Eden Rising (Eden Rising Trilogy Book 1)

by Andrew Cunningham

  As they walked, they heard, “Holy mother of God!” behind them.

  I honestly don’t remember much of that day or the next. We walked and just kept walking. I don’t know if we said two words to each other. I didn’t know who had been scarred worse from the experience. We got off the trail at some point … at some town … and wandered the streets until we found a sporting goods store. We picked out a tent, some towels, and a couple of new sleeping bags. There were probably other things we should have looked for, but we were in no shape to think clearly. We got back on the trail and headed south.

  Toward dusk the day after the shooting, they came upon a lake. It was an idyllic spot nestled in the green hills. They both knew they had found their healing place. They chose a location far from the trail, on a sandy bank. Without a word, they set down their packs and took off their boots and holsters and emptied their pockets. Lila dug in her pack for a bar of soap, and they walked into the water fully clothed. They spent the better part of an hour taking off each piece of clothing and washing it thoroughly. Then they washed themselves, then each other, then themselves again. Finally, when they felt that they had washed off the memories of the day before, Ben threw the soap onto the grass, and they turned to each other and hugged and kissed and cried. They walked out of the water and dried themselves, then sat wrapped in their towels watching the sun go down.

  They finally talked that night, and it was if the floodgates had opened. They didn’t fall asleep until almost dawn. They talked about the experience, but also about their childhood, their future, and most of all, their love for each other.

  “I know that I was nearly raped,” said Lila at one point, “and if that had happened even a few weeks ago, I would have spent years in therapy. But I’m okay. I don’t know why, but I’m okay. Maybe it will hit me later. I don’t know, but I think it has more to do with being in survival mode. It’s not the world it used to be, and I’m not the person I used to be.”

  “Your strength has kept me alive,” said Ben simply.

  “And your actions the other morning kept both of us alive.”

  “In some ways it was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but the hardest thing I’m ever going to have to live with,” said Ben. “I don’t care that it was three scumbags who more than deserved to die. It was the fact that I pointed a gun at someone and pulled the trigger. I’ll probably have nightmares of that for the rest of my life.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Lila. “I’ve watched you gain massive strength since that day in the freezer. If you were the person then that you are now, Richie never would have called you a dumb schmuck. He wouldn’t have even been able to look you in the eye. There’s a confidence in your eyes … in your whole being. There will come a time when you’ll remember back to this and just know that you did what was necessary.”

  They finally slept, waking up in the early afternoon. Setting up their camp with the expectation that they’d be there more than a couple of days, they cleaned out their backpacks and hung clothes on tree branches to air them out. They dug a fire pit in the sand and gathered wood. No longer did they feel the need to hide their presence. While they had no desire to see anyone, they refused to be scared. They were going to live life on their own terms.

  They were running low on water, so Lila decided to take a chance and start boiling lake water to drink. They didn’t know how polluted it was—it looked clean enough—and they took time to walk some of the shoreline to make sure there weren’t any bodies contaminating the water. They ran across a canoe and paddled it back to their camp.

  Ben decided to try his hand at fishing. They were sick of freeze-dried and canned food. He took Phil’s advice and dug for worms, attached one to a hook, and cast it out into the lake and let it sit. He caught something almost immediately. He had no idea what it was, but it looked big enough to eat. A half an hour later he caught a second. Altogether, he came away with four fish. Lila had found a flat log that they could use to filet the fish, and they decided to cook them over the open fire using skewers they fashioned out of long slivers of wood.

  The fish was a welcome relief to their palates. They ate just the fish—no canned food to go with it—and at the end felt like they had accomplished something significant. They had provided for themselves. They knew that a real sportsman would laugh at their accomplishment, but for two former suburban teens, it was life-changing. The next step would be hunting game.

  They spent a week healing. They slept a lot, fished a lot—Ben experimented with lures and became quite successful—and took the canoe out to the middle of the lake and just let it sit there as they soaked in the sun. They talked, made love, and swam in the chilly water. They could have stayed indefinitely, but after a week of unusually warm weather, they could again feel the signs of winter approaching. They also needed to stock up on all sorts of supplies.

  They had three violent storms during the week, but were almost getting used to them. However, they couldn’t shake the feeling that the storms were only the beginning of something more dangerous.

  They had to travel several miles off the trail to find the next town. They located a drugstore and stocked up more thoroughly on first aid supplies. They had each gained a lot of muscle weight and found they could carry much heavier packs. Lila picked up a supply of tampons and other female items, and Ben took that opportunity to strip the store of all of its condoms. He had run out the last day by the lake—definitely a sign that it was time to go. Lila also decided to find a couple of paperback novels.

  “Maybe it’s time to see if I can read a novel without it being too nostalgic,” she explained. “What I’m really afraid of is that it won’t have any meaning to me anymore. Can I read a novel and actually enjoy it?” As she said that, she changed her mind and decided that she wasn’t ready to read one. However, at a bookstore nearby, they did find three valuable books: a practical guide to first aid, a book on deer hunting, and another on small game hunting.

  Then they found a sporting goods store and stocked up on some of the items they should have picked up the day they got the new tent and sleeping bags. At that point, they felt they had reached their weight limit in their packs, and decided to head back to the trail.

  The following evening they were starting to search for a place to camp—they were no longer looking for wooden shelters—when they smelled campfire smoke off the trail. They investigated and discovered a group of eight people: two men, three women, and three children. Normally they might have walked on, but there was something pleasant-looking about the group, so they thought they’d stop by.

  “Approaching the fire,” called out Ben. He heard a couple of guns cock, but they showed themselves anyway.

  “We’re friendly,” said Lila, and stepped into the clearing.

  Seeing that they didn’t have their weapons in their hands, the men put down their own.

  “We don’t mean to barge in,” said Ben. “We smelled the smoke and thought we’d stop. We might end up seeing each other on the trail, so we thought it would be good to introduce ourselves. I’m Ben and this is Lila.”

  The adults looked at each other. “If I’m not mistaken,” said one of the men, “you exterminated some vermin about ten days ago. Am I right?”

  Ben looked at Lila. “Um…”

  “Three mean ones?” added the man.

  “I guess you could say so,” said Ben hesitantly, not knowing where this was going.

  “Then come and sit,” said the other man. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

  The group turned out to be from the survivor camp. Two of them looked to be married, but the rest--including the children--had just come together along the way. Most of them remembered seeing the two teens when they came in and talked to Paul. They told the story of the night the two left the camp.

  “We’d been having problems with those three ever since they showed up,” explained Dan, the first one to speak when they had walked in. “But, everyone was afraid of them. The board just wa
nted to form a decent community. There are always some problem people, but these three were pretty extreme. Finally, the night you left, the board decided to do something about it. They told them they were being evicted. They left quietly—or so we thought—and came back later that evening with weapons and hunted down the Board members one by one.”

  Ben and Lila were sad. They had liked Paul.

  “The Board wasn’t particularly strong,” said Dan, “but they were trying. It’s hard to form something out of nothing. They made some mistakes, but eventually they might have gotten something going with the community.”

  “Is the camp still there?” asked Lila.

  “It is. They formed a new board after the group came back to report what you’d done to those three.”

  “We heard it was pretty gruesome,” cut in Gordon, the other man.

  Ben just nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

  “Anyway,” continued Dan. “It was time we moved on. We decided to head south, as did a number of the people, once they knew they wouldn’t encounter Tank and his gang. You did a service for a lot of folks. Thank you.”

  “Actually,” said Gordon, “You’re pretty famous. The story is spreading down the trail of the two mysterious teenagers who faced down the scum of the earth, and left many grateful survivors in their wake.”

  And that was how we became folk heroes.

  Part Two: The Legend of Ben and Lila

  Chapter 10

  Time had worked to weed out the weakest of the humans. The Georges and Bunnys of the world—and even the Phils—had died out, leaving only those whose will to live was strong enough to sustain them. It didn’t mean that there weren’t any crazy people out there, it just meant that they were “strong” crazy people. And of course, you had the “Tank” types, who felt they could take advantage of those who were weakened by the disaster. The fact is, we were all weakened by it, but Lila and I had found the strength in each other to somehow grow in the process. But could we still grow if we found ourselves without each other? Early in our journey, I thought we would wilt and die without the other. Was that still the case?

  They stayed the night with Dan and company, and were off early the next morning. They walked for days, occasionally encountering others on their own journeys. They ran across a small camp from time to time, usually within the proximity of an urban area. They ranged in size from a half dozen to a couple of dozen people. Nobody seemed particularly happy, but all appeared determined to make it through the ordeal. Whereas in the days following the disaster, people were curious as to how others survived, nobody cared anymore. They were alive, and that was all that mattered.

  Almost all of them had heard of Ben and Lila. They were greeted with a mixture of respect, awe, and even a little fear. The story of their incident with Tank and his buddies had taken on a life of its own—exaggerated each time it was passed on to another. Since nobody really knew what had happened—the few people who had been at the scene after the fact could only surmise—it lent itself to interpretation. Wild interpretation.

  At first they tried to set the record straight, without going into personal details, but after a while they decided not to bother. The first reason being that nothing they said seemed to have any effect on the version of the story people wanted to believe. The second was that they might end up being safer if people feared them a bit. A reputation could be a good thing in the world in which they were now living.

  They began to realize for real just how few people had survived. Assuming that most either headed for the country—the forests or the mountains—or to the sea, and abandoned the cities due to the sheer numbers of dead and the risk of disease, they were seeing around them what was left of the country’s population. Ben’s unscientific guess was that for every million who died, maybe a hundred survived. Maybe.

  Once in a while they would venture into a town to find a bookstore and add to their library, throwing away cans of food from their packs and replacing them with survival books. They tried to camp near water so they could fish, which was becoming a staple of their diet. At night they read their books on small game hunting. They weren’t ready to tackle deer just yet, figuring it was way more meat than they needed while traveling. They also read another book on edible wild plants. If they were going to live in this new world, they needed to garner as much knowledge of the wilderness as they could.

  During one of their forays off the trail, Ben located a gun shop and once more stocked up heavily on ammunition. As he turned to leave, a selection of crossbows caught his attention. While most were too large to conveniently carry, he discovered a smaller version—only about 18 inches long and weighing about two pounds—called a pistol crossbow. Immediately falling in love with it, he picked up a quiver and a supply of arrows—or bolts, as he learned they were called.

  He showed his new possession to Lila, who could sense his excitement.

  “One of the disadvantages of the rifle,” he explained, “is the noise. If I can get good at this, it’ll really expand our options for hunting.”

  Eventually, they crossed the Susquehanna River and knew they were making progress. The violent storms still came on a frequent basis to slow them down, and once, they could have even sworn that they felt the ground move under them.

  They often took target practice, and Ben practiced with his crossbow until he was feeling pretty confident. They never argued, and in fact, found their love growing deeper each day. They began to know what the other would do or say before that person would even know it themselves.

  Sometimes they would venture far off the trail just to experience the peace of the forests or the vistas provided by the cliffs. It was during one of these expeditions that they finally decided to try hunting. They were emerging from the forest into a large meadow when they spotted a small flock of sheep not more than 50 feet away. They hadn't made the conscious decision to start hunting that day, but encountering the sheep sealed it for them.

  "How did sheep get here, in the middle of nowhere?" asked Ben in a whisper.

  "I'm actually surprised we haven't seen more farm animals," answered Lila. "Any that made it past the fences would have looked for good sources of food and water."

  "Should I go for it?" asked Ben.

  "We've got to get it over with sometime. You know we've been putting it off. How is it that we can walk past thousands of dead humans, but the thought of killing an animal disturbs us?"

  "Okay, well here goes," said Ben, lying down on the grass. The sheep either hadn't noticed them, or didn't care. Ben figured that being farm animals, they were used to the scent of humans. He got into a comfortable prone position, bracing his elbows on the grass, and aimed at the closest of the sheep. He took a deep breath and slowly let the air out. He pulled the trigger, the sound of the rifle a rude interruption to the peace and quiet of the meadow. The sheep scattered and birds exploded from the trees. A lone sheep lay in the grass motionless.

  He looked at Lila and saw tears in her eyes. They slowly got up and approached the dead animal.

  The tears were now rolling down Lila's cheeks. "He's so beautiful," she said quietly. "I feel horrible."

  "I do too," said Ben. "But if we're going to survive, we're going to have to get beyond this."

  "I know," replied Lila. She put her hand on the sheep's head and started talking to the animal. "Thank you for giving up your life for us. We are truly grateful for your sacrifice." She was silent for a minute, then said, "Okay, I guess I'm ready. I know it'll get easier. I just didn't expect the first one to be so hard."

  "Why don't we do what we need to right here?" suggested Ben. "We can take the meat we want, then leave the rest for the bears, or dogs, or coyotes."

  Lila agreed, and they got to work.

  It was a disaster from the very beginning. Using a book that gave explicit instructions for slaughtering the sheep, Ben slit the sheep's throat to allow the blood to drain from the body, then tied a cord to its back legs to hang it from a branch. It wa
s a lot heavier than they anticipated, but after a lot of effort, and two broken branches, they managed to hang it from the tree. Everything seemed messier and more difficult than they had hoped for, and Ben made numerous wrong cuts. They also realized that they lacked a saw to take off the sheep's legs and head. However, they kept at it until Ben sliced into the sheep's intestines by mistake and fecal matter gushed over everything. They knew the meat would now be contaminated.

  Ben flopped down on the ground, frustrated and exhausted.

  "We ended this sheep's life for nothing," he said.

  "It wasn't for nothing," replied Lila. "Look at what we've learned from this. The biggest thing is knowing that we can do it. Okay, so maybe the first one didn't work, but the next one will, and with each time we do it, it'll get easier. At least we know that because of everything we've seen over the last few weeks, this didn't gross us out as much as we thought it would. Next time let's try something smaller and work our way up. It'll also be easier when we find a place to settle down. We can find the right tools and do it the right way."

  The next day they shot a rabbit and the day after Ben got a squirrel with his crossbow. Cleaning the smaller animals was a lot easier, and when they ate their first meal of rabbit, the pride of accomplishment they felt was beyond anything either of them had experienced before. Hunting the animals also became easier. They no longer allowed feelings of guilt, only appreciation for what was coming into their lives.

  Yet, while they found themselves adapting to the wild, they still craved certain amenities from their old life. Soap, toothpaste, and razors were essentials. Lila had to shave her legs, and Ben was determined not to grow a mountain man beard. That wouldn’t happen though, as Lila often teased him, because his whiskers still didn’t grow that fast, and when they did, they came through in clumps. Certain areas of his face just didn’t grow hair.