Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy Book 3)

by Rachel Fisher

  I is for Icarus

  ------------- Darryl -------------

  Darryl’s eyes stopped dancing and met his enemy’s. “How do you think they’re settling in, Carter?” If he hadn’t been bound he would have jumped across the table and wrung this loon’s neck.

  Carter slammed the table, making Darryl jump. “You will address me as ‘Dr. Lawson,’ you insolent little prick. You think you can speak to me that way, after all you’ve done in your quest for immortality?”

  Darryl’s eye twitched. Ignore him, he thought. Manipulation is this guy’s stock in trade. Don’t let him get to you.

  But Carter dug the knife in deeper. “Don’t you realize that all those people out there half-starving in the cold are there because of you and your twisted ambitions?”

  Darryl knew that Carter was expecting him to crumple, to fold beneath the weight of his guilt. Well, those days are gone. He pointed with his strapped hands. “What about you, Dr. Carter Lawson? Where do you get off being holier than thou, when every single thing you’ve told these people is a lie?”

  “You’re the liar! I’ve done nothing but create a stable life here.”

  “Just spare me, Carter. I know your secret, Mr. PhD in Psychology…Mr. Diaspora Participant.”

  “What?” Carter sat back, stunned.

  That’s right, asshole, Darryl thought, turnabout is fair play. He pushed harder. “How do you think your so-called followers are going to feel when they find out their ‘Father’ is actually the biggest liar of them all, that you’re sacrificing their future for your own revenge?”

  “How many of you know?”

  Darryl startled, the question catching him off-guard. “Uh, um, uh…all of us.”

  “Mmm.” Carter’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Silas!”

  The door swung open. “Yes, Father?”

  “This gentleman has shared a very important piece of information. It turns out that the colonists have started a new lie. They say that I was originally a scientist like them and that I only want revenge.”

  Darryl’s heart pounded. What was Carter doing?

  Silas’ expression never changed. “What a terrible lie.”

  “It’s not a lie!” Darryl protested.

  “Do you want me to have Silas silence you, Darryl?”

  Carter’s face had returned to a controlled mask. Silas cracked his knuckles and Darryl’s heart sank.

  “No.”

  This wasn’t going how he’d intended it when he’d imagined confronting Carter. The joy he would feel at revealing his secret. The fear in the man’s eyes…

  “That’s a good boy,” Carter said. “That may be the first intelligent decision you’ve made today. Now, I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer them truthfully.”

  Silas pulled out a knife.

  “No!” Darryl panicked. “No, you can’t do this!”

  With a flick, Silas freed Darryl’s wrists. Carter smiled at the bewildered mix of relief and panic in Darryl’s eyes. Then Silas twisted Darryl’s left arm behind his back, yanking him to his feet. Darryl cried out as pain shot through his shoulder.

  “Now we understand each other, Dr. Heil.” Carter said. “I hate having to repeat myself, but you seem a little slow. So…I’m going to ask questions and you’re going to answer honestly. If I think that you’re lying, I’m going to have Silas express my displeasure. Understood?”

  Darryl bit his lip, still unwilling to bow to this…this pig. Carter raised an eyebrow and Silas yanked at his arm. Electric pain shot into his skull and his shoulder gave a dull pop. He gasped. “Understood, understood!”

  “So, Dr. Heil. You just told me that your group is planning to spread a disgusting lie about me. And I want to know…how many of your group are in on this plan? How many will be telling this lie?”

  Silas tugged at Darryl’s arm before he had a chance to respond and he cried out. “All right! I said I’d tell you…Jesus!” His face was red and tears had begun to slip down his cheeks. “Only a small number knew about…” his voice trailed off as fear stilled his tongue.

  “…the LIE!” Carter roared.

  “Yes, yes, the…lie. Only a few leaders, scientists, and heads of security.”

  “Release him,” Carter said, and Silas let go.

  Darryl dropped into his chair with a moan, his throbbing arm hanging limp at his side.

  “Silas, grab some paper and pencil from the top drawer in my cabinet over there. You, Dr. Heil,” Carter said, pointing, “are going to write down all the names for me. We already have your security team, but I want the others.”

  Darryl’s eyes widened and his heart began to pound.

  “Yes, you made a grave mistake in telling me this,” Carter said. “Though I’m glad to see that your ego continues to trump your good sense.”

  “What…what are you going to do to them?” Darryl’s mind was awash in the possibilities.

  Carter pushed the paper and pencil toward him. “Don’t worry, Dr. Heil. It’s not going to be nearly as bad as what I do to you.”

  Darryl blinked. He should’ve shuddered. He should’ve been terrified of the pain or even death to come. But instead was relieved. Maybe if he has me, he thought, he won’t hurt the others.

  As he forced his shaking hand to write the names, he kept repeating that. He has me. He won’t hurt them. His fingers formed the words. Miles. Louis. Larry. With each one the mantra got harder to repeat as his mind flew to doubts. What if he does hurt them? What if he hurts… His fingers stopped. He shoved the list away and dropped his eyes, sick.

  “Mmmmm,” Carter said, scanning it. “I find it interesting that all of your precious Council members knew about the lie, except one. Don’t you find that interesting, Silas?”

  “Very.”

  Darryl went cold. How the hell did they know about the Council?

  “Yeeeeeessss, Dr. Heil.” Carter smiled, noting his frown. “We know a lot more about you than you know about us, but then, we believe in doing our research.” He slapped his hand on his knee with a cackle. “We watched you for weeks before we made our move. You know, you really should do a better job of policing your support tunnels, in my opinion. But that’s not the point. The point is that you’ve lied to me. Again.” Carter shook his head, tsking.

  Darryl bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. The sick bastard had only made him write the names to torture him! Well, no matter what they did, Darryl wasn’t going to write her name down. They’d have to kill him first. He shook his head. “I was unaware that I’d missed someone.”

  Carter scoffed. “Is it because she’s a woman? Are you actually that chivalrous, Darryl? I didn’t think you had any selfless instincts. Or is it because she’s…” he paused, “…special?”

  Darryl leapt forward, his rage overwhelming the agony in his shoulder as Silas yanked him back. “Don’t touch her! You don’t touch her you animal! She’s innocent…”

  “She’s not innocent!” Carter shouted, his face reddening. “She’s just like you: a lost, selfish, science-trumps-all LIAR!”

  “No,” Darryl moaned, dissolving. “You can’t hurt her. It’s my fault, not hers, or any of them. You know that!”

  “You’re right,” Carter said, turning away. “Get him out of my sight, Silas. And make sure that I never seen his worthless face ever again.”

  “Please!” Darryl’s plea became a scream as Silas jerked him to his feet. A hand clamped over Darryl’s mouth like a steel plate and Silas dragged him out the door.

  ###############################################

  An hour later, Darryl’s thoughts finally turned back to fear for himself as he stumbled through the darkening forest with Silas’ AK-47 at his back. His shoulder felt like it had been through a food processor and the only thing keeping his arm from hanging loose were the cable-ties binding his wrists behind him. Silas had also thrown in a few good punches and kicks for the heck of it.

  By now Darryl was tough enough th
at he could handle all of that. But there was only one reason he could think of for marching someone way out into the woods with a gun. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “You could leave that freak. He’s lying to you all!”

  Silas laughed, a short bark like a dog’s. “For a genius you really are a moron. I should have known you were ‘immortality guy’ when you gave me trouble on the trail. No goddamned sense…hey, keep moving!”

  Silas’ boot pushed his back from behind and Darryl whirled. “Why? Where are you taking me? What is the goddamned point of making me march so far out here?”

  “Oooh, tough guy, huh?” Silas widened his eyes. “Gonna start the whole, ‘just do what you gotta do, man’ speech for me?” He fingered his gun and tilted his head. “You sure about that?”

  Darryl shrugged and then grunted as pain shot through his shoulder. “But you’re doing this for a lunatic. It’s personal revenge for him, that’s it. He doesn’t believe any of this other religious stuff he peddles.”

  Silas leaned forward until their foreheads were practically touching. “I. Don’t. Care. Get it? Do you get it now, thickie? I’m not in it for a one-way ticket to heaven.”

  “Then what are you in it for?” Darryl’s heart sank. He was dead. It was over.

  Silas stepped back, his eyes narrowing. “You know, it’s people like you that always had shit to say to people like me growing up. So what? So I’m poor and my ma is a drunk with a hundred boyfriends. That’s not my fault. So why do you gotta hold me down and say I’m never gonna be anything? But no, it’s fancy-pants that go to pretty schools and drive pretty cars and play with pretty money that become somebodies. Not born losers like me.”

  Silas had started to lean forward again, and was now so angry that he was spitting, the flecks landing on Darryl’s cheeks. He grabbed Darryl’s shoulders, sending electric fire shooting into his fingertips, and spun him. The hard, unmistakable end of the AK-47 barrel pressed between Darryl’s shoulders. Tears filled his eyes and his teeth began to chatter. This was it. The moment he left the Earth.

  Silas leaned down so that his mouth was next to Darryl’s ear. “Now who’s the winner?” he whispered, the heat of his breath searing compared to the frigid night air. “But at least I’ll give you a chance,” he added. “When I say, ‘go,’ you run, got it?” The barrel dug deeper into Darryl’s skin. “Or you die. It’s up to you.”

  Silas counted to three, holding Darryl’s arms until the last second that he said, “Go.” The word left his lips and Darryl was flying, barreling through the forest like that loosed bull through Eden, stumbling and changing directions in hopes that a zig-zag would save him. Night had fallen and he could only see shadows before his face as he ran. His hope that this would deter Silas was dashed as the rattling of gunfire broke the silence and he heard something zip past his ear.

  There was a pause as he spun to his left and then more rattling and a searing pain ripped through his bicep. He tripped and fell down an embankment, rolling and bouncing helplessly, a cloud of dust and leaves in his wake. He hit bottom hard and yelped as his shoulder hit a root. Then he lay still, frozen with fear, and listened. There was scrabbling in the underbrush as Silas searched.

  Darryl’s heart pounded and his body throbbed. He knew he’d been shot by the pain and growing warmth in his bicep, but he had no idea how bad it was. Could you bleed out from a bicep wound?

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Silas sang, laughing. There was more rattling as he fired his gun.

  Darryl scrunched up tighter in his little hollow, praying. He hid, holding his breath, for a long time. He couldn’t tell how long because every second felt like hours, but after a time of taunting him and searching, Silas grew impatient. He’d come close a few times, but the darkness was deep at this point.

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he yelled. “You’re gonna die out here, Dr. Immortality. Eat that mortal shit!”

  Darryl continued to hold his breath, his chest seeming to have forgotten how to rise, as the sound Silas’ footfalls disappeared and the night sounds descended. Now there was only the quiet trill of winter’s night birds, the scratch of the wind in bare trees. He shuddered.

  When he’d been praying earlier, he’d wanted to live, but now he wasn’t so sure. Curled here, alone, his arms pinned behind him in the frigid dark, he knew that Silas was right. Maybe it would have been better to let him shoot me in the back, he thought. Because I’m going to die out here.

  A Heavy Tithe

  ------------------ Sean -------------------

  Sean cursed as fat snowflakes fluttered down like confetti. Though he was known to curse on occasion, the ripping blue streak he let fly startled Sara.

  “What?”

  “This, Sara!” He waved at the sky in exasperation. They’d finally thought they’d found some fresh signs last night, but it had been late and dark. And now it was all gone. Covered in a fresh layer of snow like so many frozen secrets.

  Sara’s jaw set. “I know it sucks, Sean, but we just have to keep trying. We’re almost there!”

  Sara’s stubbornness was usually annoying, but at this moment he was grateful for it. Especially because they both knew that for the second time in forty-eight hours, she was full of crap. First she told Asher that whopper about the “traveler” assuring them the colonists were ok and now this illogical optimism. Who the hell knew if they were close or not? It almost didn’t matter at this point because they were running out of rations. They couldn’t keep running all over God’s green acre, as his mother liked to say… Oh God…his mother. They had to keep trying. “Sorry.”

  “It’s ok.” She gave him a little pat on the shoulder and looked up at the sky. A giant snowflake fluttered and settled right onto her nose. She managed a sad laugh. “It’s going to happen, Sean. I can feel it. We’re going to…”

  “I don’t care what Father says!”

  A voice rose in the distance and they threw themselves to the ground.

  “They’re living up there with all kind of supplies and my family is practically starving. I can’t do it!”

  The voice was coming from upriver. Sean motioned to Sara and they made their way carefully around the bend, crouching low. Sara drew her daggers and he heard her slowing her breathing, focusing for the fight.

  “I mean it, Lucius!”

  Now the voice was easy to pinpoint…it was directly below them. Two days prior, they’d found a crossing and made their way to the south bank of the river. Then they’d turned back to the east, following the river to the point where they’d lost the colonists’ trail. The southern riverbank had risen steadily into a towering sheer, white wall. The voices were coming from the north riverbank, nearly two stories down.

  Three men stood beside a sizable, flat-bottomed boat with oars. Even beneath their winter gear, their tell-tale tunics and cropped hair made them unmistakable.

  “Truthers,” Sara whispered.

  There was a pile of boxes and bags covered partly by a tarp in the rowboat. The man on the shoreline was arguing, while the others loaded more bags into the boat. The loaders were strong and imposing, with tattoos peeking from their collars and machetes at their waists.

  “And Lobos,” Sean said grimly. Fi was right, he thought, his rage bubbling. These Lobos are working for the Truthers.

  The larger of the two Lobos stepped up, forcing the Truther on the shoreline backward. “Do you want me to tell Father that you no longer need an Angel for protection, Dan? I’m sure Jeron would rather go back with us to the settlement than stay way out here.” The other Lobo snorted.

  “But it’s not fair,” Dan whined. “Father doubled the Tithe this year and it’s too much for us. We know the settlement needs our contribution, but what if my family runs out?”

  “Tell you what, Dan,” the Lobo said. “I’ll just take Jeron with me and you can keep your extra food Tithe to yourselves. Then you’ll find out how easy it is to defend that food with
out an Angel like us.”

  Sara gasped. “They call the Lobos ‘Angels!’ That’s so freaking wrong!”

  Sean’s stomach turned. He’d attended enough Bible study to follow the logic, however twisted. “They mean it like ‘Angels of the Lord.’ And you know who they mean by ‘Father.’”

  Sara slid one of her blades along the other, making him grateful that they were too far away to fight. Not that he didn’t understand. He wanted to kill these Lobo “Angels” and he wanted to kill “Dan.” Freaking Truther. Saliva pooled in Sean’s mouth and he spat. But most of all, he wanted to kill Carter. Calling himself “Father.” It was disgusting. But it didn’t matter. Carter had the upper hand until they found their families.

  Below them, the Truther wilted, his shoulders drooping. “All right, Lucius. We’ll do the best we can. And tell Father we do appreciate the Angel’s protection. But I’m glad this is the last collection of the winter, because we can’t do anything more.”

  The two Lobos hopped into the now-loaded boat and pushed it from the shoreline with the oars. To Sean’s surprise, they turned it to face the current and began rowing upstream.

  “Believe me, Dan,” Lucius called, “you’ve got it way easier than us.” Straining against the rushing water, the men groaned in rhythm.

  Sara sheathed her blades. “So Lawson makes the Truthers who aren’t in the settlement give up food for protection?”

  “Sounds that way.” Sean stood, watching the rowboat. “ It’s just like the tithe some of my friends’ parents did with their church.”

  “Only it’s with food.”

  It made sense, Sean thought. Food would be the modern tithe. And the only thing that would make someone trade it would be protection. It was a beautiful little racket that the guy had going. It sounded like Dan’s family might barely make it through the winter, even if this was their last contribution. Wait…last contribution? “Sara,” he said, grabbing her hand, “we have to follow them.” He pulled her with him along the cliff, keeping the boat in sight.