Babylon (Eden Saga Book 2)

by Matthew C. Plourde

  Shrugging, she tied the handkerchief in place. With the amount of dust storms, maybe she wouldn’t look too out of place.

  “Alright buddy, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Alexandra and Talla climbed through the razor rock ravines, back towards the brilliant gates of Eden. They discovered a few paths, but she thought it wise to avoid them. She tracked her way back to the main valley and followed it to the outskirts of Babylon. Squat buildings, stationary vehicles, tents and torches greeted them as they entered the perimeter. She pulled the lid of her new hat lower and eyed the central tower. The structure seemed to watch and judge them as they approached.

  Two facts worried her. Firstly, the town square eerily resembled the one she saw in her vision of Benjamin's execution. Had she really been on the road that long? Was the event about to unfold? Could she stop it?

  Secondly, if any of the soldiers recognized her from Brasilia then her chances at finding Benjamin would be reduced to nothing. Or, if Marco had already returned then she was already being hunted. Her only chance was to sneak into the city and meld with the crowds.

  “And then there’s you,” Alexandra said as she patted Talla between the ears. “I can’t leave you out here to fend for yourself, so you gotta behave. Okay?”

  Talla blinked and licked his lips, oblivious to her words.

  “Alright then. Let’s find Benjamin and get the hell out of here before anyone notices us.”

  Though walls were being erected, they weren't close to completion. Alexandra found her route into the city unobstructed and slipped into the city proper with ease. The soldiers seemed to be concentrated at the main horse path entrance.

  Inside, people were everywhere.

  News of Eden and Babylon must have spread. Though she didn't know how many survivors were in Brasilia before the exodus, she reasoned many more had come. The inhabitants bustled about in their grimy, torn clothes or they worked upon buildings and barricades. Horses carried men and freight from place to place. Lanterns lit many entryways. The sounds of hammers and hooves filled the air along with the smoke from many camp fires. Aside from the Brasilian troops armed with assault rifles, Alexandra would have placed the scene from an old Wild West movie. At night.

  She moved swiftly to try and identify as many features as she could - the main wall, stables, bar, church, junkyard, storehouses, residences and the main tower. After a few hours she had a working layout in her mind. The design was similar to Brasilia, just on a smaller scale.

  Nobody paid her or Talla much attention and she was careful to avoid the soldiers. From what she could tell, the city didn’t seem to be in a state of alert. Either Marco hadn’t returned yet or she had placed a little too much value on her own head.

  Though her curiosity demanded she catch a glimpse of this child king upon his throne, Alexandra’s first priority was Benjamin. She followed her mental map back towards the city square and listened to conversations and watched the people. The rough and tumble looking boys appeared to be “the rangers” and they patrolled the outskirts. Alexandra guessed this was Marco’s group. They congregated at “the ranch,” a bar-slash-barracks for their members. From what she could gather, prisoners weren’t kept there.

  One woman did ask a Brasilian soldier where she could petition the Padre for leniency for her brother. The soldier told her to head to the church. Alexandra caught the woman once she was away from the soldiers.

  “Excuse me,” Alexandra said from behind her kerchief. She liked how the garment even masked her voice a little. Every bit helped.

  “Si?” the woman said with a hint of nervousness.

  Alexandra guessed the woman to be Nicaraguan – maybe Costa Rican. Her dark skin was mostly covered by a patterned blanket over her shoulders and rags on her legs. She was barefoot. Her eyes sloped downwards at the ends and she watched Alexandra with some trepidation.

  Speaking in Spanish, Alexandra asked the woman where her brother was being held. Though uneasy around Alexandra, the woman pointed towards a mound of earth near the church. The soldiers called it “the hill” and the woman explained it was a place for criminals and heathens. The gallows could also be found there.

  A plan sparked to life in her mind and she asked about the woman’s brother – his name and distinguishing features. Likely more out of fear than anything else, the woman reluctantly supplied the details. Perhaps she thought Alexandra was a ranger. She certainly looked the part in her borrowed garments. The woman’s brother was Enrique and he was bald with dark skin and many piercings in his ears.

  “Gracias,” Alexandra said.

  As she approached the hill, her stomach twisted itself into knots. This was the vantage point for her vision of Benjamin’s execution. He would be hanged there, if she could trust what she saw in her waking dream.

  “Alright,” she said to Talla, “the easy part’s over. Now we see if I’m a crazy woman for coming back here.”

  Her plan was simple and took a more defined shape with each step towards the hill. She peered at each Brasilian soldier as she approached. If she recognized any of them, she decided she would abandon her gambit and reconsider her options. No sense in cracking the hornet’s nest just yet.

  Before the soldiers at the earthen entrance into the bowels of the hill could ask her who she was, she said, “English?”

  A soldier gripped his rifle and said, “Sim. I speak English.”

  “I’m with the Rangers,” Alexandra said. “I need to see a prisoner of yours.”

  “What’s your name?” the soldier asked.

  “Holly. I’m with Marco’s crew.”

  The soldier smiled and displayed three grimy fingers. “Ahh. Your friend owes me three drinks!”

  Alexandra laughed. “You gotta corner him if you want to get paid,” she said. “If you need help, I’ll gladly smack him across his pretty face for ya.”

  Joining her in laughter, the soldier said, “I think I like to see that.”

  “He deserves that and more,” she said as she recalled Marco’s betrayal at the cruise ship.

  “Who do you want to see?”

  “A man by the name of Enrique,” Alexandra said. “Bald fellow. He was brought in recently.”

  The soldier nodded. “Sim. You can follow me.”

  Alexandra knelt beside Talla and said, “Stay. I’ll be right back.”

  Though he whimpered, the coyote remained topside while the Brasilian soldier led Alexandra into the ground. She recalled pockets of dark earth like this one on her last trip to Eden, though they didn’t do any digging during that furious dash. The Brasilians appeared to have hollowed out one such area and called it a jail. A few lanterns attempted to light the low corridor. Deep shadows swallowed the passageway between gaps of flickering light and hissing oil. The cells were nothing more than low pits dug further into the ground. Wooden beams provided support in seemingly random spots. Barbed wire lined the rims of the pits and most of them were quite dark, though Alexandra detected movement within them. The rotten scent of human waste filled her nostrils. Obviously, the prisoners weren’t well cared for.

  “What do you want with Enrique?” the soldier asked over his shoulder as he led her deeper.

  As she attempted to discern faces within the dark pits, she cursed under her breath. She knew she wouldn’t be able to find Benjamin without calling his name or shining a light into each pit. With four guards posted at the only entrance, she wasn’t sure how she would be able to leave undetected with Benjamin. Any attempt to overwhelm them would likely end with a test of just how many bullets it takes to kill Alexandra Contreras. And any number of onlookers could witness the scene.

  No good.

  Changing her tactic, she said, “Actually, I’m not here to see Enrique. Marco sent me to check on another prisoner.”

  The soldier stopped and turned towards her, a frown across his face. “Why did you tell me Enrique? Who do you want to see?”

  “You have an American soldier here,” Alexandr
a said.

  “We have four American soldiers.”

  That made sense, Alexandra thought. Benjamin’s team was captured during a reconnaissance mission. She dared to hope her friend was still alive.

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, I’m sorry for the secrecy but this isn’t exactly a sanctioned visit. There’s kind of a vendetta between Marco and-“

  “I don’t care,” the soldier said lazily. “I can take you to the Americans.”

  They turned back towards the entrance and the soldier stopped at a large pit.

  “The Americans,” he said as he handed his lantern to Alexandra.

  Heart sinking, she took the lantern and shone it into the makeshift cell. Several men in ragged fatigues lay on the ground, their ankles chained to posts in the earth. Huddled against the far wall was a face she recognized. His bushy, brown beard covered his neck and an eye patch adorned the left side of his face. Dark splotches covered his bare feet and he winced at the light.

  Benjamin was alive.

  Chapter 18

  The anger Alexandra harbored for Lilev was but an ember compared to the roaring flames of hatred she reserved for Padre Hernon. He had killed Nicole and left her friend to rot in the earth. Perhaps Alexandra had one more goal while she was in Babylon after all.

  She considered killing the Brasilian –Babylonian? – guards and attempting an escape, but these men did no wrong as far as she could tell. What right did she have to bring violence to them simply because her friend was suffering? No, harming the soldiers wouldn’t achieve balance here.

  “They don’t talk much,” the soldier said.

  Continuing her ruse, Alexandra hardened her voice and said, “They’ll talk to me.” She leaned over the barbed wire. “Which one of you is Benjamin?”

  Her friend stirred and Alexandra was relieved the Brasilian soldier couldn’t see the concern on her face. Watching Benjamin in pain was almost too much for her. How severely was he injured? She needed to get him out of there as soon as possible.

  Benjamin was about to speak, but Alexandra interrupted him.

  “You don’t know me. Marco wants to know where your last camp was located,” she said, hopeful her hidden message reached him. She couldn’t afford a reunion just yet, not with a potential enemy so close.

  Benjamin blinked and said, “Sorry ma’am, we’re not talking to any soldiers or filthy rangers.”

  Either he got her message or he really didn’t recognize her voice.

  Relaxing her accent and throatiness, she lowered her bandana and said, “My name is Holly, and we rangers are only filthy until we’re allowed a nice bath.”

  The Brasilian chuckled and Benjamin’s eye widened. Now he recognized her.

  Her hope rekindled, Alexandra said, “I’m looking for your radio equipment.”

  “We have no equipment in the field,” Benjamin said. “Though you’re welcome to go searching. The good Padre confiscated all of our gear.”

  “You lie, soldier,” Alexandra said. “I know for a fact you stationed hidden repeaters along your way so you could send messages back to your base. Marco has tasked me with finding them and you are going to tell me where they are.”

  “The repeaters are no good without the signaler, which is in possession of the good Padre,” Benjamin said.

  Alexandra knew nothing of radios and such. Thankfully, Benjamin guessed her incompetency and was feeding her information. He was telling her exactly what she needed to relay a message back to General Ryan. At this point, it seemed like the best course of action.

  Now was the test. Was the Brasilian soldier really listening? Did he even suspect her subterfuge?

  “I realize your American loyalty won’t allow you to reveal the code I would need to use the signaler,” she said, “so tell me or I’ll have to hurt you.”

  The other Americans were awake now and watching her, disgust and anger on their faces. If they weren’t chained to the ground the men may have attempted rushing her at that moment.

  Alexandra lifted her kerchief back into place and turned towards the Brasilian soldier.

  “Can I go down there?” she asked. “I just need to cut on that boy until he tells me the code.”

  “Sim,” the soldier said as he produced a heavy blanket from his back. He laid it over the barbed wire and offered his hand.

  “I’ll be okay,” Alexandra said. Then, she paused. “I might be a while.”

  The soldier nodded and said, “Yell when ready to come out.”

  “Thanks.”

  He left his lantern with her and disappeared down the corridor, likely glad to be free of the stench and darkness of the underground prison. Alexandra exhaled in relief – her plan was working. So far.

  She almost stumbled over her feet as she raced to her friend. They embraced and he felt brittle in her arms. He shook and closed his eye to his tears.

  “Alex… andra. You’re alive,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t believe it. Nicole, she-”

  “Quiet now,” Alexandra said. She sensed the confusion from the other Americans but she paid them little attention. Now, this close to Benjamin, she felt the burning coals of hope kindle into a small flame. She decided she would see him safe, no matter what the cost. For some reason still unknown to her, she felt connected to Benjamin, the general and Medina. Now that he was close again, that feeling resurfaced. She almost felt like a part of her was with them.

  After a few moments Alexandra broke from him and examined his disheveled state. The prison had left him gaunt and weak. Benjamin introduced her to the other soldiers and their faces betrayed their awe – they had heard the stories about her, it seemed.

  “I’m not going to lie to you,” Alexandra said, “getting you guys out of here won’t be easy.”

  “I have so many questions,” Benjamin said.

  She frowned. “Those must wait. I’m not sure if they’ll come back to check on us. And I need you to tell me everything you know about that radio.”

  “Right,” Benjamin said. He relayed the code, frequency and startup sequence to her.

  Alexandra mentally noted the details and repeated them in her head a few times. “Okay,” she said. “And the signaler is with the padre?”

  Benjamin’s eyes narrowed with hatred and he nodded.

  Though they didn’t discuss Nicole, Alexandra put her hand on Benjamin’s shoulder and met those eyes. “We will kill him. I promise,” she growled.

  “I just want to be the one to do it,” he said. “I’ve never really wanted to kill anyone, not even after all the terrorist videos they showed us during basic training. But that man… He needs to pay.”

  “We’ll get him,” she said. “But first things first. I’ll signal General Ryan – we might need his help. Then, if the opportunity arises, I’ll try and sneak you guys out of here.”

  Benjamin nodded again. “Better make it quick,” he said. “We think they’re planning on executing us in a few days in celebration of the Child King’s 1st birthday.”

  Even though she hoped it was a temporary farewell, saying goodbye to Benjamin was difficult for her. But she needed to move with more haste now that her timeframe had narrowed.

  A few days?

  She stalked towards the cathedral with Talla, not willing to let Padre Hernon take another friend from her.

  A year?

  Had she been in the wasteland that long? Many survivors marked a rope, or other device, to count the passing of time. For some reason, the actual weeks and months meant little to her. Until now. If the Child King was born when Heaven fell, and he was about to turn a year old, then Alexandra had been wandering for that same amount of time.

  A year.

  One, long painful trek through the ruins of her old world. She struggled to recall her old life before Eden became her obsession. However, she found details fuzzy. Muted. Ancient. That life held little meaning for her any longer and she was a different Alexandra Contreras. Hunted by demons, the Church, grief and her own conflicting desires. />
  The new cathedral in Babylon paled in splendor compared to the one in Brasilia. However, Alexandra noticed it was one of the most elaborate structures – at least Padre Hernon had his priorities straight in his own mind. Behind the cathedral loomed the central tower, where the Child King sat.

  “Stay here,” Alexandra said to Talla. He knew the drill now, simply from her tone. Content to sniff at the garbage in the alley, he wandered off.

  Like in Brasilia, the front doors were open to all. People loitered in the aisles and pews, some of them praying and others engaged in hushed conversations. Alexandra slipped past them all without a second glance and made for the door at the rear of the church. She learned from her college days that she could get far if she appeared like she knew what she was doing. With her Babylonian ranger disguise, she boldly opened the door and disappeared into the inner chambers.

  Nobody challenged her.

  A lone lantern lit the hallway and she took it from its cradle. Peering into the two offices, she found the radio. Exhilaration coursed through her as she sat and coaxed the device to life. Indigo panels softly lit themselves and she entered the information provided to her by Benjamin.

  “Hello? This is Alexandra Contreras at Babylon. I’m trying to reach General Ryan in Brasilia. Please respond.”

  Nothing.

  She repeated the message a few times. Then, a light blinked and a voice responded.

  “This is Captain Morin of the United States Army,” the voice said. “What’s your situation?”

  Benjamin instructed her to give as little information as possible. He couldn’t teach her their jargon but he stressed that less was more. Keep it brief. Keep it simple.

  “Found what I came for. Held against their will. Execution imminent,” Alexandra said as she relayed the information in bite-sized segments. “Need to speak with the general.”

  “General unavailable,” Captain Morin said. “Tell me what you can.”

  “I probably won’t get another shot at this.”

  “Understood. How many captives?”