Eden Rising (Eden Rising Trilogy Book 1)

by Andrew Cunningham

  “I think so. I’m sorry.”

  Caitlyn went silent at that point.

  The next three days passed uneventfully. Ben had to give the girls credit, they didn’t whine or ask to take many breaks. It was actually a bit spooky, he thought. Megan and Brooke rarely said anything, and continued to stare as they walked. Caitlyn would open up for short periods at a time, then join the other girls in their silence. They still hadn’t replaced their sleeping bag, so they gave the one they had to the girls to share. They were able to make it to a shelter each night, and on the third night they decided to set up the tent in the shelter for some extra warmth, and privacy from the girls. While they didn’t take turns keeping watch, they did notice that they were each sleeping much lighter than before.

  On the fourth day, black clouds once again appeared on the horizon. They weren’t in the vicinity of any shelters, so they hurriedly set up their tent. Ben and Lila put the girls in, as well as their own backpacks to keep dry. Meanwhile, they sat under a tree, huddled together under a couple of rain ponchos. As with the other storms, it was violent. The lightning was dangerous, and the rain soaking. The thunder was so loud they couldn’t even talk to each other.

  When the storm had subsided somewhat, Ben said, “You know, when it gets colder, these might be blizzards.”

  “It’s still the end of September … I think,” replied Lila. “So I imagine we still have a couple of months. We should be able to get to the warmer weather by then. What do you think is causing these?”

  “I was thinking about that as we were sitting here. Remember Phil’s theory about the EMP?” Lila nodded. “Let’s just say he was right. If it was as powerful as he described, that means a massive nuclear weapon was exploded in the atmosphere. Couldn’t that change the weather patterns?”

  “I suppose,” said Lila. “But if so, is this the extent of it, or just the beginning?”

  And that was a good question. We had witnessed the breakdown of electronics, the end of humanity, the change in animal behavior, and now what? Was it responsible for this too? Was it hastening an already changing climate? What more were we going to have to deal with? I never once envied those who had died, but I did wonder if our life was eventually going to get easier, or whether this was what we could expect until we, ourselves, joined the others.

  On the fifth day with the girls, they reached the Hudson River. Ben and Lila hugged and held onto each other as they looked out across the river at Bear Mountain on the other side. It wasn’t that they had reached a particular destination, but that it was a milestone of sorts. Crossing that river meant that they were finally out of New England.

  According to Ben’s map, once they crossed the river, the trail wound past Hessian Lake. They thought that would be a good place to camp for the night. As they reached the other side of the bridge, they came across a handmade sign—painted on plywood—that read, “Survivor camp ahead—at Hessian Lake.”

  “Omigod,” said Lila. “Real live people?”

  They had fallen behind the girls.

  “I don’t know about you,” said Ben quietly, “but I have no interest in joining another group of survivors. But maybe someone there will take the girls.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” replied Lila.

  If this were a movie, a strong bond would have formed between us and the girls. Leaving them with someone else would have resulted in tears and painful goodbyes. The truth is, we felt no closer to them at that moment than we did the night we saved them from the dogs. Megan and Brooke had spent the last five days in space. They couldn’t have said more than a few dozen words between them. Caitlyn had been more communicative, but there was no closeness, and we never expected any. They had gone through a horrific experience. It might be months before they started communicating—maybe never. If there were some other kids their age in the camp, and/or a nurturing adult, there might be some hope for them.

  There were a couple more signs, and then they heard the group before they actually saw them. They rounded a bend and there, spread out along the edge of the lake, were what looked to be close to a hundred tents of all sizes.

  “Wow,” said Ben. “There must be two or three hundred people here.”

  They walked down the main path between the tents. Many people stopped what they were doing to take a look at them. It was obvious they were newcomers.

  Here it was, our first real contact with what was left of society. I honestly don't know what we were expecting, but what we found filled us with an overwhelming sadness. Individually, their faces reflected the utter sorrow they had encountered since that awful day. But it was the collective group that had the strongest effect on us. As one, they had no idea what was to come next. Was there even a next? It was obvious that they saw no future, and without a future, how could you live in the present? How many of them wished that they had died with their friends and family? And yet, among them, we saw isolated faces of determination. If there was to be any hope at all, it would come from those few souls who refused to give up.

  They approached an area of increased activity around a crudely made plywood building.

  “Hey there.” A tall, distinguished-looking man came out of the hut and stuck his hand out. “Welcome to the survivor camp. We haven’t given it a real name yet. That’s under debate. I’m Paul Flynn, one of the board members.”

  “I’m sorry?” asked Ben.

  “We’re trying to make this a safe haven for people, so we established a five-member board to help govern the camp. It’s getting bigger everyday, so we need to have rules.” He looked at their weapons. “Um, the first rule is that residents have to turn in their weapons for safe-keeping.” He laughed. “We sure can’t have people going around accidently shooting each other.” He turned serious. “Or themselves. Suicide is a real problem.”

  “That’s okay,” said Lila. “We’re actually just passing through.” She had sat the three girls under a tree, out of earshot. “We came across these girls and were wondering if there was anyone here who could take them. We think they would be better off here than with us.”

  “Sure, we can do that. We have a group of children without parents that we care for here. I’m sure we can add them. Sally,” he called to a girl not much older than Ben. “Could you go get Mrs. Davenport?”

  When Sally walked off, he said, “Come. Sit. Have some dinner. He ladled some beef stew out of a large pot into bowls and handed them to Ben, Lila, and the girls. Caitlyn, Megan, and Brooke went back under the tree to eat.

  “So where are you from?” asked Paul.

  Ben and Lila told him their story, and that of the girls.

  “Most of the people here are from the city. A lot of them survived because they were in subway cars that happened to be in protected places. In many cases, the people in one car survived, when everyone else on the train died. Right spot, right time. Who can explain it? We’re camped out here until the towns become better suited to habitation, then we’ll move before winter. We still haven’t decided whether to go across the river to Peekskill, or upriver to West Point.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the winter?” asked Lila.

  “It’s a concern, but there’s plenty of wood out there and most houses have fireplaces—some have woodstoves. We figure if our ancestors could do it, so can we.”

  “Hey Flynn. You gonna make them give up their guns?”

  Ben and Lila turned to see three guys in their early twenties, dressed in Army fatigues and boots. The one who had spoken had the look of a body-builder; the second was tall and skinny, with a long scar on his cheek; and the third was an obvious druggie—scrawny, with unhealthy, almost yellowish skin. They definitely weren’t military.

  Ben noticed that Paul was suddenly uncomfortable.

  “No, Tank,” Paul replied. “They’re just passing through. They’re not staying.”

  “Too bad,” said the one with the scar. “I’d like to have her around,” pointing to Lila. “I bet you and me could have some fun.�
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  “Ah, she’s not your type, Slash,” said Tank. “I bet she likes ‘em with muscles.” He rolled back his sleeve and made a huge muscle with his heavily tattooed bicep. He pointed to Ben and said to Slash, “You can have that girl.”

  The three of them laughed. Ben felt himself flush. Lila grabbed his hand, as if to say, “Just don’t do anything.”

  The problem was, I wasn’t going to do anything. Tank and his friends scared the crap out of me. They were saying things to Lila that no boyfriend should put up with. But what was I going to do? It was three mean guys against one wimpy teenager. I had done some growing on this trip, but not that much. I thought of the gun on my hip. I couldn’t very well shoot them. They hadn’t really done anything yet. That wasn’t the kind of person I was. Besides, I’d most likely miss.

  “C’mon, Tank,” said Paul. “Just move on, okay?

  They laughed, and as they started away, Tank looked at Lila, pointed to her, made an obscene gesture, and winked.

  “Oh, they’re trouble,” said Paul, after the three had walked away. “The board would love to expel them from the camp, but frankly, they scare us. Nobody wants to be the one to tell them.” He changed the subject. “Aren’t you two a little young to be making a journey by yourselves? I think you’d be better off staying with us. It doesn’t look like much yet, but we’re planning big things. We want people to feel comfortable here. And when we move to West Point or Peekskill, we hope to establish a real town—get schools started, churches, get people into businesses again—it won’t be exactly like our old life, but it might come close.”

  Ben glanced at Lila and could see the look. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

  “Well thank you for the offer,” said Ben, “but we have our own plans.”

  “Will you at least spend the night. It’ll be dark in a few hours.”

  “I think if we can get the girls taken care of, we’ll probably just head out,” answered Lila. “But thank you.”

  Paul seemed disappointed, but accepted their decision.

  “Here comes Mrs. Davenport now.”

  She was a woman in her thirties. Ben thought she had probably once been a soccer mom, but the past few weeks had taken their toll. She looked fairly bedraggled. Her once permed hair was now hanging limply, and her designer clothes were now dirty and torn. However, it was obvious that she was trying her best to cope.

  After a few minutes’ discussion, she said she would be happy to take care of the girls. Ben and Lila approached the three girls and tried to explain that they would be happier there, but got no response in return, not even from Caitlyn, so no hugs were called for. They said their goodbyes to Paul and wished him well, and were on their way.

  “I couldn’t wait to leave,” said Lila.

  “Yeah, when he started talking about making it close to what it used to be, he lost me,” replied Ben.

  About a half an hour out of the camp, Ben stopped and listened. “Do you hear that?”

  “Gunfire?”

  “Automatic weapons. That’s not somebody hunting,” said Ben.

  “Do you think we should go back?” asked Lila. “Maybe it’s coming from the camp.”

  “We could, but …”

  “I know. I agree,” said Lila. “We can’t fight other people’s battles. I just hope whatever is happening isn’t too awful.”

  They heard a few more bursts of gunfire, then silence.

  They picked up their pace to put as much distance between them and the camp as possible.

  When it started to get dark, they set up their tent next to a shelter. They wanted the intimacy the tent provided, but the shelter nearby in case the weather took another turn for the worse.

  They were exhausted, and since they had eaten Paul’s stew, they didn’t need to make any dinner. They covered themselves with the sleeping bag they salvaged from the girls, and slept in their clothes for extra warmth. They knew that soon they were going to have to find a town to get a couple more sleeping bags.

  They were asleep within minutes.

  *****

  Ben was awakened violently at dawn by hands yanking him out of the tent by his ankles. Lila screamed as she too was pulled from the tent.

  “Hey honey,” said Tank, looking at down at a terrified Lila. “I’ve been dreaming about you.”

  We couldn’t have imagined a worse nightmare.

  Chapter 9

  Tank grabbed Lila and carried her over to the shelter, violating her body with his hands as he went.

  “No! Please no!! Just let us go,” cried Lila.

  “The way you came on to me at the camp?” asked Tank. “Hell no. I could tell you really wanted it from a man, not some kid playing G.I. Joe.” He turned to Ben. “You think parading around with those fucking guns makes you a man? I’ll show you what makes a man. Slash and Coke are gonna get some of the action too. But if you’re really good, we’ll let you watch us have fun with your girlfriend for a few hours before we kill you.”

  “You shoulda stayed at the camp,” piped in Slash. “Maybe with all those guns, they woulda elected you to the Board.”

  “Yeah,” said Tank, still holding the struggling Lila. “All five Board positions suddenly opened up last night.”

  “Like they could tell us to shove off,” said Slash. “Who did they think they were?”

  The one they called Coke got behind Ben and put a choke hold on him with the crook of his arm. With his other hand, he held a gun to Ben’s head. Slash and Tank laid Lila across a picnic table in the shelter, and Slash held her down by her shoulders. Lila was kicking and screaming and calling out Ben’s name. Tank ripped her shirt off and undid her jeans and pulled them off along with her panties. He held down her legs with one hand, as he undid his own pants with the other, revealing a large bulge in his underwear. Coke, meanwhile, was watching the entire scene with anticipation on his face, a little drool at the corners of his mouth. The gun was still at Ben’s head. Lila stopped screaming.

  I think it was her eyes that changed me forever. Lying there, splayed across the table completely naked, being held down at the shoulders by Slash and at the legs by Tank, she turned to me with a tear running down the side of her head, and with an expression of resignation in her eyes that said "I'm done. How much worse could my life get?" Then I snapped. Oh God, did I snap.

  Ben stomped down hard on Coke’s instep. Coke cried out in surprise. At the same time, Ben grabbed hold of the gun, while reaching for Coke’s pinkie finger. He yanked back on the finger until he heard a loud crack. Coke screamed in pain.

  Coke’s attention on the proceedings was the only thing that had saved Ben. It gave him that extra second to do the two simplest things he could remember from karate class. He then twisted the gun away from the still screaming Coke, held it point blank in Coke’s face, and pulled the trigger. The noise inside the shelter was deafening. Coke’s head exploded and blood and pieces of his brain sprayed the walls.

  Ben turned his attention to Slash, who had let go of Lila and was reaching for a gun. Lila, meanwhile, rolled off the table onto the floor of the shelter. He aimed at Slash’s midsection and pulled the trigger. His aim was off, and the bullet caught Slash in the throat, almost severing his head from his body. Ben spun and looked at Tank, who was trying to pull up his pants to get to his holster. Again he shot at the midsection and this time hit what he was aiming for. Tank went down with a grunt.

  Ben ran to the tent to get the sleeping bag. He returned with it and placed it over Lila, who was curled up in a corner. He heard a noise and saw Tank crawling for the shelter opening. The rage within Ben was all-consuming. He walked over to Tank and viciously kicked him in the face. Tank flopped over on his back, his nose flattened and several teeth stuck by blood to his face. Ben couldn’t even speak. He pointed the gun at Tank’s crotch. Tank’s eyes widened in fear. Ben pulled the trigger and Tank opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  Not finished yet, Ben destroyed both kneecaps with s
hots. He pointed his gun at Tank’s elbow and was about to shoot when he heard Lila scream his name. “Ben, please stop!” She was sobbing. “Oh, please stop! Please…” Her voice trailed off. She sat there with her face in her hands, shaking uncontrollably.

  Ben looked at Tank, who had lost consciousness, then looked down at the gun in his hand, and dropped it to the floor. He was covered in blood, mostly from Coke’s head. Smoke hung heavily in the shelter, his ears were ringing, and the smell of gunpowder was so pungent it burned his nose.

  He stepped over to Lila and sat down beside her. And then he began to cry. They held each other for an eternity. Finally, Lila rose and picked up her pants and the remnants of her shirt and put them on. She came over to Ben and pulled him up. They walked over to the tent and retrieved their boots, backpacks, and their weapons, all without a word. They left the tent where it was, the sleeping bag in the shelter, and walked back to the trail. As they were about to embark, a group of men with rifles came up the trail at a run.

  “Hey, stop!” yelled one of the men. They approached Ben and Lila, who had turned and looked at the group sightlessly. The ringing in their ears was still intense from the explosions of the guns in the enclosed space. They could hear the men, but everything was muffled.

  Looking at Ben’s blood-covered body, one of the men said, “Shit, what happened to you?”

  Getting no response, he said, “You’re the two who were in camp talking to Paul yesterday, right? We’re looking for Tank, Slash, and Coke. Have you seen them? They killed Paul and the other members of the Board last night.”

  Ben pointed in the direction of the shelter, and he and Lila turned and continued on their way.