The Project Eden Thrillers Box Set 2

by Brett Battles

  Leon and the other communication coordinators knew they wouldn’t be able to save everyone, but they would try. The biggest obstacle they were facing was convincing those who were in traveling range of a survival station to not go there. The survivors were desperate for anything that seemed like a way out of the horror, and Project Eden’s UN ploy filled that void perfectly. Of course, the Project had known that from the beginning, and had carefully planned out this phase.

  Where Resistance coordinators could, they sent in teams, armed not only with proof that the UN did not exist anymore, but, more importantly, with vaccine. This personal touch worked more times than not, but there were still groups and individuals who would not listen to what the Resistance had to say and headed for the stations anyway.

  By noon, Leon was in contact with fourteen different groups, but the one that interested him most was Jabala’s. She and her friends had apparently figured out on their own that the survival stations were false fronts for something more sinister. How, exactly, still wasn’t clear, but he felt particularly connected to them, and wanted to make sure they were all right.

  The girl had told him to wait an hour before calling back, but he figured fifty-six minutes was close enough and input her number again. Though the computer indicated the call had connected after the third ring, he could hear nothing from the other end.

  “Hello?” he said.

  No, not nothing. Breathing, and…something else. A faint, rhythmic tapping sound.

  “Jabala?”

  “Five minutes,” Jabala said, her voice a whispered rush.

  The line went dead.

  Leon stared at the screen. What was going on? Was she in danger?

  He checked the clock to note exactly when he could call back.

  At the station next to him, Crystal was saying. “Uh-huh…okay…yes, you’re authorized. Keep us informed.”

  As she was clicking off, the door opened and Rachel walked in.

  “How’s everything going?” Rachel asked.

  “Just got off with our people in Panama,” Crystal said. “Their team in Belize is getting bogged down. Apparently there are several pockets of survivors, but getting to each is proving difficult.”

  “I’m sure they’re doing the best they can.”

  “Rachel, it’s the same team that’s scheduled to visit that large group in Costa Rica tomorrow morning. No way they can make it now.”

  “How soon?”

  “At least another day. Maybe two.”

  “When did Project Eden say they’d return to the island?”

  “Going by the radio conversation we intercepted, could be anytime in the next forty-eight hours or so.”

  “No way to rearrange our people?”

  “The team’s in the field, away from the plane. Even if we order them back, it’d still be a day and a half until they get to the base, load up again, and go to Costa Rica.”

  “No alternatives?”

  “The real problem isn’t the medical team or aircraft, it’s the pilots. Panama has an extra seaplane sitting there, and there’s a med team in Guadalajara that just finished up, but no one to pick them up or fly them to Costa Rica.”

  Rachel closed her eyes and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “We can’t afford to lose anyone,” she said in a low voice probably meant more for herself than anyone. She looked at Crystal again. “Do what you can. As soon as a flight team becomes available, send it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rachel switched her attention to Leon. “You look…concerned.”

  He hesitated a moment before saying, “I am.” He explained what had been going on with the group in India. When he finished, he glanced at the clock. “It’s actually time for me to call them again.”

  “Then do it. And please put it on speaker.”

  This time the call was answered on the first ring.

  “Leon?” Jabala asked.

  “Jabala, are you okay? You sounded—”

  “We are okay now, thank you.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Over the next several minutes, Jabala told him of her decision to travel to Mumbai in search of her brother-in-law Sanjay, thinking he and Leon should talk. Apparently while she was on her way there, Sanjay and Jabala’s sister Kusum had sneaked into the survival station and rescued several of the people being held there, or something like that. It wasn’t completely clear. Now they were all together, hiding from soldiers who were pretending to be with the UN.

  After sharing a long, surprised glance with Rachel and Crystal, Leon said, “Perhaps I should talk to Sanjay.”

  “Of course. One moment, please.”

  A few seconds later, a male voice said, “Yes?”

  “Is this Sanjay?” Leon asked. The man sounded younger than Leon had expected.

  “Yes. And you are…Leon?”

  “Right. Your sister-in-law tells me you’ve had quite an adventure this evening.”

  “I am not sure I would call it an adventure,” Sanjay said, no humor in his voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of it.”

  “It is okay. I am tired.”

  “Of course. I’ll try not to keep you long. Jabala said you actually went into the survival station.”

  “That is correct. But it was not that difficult. I knew about the hole under the wall from before.”

  “That’s right. You worked for Pishon Chem.

  “I did, well, until I found out what they were going to spray was not an anti-malaria chemical.” He explained about finding his cousin Ayush dying of exposure to Sage Flu; about getting Kusum, Jabala, and their family out of Mumbai; about sneaking into the Pishon Chem compound, and forcing the managers to give him vaccine.

  “When we first heard about the survival stations, we were excited,” Sanjay went on, unaware of the stunned listeners at Ward Mountain. “But when the location was finally announced, and I realized it was the same facility used by Pishon Chem, I became suspicious. I knew we needed to check first before sending everyone there. So my wife, three of our friends, and I came here. When I saw that the people who seemed to be running the operation were the same people in charge of Pishon Chem, I knew these were not UN representatives, and that whatever they had planned could not be good.” After seconds of silence, he asked, “Are you still there?”

  “Sorry,” Leon said. “It’s just, well, your story is surprising.”

  “You do not believe me?” Sanjay asked, his tone growing defensive.

  “Absolutely, we believe you,” Leon said. “You’ve been through a lot, that’s all.”

  “Has not everyone?” Sanjay asked.

  “Yes, that’s true.” Leon paused. “So when you realized these people weren’t the UN, I assume that’s when you snuck back in and helped the survivors they’d collected escape.”

  Sanjay took a moment before responding. “There were two holding areas inside. One for those who were not obviously infected, and one for those who were. I brought everyone who was not infected out. I…cut a hole in the fence for the others, but left it for them to discover. I did not want to risk picking up the disease and spreading it to anyone who had not been vaccinated yet.”

  The last came out as almost an apology.

  “You did the right thing,” Leon said.

  “I do not know about that, but, I, uh, I did what I had to.”

  “Are you going to take everyone out of the city to your boarding school?”

  “The school?” Sanjay said, suspiciously. “How did you know about the school?”

  “Jabala mentioned it, but don’t worry, she didn’t tell me where. And even if she had, the last thing we want to do is harm you.”

  “Who exactly are you?”

  “We’re a group of people who have been fighting those behind Pishon Chem for a long time. Though we tried, we couldn’t keep the virus from being released. Now our goal is simply to keep the survivors alive.”

  “And the others? Who are they?
”

  “They call themselves Project Eden. And they have been planning this for a long, long time.”

  “But why? I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t understand it, either. All I know is that they want to control those they chose to survive, and direct the future as they see fit. I’m sure this is all difficult to believe, but—”

  “Not as difficult as I wish it was,” Sanjay said. “You wanted to know what I am going to do? I’m going back.”

  “Going back where?”

  “To Pishon Chem,” Sanjay said. “To the survival station.”

  “Why would you do that?” Leon asked, not trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

  “Because we have no more vaccine, and the people who escaped today will need it. The only place I know to find it is inside those walls.”

  Leon was about to tell him that he might be able to get some vaccine to them in a few days when someone touched his arm.

  “HELLO, SANJAY. MY name is Rachel.”

  “Hello.” His reply came back tentative, as if unsure why he was being passed off to someone else.

  “Sanjay, no one here thinks it’s a good idea for you to reenter the survival station.”

  “What choice do we have? We are out of vaccine.”

  “We have vaccine,” she said. “It will just take time to get it to you.” She glanced at Leon. He held up three fingers. “Three days at the earliest.”

  “Three days is a long time,” he said. “This flu is everywhere, yes?”

  “The risk of exposure is still very high, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Then I do not see how I have any choice.”

  She hesitated. “I said we don’t think it’s a good idea to go, but if you need the vaccine now it could be your best chance. That’s something you will have to decide. What I will promise you is that we will get vaccine to you no matter what you choose to do, in case you run into others later.”

  “If anyone dies because I did not go back for more vaccine, it will be as much my fault as that of those who have spread the disease.”

  “Sanjay, that’s not true.”

  “Of course, it is true. How many people have died?”

  “We…we don’t know.”

  “Here in Mumbai there were millions and millions people. Now maybe I have seen one hundred still alive. One hundred people out of so many. Is it the same everywhere?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Then I must go.”

  THE RANCH, MONTANA

  1:44 PM MST

  THE TRIP SOUTH had been anything but pleasant. The Dash 7 Combi aircraft belonging to the research station on Amund Ringnes Island was a hearty, four-propeller plane, but it was not immune to the heavy turbulence that kept Pax and the others strapped in their seats most of the time. Its limited flight range of a thousand miles in the best weather conditions also meant stops at deserted airports in Cambridge Bay, Yellowknife, and Edmonton for fuel.

  Edmonton was the most disturbing. More than a million people had lived in and around the city. The airport had been used by large commercial airliners. Thousands of passengers had passed through its terminal every day. But during the stop, not a single person was seen.

  As soon as the plane crossed the US border, Pax made his way up to the cockpit.

  “Strap in,” the pilot told him, pointing at the auxiliary jump seat. “Catching up to another storm.”

  The pilot’s name was Ian Lourdes, and he was dead right about the storm. Not more than a minute after Pax clicked his restraints into place and donned the headset hanging next to the seat, the plane was buffeted by a layer of unsettled air.

  Lourdes glanced back at Pax. “We’re about fifteen minutes out if your coordinates are correct.”

  “They are,” Pax said.

  “I sure as hell hope so. If they’re not, we won’t know until we’re too low to do anything about it.”

  Pax had given the flight crew the exact GPS coordinates for the end of the runway at the Ranch. With the storm, it was likely to have a fresh layer of snow, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Combi had landed in similar conditions on this trip.

  “Getting low on fuel again, too,” Lourdes said. “You sure there’s enough there to get us up in the air again?”

  “More than enough.” Pax hoped he was right. While the Ranch did normally maintain a large supply of aircraft fuel, there was no telling how many flights had been moving in and out in the wake of the outbreak.

  Right before they began their descent, the pilot flipped on the intercom and said, “Buckle up. We’re heading down.”

  “I should radio in now,” Pax said. “We don’t want to surprise anyone.”

  The copilot, Frank Kendrick, flicked a couple of switches and said, “Go for it.”

  “Bravo Four, this is Pax,” he said. “Bravo Four, this is Pax. Come in.”

  Static.

  “Bravo Four, come in. This is Pax.”

  Nothing.

  “Bravo Four, we are approaching your runway. Do you read?” He looked over at Kendrick. “You sure you have me dialed in right?”

  Kendrick read off the frequency. It was the same one Pax had given him.

  “Bravo Four, please come in.”

  “They’re not going to shoot at us if we try to land, will they?” Lourdes asked.

  “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” Pax said. The truth was, he had no idea what the hell was going on. The Ranch should have answered by now.

  “You’re sure the runway is where you said it is?” the pilot asked. The only things they could see were clouds.

  “Exactly where I said it is.”

  Lourdes nodded once, not looking reassured.

  “Bravo Four, this is Pax. We are about to land. Please respond.”

  Dead air.

  As Pax started to try again, they dropped out of the clouds into a swirl of snow. Pax craned his neck to get a better look out the window. They were at the Ranch all right. He recognized the valley.

  “You’re dead on,” he said. “Runway’s just ahead.”

  “I don’t see it,” Kendrick said.

  “It’s there. Trust me.”

  “Don’t have much of a choice now,” Lourdes said.

  “Five hundred feet,” Kendrick announced, reading off the altimeter. “Four seventy-five. Four fifty.”

  The countdown continued as they neared the runway.

  “Bravo Four, Bravo Four, this is Pax. We are coming in now. Bravo Four, do you read?”

  “Two seventy-five. Two fifty. Two twenty-five.”

  “Bravo Four! Bravo Four! Why aren’t you answering?”

  “One fifty. One twenty-five. One hundred.”

  There was no distinction between the runway and the meadows surrounding it. As long as Lourdes stuck to the coordinates, Pax knew they’d be all right, but the knowledge didn’t keep him from clenching up as the wheels sliced through the snowdrift and hammered onto the ground. The plane shook with the impact, but stayed moving in a straight line as the momentum slowed and finally died.

  “Told you it was there,” Pax said, smiling.

  He instructed Lourdes to bring the plane around and taxi to a spot to the side about halfway back. There, tucked behind a stand of trees, was the fuel supply. It was also where the road to the Lodge began.

  He couldn’t understand why no one was waiting for them. Even if the Ranch had somehow not heard his radio calls, a team should have been there to see who was on the plane.

  When the plane stopped, he told the others to remain on board and climbed down the retractable staircase. He pushed his way through the snow away from the aircraft, raised his arms, and waved them back and forth over his head.

  “It’s Pax!” he yelled. “Rich Paxton! You can come out!”

  The only movement he saw was snow falling.

  “Hello? Can you hear me? Tell Matt that Pax is back!”

  Silence.

  He tried a few more times b
efore returning to the plane.

  “I guess we’re going to have to hike in,” he said. He looked over at his men. “Tom, you’re with me. The rest of you help get the plane fueled up.”

  Decked out in the same winter gear they had used up in northern Canada, Pax and Tom Grady set off for the Lodge.

  The road, usually plowed in the winter, was now buried under two feet of snow, more in some places.

  “I don’t like this,” Tom said.

  Pax made no reply.

  The Lodge was a bit over a mile away, about a ten-minute hike on a nice summer day at a strong and steady pace. Under current conditions, it took them twice as long before they could see the trees thinning ahead, signaling the meadow where the Lodge was located.

  Knowing they were close, Pax couldn’t help but pick up his pace. He was anxious to see his friends again, to find out what had been going on. But as he stepped out from the trees, he stopped.

  The Lodge was gone. It should have been right there, but in its place was a pile of snow-covered, charred timbers.

  He looked toward the dorm building off to the side. Not there. Only another pile of debris.

  “Oh, my God!” Tom said, stepping out behind him. “What happened?”

  The answer to that was clear. The Lodge and the dorm had been destroyed. How and why, Pax had no idea.

  “This way,” Pax said. He cut across the meadow toward the woods on the other side.

  Had anyone been in the buildings when they went down? Were his friends—

  Stop it! he told himself. Those were questions that would only drive him crazy. What he needed was more information.

  By the time they reached the woods again, both men were panting but they kept going, weaving through the trees and slogging up the hill to the Bunker’s emergency entrance. It took Pax a few minutes before he found the configuration of trees he was looking for, but there was no need to pace off the correct distance to find the hatch. It was unburied and wide open.

  Keeping his fear in check, he knelt next to it and looked inside. Snow had piled up directly below the opening, but otherwise the tunnel was dark.

  He reached into the opening and felt along the wall near the ladder. When his fingers knocked against the switch, he flipped it up. Lights located along the top of the tunnel instantly drove the darkness away. At least the power was still working. That had to mean something, didn’t it?