The Eden Conspiracy: Book 2 of The Liberty Box Trilogy

by C. A. Gray

  I pulled her out of the way so that my dad could clear the window next. Then I grabbed the assault rifle, aiming it in the direction of the last burst of gunfire while I waited for Charlie and my dad—there was no way the guards hadn’t heard my mom’s screams. They’d be headed this way to investigate any minute.

  There was a thud behind me, and my dad ran over to my mom, pulling her into his arms. Just then, a guard came into view.

  “There!” he pointed, shouting over his shoulder.

  Close your non-dominant eye, I told myself. Aim halfway between the target and the end of your weapon. I said a quiet prayer, and pulled the trigger. The guard collapsed, just as I heard the last thud of my brother hitting the roof behind us.

  “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” Charlie demanded.

  “Shh!” I hissed. The fallen guard had already alerted one of his buddies. He’d come into view any second now… and…

  There he was, running toward us, weapon drawn. I aimed, pulled the trigger—and missed. The bullet would have hit him if he’d stayed still, but he kept coming, now taking aim at me. I had no cover at all.

  “Kat-IE!” wailed my father.

  I fired again, and missed—but a split second later, the guard fell face down on the roof anyway, a bullet through his forehead.

  I whipped around, and saw Jackson standing right behind us.

  Chapter 25: Ben Voltolini

  Before Voltolini knew what was happening, his personal guards had whisked him out of the courtroom and into the corridor. One of them ran in front of him down the glass catwalk, and the other followed behind.

  “What happened?” Voltolini demanded.

  “Terrorist attack,” said his guard Kurtzman, behind him.

  “Do not let Brandeis escape!”

  “We won’t, Your Excellency.” They reached the main part of the palace, and led the Potentate into a windowless room. A few members of the Tribunal followed him—among them, Jefferson Collins, the speaker. He was sweating profusely.

  Voltolini did not like being holed up in a windowless room, even if it was for his own protection. He stood up, dumped his black robes onto a straight backed chair, and paced, swearing as he went. He did not like not knowing what was happening outside, either. He did not like the feeling of being out of control.

  “Where’s the rest of the Tribunal?” he demanded, looking around at only the seven who had entered the safe room after him. There had been fifteen in the courtroom.

  “Shot, your Excellency,” murmured Collins, wiping his dripping brow. “I didn’t see how many—”

  Voltolini swore again. He opened the door from the safe room and peeked into the corridor to see Kurtzman standing guard with his semiautomatic.

  “Give me a report!” he demanded. “Who is up there, and is Brandeis still in custody or dead?”

  Kurtzman’s receiver crackled, but no words came through. He glanced at Voltolini, not wanting to tell him what he knew so far, but knew he had no choice.

  “The sniper picked off all the guards who ran into the courtroom after the shooting began,” he said finally. “It appears Brandeis and her family escaped through the bathroom window just outside the courtroom, and they are on the roof. We can only assume the shooter is MacNamera, since we already knew he was back on Republic soil just yesterday. He must have come to rescue her, but we don’t yet know whether they’ve been reunited.”

  Voltolini swore again. “Get our media team here! I want their deaths reported live! Film the whole thing!”

  Kurtzman’s receiver crackled again, and he picked it up, speaking into it rapidly.

  “What?” he demanded. “Where did you hear this from?” Pause. More crackling. “The east coast? How did we—” he shook his head, looking at Voltolini. “I will inform the Potentate immediately.”

  “Tell me MacNamera and Brandeis are in custody or dead,” demanded Voltolini through gritted teeth.

  Kurtzman shook his head, but he was still smiling. “No, your Excellency—but we have caught four more of the refugees red-handed. They appear to be some of the group leaders. They’re willing to talk.”

  Voltolini’s eyes narrowed. “Air it,” he commanded. “The whole thing. The interrogation, and their executions.”

  Kurtzman’s eyebrows shot up. “Execute them anyway? Even if they tell us what we want to know?”

  “Absolutely. We have a strict policy in the Republic of not negotiating with terrorists.”

  Chapter 26: Jackson

  I’d started to wonder if I’d ever see Kate alive again.

  “Nice shot,” I told her, reaching a hand down to help her to her feet. I pulled her into a quick hug. She squeezed back, hard. She was trembling.

  “What do you mean, nice shot?” she said when she pulled back, “I missed!”

  “You didn’t miss the first time.” She didn’t seem surprised to see me, I noted. Relieved, yes, but not surprised.

  I nodded to her family then, by way of introduction, and pointed at the semiautomatic in Charlie’s hands.

  “You know how to use those things?”

  He shrugged. “I can figure it out.”

  Good enough. “Don’t hesitate to use it then. This place is crawling with guards, and they know I’m still up here.” I turned my pistol around and handed it to Kate, reaching for her assault rifle. “I’ll trade you. Doubt you can run well with that thing.”

  “Who… who are you?” asked Kate’s mother in a quavering voice.

  “I’m a friend. Introductions later,” I told her. Probably best that she didn’t recognize me from the news broadcasts yet. I figured she’d make that connection once the shock wore off. “Right now we’ve gotta get out of here,” I told them all. “Follow me, stay low as much as possible, and try to keep up.”

  Fortunately I’d been forced to learn the intricacies of the palace rooftop on my way up. We’d have to cross over the top of the catwalk to the main palace roof, and from there we could climb down—the catwalk was the most exposed part of the whole roof, though. Before we reached it, I held up an arm to signal the others to stop behind me. I saw just the very the top of a head behind a parapet some hundred and fifty yards away, guarding the catwalk. I silently thanked Kate for having the foresight to grab an assault rifle, as I probably couldn’t have made that shot with anything else. I took aim, and fired. The top of the head vanished, and I saw a limp hand appear from beyond the edge of the parapet a split second later.

  “He was the only one guarding the catwalk,” I said. I neither saw nor sensed anybody else. They must’ve thought we’d already gotten beyond it. “Let’s go.”

  The catwalk was quite narrow, and there were no guard rails, as it wasn’t meant to be crossed from above. Behind me, I heard both Charlie and Kate cajoling their parents.

  “I can’t, I just can’t!” their mom repeated, like a mantra.

  “Mom, you have to,” said Charlie. “Come on, one step at a time. You can do it…”

  “No, I can’t, I—no! NO!”

  “Charlie, stop forcing her! Can’t you see she’s terrified?” Kate’s dad cried.

  “You want to just stay here and get shot then?” Charlie retorted at them both.

  I bit my lip. This isn’t going to work. We really had to move. Another guard would replace the one I’d shot in no time. But if we couldn’t get Kate’s parents out of their fixed mindsets, we’d get nowhere fast, and they’d likely get us all killed. I had to do something.

  “Duck around here,” I told them, pointing at a parapet on our side of the roof. I grabbed Kate’s mother by the hand, clutching my assault rifle with the other, and jogging so she would be forced to keep up.

  “What are you doing? Stop! Stop!” she shouted, struggling against me. I held my grip firm, though, and I could hear her start to hyperventilate. I ignored this and pulled her around so that the parapet covered us completely, at least from the view of the catwalk. Then I glanced
around to make sure the coast was clear.

  “Sit down, all four of you, and do exactly as I say.”

  Kate sat down immediately. Charlie eyed me for a moment, like he thought this was a very odd command, but he obeyed too. Then he yanked on his dad’s hand, who also sat, and pulled their mother down too.

  “Okay, now everybody close your eyes.”

  “Jackson, really?” Kate said. “Now?”

  I crouched down too, reaching over to grab her hand. “Trust me,” I told her. “All of you, take a deep breath in, as deep as you can make it, and hold it. Now, tense every muscle in your body, from your toes all the way up your legs, your abs, your arms, your fingers, and your face. Squeeze as hard as you can. Hold it. Okay. Release your breath, and with it, relax all your muscles. One at a time, from your face all the way back down to your toes.”

  With a collective whoosh, I watched them all visibly relax.

  “Open your eyes,” I commanded, and looked at each of them in turn. Grandfather had taught me that technique when I was ten, after I’d shot at and missed a charging bear. Grandfather had killed it for me, but I’d started to have a panic attack afterwards. This was how he'd brought me out of it. My uncle later explained that it had something to do with forcibly switching me from my sympathetic to my parasympathetic nervous system. “A physical way to manipulate your biochemistry,” he’d said, impressed.

  I looked around at Kate’s family. They all looked calmer, or at least not on the verge of meltdown anymore. Kate’s mother especially watched me with wonder.

  I told her, “Every time you start to panic, before you scream, and before you say ‘I can’t’ about anything, I want you to do that. Got it?”

  She gazed back at me like I was some kind of miracle worker. For the first time, I saw where Kate got her eyes from. “You’re—you’re Jackson MacNamera! Aren’t you?”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “I promise I’m not as bad as they made me out to be. All right, we’ve gotta move. Follow me, and stay down as best you can.”

  Chapter 27: Kate

  Jackson blazed our trail for us, seeking cover as he crept across the rooftop alone at first. Every moment my heart stopped as I saw bullets whizz past him. His entire path was riddled with bullet holes. But it seemed like he turned this to his advantage, like he purposely drew the agents’ gunfire to pinpoint their locations and then plucked them off, one by one. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he’d motion for us to follow him to the next bit of cover, and then repeat the process out in the open, alone.

  “They’re shooting at him,” my mother whispered to me, incredulous. “They’re shooting at him, but he never gets hit. Why is that?”

  I shook my head. I had been wondering the same thing—clearly these bullets were real, or there wouldn’t be so much damage.

  Jackson motioned to us to join him behind a parapet some fifty yards from our current position. I ran out first, clutching the pistol he’d given me to my chest and scanning for any agents he might have missed. My mom came after me, then my dad, and Charlie brought up the rear. When I reached him, before Jackson could move on to the next segment of roof, I put a hand on his shoulder and started inspecting his clothing, making sure he really hadn’t been hit.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Checking for bullet holes! They’ve been shooting at you with semi-automatics, and everything around you gets totally wasted…!”

  “Kate.” He took both my hands in his to stop me, and then turned me around, to face the direction from which we’d come. He pointed.

  The rooftop behind us was pristine. Not a mark on it. I blinked, not understanding for half a second. When I did, I somehow felt both relieved and deflated.

  “You’ve got a jammer,” I whispered to Jackson. And now that I was within its radius, I could see reality again too.

  He nodded at me, and took it out of his pocket. “Here, you take it. I should have realized you would have lost yours by now.”

  “But I learned to see!” I protested, frustrated. In the dungeons last night, I thought I’d overcome the government signals once and for all… how could I still be so susceptible? “I shouldn’t need this, and anyway, if you give it to me they’ll pick up your brainwaves and track you—”

  He shoved it back at me. “The same goes for you, but it doesn’t matter because they already know both of us are on the roof right now anyway. As soon as we get off, we’ll all stay within ten feet of each other, and we’ll both disappear. But at the moment, just in case I miss one of the agents up here, I want you and your family protected.”

  Before I could protest again, Jackson ran off for the next bit of cover, leaving the signal disruptor in my hands. I slipped it into my pocket. When the shots came at him this time, I still flinched, but the terror eased up somewhat. At least mentally, I knew he was okay.

  My father crept up behind me as we waited. “Once we get off this roof, then where is he taking us?”

  “Beckenshire,” I whispered back.

  “Beckenshire?!” my whole family hissed in unison, and Charlie added, “Um, you mean nuclear power plant meltdown site Beckenshire? Are we talking about the same one?”

  I nodded. “It might not be radioactive anymore, Will said, but the government didn’t want anyone to know that because they don’t have control centers set up there yet.”

  “Might not be?” Charlie echoed, just as Jackson beckoned to us to follow him. He’d picked off most of the agents in the vicinity already, so this time he’d only had to kill one more. After this, we wouldn’t have that much further before we ran out of roof. I hoped Jackson had some idea how to get off of it.

  When we reunited with Jackson under the next parapet right by the edge of the roof, Charlie demanded again, “What do you mean, it might not be radioactive, Kate?”

  “We don’t technically know for sure,” I snapped. “But it was either go and risk dying later, or die now for sure. So if you’d prefer we just leave you here, now would be the time to speak up!”

  “Well, excuse me for expressing a little concern about slowly dying of cancer!” Charlie retorted. “Ever think maybe there’s a reason why they’re not bothering to look for you guys there? Like maybe they know something you don’t know?”

  “We had a perfectly safe cave community, but the Potentate bombed that!” I shot back. “It was our only option—”

  “Shh!” Jackson hissed. He still crouched down below the parapet, and turned slowly with an expression of intense focus. Suddenly he stopped, and raised the rifle just past my father’s shoulder. My father ducked in alarm, but Jackson ignored him, and fired. As soon as he did, I saw the body fall much farther away than where I’d been looking for it—and evidently just before the agent could pull the trigger on us, as his own rifle clattered to the roof beside him. Not that Jackson, Charlie or I were in danger from false bullets now, but I still wasn’t sure if my parents were immune, even within the jammer’s radius.

  “Okay,” Jackson turned to us, pulling a thick rope out of the pack he wore on his back. “How are you four at rappelling?”

  We all blinked at him for a minute, before I said, “You’re joking.”

  He shook his head. “It’s the only way down, unless you want to go through the palace itself.” He walked to the edge of the roof, where decorative concrete pillars punctuated the perimeter, separating lengths of wrought iron fence. Then he looped one end of the rope around the concrete pillar, and around part of the fence too.

  “Jackson…” I said cautiously. Was he really serious?

  He ignored me, gathering up the two loose ends of the rope and knotting them together. Then he picked up the length of it, and tossed it down to the lawn below.

  Oh my, he was serious. I started to feel lightheaded.

  Behind me, my mother began to babble, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this, I can’t do this…”

  “Mom!” I heard Charlie say sha
rply, and turned to see him clutching both her hands. “Close your eyes!” he ordered. “Take a deep breath in, and flex every muscle in your body…”

  Jackson looked over his shoulder at them and half-smiled, and then he winked at me. I tried to smile back.

  “You might want to follow along with them,” Jackson told me.

  I shook my head, maybe too vigorously. “I’m fine.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow at me. “Truth or a lie, Kate?”

  Of course the answer to that was obvious. I bit my lip in response, nodded, and closed my eyes, screwing up the muscles in my toes, arms, legs, torso, and face. I held everything as tightly as I could for a count of eight. Then I exhaled and opened my eyes.

  It was amazing, how that simple action could flood my body with a kind of mild euphoria. At least briefly.

  “Charlie,” Jackson beckoned my brother. “Let’s have you go first.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “Why aren’t you going first?”

  “Because I have to stay up here and fasten the harnesses for everybody. It’s not hard, but I wouldn’t want you to get it wrong.” He grabbed the two sides of the rope looped around the pillar and fence, swinging just enough of them back up onto the roof. “This is what you’ll have to do,” he told Charlie, “and if you get a rope burn… I apologize.” To demonstrate, Jackson positioned each side of the rope under his own armpits, looping them around behind his back and then stepping his foot outside the free edges of the rope on either side. Then he looped those edges up through his groin, pulling both ends of the rope behind him and gathering them with his right hand beside his right hip. He wrapped both of the free edges of the rope once around his right wrist.

  “This is how your weight is supported,” Jackson told Charlie, lifting up his right wrist. “Move your arm more backwards to minimize friction and help you descend faster, or forwards to slow down. Hold the ropes above you with your left hand, release a little at a time with your right arm, and push down with your feet. Got it?”

  Charlie looked white, but he nodded. “Sure. Sure.”