After all this time of seeking his family, being with them again should have been a huge weight off his shoulders, but it only made it worse. It was one thing to say a bunch of encouraging crap about escape and rescue, but now, in the dark, pressed against the girls, the fear closed his throat. Somehow, some way, he had to get them out of this.
He had to think of something.
The Emergency Signal
--------------- Sean -----------
There was a crackle. Sean’s eyes fluttered.
Ri-ise and Shi-ine and Give God Your Glory, Glory!
Ri-ise and Shi-ine and Give God Your Glory, Glory!
Rise and Shine and Give God Your Glory, Glory!
Children of the Lord.
Sean sat straight up and nearly bashed his head on the wooden bunk above him before covering his ears. Around him, the others were awakening with knitted brows. Children’s voices blared into the freezing dawn air.
“Ugh, what is that?” Sara sat up beside him groggily.
“That,” Lucy muttered, “is the call to prayer.”
Sean sat stunned as the colonists rose and began piling on winter gear and trooping out the door. Lucy waved at them to stay down as she followed. Darryl sat in the corner, wrapped in a blanket and a frown. Once the others had left, Sean and Sara crept to the screened window and peeled back a corner of the plastic sheeting covering it. The colonists trudged into a small assembly and then sat, huddled together, on the snow-covered ground.
The song finished.
“Thank goodness,” Sean murmured.
“May the Lord be with you!” A new voice came through. Carter. Sean’s knuckles cracked as his hands balled into fists.
“And also with you.” The response rose from the colonists, and Sean felt Sara twitch in surprise beside him.
“I’d like to begin the daily prayer with a few announcements. Ms. Patterson’s daughter has recovered from her fever. Praise be to God.”
“All praise Him.”
The colonists’ dull voices made the hair on the back of Sean’s neck stand up. They’d only been there a week and already everyone had learned the drill. He shuddered to think how they’d been “taught,” his gaze shifting to the watchtowers. The Lobos were lounging against the railings, their dangling guns a vivid reminder that this was not your average congregation. He searched for Carter in confusion, but didn’t see him.
“I’d also like to ask for more prayers for the Tyson family. They’ve given their full Tithe, but it has been a burden on them. Please pray for their health and safety.”
“Look, Sean!” Sara pointed to the gates of the prison yard and Sean finally saw the loudspeakers.
“Freaking coward,” he fumed. “Too chicken to come give his sermons in person.”
“He can’t, Sean,” Darryl said wearily. “Even though he removed the people from my list, he must be scared that others here know his secret.”
Sean’s gaze turned back to his family crouched in the frigid prison yard, Lucy’s arm anchoring his little sister Zoe to the ground where she could draw no attention from the Lobos. The only warmth he felt was the burning in his chest. “I don’t care. He’s still a coward.”
After the daily prayers, the colonists were free to do what they wanted within the confines of the prison yard. Sean and Sara spent the day hiding inside until nightfall, when they reluctantly left their families behind. Darryl elected to stay with the colonists as the “watchdog,” knowing full well that if he were caught, he’d be killed.
“It’s the least I can do, Sean,” Darryl insisted.
“All right,” Sean agreed. “Remember, no contact unless it’s an emergency.”
Darryl faked a salute, his forced smile dying before it reached the worry lines spidering from the corners of his eyes.
They set out to do some reconnaissance before heading back north. Unfortunately, what they found wasn’t good. Camp Truth, which they learned from a discarded sign was once called “Great Times River Camp,” turned out to be something of an impenetrable fortress. The river wound around it like a moat around a castle, forming a peninsula that was two stories high on all sides, save to the south, where a massive Dead Zone prevented any surprise attack.
The settlement itself included a large cluster of screened cabins, just like those in the prison camp, only their screens had been boarded up, rather than sealed with flimsy plastic like the ones housing the colonists. He estimated that Camp Truth housed between three and four hundred Truthers.
“How are so many of them staying fed through the winter in such a tight space?” Sara said. “The Tithe?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t put anything past Carter. Probably has his so-called ‘Angels’ go steal food from non-Truthers.”
Harsh laughter slashed the night air. Sean jumped back behind the thicket where he and Sara were wedged, his jacket snagging on the brambles. Sara cursed and worked his coat free just as a stream of Lobo “Angels” appeared on the path. Sean gaped, counting the shadows. There had to be close to a hundred of them. He counted again, desperately trying to make out weapons. A pair of Lobos coming from the cliffs carried the automatic weapons he’d seen from a distance. As he’d thought, they were Eden’s. He sucked his teeth.
The Lobos with weapons headed toward a large shed from which, to Sean’s surprise, electric light streamed each time the door swung open. Most of the settlement was dark, with the exception of flickering candles, but this shed was important enough that they’d found a way to light it.
Sara tapped him on the shoulder. “Armory?”
The ball that had been circling around and around his mind slowed and settled. Those with weapons left without them. Those without them left with them. Shift change, he thought, just like Eden. Sara was right. “C’mon,” he said, nodding. “Time to get out of here.”
They made their way east, following the cliff as it curled back on itself, and then finally turned north. After half a night of searching the best they could find was a point where the cliff dipped to just one story. Sean lay, peering over the edge with his flashlight. The light barely penetrated five feet of the mist above the river, but in some ways that was comforting. The route to the bottom was a treacherous tangle of roots and ledges, many coated in ice. Seeing it probably wouldn’t make it more appealing.
Sara knelt beside him. “I dunno, Sean. This would be scary in the daylight…” She didn’t finish her thought. She didn’t have to. There was no other choice. If they went south, they faced a giant Dead Zone. If they went west, they were back in the settlement. This was their only option. This… He squinted into the mist. This was insane.
The descent was every bit as excruciating as he’d expected. He went first but there were times when the route forced them to crawl over or past one another. It was four hours of painful, icy, baby steps. Only Sara’s constant whispered encouragement kept him going. They hit the ground and he nearly kissed it. His hands ached, his feet ached, even his toe tips ached. They caught their breath and waded into the river, just calf deep at this point. The moment he took his first two steps, pain shot up his legs like fire and his breath left him.
“Holy shit! Mother…shucker,” Sara cursed behind him, the water splashing from her strides in violent, icy arcs.
He followed her lead, a tottering iceman torn to shreds by witches’ claws. When they reached the opposite bank he willed his numb legs to climb, at times grabbing them with his hands to yank them forward. He collapsed beside a panting Sara.
“Good Lord, that burned like fire,” she said, yanking off her sopping boots. “Now I wish we’d taken our chances to find the dry crossing.”
“Too far,” he grunted, pulling off his own wet shoes and socks. He tugged at his scarf and dried his feet, sighing. He flinched as his feet throbbed, thousands of tiny needles beginning the electric burn of thawing flesh. He gritted his teeth. “Gah…I hear you. I feel like I walked over hot coals, not through a freezing river.”
“At le
ast I don’t have to worry that my ankle will swell up,” Sara joked.
He smiled. She’d broken her ankle riding her bicycle at eight years old and it still sometimes bothered her. “Yeah, I’d say that’s your ice bath for this trip, huh?”
She exhaled. “Thank God! Let’s get changed.”
She dug into her pack and tossed replacement layers at Sean. He unstrapped their extra shoes: an obsession of Fi’s. Once they’d been slowed by a whole week when little Aldy Cooper’s shoes had worn out far from any sort of town. Duct tape had only taken them another mile. She’d made them carry extra shoes ever since. The thought of her tightened his chest. He tugged at his laces, furious and triumphant and terrified all at once. At least he’d found Kiara. He hoped it was in time.
They set out at a burning pace. Sean turned their remaining radio to broadcast as they ran. “Luc? Jean? Are you there?”
It was silent for a moment and then... “Sean? What’s going on?”
“Luc, I need you…to tell everyone…to switch to the emergency…signal, ok?” he huffed. “Let me know when…you have…everyone on that signal.”
He and Sara crested a ridge, ripping through the underbrush. The emergency signal was something Eden had come up with when they’d sent their own security members out to help guard the Nets. The idea was that even with the regular signal change patterns they’d used, there might still be a need for one signal that could be used in a pinch. And this was definitely a pinch.
Sara pushed hard beside him, her head down. “What are you…gonna do…Sean?”
He focused on the horizon where the white moon rose like a spotlight. “I’m going to call everyone we know.”
Reprieve
---------------- Asher ---------------
Asher slumped on the couch while Squeak bounced Luke. Fi lay huddled in bed, her chest barely seeming to rise. Not that he was doing much better. Just breathing in and out was work for them all. There was nothing left but waiting. Endless waiting.
The radio crackled. “Asher? It’s Sean. Are you there?”
Asher leapt up and grabbed the radio. “Yes, yes!” His heart squeezed in sudden terror. Dear God, please let it be good news.
“We found them! They’re ok! Tell Fi they’re alive! I saw Kiara myself!”
Asher’s legs went weak and he fell back against the couch. He hadn’t expected this. Not at this point. He’d played this moment over and over again in his mind expecting the worst. Each time he’d turned to Fi without answers, without words. How could he tell her that their Kiara was gone? But she wasn’t. She was alive.
He expected a surge of joy, but was overwhelmed by nausea instead. She IS alive. Ki’s alive. He swallowed again as tears filled his eyes. He’d been so worried for Fi that he hadn’t let himself feel how worried he’d been for Kiara.
He heard something. Babbling. He looked down, registering the radio still gripped in his shaking hands.
“Tell her, Asher. Tell Fi it’s going to be ok. They’re in this prison camp, but they’re ok. We’ll be back to Jean and Luc’s in three weeks. You guys have to meet us there. And…tell her I have a plan.”
Asher heard a noise and turned to see Fi rolling over, disoriented. “What? Is that Sean?”
He swiped at his tears and settled beside her. “Yes, baby, it’s Sean. Kiara’s ok,” he choked. “She’s ok.”
Fi grabbed the radio, squeezing it until her knuckles turned white. “Sean? Are you sure?”
Tears hovered on the edge of her lashes, but she glanced up and gestured for Squeak to bring her the baby. Goosebumps flared along Asher’s skin. She asked to see Luke! He reached out and then stopped, hesitant. Though her eyes never left the radio, she took his hand and squeezed it, before accepting Luke from Squeak.
“I’m sure, Fi,” Sean was saying, as she listened in rapt attention, shivering.
“Oh, thank you, Sean! And thank you, Sara, and just, thank God. And, Sean….” she stopped, hiccupping. “…You have a plan?”
“Yup, Fi, I have a plan.”
Asher took the radio from her hand as she started to cry in earnest, clutching Luke.
He signed off with Sean as Fi collapsed into his arms, Luke cradled between them. The ache in his chest was crushing him. To have her come back to life, to be touching him, holding him, and most importantly, to have her holding Luke… The horror of the past few weeks started to melt away as he invited Squeak to join them in an embrace.
“They found your Family, Squeak,” he said, giving the boy’s shoulders a squeeze. He turned back to Fi. Leaning down, he touched his forehead to hers. “And now we’re going to get them back.”
Fi nodded. She leaned back against the wall, cradling Luke.
“Ash, you and Squeak need to go get me some food. Get something easy on the stomach. I’m going to have to put weight on fast for Luke.” Asher bowed his head slightly and stifled a new wave of tears. There was no doubt about it. His Fi was back.
All day long, Fi pushed hard to come back to life. She ate the food they brought, took a mid-day nap without waking up screaming, and even began walking around Eden. At first he’d worried that the devastation would push her back toward depression, but she’d bounced Luke in her arms and taken it all in stone-faced. She was no longer terrified. She was outraged.
Exhausted by even these simple steps forward, she slipped into bed in just a t-shirt and held the covers open for him. His heart flip-flopped and for a second he had to lean against the wall to keep from buckling with relief. It had been so long since he’d held her in his arms at night that he didn’t even remember what it felt like. Eager, he stripped to his boxer shorts and slid in next to her, winding his right arm into the space beneath her neck so they could spoon. She tugged her thick hair out of the way, giving him room.
He snuggled into her neck and took a deep, contented breath. Tears pricked at his eyes. After all those nights sleeping alone, wondering if that was his future, it was almost too much to have her folded into him again like his missing piece. He closed his eyes, content.
After a minute her breathing caught and her muscles tensed. Before he could ask if anything was wrong, she took his hand from its resting place on her hip and slid his hand beneath her t-shirt. At she guided his hand along her ribs to her breast, she inhaled through her teeth, a quiet hiss.
Startled, Asher pulled away. “Are you ok?”
Fi turned into him and pulled him to her. Her eyes filled with tears as she pressed her mouth to his. Startled, he inhaled hard through the kiss as his desire roared to life, his heart battering itself within his chest like a trapped bird. Before his mind slid away he heard a snuffle and he froze.
“What?” She stopped, searching his face before rolling away with a cry. “You don’t want to.”
He caught her shoulder, turning her back and cupping her cheek. He wiped away a tear with his thumb. “Of course I want…you know…I mean, I want you, Fi.” God, the words wouldn’t come. “But do we have to worry?”
Her eyes squeezed, softening with understanding. “You’re right. Maybe we shouldn’t risk it.” His face fell and she smiled wearily. “That’s not what I meant, baby. Check my pack. I still have some.”
Her pack was shoved into the corner of the room, untouched since they’d moved into this space. He rifled through the pockets until he found the condoms. He turned back eagerly but as he crossed the room, his steps slowed. She was so pale. She shifted, her collarbone jutting from the neck of her shirt. And thin. He settled beside her. “Are you sure, Fi? We have all the time in the world, and I know you’re tired.”
She propped herself on one elbow, her eyes filling again. She pressed her free hand to his chest. “I need you, Ash.”
Nodding, he lay beside her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes, releasing a cascade of tears.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “I know crying isn’t very sexy. I’m trying to stop.”
He pushed her hair back and strok
ed her face. “Don’t try to stop, baby. Don’t try to be sexy. Just be with me, ok?”
“Ok.”
He kissed her softly, feeling the sting of his own tears. “Besides…” He pulled away and kissed her cheek. “…Everything you do is sexy.” He kissed her neck and she laughed and twitched away at the tickle. “You couldn’t be unsexy if you tried.” His lips fluttered over her collarbone and she sighed, running her hands down his back. They left a trail like a brand in his mind and he shivered. He’d wanted her touch for so long…
Though he’d thought he’d memorized every inch of her landscape, he proved himself wrong, finding new corners carved by her sorrow and hunger. Like the hollow just beneath her ribs that jumped away beneath his lips, deepening with every new kiss, and the scoop of her hipbone as it slid down to meet her inner thigh.
He spent time, taking care with the parts of his wife’s body and soul that were hurt. Her tears came and went, but he thought that was to be expected. She’d been lost, buried beneath the layers of her terrible imaginings. Now she was coming back to him, emerging from the prison of her mind.
When he couldn’t hold back any more, she joined him, seizing in his arms in a strangled pause of perfection. He collapsed, rolling onto his back at her side. “Whew!” He stared up at the ceiling, panting. And then he heard the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. She laughed.
He turned and took in the sight of his spectacular, albeit way-too-thin-right-now, we-have-to-get-her-healthy wife. Her arm was thrown across her eyes and she too was panting. She rolled to face him. “That was a lot of fun. Tell me again why we haven’t done that in a while.”
He swallowed a sad laugh, torn by her attempt at sarcasm, and pulled her to him.
“Wait, Ash,” she protested. “We’re sweaty.”
He cinched her tight. “I don’t care." He closed his eyes and pressed his face into her shoulder. “I missed you, Fi.”
She choked, squeezing his arm. “I missed you too.”
Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy Book 3) Page 9
