Eden (32 page)

“Call me Mace,” he says. “Except for you, Maaka,” he hollers over his shoulder. “And you’re the survivors of Flight 316?” His voice brims with skepticism.

“Yes. We crashed in the Tasman Sea and washed up near what I assume is Kahurangi National Park. From there, we hiked through the mountains and that’s when we came across Maaka and the remains of his fishing crew. They helped us to get here to Shetland.”

“Hold on mate,” the inspector raises his left hand to the air. “You mean there’s more of you?” His face mirrors the concern in his voice.

“Yes, we have two people upstairs and another nine just outside the village, holed up in an abandoned farmhouse about a few kilometers north. But I have to ask, what the bloody hell happened here?”

The inspector shakes his head in disbelief. “You really have no idea, do you?” He places his hand over his mouth as his index finger moves across his thick black mustache. “Lord, have mercy.”

Mason stands in the middle of the room. Holding the shotgun casually to his side, he rests the barrel on the floor, and leans against it slightly, as if using it as a crutch.

“There’s nothing left,” he blurts suddenly, his voice cracking. “I’ve been in this building for the past six days and I haven’t left — nor do I intend to. Because I know what’s out there. And I don’t how you made it this far. But I can tell you this, if there’s anyone else out there, they’re as good as gone.”

*************

As if in a nightmare, Mia is held captive in her brother’s consciousness. She tries to break through to him as he continues to press on through the black forest. She doesn’t know how he ended up here, alone and away from the others. And how could he think this was actually okay? Her brother had always been a mystery wrapped in a riddle, traipsing merrily through life, unscathed by an endless procession of near-death experiences. No thanks to her. Some he had known about, but his knowledge of most had been limited to a few scratches and the occasional bruised ego. What Mia is certain of now is that each step after agonizing step is bringing him one beat closer to her latest vision becoming reality. She knows, beyond a shadow of doubt, that Max is in danger, real danger, unlike anything he has ever known before. And what’s worse, there’s nothing she can do to save him.

A few days ago, she had told him about her vision. They had been sitting away from the others during a break in the endless hiking. His reaction had been classic Max, all rolling eyes and pained expressions. It didn’t help that she told him it was snowing. She hopes against hope that he will be able to connect the dots and recognize the scene she described to him before it comes to pass. But she realizes that is highly unlikely as she is certain that he hadn’t been listening.

And now, it’s too late,
Oh God, NO!
Mia shudders.

At the end of the woods lies a clearing trampled with footsteps going every which way. A small row of mobile homes stands dark and quiet. She wishes she would have known this detail in advance; it might have made a difference.

“Go back Max! Go back!” Her screams elicit zero response.

And then suddenly, Mia sees her. In the middle of the road, wearing nothing but a nightshirt, her wet strands of golden hair glowing white in the twilight, just as she has seen so many times before.

“Oh my God, Max, just RUN! Run back, PLEASE!” Mia begs, sobbing hysterically.

Max shines the flashlight on the back of the kneeling girl’s dingy nightshirt, white with little pink hearts and stained all over with black soot. The little girl’s back is to Max and as he nears he notices the girl playing in a black oily puddle apparently dragging her hand across it and drinking its contents. The sight repulses Max and he can’t help but wonder why she is all alone.

Standing just a few feet away, he calls out to her: “Hey, little girl? Are you alright?”

The moment is too much for Mia to bear. From the most desolate, darkest corner of her tortured soul, she unleashes a scream so loud that it could wake the dead. “Ruuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

As if waking from a dream, Max is startled by his sister’s voice. He takes a step backward. As he does, the little girl turns. She has the face of a ghoul, with two weeping sores for eyes, her dirty little cheeks stained with blood and tears. Her mouth is open, snarled and terrifying, with a mixture of white foamy spit and blood dripping from her chin. The hand she had been dragging across the puddle was not her own, but another’s, freshly ripped from her victim’s wrist. She suckles the cold dead fingers like teats, greedily lapping the coagulated blood. She stands hissing at her next kill and as she does, Max can see the severed head of a man lying in the black pool; his eyes are missing and his bottom jaw remains hidden, submerged in the viscous gore.

Suddenly, another presence emerges from behind one of the trailers, as if it had been waiting in the shadows. The same woman he had followed through the woods now stands before him on the path. Her shoulders are slumped over and her body leans oddly forward. She utters a low rumbling growl just before she charges toward him like a rabid dog. She is naked and skeletal, her claws lunging toward him with murderous intent. Warm waves of piss course down Max’s trouser legs, and without another moment to spare he flees in horror.

The days of heavy hiking have strengthened his step and he manages the terrain as if running on a track. The ghouls give chase, or so he assumes — he doesn’t dare look behind him, hoping with all his heart that he never sets eyes on those monsters again. Although he is certain that they will haunt his dreams for all of eternity. Flying through the woods, he turns sharply, artfully dodging tree trunks and limbs in full stride, all while trying to figure out the way back to the farmhouse.

*************

The sound of Mia’s bloodcurdling shriek was heard throughout the entire building and, within moments of hearing it, Noah bursts into the conference room, the Beretta gripped in his hands. He finds Mia unconscious and lying on the floor, Pango lightly slapping her face with his huge paw. He looks up at Noah with terrified eyes.

“I didn’t do anything to her, mate. I swear!”

Noah nods and stows the pistol in the small of his back as he comes closer. “I believe you,” he says, his voice clear and calm. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I know bugger all! We were just having a yack, and then all of a sudden she got real quiet, and then I was like,
are you alright,
and her eyes were open but she was, like, asleep or something, and then she started crying, and then she screamed so loud I thought she was going to break the goddamn windows and then she just fainted. That’s it. That’s all that happened, mate. I swear.”

“It’s okay Pango, just breathe. I’ve got it from here, thanks.” Noah scoops Mia in his arms and cradles her while he uncaps his canteen and flings water on her face.

“What happened?” asks Hiroshi, breathless, as he and Inspector
Harris
burst into the room.

“She screamed and then fainted, apparently. She is clearly exhausted and most likely dehydrated.”

“Well as I live and breathe, Pango Simmonds,” Mason says. “I should have figured you would be here too, after crossing paths with Maaka.”

He walks toward his old nemesis with the shotgun leaning across his shoulder. Pango avoids eye contact with the inspector and stares at the ground, burying his mitts in his back pockets.

“What did you do to him? You didn’t throw him in the
Birdcage
did you?” Pango mumbles, clearly intimidated by the sight of the lawman.

The inspector’s eyes come alive. “Oh, that’s right!” He laughs cruelly. “I almost forgot. I swore if I ever saw you two blokes in this town again, I would throw both of you in the hole, didn’t I?” He toys with the giant like a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Something like that,” Pango admits.

Mia bats her eyes and places her hands on either side of her head, massaging her temples. “Whoa, what happened?” she asks in a soft whisper.

“I was hoping you could tell us,” Noah says, handing her the canteen.

She takes a long drink of water and then leans forward. “It happened,” she whispers into Noah’s ear. “My vision about Max and the little girl, the one I told you about. It was horrible.” She begins to cry.

“Is he okay? Was he alone? What about the others?”

Mia shakes her head. “I don’t know. He was alone, I think. I don’t know why though. I was in his head again, and I tried to warn him, but I don’t know if it actually worked. When I screamed, I lost my connection to him. And I can’t feel anything now.” She pauses for a few moments before continuing. “We are all in danger and we have to get out of here as soon as possible… if it isn’t too late already.”

She closes her eyes, and Noah can feel her strength diminishing; her limbs go limp until she is nothing but dead weight in his arms again. Her warning sends a cold shiver down Noah’s spine and his mind reels for a plan. He looks at his watch and frowns — he has eighty-eight minutes to get back to the others. Time is running out.

*************

Evelyn paces back and forth across an empty porch, praying for the safe return of the missing flock. The fact that Max has wandered off is maddening enough, but what concerns her more is that Noah has yet to return. If he doesn’t, she will be forced to lead the others into the wilderness or defy her husband’s orders. Her uneasiness escalated dramatically when Mia insisted that she go along with Noah.

As much as she cares for the enigmatic girl, she knows that wherever Mia goes trouble is sure to follow. She tries to put that aside for now and focus on the matter at hand: finding the wayward Max.
Why the hell would he do this now?
Her blood boils when she thinks about how she specifically told him to stay close by.
Was this because Mia went with Noah or is there something else afoot?
She had detected a hint of jealously but certainly that wouldn’t set him off,
or would it?

She pauses in her pacing to gaze out at the endless grey fields. She can make out Atua, who is holding a flashlight. He is the farthest one out, but still within earshot of the farmhouse. He is flanked by Kaewa and Jacob, thirty paces on either side of him, and somewhere near the barn is Luna. She doesn’t like that Luna is not within her sight, but she knows that she won’t wander far. When Alice stormed into the house and informed her what had happened, Evelyn had ordered Jacob to tell Luna to come back inside, but she had staunchly refused. Feeling personally responsible for Max’s disappearance, Luna is determined to search until Max is safe.

Shouts for Max ring out as visibility fades to zero. She turns to face the farmhouse, where the others wait with their faces pressed against the windows. This only saddens her more — their dirty faces and tired eyes — and she can see that the fragmented remains of their hope are finally gone. They have been forsaken. She glances at her watch, not that she needs to; the seconds have been ticking in her head for hours. She closes her eyes and can’t help but hear the words Luna said to her earlier this morning:
This just keeps getting worse.

*************

Eyes at half-mast, toggling between consciousness and desperate sleep, Mia hears fragments of a conversation. The only thing she is sure of is that she’s someplace she’s never been before. She rests on a single bed, a comfort that her weary body has not known for what seems to be a very long time.

A howl breaches the darkness: “Oh Birdcage, you cruel mistress. I missed you, bitch!” The voice is unmistakably Maaka’s.

The Birdcage, as it’s known by its occupants, is the dungeon, guarded by thick steel bars, with no windows and even less hope. The stockade is positioned in the middle of the room, and an official-looking sign announces its capacity is forty-four occupants. It can only be entered by a square sliding steel door, which is currently open. With her strength gone, she is unable to lift her head, and so allows her mind’s eye to wander through the basement and float sleepily above the network of steel that crisscrosses at the center to form an X.

“We lost all communication days ago. But before that happened, the World Health Organization sounded the pandemic alert. By then it was too late — there were already reports of viral outbreaks everywhere.”

Mia doesn’t recognize the man’s gruff voice. Slowly, she drifts toward the sound of others, unchained and weightless, moving like a feather beyond her prison walls.

“… news reports of explosions and disasters followed one after the other, all around the world like a blitzkrieg...”

Her vision sways to and fro and then spirals down.

“We were given the order to evacuate but we never had a chance…”

“They came by the hundreds, from out of nowhere,” a woman’s voice interrupts. “Pulling people out of their cars and from their homes, ripping them apart like rag dolls.”

High above the others, slipping in and out of consciousness, Mia fixates for a moment on a stretch of concrete near the bottom of the steps, where she sees a large pool of blood spreading across the floor. Within the same moment, it disappears.
Am I dreaming?