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is. Happy to show you if you like.’

  The children sat silently round the table. Isabella smiling.

  ‘It’s a joke, right? You’re making fun, aren’t you?’

  But Isabella’s face didn’t change.

  Daisy was seething. ‘I knew you wouldn’t believe me but it’s true, it’s all true. One hundred percent.’ She stood up and paced around the table. ‘My dreams – our dreams – are really, really happening – right now. Everything we’ve seen, Bells, is real, not imaginary. And we’re running out of time—’

  ‘Daisy, shut up!’ Isabella snapped. ‘I told you, I saw you, OK? There’s really nothing more to say on the matter.’

  ‘Anyone fancy,’ Archie began diplomatically, ‘a slice of Old Man Wood’s starlight apple crumble? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Nothing like a good pig-out to calm the nerves, because it’s becoming perfectly clear that we’re losing the plot – big time.’

  Archie stood up, pulled some milk from the fridge and pushed a cake tin onto the table. Then he pressed the button that turned on the TV.

  Much to their surprise, it flickered into life.

  PRIME MINISTER KINGSFORD LOOKED TIRED. No amount of make-up could disguise this. He was flanked by senior government ministers and his COBRA team as he stood in front of an oak lectern.

  ‘People of the United Kingdom,’ he began, ‘Never in the annals of our history has this country faced a crisis as severe as the situation that confronts us now. This afternoon, I speak to you as your leader. I also speak to you as a husband and a father and an ordinary man. I don’t doubt that the words and actions that are about to follow will be met with shock. But I ask you all, before I say any more, to understand that the measures that are about to be imposed have been thrust upon us as a very last resort. And, therefore, I urge you to listen to what I have to say with level-headed understanding.

  ‘It is with a heavy heart that I tell you this. But I tell you so that together we may face the threat in front of us with the decency and common spirit that I know resides within the marrow of each and every one of you.’

  He shuffled nervously, his eyes hollow, his skin pale.

  ‘Following the devastating flooding of the Yorkshire area,’ he began, ‘a virus known as Ebora has emerged. It is a strain that has never been seen before. It is a freak. There is no rhyme nor reason as to Ebora’s aggressive nature. It is a silent enemy that we do not, as yet, understand, but rest assured, we will. As I speak to you now, top scientists from around the world are trying to identify its complex properties in order to find a vaccine. But they require more time.’

  The camera zoomed in on his face. ‘Earlier today I met with the COBRA team who have been working non-stop to provide the framework neces
sary to protect as many lives as possible. Their work is being actioned, as I speak, on the orders of the Government following top-level consultations.

  ‘In order to give ourselves the best opportunity to narrow its destructive path our first step is to limit the movement of people in and around the country,’

  The Prime Minister mopped his brow. ‘By morning, our hospitals will be ready with contained areas for those showing symptoms, though you may decide, as responsible citizens, that remaining at home is the best solution.

  ‘In the meantime, the following limitations are to be forced upon every person in these isles.’ The Prime Minister shuffled his notes and held a long pause. A global audience of billions reached into their sets.

  ‘From midnight tonight, a great safety net will be pulled over our land and drawn around our borders. Every airport in Britain, every railway and waterway will be vacated. Motorway traffic will be limited to emergency use only. Supermarkets, power companies, media organisations and their distribution partners will fall under the control of Government departments.

  ‘These measures are to ensure that food and necessary supplies can be provided to everyone, at the right time, without panic and without preference so that the fundamental elements of our existence can continue.

  ‘While we learn how to combat Ebora, life must go on. So, this evening, do not rush to your local stores, do not go outside for unnecessary errands or social occasions. Consider everything closed. Civil unrest will not be tolerated and the penalties for such acts will be swift and severe.’ The Prime Minister paused to sip some water. ‘Many will have noticed the presence of the military in the cities and the towns. I urge you not to be alarmed. They are there to protect you and to enforce law and order upon our nation – and for no other reason.

  ‘Local travel will be possible, but ill-advised. For the benefit of safety, internet use will be limited. Updates will be posted regularly on television channels and radio stations.

  ‘Until a vaccine is found, I cannot tell you how long these measures will be in place.’

  He paused again and looked directly into the camera. ‘In this great country of ours we have overcome many things. Together, we shall persevere. Together, we will win this fight.’

  Tears welled in his eyes. ‘Go now to your loved ones. Be safe, responsible and ever mindful. And may God bless you all. Thank you.’

  FOR A MINUTE OR TWO, the children stared open-mouthed at the screen.

  It was Daisy who broke the silence. ‘Bollocks!’ she said.

  Isabella turned on her. ‘Daisy, there’s absolutely no need to swear.’

  Daisy was shaking. ‘Yes there bloody well is!’

  ‘No,’ Isabella replied icily. ‘There isn’t!’

  ‘Yes, there shitting well is!’ Daisy yelled.

  ‘Daisy! Stop it!’ Isabella cried. ‘And anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it, you heard what the PM said.’

  ‘Isabella, how unbelievably thick are you?’ Daisy said. ‘Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it yet?’ She stood up, stamped her feet and growled. ‘This is our problem, you idiot. This is OUR BLOODY PROBLEM.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Isabella replied calmly, ‘and for God’s sake, stop swearing. Didn’t you listen to anything, anything on the telly? It’s a national problem—’

  ‘Yes, but it started here! Right here in Upsall. Don’t you see—?’

  Archie moved in. ‘Whoa! Cool it, Daise,’ he said.

  ‘Cool it!’ she roared. ‘What’s got into you both? Have you lost your minds? Seriously, which bits don’t you understand? You think you get freaky hair like that or bloody great holes in your hands or glaring red eyes every bleeding day? Really? You think these strange things happening to us are normal? Do you?’

  Isabella wasn’t having any of it and stood up abruptly. ‘Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who’s lost my mind,’ she snapped back. ‘This virus has nothing to do with us.’

  ‘It has EVERYTHING to do with us, der brain,’ Daisy spat. ‘If you’d bothered to look at the cave paintings you would have realised it is exactly what was shown. It showed a plague, like in biblical times, and three stone tablets like … like books, and they needed to be found or everyone dies.’

  ‘Oh belt up, Daisy. You’re completely overreacting.’

  ‘Me, overreacting? You’re kidding, right?’ Daisy said as she stood up and swept a mass of blonde curls off her face. She faced her sister, her face puce with anger, her red eyes burning like fire. ‘Take a hard look at yourself, Bells, and think of everything we’ve been through. Overreacting? Jeez, I really don’t think so.’ She gave both of her siblings a piercing look. ‘Seems like you two are suffering from total memory failure.’

  ‘Stop being so irrational and stupid—’

  ‘Stupid? You’re the daft ones, not me!’ There was no reaction. ‘We have to find those things that were clearly painted on the walls. This is about the three of us. It’s about all of us doing whatever we’ve got to do, together. Why don’t you get it?’

  Daisy stormed out and slammed the door. Then she opened the door again and marched back in. ‘And there’s one more thing.’

  Isabella tutted.

  ‘Yeah,’ Daisy said, ‘I’ve worked it out.’

  ‘Worked what out?’ Archie said.

  ‘What Kemp meant. You know, when he said those words, “dunno” and “algae”. I know what he was trying to say.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Isabella said.

  ‘Kemp – in the hospital bed, your holy thickness.’

  ‘Most likely he was simply trying to alert them about the water,’ Isabella said coolly.

  Daisy shook her head.

  Isabella smirked. ‘Go on then, spit it out, Professor Stephen Hawking.’

  Daisy smarted. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Oh don’t tell me – it’s yet another thing that’s sprung out of your fertile imagination,’ Isabella said, smiling thinly.

  ‘No. I know alright,’ Daisy fired back. ‘Why should I tell you when you will not open your eyes?’

  ‘Try me?’

  ‘Sod you, Isabella. Where the hell is Old Man—’

  The door opened. Old Man Wood’s head popped round the doorframe. ‘Have I missed something?’ he said, as he went over to the range and put the kettle on. ‘Everything alright?’

  ‘No, everything is not alright!’ Daisy roared, fixing him with an icy stare. ‘An epidemic is about to sweep the country following the worst flooding ever and, LA-DI-DAH, we’re the only ones who seem to know anything about it. You’re part of this, Old Man Wood, so it’s time you started telling us; what the hell is going on?!’

  SEVENTY-TWO

  LEO AND KATE

  Gus was relieving himself off the end of the boat, when, all of a sudden, a shriek and a wobble very nearly made him topple overboard.

  ‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘Give me a break!’

  Sue was yelling. At first Gus thought she was in trouble, but it quickly dawned on him that these were howls of joy. He zipped up and looked under the canopy. Sue was holding her phone, the back-light illuminating her face, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘They’re fine,’ she said. ‘Look!’ She handed him the phone.

  S + G, wow!!! U did it. So so happy – dancing at UR news! Survived. No idea how! scary + mad – not sure how real. At cottage. Phone works every now n then. Weird stuff happening. Any idea where u r? National catastrophe. SO pleased 4 U!!!! Hugs I, D, A

  Gus whistled. ‘I knew they’d do it.’

  ‘You did not,’ Sue replied, hitting him.

  ‘Course I did. They’re tougher than you think, cleverer than you think and a lot madder than you think. Not sure which goes with who, though. Must be a few stories about how they got back. No word on the other message?’

  ‘Nah. They must think I’m cuckoo.’ She wiped a tear from her eye. ‘Time for sleep, Mr Williams. It’s knackering doing nothing.’

  Gus looked up
at the night sky which, for the first time since they had been at sea, showed a wide range of stars occasionally blotted out by a woolly cloud. ‘Bit chillier tonight, and windier,’ he said. He put his hand out. ‘I reckon the wind’s changed. Can you button down the other end if I do this one?’ He pulled the sail about and jammed it into place. The boat sped forward in perfect union with the wind. He bent down under the canopy and tied off the makeshift end sections.

  Then they lay on the planks, shivering a little as he studied the compass on Sue’s phone. Set fair, South West.

  ‘I could do with a warm fire,’ Sue said, ‘wrapped up in my furry onesie watching a good movie.’

  ‘Drinking a cup of hot chocolate,’ Gus added, ‘with a pile of cream frothing on top.’ He sighed as he turned the phone off, noting the two power bars.

  ‘And marshmallows,’ Sue added.

  Gus wriggled closer. ‘Move over. You’re the worst bed hog ever—’

  ‘Me?’ Sue cried. ‘Yeah right! Your snoring keeps the fish awake.’

  Gus chuckled. ‘At least I don’t fart in my sleep!’

  She hit him on the chest. ‘Don’t be vulgar. That smell is the skanky fish guts at the bottom of the boat.’

  Gus yawned. ‘Oh, sure!’

  Sue pulled the two thick dust blankets up and rolled over so they were facing. They’d given up trying to do the lookout – it was simply too cold and for two nights not a light or another boat had been spotted. Their body warmth was a necessary comfort.

  In the pitch black, Sue put her arms around Gus and very slowly moved her head towards his. Their noses bumped and a soft snigger came out. A moment later their lips met and this time, now that he’d relaxed, it was a far more pleasant experience. Shortly, Sue broke off and rolled over. ‘Night, Gus,’ she whispered. ‘Hey, and Gus, if we don’t make it through the night, thank you. Thank you for everything.’

  He groaned.

  ‘Sweet dreams,’ she said.

  A MURMURING CAME OUT OF GUS’ mouth. He rolled one way, then the other, knocking her. Then she heard a noise. Was it Gus, or wind on the canopy?