Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy) (16 page)

Within two months, he
had grown the Truther movement to thirty people, and begun his radio broadcasts. Between his own radio searches and the reports of the followers, he knew he’d find the remaining Diaspora colony eventually. Eden’s existence had come as a complete surprise, an unfortunate thorn in his side.

Still, he smiled, now he was only
months away from finishing his 1-2-3 strike. Once all the colonies were eliminated, he’d leave Camp. It wouldn’t matter to him at that point whether he lived or died…as long as he knew that those who betrayed him were in the same boat.

“Father?”
Nona said. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no,” he smiled
. “Sorry, just lost in thought.”

“There is much to think about,” she said quietly, “with the new initiates.”

Carter
inhaled to cover his frustration. Nona was one of the Truthers who actually believed the Eden colonists might consider converting. It was why she insisted on calling them initiates. He also knew that she was one of the many Truthers who disapproved of his current plan. If she hadn’t intervened, he would only have given them thirty days before he kicked them out, but she’d insisted that they couldn’t put children out in the dead of winter, no matter what the sins of their parents.

“So what, Nona?
” he responded. “Tell me. What would you have me do? I’m sheltering them, I’m feeding them, I’m keeping them safe from marauders, and most importantly, I’m exposing them to the Word.”

“I know, Father
. But…”

“But?”

“But it just seems like it will be hard for them to even consider converting when they’re being treated like prisoners. Maybe we could provide more shelter, or a little more food.” She folded her fingers primly, a gesture of nerves.

“You know that
I wish that we could show more kindness, but we can’t. First of all, we don’t have enough food to spare. We’ve already asked too much of the followers in the double Tithe. Second of all, even though I know that many of our kindest-hearted Truthers feel the same way you do...”

She nodded,
her lips curling up in encouragement.

“…
there are also many who don’t.”

Her smile froze and reversed
. “I know. Things are definitely harder on us this winter, having to support them. I just don’t know why it has to be this way. It seems…” She stopped and huffed. “It’s just that we all fought so hard to survive, and now we’re fighting each other.”

Carter reached across the table and took her hand in his
. “Nona, if all the world were as kind as you, we wouldn’t have to fight each other.”

Sorrow pooled from her forced smile, soaking its way to her edges
. “Maybe someday, Father.”

Yes
, he thought,
the fight will end. Someday.

----------- Darryl-------------

Most people
wouldn’t think it possible to pace in a ten by ten cabin, but then, Darryl had never put much stock in what other people thought was possible.
Which was what got the world into this mess in the first place
, he thought angrily
.
By now, he’d practically worn his way through the boards of the cabin. Even though it drove his cabin-mates nuts, they tolerated it.

At least
they had the luxury of going outside and wandering the prison yard in the daytime. He could only sneak in and out in the deep, dark night, when he’d spirit his way to the riverfront and beg the universe for signs of their rescuers. He knew that it would still be weeks before they arrived, and he had no idea how many people Sean would be able to convince to help them, but still, he had to get out. He had to do something with his thoughts and his energy.

He spun on his heel and turned back, took four strides and spun again.
Waiting.
Stride, stride, stride, stride, spin.
Waiting.
Stride, stride, stride, stride, spin.

“For P
ete’s sakes, Darryl, please!” Lucy sighed. “I need a break. I’ll head back outside in a bit to beat the blankets and you can go back to being a whirling dervish, ok?”

Darryl settled onto a nearby bunk, stripped of its bedclothes by the industrious Mrs. Skillman
. His feet tapped and jiggled and he kept reaching to bite his nails and then remembering that he wore gloves.
Waiting
. Every day was more painful. Every hour. Every minute. He wondered absently if prison was worse when you were waiting for something…or when you weren’t. He jumped as Lucy plopped beside him with a huff.

“Out with it, Darryl.”

He snorted, a half-laugh. Abrupt was Lucy’s version of “loving.” But then, no one could accuse the woman of being passive-aggressive. A song rose like a bird on the breeze from the prison yard. Rachel Skillman. She was singing to the children again. The “Angels” had determined mid-trip that the noise of a young girl’s song was worth the risk, given that they were stuck with screaming, terrified toddlers as their alternative. She’d been singing to calm them ever since.

Her voice twisted and spiraled upward, a silken prayer
. Tears came to his eyes. “What’s there to say, Lucy? You know what I want.”

He tried to make eye contact
. His logical mind registered that Lucy was staring at him with concern, but lately he seemed to spend most of his time drifting in the back of his mind. At first the dreams had only come at night, but now they came by day, sliding before his eyes like a film, blotting out the daylight.

Rachel’s song grew deeper, sinking and rolling in slow waves
. It drew him into the darkness. He was slipping through the forest at dusk, nipping up the rock fall that frowned down on the prison like a totem. He passed through the settlement, a spirit fluttering by as brown-clad Truthers bedded down on cue like monks. Shadow Angels appeared, but he took each one down with single slash to the throat. His fingers tightened on the blade strapped to his belt.

“Darryl?”
Lucy’s brow was furrowed. “Are you ok? I’m starting to worry about you.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, we’re all going a little stir crazy.”

He shook his head.
“’M ok.” His mind was fixed on the slashing, the Angels falling. They were lined up, row after row of them. He would slash, slash, slash, until he got through the rows, until he forced his way through…to her. Something bit his fingertip and he jumped, startled. He looked down and blinked. His finger was bleeding. He’d cut himself on his knife.

Lucy took his hand gently
. “You’re not ok, Darryl,” she murmured, dabbing at the blood with the corner of a blanket. “None of us is ok.”

He slumped against the bunk frame, deflated
. Lucy never said things like that. She was always saying, “Everything is going to be fine. The Seeders will rescue us.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath
. “What do you think he’s doing to her?”

“Nothing, Darryl,” Lucy said
firmly, snapping back to her usual self. “Here, press on that.” She handed him back his finger, now wrapped in a tatter of sheet she’d ripped off for him. “What’s he going to do to Georgie with Gary there, hmmmm? And the Seekers? She’s with our strongest people. They can protect her better than any of us. He just wants them isolated to contain the truth.”

He nodded and stood, walking to the window and peeling back the corner of plastic so he could peer out
. He wished he could believe her. The children flocked around Rachel as she walked the yard. She’d switched to an upbeat tune and the children clapped along. They turned the corner of the yard in formation, the band to her Majorette.

But how many strides before they came to the next barbed wire fence
, he thought, his rage bubbling up once again. His finger throbbed and his eyes wandered, against his will, up the rockfall, into the deep pines and then…somewhere. She was somewhere up there in the darkness of the forest.
So close.
“I can’t stand it, Lucy. I can’t stand not knowing! I sneak out all the time. Why can’t I just slip up there and make sure she’s ok, like we’re ok?”

“No, Darryl!
You can’t even think it!” Lucy swept to his side and slid the plastic from his fingers. “What happens if you get caught? What happens to our plans? And to everyone else? You can’t risk it. Not after everything we’ve done to protect these children.”

He
frowned, unconvinced.

“Darryl.” Lucy’s voice was firm
. “
She
wouldn’t want that.”

His shoulders dropped
. Lucy was right. Georgie would be furious if she were the reason that their rescue plans were foiled. “Fine!” he hissed, turning away and beginning his clump back and forth across the boards. “Then let me pace in peace.”

Lucy dropped her head and nodded
. She gathered the rest of the blankets and slipped past him and out the door without another word.

Darryl ignored her and went back to his rut.
Stride, stride, stride, stride, spin
Waiting.
Stride, stride, stride, stride, spin.
Waiting.
Stride, stride, stride, stride, spin.

----
------------ Asher ------------------

Even though they were dying to know the plans to get the colonists back,
Fi and Asher had to spend time greeting the Army of Eden first. The children and older folks had only come to meet “the Seeders” and offer support anyhow. They were too weak to actually fight and would be heading home.

Not that the ones staying were much better
. Asher eyed the crowds with skepticism. It was a rag-tag group at best and there weren’t enough weapons. Most carried clubs or knives of some kind, but they were a pretty pitiful militia.
Even the Minutemen all had guns
, he thought grimly.

To keep his mind off his worries, he watched Fi,
as always, with a sense of amazement. Despite the fact that the woman hated attention like the plague, she moved among the Army members with ease and humor. She asked about families and marveled at babies and bumped fists with teenagers. She was so delightful that he could almost forget their purpose in coming.

At the moment she was enraptured by the stories of Zykeem, an African-American boy about their age who’d worked as one of the mail carriers
this past summer. “So you really go out there all by yourself, then?” she was saying.

Zykeem’s
response was interrupted by shrieks of laughter and…
barking
. Asher spun and saw a giant black dog streaking right for them. Fi screamed and draw her .22

“No!” Zykeem shouted.

Julius jumped in front of her. “Stop, Fi!”

She lowered her weapon just as the dog slowed and trotted up to her, a handful of happy toddlers in his wake.

“Is…is he…a pet?” Fi’s voice was shaking.

Asher
understood. His own heart was pounding.
There were no such things as pets anymore
. Now there were just snapping, slavering, starving wild beasts. Fi eyed the dog’s wagging tail and conceded, holstering her weapon.

“Yes,” Julius said
, exhaling. “He’s kind of a pet. His name’s Titan. Zykeem can explain really, but he’s not dangerous.”

“I’m sorry,” Fi said, her eyes still locked on the dog
. She crouched and Titan leapt up and ran to her. Asher held his breath, suppressing the urge to jump between them like Julius. But when Titan reached Fi, he sat, still wagging, and licked her fingers. Asher exhaled. Fi giggled and the dog wagged harder, pushing forward to lick her face as she laughed and tried to hold him at bay.

“All right, Titan,” Zykeem
said warmly, grabbing the dog by the scruff and pulling him back. “That’s enough.”

Fi got up and composed herself, dusting off her pants
. “Sorry, Zykeem, for almost killing your dog,” she said. “It’s just…”

“I know,” he smiled
. “Titan and I get that a lot. No one has seen a friendly dog in years. Don’t worry about it.” He crouched to pet the wriggling black mass. “We don’t mind, do we, boy?” Titan licked his face. It was clearly his universal response.

“
So, how did you end up with Titan, Zykeem?” Asher said. “I’m Asher, by the way.”

Zykeem shook
Asher’s hand and nodded. “I don’t really know. I was scraping by alone, floating from place to place when he just wandered out of the forest. He was a pup then, and he was starving, but then, so was I. He never tried to hurt me, ever. We just stuck together, and not long after we wandered into the WMNE Net, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

Asher reached out to pet Titan and was nearly knocked over when the dog thrust himself between his legs.

“He wants you to scratch his butt,” Zykeem said, blushing. “Just above his tail. It’s his favorite spot.”