The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 2

by Brett Battles

  As the plane pulled up next to the dock, Robert counted six people inside—four men and two women. He grabbed a rope and tied the front of the pontoon to the dock while Renee did the same at the back.

  The plane’s door opened, and the first visitors the resort had received since the outbreak climbed out.

  Leading them was a smiling woman with brown hair and tan skin.

  Robert offered her his hand and helped her down. “Welcome to Isabella Island.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “We’re very glad to be here.” She had a hint of a Hispanic accent but her English was perfect. “I’m Dr. Vega, but please call me Ivonne.”

  “Robert,” he said. “Robert Adams.”

  The other woman was next, introducing herself as Helena Chavez, a nurse, and then one of the men, a doctor named Peter de Coster.

  “The others will join us in a little bit,” Ivonne said. “They need to unpack the supplies.”

  “We can get some people to help them out, if you’d like,” Robert offered.

  “That would be great.”

  He asked for volunteers and saw almost every hand shoot up. He picked out three, who quickly made their way to the plane.

  “We will need someplace to set up,” de Coster said.

  “Of course,” Robert said. “The bar will probably be best. Plenty of room there, and that’s where people tend to hang out anyway.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Ivonne said.

  “Follow me.”

  As they walked along the path back to the resort, Renee said, “I can’t tell you how glad we are that we didn’t have to wait long for you to come back.”

  “We’re glad we could make it,” Ivonne replied.

  “Can you tell us what’s going on out there?” Robert asked. “How bad is it?”

  Ivonne’s smile faltered. “About as bad as you can imagine. Billions have died already.”

  He stopped walking. “Did you say billions? With a b?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Robert couldn’t get his head around the number. Did that mean whole countries were gone? Continents? Was that possible?

  “That can’t be right,” he said.

  “I wish it wasn’t, but there’s no part of the planet that hasn’t been touched.” She paused. “Except, perhaps, your island.”

  “No,” he said, still stunned. “We’ve been touched.”

  Dr. de Coster’s eyes widened. “The disease is here?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  Robert told them what had happened to Dominic.

  “No one else has come down with the flu?”

  “Not a one,” he said.

  Ivonne smiled. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

  “Dominic didn’t.”

  “Of course. I’m very sorry about your friend.”

  They fell into silence for several seconds.

  De Coster finally spoke. “You were going to show us where we could set up?

  “Right,” Robert said. “This way.”

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF BELINDA RAMSEY

  7:23 AM CST

  I HAD TO go into the farmhouse this morning. I know I said I didn’t want to, but the one thing I hadn’t taken with me when I left the dorm was matches, and I really wanted to light a fire to warm up. There’s a side door that leads straight into the kitchen. I looked through the windows first. If I’d seen even a hint of a body, I would have just dealt with the cold. But the room looked empty, so—with apologies to the homeowners—I broke a window so I could unlock the door.

  I have to say that as I stepped inside, I was tempted to keep going until I found a fireplace, or, even better, a warm bed. That was before the smell hit me, though. It was so strong and putrid, I stumbled back outside and thought for sure I was going to throw up. I don’t know how I kept it down.

  Again, I thought about abandoning the search for matches and going back to the barn. But the thing is, this wasn’t going to be the last time I smelled death—far from it, I’m guessing. And if I let it keep me from what I need, then I might as well give up now. I’m not saying I’m ready to extend this newfound bravery to actually seeing bodies yet, but I’ll deal with the smell.

  I buried my nose under as many layers of my scarf as I could wrap around, and then went back inside. I could still smell the bodies rotting elsewhere in the house, but it wasn’t as potent as before. Searching through the kitchen, I found a large container of matches, an unopened box of Ritz Crackers, and a sharp knife that could come in handy if I ran into any unfriendly animals. Honestly, the knife is really just something that makes me feel safer. Not sure, really, how I would handle an attacking animal. It did get me thinking about guns again, though, and whether there were any in the house. I’ve never shot a firearm before, but I know a gun would be real protection. Of course, that would have meant moving beyond the kitchen, still something I was not mentally prepared to do.

  As much as I would have liked to build a fire inside the barn, I was afraid some of the sparks might burn the place down. “Girl Survives Plague Only to Die in Fire.” Hell of a headline, even if there would be nobody to read it. Or, I guess, write the headline in the first place.

  I cleared an area out front that was covered by the barn’s eaves and mostly snow free, if not exactly dry. I then gathered some loose pieces of wood and dried hay from inside, and arranged them in the way my dad used to when we went camping. The first match broke in my hand, but the second got things going, and soon I was warming my hands by the small blaze.

  I wanted to get an early start this morning, so I knew I couldn’t sit there for long. I still hadn’t made a journal entry, though, and that was something I promised to do every day, so I went back in the barn to retrieve this book.

  I barely remember last night. I was really tired, so I didn’t get a chance to look around. But now I noticed a workshop down at the far end. I figured there might be something there that was good to have, so I headed over to check. Didn’t make it all the way, though. As I was passing one of the animal pens the owners had turned into storage areas, I noticed several large objects covered with tarps.

  I grabbed one of the covers and threw it off, and I’m not going to lie—I started to laugh. A snowmobile. In fact, there were four of them. Guess who’s not going to have to walk anymore?

  I was concerned at first that I might need to make another trip into the house to find the keys, but I found a ring with keys for all four in one of the drawers under the workbench. The good news is, all four engines started on the first try. There’s no real bad news, but my problem is, I have no idea which one would be the best to take. I’ve decided to go with the one that looks newest. I’m hoping that means its engine is in the best shape.

  I found several gas cans stored in the same area, and used what was left in one of them to fill the tank. I’ve strapped two of the cans that are near full to the back end with ropes and bungee cords. If I don’t run into any trouble, I’ll definitely be able to make it across the border into Illinois before nightfall. If I push it, I might even make it all the way to Chicago.

  Here’s hoping for no trouble.

  SALINAS, CALIFORNIA

  6:50 AM PST

  BEN WOKE WITH a start. He’d been dreaming. Of what, he couldn’t remember, but his heart was pounding and his breaths were short and fast. As the rush receded, his body began to relax and his head sank back into the pillow. He lay there for a minute, trying to remember what it was that had caused such a panic, but whatever had occupied his unconscious mind was gone for good.

  He glanced over at the bed where Iris had been sleeping, but it was empty. He sat up and looked around. He didn’t see her anywhere in the showroom.

  Restroom, he guessed.

  Ben pulled on his shoes and headed to the back of the store, needing to use the facilities himself. After making a stop in the men’s room, he knocked on the door to the women’s.

  “Iris? You in there?
”

  No answer.

  He pushed the door open a few inches.

  “Iris?” When she didn’t respond again, he said, “I’m coming in.”

  A quick check of the stalls confirmed what he’d suspected. She wasn’t there.

  Great.

  She’d probably run off again. The question was, should he once more try to find her?

  “No,” he told himself a moment later. She knew what was going on now. Maybe she just wanted to be alone. If that was the case, so be it.

  He walked back into the main showroom, thinking the sooner he hit the road, the sooner he’d reach Ridgecrest, where, God willing, he’d find Martina. After he’d repacked the few things he’d taken out of his bag, he unzipped the pouch where he kept his keys. But his keys weren’t there.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he ran toward the front of the store, but long before he got there, he could see through the big plate-glass windows that his Jeep was not where he’d left it.

  “Dammit!”

  He burst out the main door and ran out into the parking area. No Jeep anywhere.

  “No! No! No!”

  He jogged over to the street and looked both ways. Nothing moved in either direction, nor could he hear the sound of an engine, even in the distance.

  He yelled in frustration. It was his Jeep with his things in the back.

  Oh, God, he thought. The photo of his family, his mother’s favorite, it was still under the driver’s seat.

  And the earrings. The ones he’d bought for Martina. They were to be the first ever Christmas gift he’d give her.

  All of them, gone.

  He stared down the road, numb.

  Twenty-Five

  NB219

  LAS CRUCES, NEW MEXICO

  10:31 AM MST

  PEREZ MADE HIS way through NB219 to the barracks section used by the security forces. As he stepped into the common area, the men who saw him first immediately jumped to attention, with the rest soon doing the same.

  “I’m looking for Mr. Sims,” he said. “Anyone know where I can find him?”

  “In his room, sir,” one of the men said. “Keep going straight. B-09.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door to Room B-09 was open a few inches. Perez looked inside and saw Sims unpacking his bag.

  “Mr. Sims,” Perez said as he rapped a knuckle on the door.

  Sims whirled around. “Principal Director,” he said, surprised. “Did I get the meeting time wrong?”

  After spending the night in Denver, Sims and his team had arrived back at NB219 less than fifteen minutes earlier. He was due in Perez’s office for a debriefing at the top of the hour.

  “No. I had something that finished up early. Thought I’d save you the trip.”

  In truth, Perez had canceled a previously scheduled video conference so he could make this personal appearance. In his mind, Sims was the second most important person in the Project. He had become the hammer that reinforced the principal director’s rule. So Perez knew it was necessary to make sure their working relationship was solid. Small things, such as dropping in like this, went a long way toward solidifying loyalty.

  “Thank you, sir, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Not a problem,” Perez said. “I take it you didn’t find anything after your last report.”

  “No, sir. Those first tracks we saw were it. There was a big storm up there. I’m pretty sure they’re riding it out somewhere. Once the weather clears up, we can go back out and look for them again.”

  Perez had received a report on the storm. It was the same one, though diminished, that was expected to hit northern New Mexico in the next hour or two, and could possibly make it all the way down to Las Cruces at some point during the night.

  “If you do go back, what do you think your chances are of finding them?”

  “Fair, I guess.”

  “Give me a percentage.”

  “Well, if the weather clears up in that area like it’s supposed to tonight, and we leave before first light tomorrow, I’d say we have maybe a forty-percent chance. If we have to wait twelve hours or a full day more, it would go down to single digits and probably not be worth it.”

  Perez wasn’t sure a forty-percent chance would be worth it. “Touch base with me this evening. We’ll make a decision then.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Anything else to report?”

  “No, sir. That’s it.”

  “Very good.” As they shook hands, the principal director said, “Tell your men I’m very pleased with the work they are doing.”

  “I will. They’ll appreciate that, sir.”

  Twenty-Six

  WARD MOUNTAIN NORTH, NEVADA

  11:13 AM PST

  “TRY AGAIN,” RACHEL said.

  “Okay,” Crystal said, “but the result’s going to be the same. Either their radio is off, or Matt’s not answering.”

  “He’s got to answer.”

  “I realize that, but I can’t make him pick up.”

  Rachel’s jaw tensed. She needed to reach her brother, and try to talk him out of this insanity one last time. “Keep at it, Crystal,” she said. “You can make it every ten minutes, but don’t stop. They’ve got to check in at some point. When you do reach them, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, let me know. I must talk to Matt.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Crystal said.

  ISABELLA ISLAND, COSTA RICA

  12:22 PM CST

  ROBERT MADE SURE he was the very last person in line to receive an inoculation from the UN doctors. Renee had tried to take the position for herself, but settled on second to last at his insistence. Together they watched as the others went behind the screens that had been set up, and come back out a few minutes later, a few rubbing their arms and all of them smiling.

  After Estella received her shot, she paused when she reached Robert. “It doesn’t hurt too much,” she said.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” he said.

  She touched his hand. “Lunch after you’re done?”

  “Sure.”

  She walked off, and he could feel Renee staring at him.

  When he looked at her, she said, “Oh, really now.”

  “Please don’t start.” Robert wasn’t in the mood to participate in any teasing. He was happy they were all being vaccinated, but he was still coming to grips with how many people Ivonne had said were dead.

  Renee seemed to sense his frame of mind and didn’t say anything more.

  Slowly, they continued moving forward until they were the last two in line.

  After a few minutes, Helena, the UN nurse, stepped around the end of the screen and motioned to Renee. “Señorita, please come back.”

  The two women disappeared behind the screen, leaving Robert the only one left.

  He glanced out at the sea. It was another postcard day in paradise—blue sky, light breeze, and sunshine. It was the kind of day guests coming to the resort always hoped for as they flocked to the water, and took to the Jet Skis and snorkeling boats and surfboards. But that was Before. In the After, the water was empty and the beach deserted.

  “Robert?”

  He turned and found Ivonne smiling at him.

  “Your turn.”

  Renee was still there, sitting in a chair next to Dr. de Coster.

  “Please sit here,” Ivonne said, pointing at the empty chair next to where she was set up.

  After Robert followed her directions, she placed a strip of plastic against his head. When she pulled it off, she looked at it, and then noted something on the pad of paper. “Temperature’s normal,” she said. “Your arm, please.”

  She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his bicep, placed a stethoscope against his arm, and pumped up the device. Again, she wrote down the results.

  “Feel any unusual aches or pains?” she asked, her fingers probing under his jaw and down his throat.

  “No, I’m fi
ne. I told you, we’re all fine,” he said.

  A disarming smile. “I’m sure you are. It’s procedure only.”

  “Sure. I guess that makes sense.”

  She opened a plastic packet and removed a swab attached to a long, wooden dowel. “If you would open your mouth, I want to take a sample from inside your cheek.”

  The testing went on for another few minutes, ending with two vials of blood being drawn before she pulled out a prepared syringe with orange-tinted liquid inside.

  “This won’t hurt much, but you may feel a little uneasy in the next few hours. It doesn’t happen to everyone, but if it does, don’t worry. It will pass quickly.”

  She jabbed the needle into his arm and pushed down the plunger. At first, it felt like he had a knot under his skin, but even before Ivonne put a small, round bandage over the injection point, the sensation had gone away.

  “That’s it. You’re all done,” she said with a smile, and looked over at Helena. “Next one, please.”

  “He was the last,” Helena said.

  Ivonne leaned back in her chair and began rolling her head over her shoulders. “Finally.” She noticed Robert looking at her. “Yours is the largest group we’ve had to deal with at one time.”

  “We’re the largest?” he said, surprised yet again.

  “By far,” Dr. de Coster said. He’d finished with Renee a few minutes before, and she had left to join the others. “The average is three or four people. Our biggest group previous to yours was seventeen.”

  “It’s a miracle that all of you are still here,” Ivonne said.

  To Robert, it wasn’t so much a miracle as him and Dominic making hard choices and sticking by them.

  He touched the bandage on his arm. “How long until we’re safe?”

  Something changed in her expression. She glanced past Robert at de Coster. When she looked back, she said, “You’re the one in charge here, correct?”