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

by Brett Battles

  One thing was for sure: No one who used to know him would recognize him now.

  “Pax will fly out with you, but this is as far as I go,” Matt said, holding out his hand. “You’re a good man, Ash. Get them back.”

  As Ash shook with him, he said, “Thanks for all the help you’ve given me.”

  “I’ve posted a message for our person on the inside, telling him you and Chloe are coming. He might get it, he might not. Even if he does, he might not be able to do anything to help, but…well, I’m sure he’ll try.” He paused. “Pax will give you a number to memorize. Any time you get in trouble, you call that, now or in the future, and we’ll do what we can to help.” Matt smiled, then glanced toward the back of the plane. “Chloe, good to see you again. Stay safe.”

  “No such thing,” she said.

  She was calmer than any of the other times Ash had seen her, but he could still sense a cloud of nervous tension hovering around her.

  “The window shades will be automatically lowered before takeoff,” Matt told him. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, but we have certain procedures we need to stand by.”

  Ash shrugged. He didn’t really care where Matt and Rachel’s ranch was. He was focused on his destination. On his children.

  Matt hung in the doorway as if he had something more he wanted to say, but he finally just gave Ash a nod and got out.

  When Pax climbed in a few minutes later, he was carrying two cases—one a normal-sized briefcase, and the other a metal-sided container that could have easily fit a small microwave oven inside. He stored the metal container in a cabinet up front, then put the briefcase on the seat next to Ash. After securing the outer door, he gave the entrance to the cockpit a double tap and returned to his seat.

  “Hold this,” he said, handing the briefcase to Ash.

  As he buckled himself in, a low hum filled the cabin, and hard plastic shades lowered over the windows. To compensate for the loss of sunlight, the interior lights brightened.

  Pax leaned over to take the case back, but then stopped. “Might as well do this now.”

  Outside, the dull roar of the engines grew in intensity.

  “Open it up,” Pax said.

  The plane started rolling down the runway. It was slow at first, but quickly picked up speed. There was no taxiing here, just get on and go.

  Ash popped the latches on the briefcase and flipped it open. Inside was a padded envelope and two file folders.

  As Ash removed the envelope, the vibration caused by the runway suddenly ceased, and like that, they were in the air. He leaned back for a moment as their angle of ascent increased.

  A year earlier, he had taken his family to a small amusement park in Virginia. The park had one of those rides where you were basically in a box that went up and down and side to side, but didn’t really go anywhere. The sense of travel was conveyed by the combination of the movement and a video that played on a front screen. While they’d been on the ride, something had gone wrong with the projection system, and for several seconds they only had the walls to look at while the box kept jumping around.

  Taking off with the windows closed reminded him of that.

  As soon as they were settled into a comfortable climb, Ash opened the envelope and emptied the contents into the briefcase. The thing that stood out first was a small stack of cash. He quickly thumbed through it. Three grand. With the money he already had, that made five thousand total. Not exactly a windfall these days, but it definitely could come in handy.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You run out, you call us. We can get you more.”

  Not that Ash was looking for an answer, but he wondered for the umpteenth time who these people really were.

  “I’ll…I’ll pay you back.”

  “No need.”

  Ash didn’t argue, but he wasn’t conceding the point, either.

  He looked back into the briefcase. The other two items from the envelope were a piece of paper and a wallet. He picked up the wallet first. Inside were three credit cards, a membership card for AAA, and a Florida driver’s license, all under the name Adam Cooper.

  “The credit cards are all good,” Pax said. “But use each only once. If I were you, I’d avoid using any of them at all. Cards leave trails.”

  Ash thumbed out the license and looked at the picture. It could have been him, or it could have been someone else entirely.

  “We had to do a bit of fancy Photoshop work on that,” Pax said. “But it’ll pass for now. When that new face of yours settles in, you can get a real picture taken.”

  Ash put the license back, then picked up the piece of paper.

  “Why is this here?” he asked. It was the pink slip for a 2009 Honda Accord.

  “You don’t want to walk everywhere, do you?” Pax asked. “It’ll be waiting when we land. Registration will hold up even if you get pulled over.”

  Ash stared at the cash and the cards and pink slip. “What do you guys want from me? You can’t be giving me all this for free.”

  Pax was silent for several seconds. “The hope is you’ll come back and help us when your personal business is settled. But that’ll be up to you. It’s not an expectation. We’d do this for you no matter what.”

  “Come back and help you do what, exactly?”

  Pax leaned back in his seat. “That’s something you’ll have to hear from Matt, when you’re ready.” He closed his eyes like he was going to take a nap.

  Ash transferred the items into his bag, then pulled out the two files from the briefcase. The first folder contained a set of grainy, five-by-seven photos, eight in all. Five were of men, and three were of women. A note was attached to the front picture.

  If you see any of these people, or someone you think looks like any of them, I’d appreciate it if you would contact us.

  Matt

  Ash looked at the pictures again. None of the faces were familiar to him. He put the photos back in the folder and set it aside. The second folder contained newspaper clippings. There was also a note with these.

  Some things to think about.

  This one was not signed, but the handwriting was the same as the other.

  Ash looked through the clippings, reading the headlines: Earth Population Hits 7 Bil, Oil Spill Devastates Gulf Coast, Darfur Genocide Sees No End, Ethnic Cleansing a Worldwide Epidemic, Vanuatu Sees Territory Shrink As Oceans Rise.

  Cheerful stuff.

  “Those you can keep.”

  Pax’s voice surprised him. Ash looked over, but Pax was still lying back with his eyes closed.

  “The only things I need to take back are the pictures and the briefcase.”

  “Are these articles supposed to mean something to me?” Ash asked.

  “Didn’t cut them out. Don’t know what they are. Was just told you could keep them.”

  Ash wasn’t sure he wanted to keep them, but he slipped the folder into his bag. He could always throw them out later.

  “How long are we going to be in the air?” he asked.

  “A couple hours.”

  “Is there a bathroom on this thing?”

  “In back.”

  As Ash passed Chloe, she eyed him warily but didn’t pull back.

  He had almost forgotten about her as he looked through the things Pax had brought him. Matt had said she would be valuable to him, but Ash was doubtful that whatever value she brought would outweigh the negatives he felt she had. It would probably be best to part ways once she pointed him in the right direction.

  Because if she got in his way…

  RACHEL GOT OUT of the car and joined her brother at the edge of the runway. Together they watched the Gulfstream gain speed as it rushed away from them then lift off into the air. It wasn’t until the plane was a little dot in the distance that either of them spoke.

  “What do you think his chances are?” she asked.

  “You know I’m not good at figuring out odds. But if you pushed me I’d probably say not a chance in he
ll.”

  “We’ve had people beat that before.”

  “Yes, we have.”

  She smiled. “You once said there was no way we would ever be able to defeat them.”

  He took a breath. “I’m still inclined to believe that.”

  “Yet we’re still here. Still fighting.”

  “It’s a war that should have started a lot earlier than it did. All we’re doing is damage control and catch up.”

  They fell silent.

  “Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

  “You mean after he beats no chance in hell? Maybe.”

  “We could certainly use him.”

  “We already are,” Matt said.

  Rachel knew he was talking about the vials of Ash’s blood their off-site team was already working with. Their resources and facilities weren’t as impressive as the organization they were up against, but they weren’t working with kids’ chemistry sets either, and their people were both dedicated and motivated.

  “I think he will be back,” she said.

  Silently, they both looked west, in the direction the plane had finally disappeared. For the moment, there was nothing more to say.

  Twenty-Nine

  CONFIRMATION CAME AT noon when Tamara’s mother called, wailing, and told her that someone from the California Highway Patrol had just notified her that Gavin was dead. Thirty minutes later, a list of the Tehachapi casualties was handed out to the media at Fort Irwin.

  Tamara knew Gavin’s name would be there, but when she saw it, it was as if the breath had been ripped from her lungs.

  Joe put an arm around her. “I’ll call the network and let them know. You won’t have to do any more reports.”

  “No,” she said. “Don’t call.”

  “You don’t need to be a hero.”

  “I need to do this, okay? I need to have this right now. Understand?” What she didn’t say was that while Joe had been off at a logistics briefing elsewhere on the base, she and Bobby had been working on a piece about her brother’s death that she wanted to work into one of her upcoming reports.

  “Seriously, Tammy. Your brother died. Don’t push yourself.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Bobby said.

  Joe frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “What else is she going to do out here?” Bobby asked, looking around. “It’ll give her something to take her mind of things until she can go home.”

  Joe thought for a moment, then looked at Tamara. “If that’s what you really want.”

  She nodded. “It’s what I want.”

  She allowed herself a quick glance at Bobby while Joe was distracted by a couple of helicopters landing nearby. “Done?” she mouthed.

  He nodded.

  Good. As soon as she could figure out how to work it in, the report would be ready to go.

  “Who are these guys?” Joe asked.

  Tamara turned around. The two arriving helicopters had settled down about fifty yards from where the press was camped out. The only other time helicopters had landed in that area was when they were all evacuated here. Though these were dark green, they had no markings on them, military or otherwise.

  Three men jumped out of each helicopter, then gathered on the tarmac. After about half a minute, two of the men broke off and headed over to a waiting Jeep. The helicopters, though, had not powered down, giving the impression their stay was going to be short.

  “I have no idea,” Tamara said. “National Guard?”

  “Could be, I guess.”

  They were just turning away when Bobby said, “Oh, crap.”

  Tamara looked over. Bobby, always looking for images they could use, had his camera on his shoulder, shooting the helicopters.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He stepped back into the shade of the canopy and said, “Come here.”

  Tamara walked over, with Joe right on her heels. As soon as she got there, Bobby handed her the camera.

  “The four men,” he said.

  She aimed the lens at the men on the tarmac.

  “The guy on the left.”

  She centered the picture on the guy in question.

  “Here,” Bobby said. “Let me zoom it in for you.”

  He pushed a button on top of the camera, and the image of the man rushed at her.

  “Whoa, whoa,” she said. “Too much.” The picture had pushed past the man, and into the passenger area of the helicopter. There was something yellow clumped on the seat, but she barely registered it. “Let me do it.”

  Bobby showed her where the button was, and she eased the zoom out a little, then adjusted the angle so she could see the man’s face. He was in profile, and though he looked a bit familiar, she couldn’t place him. Maybe one of the guys who’d flown them out during the evacuation?

  She was about to ask Bobby what was so special about the guy when the man turned, suddenly bringing his whole face into view.

  For several seconds she forgot to breathe. Finally, she pulled her eye from the viewfinder and allowed Bobby to take the camera from her.

  “What is it?” Joe asked.

  Bobby gave him the camera.

  “Oh, my God,” Joe exclaimed once he’d gotten a look at the man.

  They had all made the same connection.

  Standing a little over a hundred feet away from them was the man who’d killed Tamara’s brother.

  THE ORDERLY CHECKED on the children one last time. Their vital signs were stable, and their breathing deep and even. He made sure the IV tubes would not get caught on anything when the beds were moved, then exited the room.

  His colleague had finished packing up the pharmaceutical supplies and their workstation, so the orderly did a final walk-through to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. They hadn’t.

  He picked up the radio from their desk and said, “Station K. Ready and awaiting removal.”

  “Roger, Station K. Removal team should be there in two minutes.”

  “Copy that, Control.”

  Together, he and his colleague double-checked all the latches on the containers to make sure everything was secure.

  “I think we’re good,” his colleague said. The orderly was just starting to nod in agreement when the other man blurted out, “Wait.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Did you check the room at the end?”

  The orderly shook his head. As far as he knew, there’d been no reason to go in there.

  “I used the bathroom in there this morning,” the other man said, already starting off down the hall. “I think I might have left a tissue on the sink.”

  “Jesus. Get it. We’re not supposed to leave anything.”

  “I know. I know.”

  His colleague headed quickly down the hall and disappeared into the last room on the right. When he came back out several seconds later, he held up his hand. In it was a couple of unused tissues.

  The orderly was about to read him the riot act for being sloppy, but right then the removal team arrived and he soon forgot.

  “WHAT SHOULD WE do?” Bobby asked.

  Though Tamara barely heard the cameraman speak, the only thought she had was that she was looking at the man who had put a bullet through her brother’s back. Without even realizing it, she started walking toward him.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Joe asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Tammy. That’s not a good idea,” Bobby said.

  Still, she didn’t reply.

  Footsteps ran up behind her, Bobby on one side and Joe on the other. Each grabbed one of her arms, stopping her.

  “Snap out of it,” Joe said. “Going over there isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

  She struggled to pull free. “I want to know his name.”

  The four men on the tarmac seemed to realize something was going on. They glanced in the PCN team’s direction, but then, as one, their gaze swung to the left. The two men who had separated from them earlier were
jogging rapidly toward the helicopters. One of them was waving the other men toward the aircraft.

  “No!” Tamara yelled as the man who’d killed her brother disappeared inside the helicopter.

  Bobby grabbed her around the shoulders, holding her back.

  The last man had barely gotten on board when both helicopters rose into the air and shot off toward the North.

  “No!” she repeated.

  “It’s okay,” Bobby said. “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

  “But he shot my brother. I…I don’t even know his name.”

  “I got him on tape. If there’s a name on his uniform, I probably got that, too.”

  “Hey, you guys all right?”

  The three of them turned and saw Peter Chavez stepping out in their direction from under the canopy.

  “We’re fine, Peter,” Joe said.

  “You sure?” Peter asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  As soon as the wire-service reporter returned to the shade, Tamara whisper, “I want to check the video.”

  Bobby nodded.

  As they walked quickly back to where Bobby had set down the camera, she touched his arm, slowing him and putting a little distance between them and Joe.

  “I want you to cut a shot of the guy into the story,” she whispered.

  He pulled back a little. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t care if it’s a good idea. Will you do it?”

  He grimaced, but then nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  PAUL WAS COVERED in dust. It had even gotten under his helmet and into his month. He tried spitting out what he could, but he was already parched. What he really would have loved at that moment was a nice long drink of water, but that would have to wait until he found civilization. His bottles had been in his backpack the men from the helicopters had taken.