The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 1: Books 1 - 3 (Sick, Exit 9, & Pale Horse)

by Brett Battles

  He spent several annoying minutes getting enough of it back online so he could engage the backup system. The moment the emergency lights flared on, he began sprinting toward Cell 57.

  His radio crackled. “Major Littlefield?” It was Brewer again.

  Littlefield raised his radio without slowing his pace. “What?”

  “He’s not there.”

  The major didn’t have to ask who “he” was. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, sir. The emergency power gave us some limited camera access. Cell 57 is empty.”

  Littlefield nearly tossed the radio down the hall ahead of him. “Dammit!”

  “Sir, where are you?”

  “Approaching the cellblock-50 corridor.”

  “Stop, sir! Stop and get out now!”

  The major skidded to a halt. “What is it?”

  “The door to Cell 57 is open and the cycle is running again. The cellblock corridor will be contaminated.”

  The major stared ahead. Not just the cellblock corridor, he realized.

  Fifty feet in front of him, he could see the open door to cellblock 50. Soon the whole facility would be contaminated. There was no question his own life was already over.

  “Contact Dr. Karp. Inform him that the subject is missing, and that we are conducting a full facility search. Tell him upon completion we’ll be initiating Protocol Thirteen.”

  “What? There’s no reason for—”

  “Can you access the camera outside cellblock 50?”

  “Uh, I think so.”

  “You should look.”

  The pause that followed lasted about ten seconds.

  “Dear God,” Brewer said.

  “The main corridor’s your only way out, and it’s been compromised.” What the major didn’t have to add was that the door to the observation room was not biosafe-rated. “We’re dead one way or the other.”

  It was nearly half a minute before Brewer finally responded. “I’ll call Dr. Karp.”

  Suddenly, Littlefield heard someone running farther back in the facility. Thinking that it might be Ash, he took off in pursuit, but whoever it was got out at one of the emergency exits before Littlefield could reach them. As much as he wanted to continue tracking the person into the night, in his contaminated condition it was no longer a possibility.

  He spent forty minutes searching the building for Ash, but the only person he found was Sergeant Causey. He was lying unconscious in a supply closet near cellblock 30. The major decided not to wake him just to tell him he was about to die.

  Ellison, though, was nowhere to be found, making it a pretty damn good bet he’d been involved in freeing Captain Ash. No matter. They’d both be tracked down soon enough. Dr. Karp would make sure of it. Littlefield was just disappointed he wouldn’t be there to pull the trigger when it happened.

  He walked all the way down to Cell 57 and sat on Ash’s cot. He then had Brewer patch him through to Dr. Karp.

  “I can’t say that I’m pleased,” the doctor said when Littlefield finished his report.

  “I can’t say that I am, either.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then finish things.”

  “Yes, sir. I will, sir. Good luck.”

  Dr. Karp grunted a reply, then was gone.

  “Brewer?” Littlefield said.

  “I’m here.”

  “Initiate Protocol Thirteen.”

  Seven

  FIVE MINUTES BEYOND the rock overhang, Captain Ash and his escort came to a tall chain-link fence. There were several rows of razor wire mounted to brackets across the top, meant to discourage anyone from climbing over.

  His guide pulled a small, rectangular device out of his pocket and stared at it for a few seconds before nodding to his right.

  “That way,” he said. “Seventy-five feet.”

  As they walked along the fence, Ash caught sight of the building he’d been freed from. It was really no more than a distant, half-lit blob. That surprised him. He hadn’t realized they’d traveled so far.

  What was even more surprising, though, was that there were no helicopters flying around looking for them, no vehicles racing across the desert hot on their trail, no apparent interest in them at all. Was it possible the Army didn’t even realize he was gone?

  “Found it,” his guide said as he dropped to his knees beside the fence.

  The man undid a couple of temporary ties from the chain-link, fence then pulled open a slit that had been previously cut into it.

  He shoved the messenger bag through first, followed it, then pulled one of the edges back as far as it would go. “Your turn.”

  As soon as Ash passed through, the guy hemmed up the fence, then said, “Not long now.”

  “And then what?”

  Ash got no response.

  The desert on this side of the fence was no different from that on the other, save for the fact that it wasn’t under direct military control.

  They found another ravine, this one only deep enough to cover them from the waist down. They followed it for several minutes before they climbed out and veered off to their right. In the sky, there was definitely something brewing in the East that would challenge the night for control before too long.

  They walked for five more minutes, then the guide said, “Wait here.”

  A minute passed. Then two.

  Ash was just starting to wonder if the guy was going to come back when—

  Light flashed, and a tremendous roar raced across the desert as the ground shook for what seemed like several seconds, knocking Ash down.

  He pushed himself up and stared, dumbstruck, toward the middle of the valley. The building that he’d been held in was gone, replaced by flames so bright, his eyes hurt looking at them even at this distance. Above the inferno, a giant cloud of smoke rose into the air, lit from below by the flames.

  “You’ve got to go now!”

  Ash whipped around. He hadn’t heard the other man return.

  “Did…did you guys do that? Did you blow up the building?”

  The man glared at Ash for a moment. “We were there to rescue you, not blow up anything. Whatever happened, they did it themselves. Now come on.”

  “But why would the Army blow up their own building?”

  “You think the Army did this to you?” He pointed toward the distant blaze. “The Army didn’t do that, and they weren’t the people who were holding you. You’ve gotten in a mess here you didn’t even realize you’d been pulled into.”

  “What are you talking about? If they weren’t Army, then I need to report in, let them know what’s going on.”

  “You don’t get it. Anything you report will get right back to the people who did this to you. You can strike out on your own and find out if I’m right, or you can take the help I’m offering and find out the truth.” When Ash didn’t immediately respond, the man added, “Don’t forget, that guy who helped me get you out was still inside when we left. There’s a pretty good chance he just gave his life to save you. So what’s it going to be?”

  It was all too much for Ash to take in. Not the Army? If not, who were they? And why would reporting in get him in trouble? Almost none of it was making sense. About the only thing he knew for sure was that the man and his partner had gotten him out of the building before it exploded.

  Finally he nodded. He didn’t have to trust them forever, but for now it seemed like the best option he had.

  “Let’s go, then,” the man said. A few minutes later, they were standing at the edge of a blacktop road. The man pulled the messenger bag off his shoulder and handed it to Ash. “You’ll find another change of clothes inside. There’s also a driver’s license and a credit card under the name Craig Thompson. Don’t try using the card. It’s just for appearances and won’t work. But you’ll be Thompson only for the next leg. When you transfer again, you’ll be given a new ID. At that point, destroy these.”

  “Transfer again?” Ash asked.

>   “There’s also two thousand dollars in cash,” the guide said, ignoring his question.

  “Two thousand?”

  “It should be more than enough in case of an emergency along the way.”

  “Along the way to where?”

  The man looked at him for a moment, then opened the flap of the messenger bag and pulled out a seven-by-seven-inches square, half-inch-thick package that had been wrapped completely in brown packing tape. “This is for your contact at your end station. He’ll know what to do with it.”

  “Contact? End station? You’re not making any sense.”

  The man stuffed the package back in the bag then pointed down the road. “A hundred yards that way you’ll find an abandoned gas station.” He looked at his watch. “In ten minutes, a car is going to stop there. The driver will ask you if you know where the nearest town is. You say it would be easier if you showed them. They’ll agree and you’ll get in.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Where are they supposed to take me?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “So I’m supposed to just trust them?”

  “You trusted us.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Seems to me you don’t have much of a choice now, either.”

  “Please. You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on!”

  The man looked at his watch again. “You’re down to nine minutes. If you’re not there when your ride arrives, they won’t wait. Then you’ll be on your own.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Good luck.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Ash shook it, then watched the man disappear back into the night.

  Finally he turned and started jogging down the highway.

  Eight

  JAMES ELLISON WAS a dead man, and he knew it.

  After guiding Captain Ash and the other man—a man whose name he never knew—to the exit and making sure they got out, his plan had been to return to the supply closet where he’d left Sergeant Causey after he’d drugged the man’s coffee. He had a second, weaker dose that he was going to take himself so that they’d both be found unconscious together.

  He had been on his way there when he heard Major Littlefield’s voice in the distance. He pulled out his radio and turned it up just loud enough so he could listen in on the conversation.

  What he heard made his blood turn to ice. The door to cellblock 50 had been left open. He’d been sure he closed it, but apparently the lock hadn’t engaged. It was his biohazard suit—it made it hard to hear the click of the latch.

  Though Ash and the other man had still been in the facility when the emergency power came back on and the dosing cycle started again, they were so far away at that point, there was no chance the bug could have reached them before they got outside.

  He, on the other hand, was toast.

  He told himself the reason he needed to get out of there was because someone had to report in the fact that Major Littlefield was no longer in the picture.

  His cell phone was in his bag in the observation room, and therefore permanently unavailable, so he would have to find an out-of-the-way pay phone. After he made the call, he could stumble into the desert and die, hopefully from exposure before the bug took him down. That was the best plan he could come up with.

  But while the information about Major Littlefield was important, it would also be something the others would learn soon enough without him.

  The coming Protocol Thirteen firestorm—that was the real reason he turned and ran.

  Nine

  THE GAS STATION was right where the guide had told Ash it would be. It was an old, adobe-style building with a low concrete pad out front where the pumps used to sit. By the look of it, it had been left for dead a long time ago.

  Ash raced across the highway, thinking that whoever was going to be picking him up must already be there, perhaps parked out of sight. But when he got there, no one was around.

  Had his ride already come and gone? Had he missed his opportunity to get away from the base? Or, he wondered, had the driver been scared off by the explosion? It certainly wouldn’t be out of the question.

  Just then he heard a whine, low and from the South. Tires on asphalt. It had to be.

  He peered down the highway. Everything was dark. No headlights, no sign that anyone was coming, except the whine.

  He didn’t see the car until just before it turned off the road, its headlights off. He watched as it pulled in like it was going to fill up with gas.

  For a few seconds, he considered making a run for the desert and disappearing. He had no idea who these people were, and had no clue as to why they were helping him. What he did know, though, was getting a ride in a car was considerably better than wandering through the desert.

  He stepped out from the building and walked toward the sedan. As he neared, the driver’s-side window slid down.

  “Morning,” a female voice said from inside. She sounded nervous.

  Ash leaned down so he could see her. In the darkness, she wasn’t much more than a shadow, with shoulder-length hair he thought was probably blonde.

  “Could have sworn there was a town around here,” she said. “Know of some place I could get a little breakfast?”

  “I…I can show you.”

  His response was a lot less polished than her question, but it served the purpose of identification as her door locks clicked up.

  “Hop in,” she said.

  He moved around to the passenger side. But as he opened the door, the woman shook her head.

  “No. In the back.”

  He hesitated a moment, then shut the door and opened the one behind it.

  “Lift the seat,” she told him before he could climb in.

  “What?”

  She pointed at the seat cushion. “There's a latch in the back near the center. Pull and lift.”

  He did as the woman instructed. The only thing under the bench was the metal body of the car. He looked at her, confused.

  She reached under the car’s dash. A second later there was a dull thud, and the metal under the backseat popped upward several inches. Not needing to be told, he pulled it open as far as it would go, revealing what could best be described as a storage area. It was identical in length to the back seat, maybe a foot wider, and about two and a half deep.

  “Get in,” the woman said.

  “You've got to be kidding me. I'm not getting in there.”

  “You get in there or you don’t get the ride.” She glanced toward the fire that was still burning in the valley. “You’re lucky I stopped at all. Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  He started to speak, but she shook her head and held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She looked back at the secret compartment. “It's vented, so you’ll get plenty of fresh air, and the lining’s padded.” She grabbed a water bottle off the front passenger seat and held it out to him. “You’re not going to want to drink this all at once. You won’t be getting out for several hours, so taking a leak can get a little messy.”

  “I'll just sit in the back seat if it's all right with you.” He started to close the metal lid.

  “It's not all right with me!” she shot back. “I don't know who you are, or why you need to get away from here, but I do know if we get stopped and they find you, I'm going to be in as much trouble as you are. Now you can either get in the hole or start walking. It's up to you.”

  She stared at him defiantly, the bottle of water still in her outstretched hand.

  He looked at the compartment, then at the water, then at the woman. “I don’t know who you are, either.”

  “And you won’t,” she said.

  He stood there a moment longer, then took the water and awkwardly lowered himself into the hiding space. Once he was in position, the woman leaned back and started to lower the lid.

  “I didn’t start that fire,” he said.

  “I told you. I don
’t want to know.”

  She shut him in.

  FOR THE FIRST hour, he was sure they would be stopped at a roadblock and the car inspected. But as the road kept passing a few feet beneath him, he began to think they might have made it away undetected. Eventually, he dozed off.

  When he woke again, he could hear other vehicles surrounding them—semi-trucks mostly, cruising at high speeds. He figured they must be on an interstate. Which one, he had no idea. Having just recently been transferred to the Barker Flats Research Center, he didn’t know this part of the country that well and had no clue which highways were within a few hours’ drive away.

  Both he and Ellen had grown up in the Midwest—Ash in Ohio and his wife in Indiana. They’d met at college where he was going through ROTC training and working on an engineering degree, and she was studying to be an accountant.

  For him, at least, it was one of those instant attraction kind of things. Ellen had always said it was the same for her, too, but he was never sure if she was joking with him or not. Their bond grew infinitely deeper after her father passed away from a heart attack while they were sophomores. Her mother was already gone—cancer. Several years earlier, Ash’s parents had also passed away. No diseases in his family, just bad timing with a tire blowout at seventy miles per hour. His brother was with them, too. Jeff didn't die but, well, the condition he was left in often made Ash wonder if it would have been better if he had.

  The fact was, Ash and Ellen really only had each other after that. They were married their senior year, and Josie was born exactly ten months later.

  And now here he was alone again, his whole family gone.

  He had no idea how long they’d been on the road when he felt the car ease to the right and slow down. Outside, the sounds of the other vehicles grew distant as the sedan came to a near stop, then accelerated again through a sharp right turn.

  A couple minutes later, the car slowed once more and veered to the right. The now-familiar hum of tires on asphalt was replaced by the crunch of dirt under treads. Then the car stopped and the engine shut off.