Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy Book 3)

by Rachel Fisher

  “About you winning. Because I definitely win.”

  He stood and stretched slowly, making it a point to flex every single muscle. “Is that so?”

  She took a step toward him. “Guess I’ve never been able to keep my eyes to myself, have I?” She untied her cargo pants and let them drop.

  “Damn,” Asher groaned. “I do love you in your underwear, Mrs. Grey.” He took a deep, shuddering breath as she reached out and started untying his pants. “But now that you mention your whole Peeping Tom moment…”

  She looked up at him. His eyes were dancing. “What?”

  “There’s something about that day that I didn’t tell you, Fi.”

  Really? “What’s that?”

  His mouth opened and then he paused, his face twisting as if he were embarrassed.

  “C’mon, now,” she laughed, thumping his bare chest and simultaneously fighting the urge to trail her fingertips over his abs. So damned sexy… She shook her head. “You can’t start that and not finish!”

  “Ok, ok. You’re right,” he admitted. “It’s my fault for starting this.” His eyes slid down her body to her fingers, tucked just inside his waistband. A flush crept up his neck. “The truth is that when I left you at the bath that day, I didn’t just walk away. I, um…I stayed and I watched you.”

  “What?” Fi’s mouth flopped open. Like a stupid cliché, she thought, but WHAT?!? After all the ribbing she took for stalking him, he did the same thing? She almost wanted to smack him, but one look at his face set her laughing instead. Even in the firelight he was an obvious shade of beet. He looked like a kid who’d been caught stealing. “Hmph,” she replied. “Is that so?”

  She stepped back, releasing Asher’s pants, which puddled at his feet. “So then…” She turned her back to him and crossed her arms, grabbing her sports bra at the bottom. “…You’ve seen this already.” She pulled the bra over her head and dropped it at her side, glancing over her shoulder. “Right?”

  His eyes were wide and he seemed to have gone mute. He nodded. She turned away again and hooked her thumbs into her panties, giving a little shimmy as she stepped out of them. She was about to turn back when he snatched her and spun her around. He kissed her so hard that their teeth clacked, and he grabbed her by her thighs, lifting her into his arms. She clung to him and buried her face in his neck.

  “I guess we both win,” he said, the breath hot on her shoulder. He sank to the floor with her in his arms. “I need you, Fionnuala. You needed me once. And now I need you.”

  She could barely hear him. Nonsensical thoughts of “yes” and “now” and “please” drowned out the part of her that was worried about tomorrow…that knew this was the source of his need. It didn’t matter. Right now, there was nothing else. Only need. “Yes, Ash.” Her fingers snaked into his hair. “Now. Please.”

  Your Assignment, Should You Choose to Accept It

  ----------- Fi ------------

  Hours later, Fi sat snuggled in her husband’s arms. They’d rejoined the others without explanation as to their disappearance, not that one was needed. Everyone was busy finding a way to ignore what was to come the next day.

  “Ugh!” Sara tossed her Bible to the floor and it bounced onto Fi’s feet. “Why did you make me study this stuff?”

  Given that they were stuck indoors until the weather improved, training was off the to-do list and Bible study was the next priority. Fi reached down and picked up the book, fixing the folded pages. She was silent, letting Sara work it out on her own. She knew that the whole religious aspect was Sara’s least favorite part of their cover.

  For Fi, it was a return to her childhood. Before her grandparents had moved back to Ireland, she’d attended Mass with them fairly often. But for Sara, the Bible represented only the Truthers, and the Truthers made Sara sicker than even the Lobos. At times, Fi would catch her unconsciously stroking her scar while she read. “What’s wrong, Sara?”

  Her friend gripped her head as she shook it. “I just wish I hadn’t had to do this part. The Bible study, I mean.”

  “Sar, I know you’re not really into it, but we just have to memorize a little…”

  Sara plopped down on the sleeping bag beside her. “That’s not the problem, Fi. The problem is that we can’t kill Carter.”

  Fi sat back, stunned.

  “What?” Sean perked up from the other side of the fire pit, where he was discussing siege tactics with Julius. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Sara groaned. “See? This Bible stuff sucks.” The others stared at her in shocked silence. “Well…I was skimming and I flipped ahead to the end. Guess I wanted to see what happened,” she said, pausing. “What, no laughs? Tough crowd.”

  “C’mon, Sara, out with it,” Julius snapped.

  “Sorry, Commander, sorry. Anyway, I was reading the stories of the apostles and how Stephen was stoned to death for his faith, and how that just stirred the Christians more, made them fight harder. And so, I started thinking…”

  “…that we can’t kill Carter,” Fi finished. “Shit. You’re right. We can’t kill him because all we’ll do is martyr him.”

  Fi felt like throwing down her own Bible. All day and all night since the moment Sean had radioed them, the only thing that had eased her mind was the thought of centering the barrel of her .22 right between Carter’s eyes and seeing his fear as she pulled the trigger.

  She had no idea how she felt about letting him live because that option had never occurred to her. It was one thing to try to spare innocent Truther women and children. Well, sort of innocent anyway. But Carter?

  “So if we can’t kill him, then what do we do? Capture him?” Sean’s question echoed Fi’s own.

  She thought about it. The only reason that Carter had followers in the first place was because they believed his lies. “We have to discredit him somehow.”

  “But how?” Sean asked. “If we just call him a liar, he’ll say the same about us. Darryl told us that Carter already started his counter-story.”

  Fi frowned, stumped. She looked down at the Bible and flipped through the pages, seeking an answer. The others were silent as well, lost in their own thoughts. How could they discredit Carter if the followers believed him and not Eden? What would make them change their minds?

  The thought of Darryl drifted through her mind and took her back to her conversation on the cliff top with Asher, just before their wedding. Yes, she thought, that’s it. It had been the answer then and it was the answer now. “I’ve got it.” All eyes swung to her. “We’ve got to get him to confess.”

  “How are we going to do that, Fi?” Sean asked.

  She smiled, her plan formulating in her mind. “We’re going to trick him. And not only is he going to confess, he’s going to do it very, very publicly.”

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

  The next day dawned against its will, the sun pounding the backs of the unrelenting clouds, demanding to be let out. Without success. Sleet and wet snow fell intermittently, smearing the forest greys into a single, dark smudge. They were just a mile from the enemy.

  Despite the dank conditions, the Army of Eden stood gathered, keeping silent vigil as Fi and Sara prepared to leave. Fi slid out of her black technical jacket and into the oversized cotton barn coat they’d selected for her “character,” Marie. Instead of her fleece ear warmer, she slid a bandanna over her head and ears. This would also help to conceal her real hair color, if they had to stall Carter for more than a few days. It’s a decent plan, she thought, shivering. It just involves being a lot colder than I like.

  She spotted a bright blond head bobbing behind the front row of the Army, straining to see. “C’mere, Hannah.”

  Hannah stepped from behind the others shyly. As always, she wore the Army of Eden headband over her golden braid. She looked exactly like an angel. No one would ever suspect that the heart of a warrior beat in that tiny body, Fi thought, pulling her jacket around Hannah’s shoulders. “I
want you to keep this for me, ok?”

  “No, I can’t!” she protested.

  “I insist, Hannah. It’s my lucky jacket. It’s kept me safe. So I want you to promise me two things…”

  Hannah nodded, her bottom lip trembling.

  “First, I want you to promise me that you’ll wear this lucky jacket wherever you go.”

  Hannah’s giant blue eyes began to well with tears. “…Ok.”

  “And, I want you to promise me…promise me, that you’ll stay out of the battle. I know you promised me once, but I want to hear it again. This battle isn’t the one to start with, ok? Promise me?”

  Her tears spilled over. “I promise.”

  Fi zipped her up. “Good.”

  “Fi, we have something for you,” Marcus stepped forward. “For both of you girls, actually.” He gestured and the women behind him handed forward what looked like clothing. There were two dark vests with straps at the shoulders and waist, and one weird tube of fabric with panels sewn into it.

  “Those are bulletproof vests for you girls,” Marcus said. “From the SWAT raids. And the other is for your little one, Fi.”

  “What?” Fi examined the dark tube of fabric. “It’s a sling!” She felt the inside. It has been lined with fleece, but she could feel definite panels on the inside. “A…bulletproof sling?”

  Marcus grinned and nodded. “Everyone wanted to do something to help protect the little guy. We know you girls are pretty serious protection, but we had the idea and it seemed like a good one. It’s like insurance.”

  Fi’s heart squeezed. How much of a difference would it make having the safety of that sling around Luke? “Thank you, Marcus…and everyone. Thank you for this.”

  Asher slid beside her, his arm slipping around her waist. She leaned into his warmth. She knew that he was grateful as well, though nothing would truly ease his burden.

  “All right, everyone. Let’s give them some privacy,” Julius called.

  With whispered “Goodbyes!” and “Good lucks!” the Army melted away into the west. The only ones left were the Seeders.

  ----------- Asher ----------------

  Asher flinched as tiny needles of freezing rain hit his cheeks. It was midday, but you wouldn’t know it. The lowering clouds darkened the skies to nearly dusk and he resented it. Figurative darkness would have been enough for him today. From the corner of his eye he saw Sean and Sara wrapped around one another and speaking in soft voices, when they spoke at all. For a split second his heart ached for Sean. He’s the only person in the world who knows exactly how I feel right now.

  Luke whimpered and then snuffed. Almost exactly how I feel. Asher squeezed his eyes shut and focused. If he kept his breathing shallow, he could almost ignore her scent: the intermingled sweetness and salt. Also that strange hint of pine that she always seemed to carry.

  Once, just a few weeks after he’d met her, he’d even searched the pockets of her coat, sure that he would find bundles of fresh pine. He breathed out, a suppressed and strangled half-laugh. It was amazing, he thought, the power of a simple scent. The way the memories came in a rushing torrent…whether welcome or no.

  Now, as he stood with his forehead pressed to hers, his infant son slung between them, he wished the memories away. He wanted to be numb, be blank. He wanted to halt the shaking in his legs, and banish the tugging of his brow. Anything, he prayed, anything not to show his fear.

  He couldn’t decide which was the worst moment. Whether it was when the Army stopped its forward march, or when she changed into her “Marie” clothes, or when she took off the tokens of his love…her wedding ring and the lucky coin that had seen her safely to this point. His grandfather’s token of love and protection that had hung around his neck through many tournaments, steadying him. Even when she’d been a zombie staring at her pod wall while Luke wailed, that coin lying in the hollow of her throat had given him hope. But now she was stripped of her talismans. They weighed in his pocket, the densest point in the universe. I don’t want to leave you.

  “Hey,” she said.

  His eyes flew open and he stared into the warm pools that had kept him captivated since day one.

  She scrunched her nose, forcing levity. “You stole my line.”

  He’d said that out loud? He sighed. “So I did. But this time it’s my line.” He cupped her chin. As he met her cool lips with his, he felt her shudder. His mind split open and screamed at him. How could he allow this? How could she risk it? It was too much. Too much!!! Shut up! Shut up! He closed his eyes. “I’m the one who has to leave this time, remember, Fi?”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” She laid her head on his chest. “But you’re wrong.” He waited as she drummed her gloved fingertips in silence. Finally she patted his chest twice, like punctuation. “This is going to work.”

  This is going to work. That’s what he repeated — tried to repeat — in his mind as he and Sean walked through the knifing wind in silence to rejoin the Army. This is going to work. My wife is going to be fine. My son is going to be fine. This is going to work. Sean inhaled and coughed beside him. Asher saw him swipe at his eyes before he dropped his gaze. It had to work.

  You Have to Bleed

  ------------ Fi -------------

  “It’s time to go.”

  Fi’s heart leapt at Sara’s words. It was time. It was finally time. A shiver raced through her — the kind kids at school always swore was a ghost had passing through your body. She could believe it today. The thin barn jacket she now wore was useless against the icy wind, but she knew it was more than the miserable touch of winter that shook her. Mutely, she took Sara’s hand and they turned to the east. I’m coming, she thought, forcing her feet forward. I’m coming for you.

  They made their way toward the Truther settlement hand-in-hand. Though this had been planned to emphasize their weakness, she felt incredibly grateful for the touch. There was a shout from the shadows in the distance and she squeezed Sara’s hand. They’d been spotted.

  In minutes, they were surrounded by the largest pack of Lobos Fi had ever seen. There were at least twenty of them and all were armed, though few had guns. Most gripped clubs or knives. With her free hand, she fingered her skirt nervously, feeling for the pull-tab.

  “What’s this?” A large man with white blond hair and icy eyes stepped forward and Fi sucked in her breath. This had to be the one the colonists called “the Ghost.” He was enormous, his muscles making no sense in the depths of the food-poor winter. Unlike the others, he most definitely had a doozy of a gun. His AK-47 was pointed right at her head. She dropped her eyes.

  “M-my name’s Marie,” she whispered. It turned out to be pretty easy to act scared. Her legs were shaking. “And this is my little sister, Sara. We came to find the preacher.”

  “Hmph,” the man grunted. “Seems like you’re the little sister, girlie.”

  The men around them laughed, and the hair on the back of Fi’s neck stood up. Jesus, she knew these Lobos were supposed to be working for the Truthers, but how much control did Carter really have?

  The man narrowed his clear, nearly white eyes. “What do you know about Father?”

  Ugh. She nearly jumped at the term. Sean warned her that they called Carter “Father,” but hearing it was like being dipped in acid. “Nothing,” she said, “except that he’s kind.”

  “And he’s a man of faith,” Sara added, bowing her own head.

  Fi bit back a smile. As hard as it was for her to behave like an obedient little lamb, she knew it was darned near impossible for Sara. She was proud of her. “We’re all alone, my sister and I,” Fi said. Luke gurgled at just that moment, as if on cue. “And we need help. We come from people of faith, and we’ve been following the river ever since one of your kind directed us. Please. We won’t make it any longer on our own.”

  She clutched Luke and her eyes pricked with frightened tears. Her mind kept skipping like a stone across the waters of her experiences with Lobos: Asher, covered in
blood with a half-dead Gary in his arms, Sara, bound and helpless as a Lobo slashed her cheek, and herself, pregnant and desperate while a machete hung above her head. She was shaking, gritting her teeth against the tremors so they wouldn’t chatter. It was on her now. No dream. No plan. She was scared shitless.

  Knowing her tears would only help her, she looked up and met the Ghost’s gaze. Please pity me, she prayed. Please. Pity us. We’re defenseless.

  Though his expression didn’t soften, he gestured and the Lobos lowered their weapons. “I guess you look harmless enough. Follow me.”

  Fi exhaled, her head dropping. She sucked air, pushing back the desire to sit down on the spot. Sara squeezed her hand and Fi looked up to find her friend smiling. Fi took a deep breath and squeezed back. Sara was right. Phase One was complete. The Lost Lambs were deployed. She lowered her head again to cover her own smile and followed. I’m coming for you.

  Ten minutes later she stood in a small wooden cabin, mere feet from the object of her bubbling rage. Dr. Carter Lawson’s appearance came as a shock. She’d been expecting a younger, more vital man, but then, he fit his false role to perfection. His large blue eyes, deeply lined face, and long white hair and beard were straight-up Sistine-Chapel-Old-World-God stuff. Touché, she thought, warming to the challenge.

  No matter. He might be God the Father, but she was Mary. She straightened up. “I don’t know what happened to him, sir,” she said, in answer to the question of Luke’s missing father. Sara rubbed her arm, as if to comfort her, just like they’d rehearsed. It was flawless.

  Carter’s eyes softened and he sat beside her and reached for her hand. For a second she flashed back to second grade, when Jonny Rollins, the class’s most notorious nose-picker, had reached for her hand. She’d nearly puked. Her gorge rose in her throat and she swallowed hard.

  “It’s hard for her to tell it, sir,” Sara jumped in. “Simon went out to get us supplies and we waited and waited, but…”