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Escape from Eden (Original Series book 2)

Page 2

by Rachel McClellan


  I wake early before our morning call. The sky is gray outside our small window, but as soon as it glows yellow this place will become an anthill. Everyone has his or her assigned duties that rotate weekly, and we all scurry along, working hard, to make sure our little community runs smoothly.

  All of us clean, build, cook, and work outside, but those of us who have requested it also learn to fight. Two hours a day is set aside for training, learning everything from shooting, fencing, martial arts, to whatever skills we have a trainer for. Because I know several fighting techniques, thanks to my father, I was quickly made a martial arts instructor. When I'm not teaching, however, I learn what I can about other weapons, like guns. I don’t have a lot of experience with them. Something about wielding a weapon that could cause instant death makes me extremely nervous. I’m hoping to overcome that, as someday I may need it.

  I’m working outside again today clearing a space for the new barracks, a job I’ve been doing for the last six weeks. It’s always easy to get someone to trade with me as no one likes working outside in the cold, but I prefer it to cleaning inside, making our artificial food or teaching at our small school.

  I’m careful to slide off my top bunk to keep from waking the others in my room. Willow, a girl of eight, is below me, breathing in and out wisps of her long hair as she sleeps. The other six women are asleep in their beds too. All but one.

  “Morning, Stella,” I whisper as I pass.

  She looks up briefly from the lit up book in her hands and smiles, wrinkling her dark skin, but doesn’t respond. Stella is almost seventy, one of the oldest Originals at Eden. She came here about five years ago. I was told that people had tried to get her to talk about her time on the outside, but she never would. Now all anyone ever did was treat her like a piece of furniture that occasionally needed to be scooted around.

  I liked her though, her quiet serenity. Even though she seemed content to remain alone, she took a keen interest in me the day I arrived, becoming sort of a mentor and teacher. She gave me book after book to read that explained everything about the island, from our history to the creatures that inhabited it. She even quizzed me afterwards, making it sort of a game until I absorbed it all.

  The hallway is much colder than my room, and I wrap my sweater tighter around me. With many metal walls and a metal roof, the compound is extremely drafty. That was my first question when I arrived. Why all the metal? Jerry had explained that it was a special alloy that acted as a camouflage should the Institute ever scan the island for anything unusual. No humans beneath it would be detected. As for any humans outside the buildings, the Institute would expect to see some humans mingled with the mutant population. It wasn't just Prime's who got banished here.

  That’s why my father and a few others chose Purgatory Island to be an Original safe haven almost thirty years ago—the Institute would never suspect it. With the help of a few Prime sympathizers, they created H.O.P.E: Helping Originals Protect Eden. Over the years, this program had helped to save hundreds of Originals who were being hunted by the Institute for their untainted DNA.

  I turn the corner and head down another long hallway. It’s challenging to keep my footsteps quiet against the floor, but I try. Inside the rooms I pass, I hear a few people stirring. I need to hurry.

  It takes almost five minutes to cross the huge compound to the executive branch where Jerry’s office is located. The leadership on the island is patterned after the first government of the United States of America before it was fundamentally transformed over two centuries ago. Jerry was elected president a few years back, but no one calls him that. With such a small population, people never adapted to the formal title. To them, he is just Jerry Brighton.

  Just as I expect, Jerry is in his office sitting behind a desk. He takes his position seriously, and the burdens of caring for so many people often show on his ruddy face. Behind him, a fire in a small fireplace burns brightly. It’s about as constant as Jerry’s worry.

  When he sees me, he sighs and sets his pen down. “Like I said last week, you’ll be the first to know if anyone makes contact from the outside. It’s simply too early. The magnetic fields—"

  “Aren’t ready, I know,” I finish for him. “That’s not why I’m here.”

  This sparks his interest, and he leans back into his chair. I rarely talk to him about anything else, especially this early in the morning.

  I sit in a chair across from him, my hands fidgeting. I know what I’m about to ask won’t go over well, but I have to make him understand.

  “What is it, Sage?” he asks.

  I curl my fingers into my palms. “I need to get off this island. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  He blinks. Then blinks again. “No one asks to get off the island.”

  “I am.”

  He reaches up and smoothes back his red hair from his receding hairline. “And how do you think you’re going to do that?”

  “The same way we came. I’ll go through the tunnels and, if you’ll let me, have someone use the submarine to get me back to the mainland. If you won’t, then I’ll use one of the canoes.” Saying this out loud makes my chest tighten. The last time I was in those tunnels, I breathed so hard from being in that small space that I nearly passed out. Ever since then, I have been practicing my breathing to help me overcome my fear, even putting myself in crowded, tight places deliberately. As long as I stay focused, I do pretty well.

  His eyebrows scrunch together. “Either way, what you’re asking is extremely dangerous. I don’t know what kind of condition the tunnel is in after such a bad winter so I’d be risking the lives of any men I send with you, but if you do it alone someone could see you rowing the boat and that puts everyone at risk.”

  I tighten my lips. He’s right. Either way would be dangerous. There has to be another way.

  “What about Max?” he asks.

  “I’m doing this for Max,” I say, knowing this is a half-truth. I laid awake most of the night thinking about what Link had said. I don’t want Max to live his life here, not when there was a whole world to explore. His potential would be wasted on the island. He’d never know what it was like to live in a normal home, go to college, or have a real career. This led to the real truth: for any of that to happen, I need to fulfill my vow by getting off this island and helping HOPE topple the Institute once and for all. I know I'm not as strong or fast as Primes, but Anthony had told me once that there was power in words. I don't know what I could possibly say to make a difference, but I want to try.

  Jerry rests his elbows on the desk next to a framed drawing of his teenage daughter. She’s a couple of years younger than me. “Maybe late spring when the weather is warmer and the ground is more stable. Then we can send people out to inspect and repair the tunnel.”

  “I can’t wait that long,” I blurt but instantly regret it.

  He leans forward, his nostrils flaring. “Are you really that selfish? You’d risk the lives of Originals just so you can return to a world that would imprison you? And that’s if you’re—”

  “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry,” I say, wanting him to stop. “I just feel useless here. I need to be out there trying to make things right.”

  He sits straighter in his seat, his shoulders dropping a little. “No one is useless here. Everyone’s contribution is extremely important. As for out there, what do you think you can do? You’re still a child."

  It’s my turn to lean forward. “I’m eighteen now, which is older than a lot of Primes. The people out there just need to learn to care again, to have hope for their future. The Institute has taken this away from them."

  He laughs, but it’s a tired sound. “And you think you are the one to get them to care and hope again?”

  I think of Colt and our kiss. Not that I am going to go around kissing everyone, but when I first met Colt he couldn’t even stand to be touched. “I want to try. I think it would be good for Primes to see an Original fighting alongside them. It might give them hope i
f they think Originals believe the Institute can be defeated.”

  There’s a knock at the open door behind me.

  “Mike and the others are waiting,” Arlo, Jerry’s right hand man and Eden's Vice President, says. The small doorway makes him appear taller than he actually is.

  Jerry nods his head. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  After Arlo exits the room, Jerry says, “I’m not opposed to you wanting to leave and try to make the world better. In fact, I admire it, but I won’t put any of our lives at risk so you can chase your dream.” He stands, the wooden legs of the chair screeching against the metal floor. “Come see me at the end of April. I’ll be sending a few people off the island for supplies. If you still want to leave, you can go then.”

  “But that’s in six weeks!”

  He rounds his desk and goes to the door. “Patience, Sage. Your time will come.”

  He leaves before I can say anything else. I sink into the chair. Six weeks? My heart races and the walls grow closer together until my chest constricts. I should stop and focus. Slow breaths, just like I taught myself, but right then, I just want to run. I jump to my feet and flee the room before I grow faint on top of everything else.

  The hallway is no better. The walls narrow and the floor appears to bend, distorting the images around me. I run fast, my heavy steps rattling the floor.

  “Sage!” Max calls.

  I don’t stop. I take a right and then a left. So many turns that I think I may be lost in this maze. Then I see it. Sunlight, squeezing beneath a closed door just ahead. I don’t even slow when I reach it.

  With arms outstretched, I go through the door with a bang, then suck in as much fresh air as my lungs can handle. The rapid rise and fall of my chest slows along with the world’s spinning motion.

  A hand gently touches my back. “Are you okay?”

  I glance over my shoulder. Max’s light eyebrows are drawn together, and his mouth is pressed tight. I smile and straighten. “Of course. I just needed some fresh air.”

  He circles in front of me. “Were you just talking to Jerry?”

  “I was seeing if there were any updates from the outside.”

  “And was anything different from yesterday?”

  At least he hasn’t lost his keen sense of observation. “Have you been spying on me?”

  He surprises me by throwing his arms around my waist. “You want to leave, don’t you?”

  I rub his back and lower my chin to the top of his head. “What makes you say that?”

  It’s a few seconds before he answers. He lets me go and steps away. “I know you better than anyone. You’re suffocating here."

  I look past him toward the wall wishing it were transparent. “It’s hard being in here knowing Anthony and the others are out there fighting. I want to help. But—” I take his hands— “I don’t regret coming here. You will always be my priority.”

  He squeezes back. “I know that, but I’m okay now. I like it here. I fit in.”

  “You fit in before.”

  “I was trapped before.”

  I search his vibrant blue eyes; they look so much like our mother's. The question I hadn’t wanted to ask for fear of the answer finally comes now. “What did Dad do to you?”

  His strong little shoulders shrug. “I only remember bits and pieces, like flashes. Dad gave me some kind of injection right into my bone. It hurt really badly, but when I woke up my mind was clear. I could see everything around me, not just fragments.”

  “He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “He freed me, Sage.”

  “But we don’t know the consequences. What if he just shortened your life by fifty years?”

  He lets go of my hands. “For the first time in my life I have friends I can actually play with and talk to, but most importantly I can take care of myself now. You’re free. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I can live on the island the rest of my life and be happy.”

  I pull him close and wrap my arms around him. “I will always worry about you. I don’t care how well you speak or how many friends you have. You are my brother, and I love you.”

  Pinks and oranges of the morning sunrise spill over the top of the wall. A bell sounds from within the compound, sending several brightly-colored birds flying from nearby trees.

  “About time,” Max says and lets me go. “I’m starving! I hope we’re having pancakes.”

  I laugh. “I guess you haven’t changed that much.”

  “Come on,” he says and pulls me along. “If we hurry, we might get two.”

  I walk after him, my resolve to leave the island even stronger. Max may be able to take care of himself on the island but for how long? Eden can’t stay a secret forever. Max will only be free if the Institute is destroyed once and for all.

  3

  “I can’t believe you cleared this whole area by yourself,” Link says, his head shaking back and forth. “Did you work all night?”

  “Only until I couldn’t see anymore, and then I got up early. Jerry should be able to start building now.” I had worked as much as I could this last week, from sun up to sun down. The overgrown bushes and gnarled vines that once covered the small slope had all been cleared. Only a dozen or so trees remained, and they would serve as the support beams that the rest of the structure would be built from. The only problem Jerry might encounter was building on this ground. It was extremely muddy.

  “But why are you working so hard?” Link asks. “It’s weird.”

  “So is making everyone cram into that compound. The population is growing and no one’s taking it seriously. What happens when Originals no longer fit inside these walls?”

  Link looks up, his eyes darting back and forth between the tree branches. The sun is directly above him and reflects in his green eyes. “The Institute will find us before then.”

  His answer surprises me. “So you’ve thought about this. Do you think anyone else has?”

  “We all have. That's why we're all taught to fight at such a young age, but no one actually talks about it."

  I sigh and lean into the shovel in my hands. The soonest I can get off this island is in five weeks when Jerry sends men out for supplies. I tried for days to find another solution, but there simply wasn’t one. Unless I go by myself, but that would be suicide.

  “Let’s get some lunch,” Link says.

  I’m about to agree when I hear something in the distance, a sound that shouldn’t be in this place. “What is that?”

  Link cocks his head to the side and listens. His eyes grow wide. “It’s an airship. Run!”

  He pushes me in front of him, and I stumble forward into a full-on sprint. This is the first time I’ve heard an airship come anywhere near Purgatory Island. No one comes this way, unless—

  “Do you think they found us?” I call over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know. Just get to the compound.”

  This is the third rule on the Rule Boards: hide within the compound whenever you hear an airship. It comes right after ‘Be kind and respect others’.

  Even though I can’t see it yet, the humming of the ship grows closer. I push hard up a steep incline. When my foot slips, and I almost go down, Link catches me and helps me forward again. Off to my left, a few others are racing back. One of them has a face as white as snow and looks like he’s going to throw up.

  “Hurry!” a woman calls to us from the entry of the compound. She and a few others are waving us in.

  I sprint inside and search for Max on the east side of the complex where he was assigned to laundry duty, but it’s difficult to get through the narrow hallways. Everyone is running in all directions, probably doing what I’m doing: searching for the ones they love. A hand grabs me from behind.

  I turn around. Stella smiles and pulls me back into a crowd of people. I go with her. She knows exactly what I want. After only a minute, I spot the top of Max’s head hiding among many others.

  “Thank you, Stella,” I say. I s
queeze her hand gently, and she nods in acknowledgement.

  I let go of her and push my way to Max. When I reach him, he visibly relaxes.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, his face flushed.

  I take his hand and pull him toward the entrance. “This way.”

  If this is a raid, I want us to be the first ones out. I know exactly where we’d go. I came up with a plan the first day we arrived. My father always taught me how important it is to have an exit strategy in every situation.

  Max is close against my back as we make our way through the crowded hallway to the mudroom, a large area near the front door. It's just as crowded. I try not to think about how many people are taking up the small space, breathing in the air my lungs so want to inhale. Keep it together. I focus on my breathing, as I squeeze between a few people to get closer to a window, taking Max with me. Not far away, I spot Link with his brother and parents. He makes eye contact with me and flexes his jaw.

  “Everyone calm down,” Jerry says from the entrance. “We don’t know what this is. It could just be a drop.”

  There’s a collective gasp from most of the group.

  “But there hasn’t been a drop in over two years,” a man’s voice says from the other side of the room.

  “That doesn’t mean the Institute isn’t still doing them,” Jerry responds.

  I peer out the window toward the sky. If the Institute is about to drop someone out of an airship, that person won’t have a chance at surviving unless they somehow land within the compound walls. Something tells me the Institute won’t be that generous.

  Just then I catch sight of the craft. It’s so high I can just barely make out its sleek design. It's smaller than I expect, more of a simple hovercraft than one of the Institute's massive airships.

  “Do you think they found us?” Max asks, his voice smaller than I’ve heard in months.

  I squeeze his hand. “I don’t think so. See how little it is and how high it’s flying? If this was a raid, I’d think they’d be in a much bigger ship to carry soldiers, and they'd be flying lower.”

 

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