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

by Brett Battles

  A pause. “They are.”

  Ash began breathing rapidly, his anger boiling just under his skin. He pushed himself up. “How many people?”

  “There were fifty-seven total in the other families.”

  “Fifty-seven?” With Ellen, Josie, and Brandon, that made an even…“Sixty total. My God.” He turned to the television. “It must be all over the news.”

  Matt hesitated for a split second before saying, “It hasn’t been all over the news. There’s been no report whatsoever.”

  “What?” Ash couldn’t believe it. He began pacing in the space in front of the door. Maybe the government didn’t want to cause a panic. The country took a pretty big hit after 9/11. Sure, everyone had rallied together, but there’d been so much confusion, too. “Do they know who did it? Have they found them?”

  Matt took a longer pause this time before answering. “Captain, I will always tell you the truth. That’s the promise we make here. Sometimes, though, there are things that need to be held back. Perhaps someone isn’t ready to hear it yet, or perhaps the information is just too sensitive. When these situations arise, we won’t lie about it and try to cover it up, but the information will not be shared, either.” He paused. “There are things you don’t know and don’t understand. As soon as we’re completely sure we can trust you, you will be told. Just not now.”

  “Trust me?”

  “Just like you’re unsure whether you can trust us.”

  As true as the statement was, Ash didn’t like hearing it. “What couldn’t you trust me with?”

  “Is that a trick question?” Matt said. “Okay. How about this? The truth about what happened at Barker Flats.”

  Ash stared at Hamilton. “Whatever happened killed my family! I have every right to know the truth!”

  “I would feel the same as you,” Hamilton said calmly.

  “Then tell me!”

  “When the time is right.”

  Ash stood motionless for several seconds then said, “Mr. Hamilton, I appreciate your hospitality, and whatever you did to help me get away from Barker Flats. There’s money still in my bag. Yours, I assume. I’ll leave it in the room. I don’t have any of my own to cover whatever expenses you might have incurred. I apologize for that.” He took a step toward the door. “If someone could show me the way to a main road, I’d be grateful.”

  Hamilton considered him for a moment, then stood up. “It’s late. Spend the night and you can get an early start in the morning.”

  “You’ll lock my door and keep me from leaving.”

  Hamilton shook his head. “No. If you want to leave, we won’t stop you. But we also won’t be able to protect you.”

  “I can protect myself.”

  Hamilton nodded. “I’m sure you’ll do the best that you can. I only ask when they do track you down, you don’t mention the ranch or any of us here.”

  “They won’t track me down.”

  Matt remained silent for a moment, his expression blank. Finally, he said, “I’ll have Pax show you to your quarters. If you decide to stay the night, you’re welcome to join us for dinner at seven.”

  Ash answered with a single nod.

  “One more thing,” Hamilton said.

  He limped back over to his desk and pulled a package out of the credenza. It was the same package Ash had been given in the desert. One end was open now. Hamilton reached in, pulled something out, then walked back over to Ash.

  “I believe this is yours.”

  He held out his palm. In it was a watch.

  Ash tried not to shake as he lifted it up. It wasn’t an expensive brand, but it was priceless to him. He turned it over. Engraved on the back, just as he knew it would be, was:

  Happy Birthday,

  All My Love,

  Ellen

  He had assumed the watch was destroyed in the explosion. He had thought he’d never hold it again. “This was in the package?”

  Hamilton nodded.

  “What else is in there?”

  “That was the only personal item of yours.”

  “Are you lying to me?”

  “I told you, we have no room for lies here.”

  Ash stared at the watch a moment longer, then put it on.

  For the first time since the night that life as he knew it ended, he cried.

  Fourteen

  BY THE TIME Len and Chuck found their friends Jimmy and Walt at the campground, it was well after dark but they had the excuse of a lifetime.

  They joined the other two at the campfire and recounted the afternoon’s events. Chuck played it up to its morbid best, while Len exaggerated his friend’s freak-out at finding the body.

  “He threw up everywhere! If I hadn’t jumped out of the way, I’d have been covered in it,” he said. “Then he refused to go back inside, like he thought the guy was going to jump up and come running after him.”

  “Yeah,” Chuck said, smiling. Jokes at his expense never bothered him. “Like a zombie, man. Hey, you never know.”

  Someone threw an empty beer can at him as the rest laughed.

  By the time their fire died down to a few coals, they’d retold portions of the story half a dozen times.

  “I’m beat,” Len finally said, getting up. He swayed a little bit, and had to steady himself by putting a hand on Walt’s shoulder.

  “Whoa,” Jimmy said, laughing. “Drink a little too much?”

  Len scowled at him. “Ha ha.”

  He’d actually had only two, but it had been a long day—the driving, the dead body, the police—so it was a wonder he could even keep his eyes open.

  “If you guys are going to stay up, keep the noise down,” he said. “I want to get some sleep.”

  “No guarantees,” Walt told him as he popped open another beer.

  “You guys suck,” Len said.

  He headed over to the tent he and Chuck were sharing. As he unzipped the door, he coughed and then cleared his throat. Stupid dry desert air, he thought. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler and crawled inside.

  THERE WAS A knock at Dr. Karp’s door. Without looking up, he said, “Come in.”

  The door opened and Mr. Shell entered. He was a lean and muscular six-foot-two with sandy blond hair, and a nose that had been broken at least once.

  Karp had been expecting him, so he waved to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat.” Once Shell was situated, he said, “Pleasant trip?”

  Shell’s mouth moved up and down in a quick smile. “Pleasant enough.”

  “Any further update on this afternoon’s…action?”

  Karp had to be careful in his phrasing and tone. Shell was not his subordinate, nor was he Shell’s. They worked in completely different branches of the project, their jobs only overlapping when circumstances such as those that happened in the last eighteen hours occurred. Shell was part of the security arm, his specialty emergency situations.

  “How much have you been informed of already?” Shell asked.

  “That Ellison was neutralized by your team. And the scene was being staged.”

  “Then you know enough.” Shell leaned forward. “What I’d like to do is talk about Captain Daniel Ash.”

  “Have you found him?”

  “Not yet.” Shell paused, then set his briefcase on his lap and opened it up. From inside, he extracted a thin stack of photographs and set them on the desk.

  “This is an enhanced thermal satellite image,” he said, tapping the top photo. “It shows a section of the road north of Barker Flats. It was taken fifty-seven minutes after the loss of power at the facility.”

  Karp studied the image. There were only two things that showed heat, both very near to each other, and the rest of the image was basically black.

  Shell pointed at a thick line just a half shade lighter than the surrounding area. “This is the highway.” He moved his finger to the larger of the two bright spots. “And this is a car. As you can see, it’s not on the road. We’ve been able to de
termine that it is in the process of pulling up at an abandoned gas station. This other bright spot is a person waiting by the building.”

  He moved the picture to the bottom of the stack. The revealed image was similar to the first. The only change was that the car was now on the road.

  “You’ll notice the person who had been waiting at the gas station is no longer there.”

  “Ash?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know for sure?”

  Instead of answering, Shell laid all the photographs out on the desk. There were eight total, including the two he’d already shown the doctor.

  Shell touched the photo to the far left. “Here. That’s the Barker Flats facility, seven minutes after the power outage.”

  There were two small, bright dots in the desert not far from the building.

  Shell moved his attention to the next photo. The building was no longer in the picture, but the two dots were still there. “Fifteen minutes after. They’ve gone just over a mile.” The next photo was similar to the last. “Twenty-five minutes. Two and a half miles.” Next photo. “Thirty minutes. They paused here before moving on.” Next photo. “Forty minutes. They’re standing next to the road.” And the last photo. “They’ve separated here. One has stayed where they were, while the other is heading to the gas station.”

  Karp stared at all the photos. He touched the solitary dot standing by the road in the last shot. “Couldn’t that be Ash?”

  Shell shook his head. “As soon as Ash reaches the gas station, this person heads three miles south where he is picked up by a separate car forty minutes later. It’s clear whoever it was knew exactly where he was going. You had Captain Ash under your control for over a week prior to the breakout. Before that, records indicate that in the few weeks he and his family had been living at the base, they had yet to leave. Ash would have no knowledge of this area. The man picked up at the abandoned gas station had to be Ash.”

  The logic was sound, but Karp didn’t like the accusatory tone Shell was taking. “Were you able to follow the car the captain was in?”

  “Only as far as the Nevada border. It pulled into the parking garage of a casino there. Once it was out of sight, there was no way to know if it left again.”

  “I thought these satellites are supposed to be good enough to make out the license numbers on cars.”

  Shell said nothing for a moment. “In daylight, if the angle’s right. But it was still dark when the car entered the parking garage. Plus it was a Toyota Camry, the most popular car in the country. So no, Dr. Karp. We lost it.” There was a pause. “What I need to know is how troublesome this Ash is. Could he be a problem? Or do we just let him go?”

  “What does Bluebird think?”

  Shell stared at him. “Naturally, Bluebird is concerned, but they’ve left it up to me to determine what happens next. So I need to know from you whether you think he is a problem, or just someone we can ignore.”

  Karp thought for a moment, knowing he had to tread carefully. “I would prefer if he were eliminated, primarily because it would aid our research if we had his body. But is he a threat?” He shook his head. “Ash knows nothing that can hurt us.”

  “Unless your man Ellison told him something.”

  Though Dr. Karp knew it was true, Shell’s accusation annoyed him. “There’s absolutely no proof that Ellison had anything to do with Ash’s escape. He found out Littlefield was going to engage Protocol Thirteen and ran due to fear. He was found alone in the major’s car, for God’s sake, not some Toyota Camry. All that proves is that he was weak, not a traitor.”

  Shell paused a moment before responding. “Doctor, your position within the project is safe. Your skills are needed and you are in no danger. So don’t embarrass yourself by ignoring the obvious. The only way Ash could have been freed was if he’d had help on the inside. There is no other way. You know it, and I know it. So drop the bullshit. Is Ash dangerous to us or not?”

  Backed into a corner, there was really only one answer Karp could give. “Maybe.”

  WHEN LEN WOKE up the next morning, he was the only one in the tent. He staggered outside, his head pounding, and found the others sitting at the campfire.

  “About time,” Chuck said. He stared at his friend for a moment. “How much did you have to drink last night?”

  Len dropped into the only empty chair. “What time is it?”

  “Nine-thirty,” Walt said.

  “We’ve been up for two hours,” Chuck told him.

  Len coughed a couple of times.

  “Dude, are you all right?” Walt asked.

  “I think I might be getting something.”

  “Great,” Jimmy said. “I swear to God if I get it, too, I’m going to kill you.”

  “Is there any coffee left?” Len asked.

  Chuck poured him a cup and handed it over. “We were just waiting for you so we could hike the dunes.”

  “I…I don’t think I’m up for it.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  “You guys go. I’m just going to lie down.”

  Chuck eyed him for a moment. “Maybe we should just head home.”

  Shaking his head, Len said, “I don’t want to ruin your fun.” He tried to smile. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep it off.”

  The others protested a bit more, but in the end they headed off for the dunes, and Len crawled back into the tent to rest.

  When they got back four hours later, all three of them were more exhausted than they should have been, and two were already sniffling.

  Chuck didn’t even check Len as he climbed into the tent to take a nap. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Len had been dead for nearly an hour. Chuck would follow seven hours later, and Walt thirty minutes after that.

  Jimmy was the only one still alive, if barely, when the Ranger service found them.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he kept whispering. “I’m going to kill him.”

  But, really, it was the other way around.

  Fifteen

  ASH’S NEW QUARTERS weren’t quite as nice as the room he’d woken up in the day before, but they were more than adequate. All the clothes that had been in the other dresser had been moved to his new room, as had the messenger bag that surprisingly still had the money inside.

  He had slept with the watch on, not a habit he used to have, but one he was determined to start. It had still been on California time when Hamilton gave it to him, but Pax had told him when he showed Ash to the room that it was an hour later here. Where “here” was, Ash still didn’t know.

  It was because of the watch that he skipped dinner. He was in too much of an emotional state, and didn’t want to end up saying something he’d regret later. Pax had brought him a tray of food around eight p.m. and Ash surprised himself by devouring it all.

  When morning came, the decision to leave didn’t seem as clear as it had twelve hours before. Yes, the conversation with Hamilton had annoyed him, but there was too much he didn’t know or understand, and it was clear that many of the answers could probably be found right there on the ranch.

  Still unsure of what he was going to do, he packed a few extra shirts, some underwear, and socks into the messenger bag. He then left the bag in the room and went in search of breakfast.

  The building he was in was a kind of dormitory just down a wide stone pathway from the main building. It was two stories and held maybe twenty rooms, but if anyone else had been staying there, Ash hadn’t heard them. The outside of the building was stone halfway up the first floor, with wooden timbers the rest of the way to the top. It was definitely built to last, but while it had the appearance of having been built decades before, Ash got the sense it was actually recently constructed.

  Heading down the path, he could hear birds chirping in the distance, and felt a breeze blowing softly through the tops of the trees. The tranquility of it all was almost overwhelming. It was so at odds with the turmoil going on inside him.

  As the tr
ail turned and went up a gentle rise, the main building came into view. It was an impressive structure—old and wooden and huge, with wide, sloped roofs and half a dozen chimneys. It looked like a ski lodge that should have been at the bottom of a hill rather than in a quiet clearing.

  There was a workout area off to the left with pull-up bars, sit-up stations, and resistance-training machines. A woman was at one of the machines, using it to work her shoulders. She glanced over at Ash, then quickly looked away as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have.

  As Ash neared the main building, he spotted Pax on his hands and knees examining a set of stairs that led up to the wide porch surrounding the structure. When Pax saw him, he got to his feet and brushed off his hands.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Good morning,” Ash replied. “I was wondering if there was someplace I could get some breakfast.”

  “Sure, sure.” Pax turned to the building. “That third door there, that gets you into a short hallway that’ll take you into the kitchen. You’ll find Bobbi in there. She can whip you up something.”

  “Thanks.” Ash glanced at the stairs. “Is it safe?”

  “What? Oh, sure. Just be careful on that second step. The backboard’s starting to give a little. I’ll have one of the boys replace it this afternoon.”

  Again, Ash hesitated before moving on. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “What kind of business is this ranch in? Can’t believe you make a lot of money off of people like me.”

  Pax laughed. “No, that would drive us broke, I think. We have cattle, beef mostly, and a small herd of buffalo.”

  “Buffalo?”

  “You’d be surprised at the size of the buffalo meat market. But Rachel wants us to keep them for historical sake, let them live out their lives here.”

  “So you only make money off the cattle then.”

  “When we need to.”

  It wasn’t really an answer, but Ash decided not to push and headed into the house.

  Bobbi was a tall woman with short red hair who turned out to be an excellent cook. In no time, Ash was sitting at one of the tables in the restaurant-sized kitchen, working his way through a large plate of eggs and sausage.