Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy Book 3)

by Rachel Fisher

  “When I woke up and realized you were gone, I caught up quick. I’m sure he didn’t see you toss the bottle. He was just messing with you, Fi. Trying to scare you. The only reason I worry about him is because he’s a sicko.”

  “Thank God.” Fi exhaled hard. “Look, I’m sorry, Sara. I shouldn’t have done it alone, but I just…something’s wrong with me. I know I shouldn’t take risks, especially with Luke. I feel like a crazy person sometimes. I mean, I’m like, ‘Why are you doing this, Fi?’”

  “Why?” Sara echoed, squeezing her shoulders. “Because you are crazy, Fi. And you’re good.” She grabbed a blanket from the floor and drew it around the two of them. “You’re crazy good, Fi. That’s why.”

  Fi shook her head. “But I can’t risk my baby this way. You’re right. Asher’s right. This is insane.”

  “Yes, it would be normally.” Sara’s voice grew thick. “But the problem is that these assholes have your other baby in a cage.”

  They settled into their blankets, shifting to offer each other the most comfortable position without words. They didn’t need words anymore. Sara’s every shift and cough meant something to Fi by now. Just like it had been with Kiara those two long summers in the wilds.

  She’d spooned her little sister even when she herself had lain awake for hours, cradling her and shifting with her, like birds in formation, whenever she’d roll over or fret. Her heart ached at the thought of having Kiara back in her arms, sleepy and warm. She yawned as she focused on her sister, holding her spirit close, and slipped into sleep.

  Hours later Fi awoke to Sara shaking her gently. “Fi, wake up. I’ve got it.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. Sara hovered over her in the dim dawn light. “Uuufff, Sar. Couldn’t we have slept a little more?”

  “You’ll be as awake as humanly possible when I tell you my idea.”

  “Idea for what?”

  “For how to keep in touch with the others. And for you to see Kiara.”

  Fi sat up like a shot. “What? Tell me!”

  “Well, while you were sleeping off last night’s craziness, I couldn’t sleep. I knew we couldn’t keep risking the message in a bottle method, and I knew there had to be some way we could get to the colonists.” Sara’s voice grew excited. “I think it may actually be perfect.”

  “What, Sara? What? Tell me!”

  “Ministry, Fi. We can say we want to minister to the colonists. Carter’s always saying he will let them stay if they convert, right? But no one is allowed in to actually encourage that.”

  Wow. Fi thought about it through her sleepy haze. That’s…a good idea. “But, Sara, you said it yourself. He’s not letting anyone in there. Why would he let us?”

  “Because we’re the colony’s most popular Truthers, and it will look bad if he doesn’t. He’s going to be told that we’ve done a lot of ministry before.” She pretended to blow on her nails and brushed them on her shirt.

  “What do you mean it will look bad, Sara? To whom? Told by whom?”

  Sara grinned. “Sorry that I jumped ahead on this plan without your go-ahead, but I spent breakfast chatting with one very enthusiastic supporter of the idea.”

  Fi frowned and then it dawned on her. Damn. This was a good idea. “Nona.”

  “Bingo!” Sara laughed, pleased with herself. “She’s a true believer. If she goes to Carter and insists that he let us minister, he’ll have to do it. We can sneak them supplies and we can send messages back and forth through Darryl. Believe me, it’s not hard to sneak into and out of the prison, if they aren’t looking for you. I’ve done it.”

  Fi’s mind drifted as Sara prattled on happily. Luke stirred and she lifted him to her. Pressing her lips to his neck, she smiled. You’re finally going to meet your big sister.

  Falling Into Place

  ----------- Asher -----------

  “I think I see something!” Sean’s voice was excited. “Yes! Do you see that green spot?”

  Asher squinted against the glare of the early winter morning. They’d been canvassing the riverbanks at dawn for a week, waiting for word from the girls. So far there had been nothing and he felt like he was losing his mind. Sean kept telling him that they would fire their emergency flare if needed, but that did nothing to quell the sickness in Asher’s gut. He followed Sean’s lead as they made their way over the icy boulders and branches lining the riverbank and then he stopped.

  Suddenly Sean leapt forward, swallowing his shout of joy. They rushed as quietly as they could toward the neon plastic bottle lodged against the shore. Sean grabbed it and did a silent, awkward jig when he saw the piece of paper curled inside. They scrambled up the bank and back into the cover of the woods.

  “Open it, open it, Sean!” Asher was breathless. They were alive! They’d sent the message, just as they’d planned. He couldn’t think. Lightheaded, he sank onto the nearest boulder.

  Sean ripped off his gloves and unrolled the paper. “We are in and we’re fine. They’ve accepted us and shown us around the settlement. Our notes are below. So far, we don’t have any plan for stalling Carter, but we’re working on it.” As Sean went on, his voice slowed and trailed off. “I’m sorry to say that in order to be accepted, Sara offered herself at our Truther ‘baptism.’”

  Asher frowned. “What, Sean? What does that mean?”

  Sean looked up, his eyes burning. “It means they cut her, Asher. They cut her hand like them.”

  Asher’s stomach turned. Sara was strong, he knew. But she was also uniquely vulnerable to the Truthers since her kidnapping...since the first time they’d cut her. It must have been torture to let them hurt her. Judging by the general greenness of Sean’s skin, the thought had also occurred to him. “I’m sorry, Sean. But Sara’s tough. You know she chose it.”

  He nodded, flushing. “I know. Still makes me sick, though.”

  “You and me both. But this isn’t going to be pretty, this war. All of us are risking everything.”

  “I know,” Sean exhaled. “Anyway, the girls are good. They have a whole bunch of notes for us at the bottom. Seems like our worst news is that there are at least a hundred Lobo “Angels.” But then, we pretty much knew that.”

  “Awesome. I guess no worse news counts as good news?”

  “Yeah. I guess it has to.”

  “But they’re alive, Sean.” It was hard not draw out the word alive. Asher’s mouth clung to it, unwilling to give it up, to have it cease. “They’re succeeding at this undercover stuff.”

  Sean folded the paper and tucked it into his jacket. “Yup. Now let’s hope the rest of us are as good as they are.”

  ---------- Fi ----------

  “Absolutely not, Nona!” Carter roared, not even attempting to sound like his normally mellifluous self. Fi flinched. “And what’s worse,” he continued, “is that you know better! You shouldn’t have brought these two here until you’d discussed it with me first.”

  “So you could say ‘No’ more easily, Father?” Nona retorted.

  Wow, Fi thought, startling. She’d nearly shouted. Nona never raised her voice. Sara and Fi’s heads swiveled as the debate grew more heated.

  “Nona, it’s not safe. We can’t send these girls in to those…those, LIARS!”

  “Well, then send someone in for God’s sakes, Father! Please, before their time runs out!”

  Sara grabbed Fi’s hand and squeezed it. This was the sticking point, Fi knew. If Carter was going to play it off like he’d given people a chance to convert, he couldn’t say no. Not if he was going to turn women and children out to die. He’d lose half his following.

  Nona was arguing this salient point when Carter raised his hands and bellowed in frustration. He whirled to face the girls. “So…Nona says you two have done a lot of ministry in the past.”

  “Yes, Father,” Fi said. “We used to travel to different cities with our family and minister to those who would listen.”

  “And we went on missions every summer,” Sara added. “Mostly in Central Am
erica. Dios es amor.” She dropped her head and signed the cross.

  Good Lord, Fi thought. She’s throwing in Spanish now? José and Mayra would be proud.

  “Father,” Nona said, softening, “they have the Angels for protection. And besides, the hostiles are all separated from the rest.”

  “Hostiles?” Sara’s voice rose.

  Nona grimaced. “I know Father has told you something of this group, these scientists who want us to make the same mistakes that led to the Famine. Most of them are just misguided. But a few…”

  “…a few are determined to do more than just lead sinful lives, as if that weren’t enough,” Carter interjected. “A few were determined to convert Truthers to their way of thinking. By force, if necessary. Those are the ones we call the hostiles.”

  “Convert the Truthers?” Fi did her best to feign shock. “To what? Science? But that’s just crazy.”

  “Well you don’t have to worry about them, Marie,” Nona assured her. “They’re secured elsewhere.”

  “So why don’t you just banish the hostiles to the Wasteland right now?” Sara asked.

  Fi dropped her hand in shock. Why would she suggest that?

  “We’re not animals, Sara,” Carter said, with disgust. “Some of them have family members in Camp Truth. We’ll turn them out together at the end of the initiation time if no one in the family converts.”

  Fi ignored the clench of her stomach and seized the opportunity. “Father, you can count on us. We’ll help to separate the future Truthers from the Liars, if you just give us a chance.”

  Carter’s face twisted, his eyes darting between the women. …Like a cornered animal, Fi thought. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. And she was Nagaina, the head of the snake. “Please, Father,” she added, striking again.

  “Please,” Nona echoed. “Carter, it’s the right thing to do.”

  “All right!” he shouted, flushing. “All right. They can try it. They start tomorrow. I’ll make the arrangements with Silas.”

  Gotcha! Fi thought, with barely suppressed glee. If only real poison could be working its way into his veins. No matter, it was getting closer every day. And, she was going to see Kiara! Finally, the object of her desire, so close at hand, was to be hers.

  I’m coming for you, she thought. I’m coming for you, baby girl.

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

  The next morning Fi tried not to burst into a full sprint as they made their way around the lake toward the prison camp. Despite the Lobos flanking them, nothing could dampen her excitement. At least, she’d thought nothing could. When they drew closer to the dreary little site, she shifted from biting back smiles to fighting back tears.

  Small huts sat clustered like animals huddled against the breeze, the shredded plastic sheeting covering the windows fluttering. Hillocks of muddy snow crested in waves against their walls, giving the impression of a sad flotilla, adrift in a gale. The entire camp was girded and staked by six-foot barbed wire fence and twin watchtowers.

  For a moment she was struck by the starkness of the contrast between Eden and Camp Truth: light and dark, right and wrong, garden and dungeon. All this time she’d been worried about the in-betweens, the greys. But sometimes things weren’t grey at all.

  Sometimes things were as clear and pointed and painful as the moment you first feel love. Real, true, love. Knowing that love is not the things that are, but the things that are done: homemade soup for a fever, saving the last bite of dessert, picking flowers for no reason at all, massaging tired shoulders. Each tiny act buoying each other, saving each other, every day, over and over again.

  That’s why it’s cutting, that moment of clarity, that kind of love, she thought. Because love is not grey. It’s sharp. Definite. Right.

  “Here you go ladies,” one Lobo said, as he swung open the outer gate. “Be careful.”

  She stepped inside, her head high. Mired in the mud like a tired herd, the residents of Camp Truth watched in silence as Sara and Fi stepped inside. The Lobos stayed outside, their weapons drawn. Fi prayed that the colonists would have the good sense to pretend their silence was due to something besides recognition.

  Their second, and final, message in a bottle had been to prepare the colonists for this. Sara had been the one to take it this time, but they couldn’t know if the message had been received.

  “What’s this?” Lucy asked loudly, striding forward from the steps of her cabin. Two girls’ heads poked out behind her and Fi choked. So close…

  “We’re here to provide ministry, ma’am,” Fi said, her voice strangling as Kiara’s eyes bored into her over Lucy’s shoulder. She’s real! She’s right THERE!!

  For her part, Lucy’s eyes kept wandering to Luke, tucked into his sling. “Ministry, huh?” she declared. She pointed at the Lobos at the gate and in the watchtowers. “’Bout time you all gave us a chance. C’mon girls, you can come to my cabin first.” She held out her hand and Fi took it.

  “More special treatment for you two, huh?” A voice called down from the east tower. Fi looked up into the pug face of the Lobo called Mouth. “Wonder what you both did to make the Father like you soooooooooooo much?”

  Fi ignored him as they made their way to Lucy’s cabin. It was enough of a struggle to keep her composure while every molecule in her body was screaming for her to run to Kiara and snatch her up. “How are you all?” she said, forcing herself to focus on the other colonists. “Are you staying warm enough?”

  Clearly, they’d gotten the message. All of them acted as if they’d never seen them before, even Kiara, whose face twisted with the strain. The moment the door to Lucy’s cabin closed behind them, Fi fell to her knees and crushed Kiara to her, nearly strangling Luke. “Kiara! My baby girl! Oh, my baby.”

  Her little sister shuddered and shook in her arms, but she was real. It wasn’t a dream. Kiara was alive and breathing… Well, almost not breathing Fi was squeezing so hard. She tried to relax her grip, but Kiara snatched her tighter, pressing her face into Fi’s shoulder to cover her sobs.

  “I thought I’d never see you again, Fi,” she gasped, hiccupping. “I thought I’d be all alone.”

  Fi’s heart went black as she sank back onto her heels, pulling Kiara with her. Alone. Even with hundreds of people around her, even with the Skillmans. She would have been alone. Not just an orphan, a little girl lost. She pressed Kiara’s head to her chest, kissing her hair again and again. She’d never imagined Kiara feeling that way, never thought what nightmares may have been ripping her apart night after night.

  Lucy’s hand touched Fi’s head gently. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said, pressing her finger to her lips.

  Fi took a deep, shuddering breath, nodding. “Shhhh,” she murmured to her sister, rocking her. “It’s ok, baby girl. I’m here. We’re here for you.” Kiara’s sobs subsided and she relaxed in Fi’s arms, settling into her like she had as a baby, despite being nearly ten now.

  A warmth began to fill Fi as they held each other. She closed her eyes and concentrated on it, drawing it in like a plant starving for sunlight. It started in her chest and worked its way out until her whole body was alight. “Do you feel that, Ki?” she murmured, kissing her sister’s cheek. “Papa’s here too.”

  In another world, Fi would have had time to catch her family up on everything. They would have oooohed and aaaaahed over Luke and expressed congratulations and best wishes. Instead, the clock was ticking, literally, and they had to focus on the siege. Fi did her best to swallow her tears, though she couldn’t take her eyes off Kiara for a second.

  Lucy explained what the colonists knew. “Darryl’s been able to catch us up on the Army’s plans so far,” she said.

  Fi’s eyes flicked to the man seated in the corner, a grim look etched across his normally inquisitive face. Her chest tightened. Darryl had changed. He was dressed in black from head to toe and had grown a heavy beard. His head lolled against the wall and he picked at his fingernails with a knif
e. His knife, apparently, she thought, noting the sheath at his belt.

  From what Lucy said, Darryl had been going back and forth between Camp Truth and the Army encampment across the river fairly regularly, sneaking the colonists food and blankets and bringing news. It heartened Fi to hear that Sara had been right. Camp Truth’s “guards” were lazy. Hopefully the rest of them are equally “dedicated.”

  “Here, Darryl,” Fi reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out folded papers. “Here are the maps we drew, the timing of the Angels’ shift changes, and a complete work-up of Carter’s schedule.”

  Darryl scanned the notes. “This is good. So you’re sure that this map is complete?”

  “We’ve been all over the settlement,” Sara said. “I can’t imagine what we would’ve missed.”

  “What’s this?” He pointed. “You marked it ‘hostiles.’”

  Fi grimaced. Of course he’d hone in on that. Sara had told her how distressed Darryl had been about giving up names, especially Georgina’s…though from what Sara said, Carter hadn’t even needed him to actually name them. Obviously Darryl had turned into this “Rambo” version of himself as penance. She didn’t want to have to answer him, but there was no way around it. “We used their term. It is what you think it is.”

  He nodded, but to her surprise, he didn’t falter. “They’re keeping them in the bathrooms then?”

  “Yes, but they’re alive Darryl. That’s the important thing. Carter says he’s going to release them when he does everyone else.”

  “Visiting hours are up, girls.” A creepy sing-song drifted down from the watchtower. Mouth.

  “Lucy,” Fi said, “they’re giving us an hour each day with you. I know Darryl can only come when it’s dark enough, but that should be enough contact to get us through.” Her words came faster as she saw their two escorts open the gate and enter. “I promise you all,” she added, her heart squeezing, “we’re going to get you out of here.”

  She grabbed Kiara in a desperate embrace. With each crunch of the Lobos’ feet in the yard, her mind urged, “Let go! Let go!” but it was like the message was shorting somewhere in her spine, before it got to her arms. They wouldn’t unlock. Kiara grunted and squirmed, peeling away from her grasp and then stepping back, her little jaw set. Fi sucked in, burned by the dark flash in her sister’s eyes. Toughen up, it said. Be Fi.