Eve of Man (The Harvest Book 2) (30 page)

The cabin of the plane was maximized for comfort on
long flights. Four large leather chairs faced each other. Austin sat in one
facing the door and was pleasantly surprised to find it reclined. The
temperature in the cabin was a balmy sixty-five degrees. Zack had assured him
leaving the heater on was not a problem, since it ran on its own batteries. While
munching on cold spam and crackers, Austin looked over a map of Russia. Oymyakon
was his destination. An air strip built back during WWII was where he’d land.
From there he would travel by whatever means he could find. By foot if nothing
else was available. He knew at some point by foot was going to be his only
choice. He folded the map and tucked it in his backpack. The recliner fit him
perfectly and within minutes he was sound asleep.

Late into the night the wind picked up, crashing into
the hangar with gale force gusts. The metal groaned, threatening to give.
Inside the insulated cabin of the plane Austin heard a different wind, not from
outside the hangar, but from inside his dream, walking on the Kolyma Highway in
Russia.

M56 Kolyma Highway, the Road of Bones, ran through the
Far East of Russia. Constructed during the Stalin era by labor camp inmates,
the road stretched twelve hundred miles. Inmates were sent to the road to die,
and thousands did perish during the construction period. The road signified the
end of the Earth. Many years later, people settled there in hopes of striking
it rich, only to become stuck, never to leave.

Austin walked down the Road of Bones, ignoring the wind’s
angry howls. The inmates who’d worked the road, faded in and out of view,
ghosts of long ago, wearing expressions of hopelessness and desperation. Up
ahead he could see the Lena River, where a ferry bobbed about at the shore. A
hunched backed man, who had paper thin skin covered in dark liver spots,
operated the ferry. Austin climbed on board, dropping a gold coin into the operator’s
outstretched hand.

Parking himself at the far end of the ferry, Austin stared
out across the Lena to the opposite shores where more spirits moved about,
dancing dances of lives lived long gone. He’d traveled between worlds before, between
that of the living and the dead, but Eve had always been his guide. He did not
feel her presence with him now. They floated across the Lena amidst thrashing
waves and blustery winds threatening to toss them overboard. Austin stood solid
on the deck watching the water rise and fall. This semi-state of consciousness
caused him no fear, only anticipation. Not seeing Eve bothered him more than he
cared to think about. If she wasn’t guiding him, then something had gone
terribly wrong and death might be all that he found at the end of this journey.

On the banks Austin caught a glimpse of a man dressed
in white, who had solid white eyes and dark brown skin. Despite his unusual
appearance and that he stood bent over leaning on a cane, Austin sensed he was
an Adita. The man raised an arm beckoning to Austin, urging him to come along,
to follow. The man jerked his head up to the sky. Out of the mist a Svan
swooped down sinking its great talons onto the man’s head, ripping it from his
body. His arm continued to beckon before his body toppled over into the water.

Austin sat up with a start. The image of the man’s
headless body bobbing down the river stayed with him briefly before fading
away. The man was familiar, but Austin was sure they’d never met. The man
didn’t look like an Adita, but Austin had no doubt he was, despite his unusual appearance.
Austin sighed and laid back. Of one more thing he was certain, the man was there
to help him find Eve. Of another thing he was certain, she needed his help and
this time it wasn’t on any premise. The only thing he still had no sense of was
the whereabouts of his son. The boy seemed to have vanished. Austin shook away
the fear this brought. If he found eve, he would find Caleb. 

Three hours were between him and daylight. Sleep would
not be his anymore that night. He turned on the overhead reading lamp and
pulled a journal and pen from his pack. He flipped through the pages stopping
on a page dated November sixteenth. It was the day he’d found Luke. The words
swam around on the page. He turned until the pages were blank, past all the
moments and memories of Luke and Madison.

Putting pen to paper Austin began to write. He wrote
about saving Ed, meeting Zack and Colin, about Charlie, and the Adita. He
skipped writing about Madison’s death. There would be a better time for that than
at the present. After three hours his journal was caught up to the point of meeting
General Roth and his watch read 4:57. The suns would make their appearance in a
few minutes. It was time to fly. He’d put Eve and Caleb out of his mind while
writing, intentionally leaving pages blank to return to later. He needed to
approach this search like any other mission, unemotional, unattached, and
focused on the details.

***

Austin opened the hangar doors pulled the plane out
onto the runway using the refueling truck. He returned to Barney’s office. He
felt like he should say something, but in the end he slipped Barney’s ring from
his finger and dropped it in his own pocket. He didn’t do this out of spite or
because he liked the ring, but because of the future. A future where nothing of
what used to be remained, even if what used to be wasn’t an altogether pleasant
memory, Austin still wanted to remember.

Out on the runway Austin warmed up the plane’s
engines. After fifteen minutes the plane was ready for takeoff and he taxied
down the runway. As the plane ascended into the gray, Austin didn’t look back
or feel regret over not visiting his home. The town of Deadbear was a piece of
his history he didn’t mind leaving behind.

Flying low over the Bering Strait, Austin imagined
Kyle swimming through the waters, walking across the jagged ice, spending the
night on the island of the dead. He took a moment to admire his brother’s
tenacity and bravery, to feel pride that they were family. As he approached Russia,
Kyle’s Mercedes came into view, sitting at the edge of the sea. A lonesome,
desperate image.

Austin continued towards the ends of the Earth,
towards the Lena River and a ferry boat run by the undead. On the other side of
that river he’d find Eve and Caleb. Relying on hope, wishing on stars, praying
to unseen gods, all of these were unnecessary conveyances and never his way. He
would find them. His certainty in this was a feeling, an instinct, something
that couldn’t be explained with words.

The Oymyakon runway appeared in the distance. A narrow
strip of land provided for a tight landing to work with, but at least the path
was clear. The plane descended, touching down and coming to a stop without
incident. A rush of relief didn’t flood his senses, he’d no no anxiety to wash
away. He was calm and ready.

Inside a small hangar, a brief search turned up a BMW
motorcycle with keys in the ignition and gas in the tank. Austin poured the
last bottle of fuel additive into the bike’s tank and jumped on. He carried a
backpack, a sleeping bag and nothing else. If the bike started he’d have a
ride. If not, he’d walk. The bike turned on the third try to which Austin was
appreciative, but didn’t take his gratitude so far as to thank anyone or
consider himself lucky.

In no time at all he was riding down The Road of
Bones, which proved every bit as treacherous as he’d read about and experienced
in his dream. The inmates didn’t visit from the afterworld and when he arrived
at the ferry, a half bent man wasn’t waiting to take him across. No matter
anyway, the river was frozen around the ferry and of no use in crossing over.
The bike was another thing to consider. The river, although frozen, appeared a
treacherous travel by foot, let alone on a bike. In the end the bike was left
behind, hidden on the ferry just in case.

Crossing the river took longer than expected and when
he finally reached the shores on the other side, Austin jogged in order to make
up time. An hour later he approached a mining village where a handful of shacks
remained standing. He chose the one at the farthest end closest to the
foothills. The shack wasn’t pretty or even weather proof, but he didn’t care.
The cold didn’t bother him so much anymore.

  Inside he found a single room sparingly furnished that
served as the bedroom, living room and kitchen. To his surprise he also found a
small bathroom, but no running water. He set his things in the corner facing
the door. After another dinner of spam and crackers, Austin climbed into his
sleeping bag and fell asleep, anxious to see the white haired being again. He
wasn’t disappointed as his sleep was filled with vivid dreams, of visits to the
worlds in-between, of strange sights and stranger beings. Some worlds were
misty and cold, others dry and hot. 

In the latter he came upon the white haired man.
Wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a t-shirt wrapped around his
head, Austin trudged across desert dunes. He stood upon one of the tallest peaks
and gazes out over an endless sea of sand, a static brown ocean. Down below the
man waited. He looked up to Austin and opened his arms wide. Before Austin
could react, the desert swallowed itself, taking the man and Austin into its
gaping black hole. They were deposited on top of the Siberian Mountains. He looked
for the man, but he was nowhere to be found. This was not important. Austin knew
this was where he would find Eve.

As soon as this thought entered his mind Austin awoke.
He lay still waiting for his mind to clear. His watch read 2:05. He knew this
without having to check. Outside the wind blew in gusts, each one rocking the
shack’s thin walls. Amazed the structure held up this long, Austin buried
himself deeper in his sleeping bag and allowed his mind to drift back into a
deep slumber. The man with the white hair did not return, he’d accomplished his
task, all that remained was for Austin to follow through and do his part.

***

The Siberian Mountains weren’t any less intimidating
from the ground than from eight thousand feet up looking down. A narrow path led
Austin into the hills. He walked for two hours listening to the sound of his
boots crunching the snow. The place was desolate, where a man’s thoughts might
overwhelm him, but Austin didn’t mind the quiet or his thoughts. He was focused
on the task, the mission, on Eve and Caleb.

The path narrowed, winding its way up into the hazardous
terrain of the mountains. A gentle mist swirled about his feet giving the illusion
of walking on air. As when he’d entered the great temple hidden in the jungles
of Paru, Austin felt the presence of the supernatural, which indicated to him Eve
must be close. Although he sensed her, he couldn’t hear her. The farther up and
in he traveled, the stronger the connection became. Soon the mist was up to his
knees, tugging at his legs with invisible hands, whispering to him in a sweet
seductive voice. Gruesome images floated in and out of view. Austin kept
moving. One step after another, turning a blind eye and deaf ear to the spirit
world.   

At the turn in the path, where the precipices rose to magnificent
heights, diminishing everything below, a wave of pain so excruciating knocked
the air from Austin’s lungs. He fell to his knees gasping for air. Desperate
seconds expired.
Focus man. Focus. It’s not your pain. It’s not real.
After repeating this over and over the pain subsided, and he could breathe
again. From his pack he grabbed an energy packet and squeezed the contents into
his mouth. His hands shook. He squeezed his fingers into a fist, opening and
closing them until the shakes subsided. He swallowed the goo sitting on his
tongue and waited.

From his kneeling position on the ground Austin sat
with his head bowed. Remnants of pain lingered in his muscles causing him to
hesitate, to not want to move too soon. A deep breath of crisp air burned
inside his lungs. He released the air, went to draw another when a sudden
awareness caused him to pause. He stared at the path beneath him, at the
crystals making up each and every snow flake, every particle of ice unique in
shape and design. The ice crystals did not interest him, they were a focusing mechanism.
An excuse to not lift his head, to not see what caught his eye’s view right
before the pain struck him down. Minutes ticked by, but a second was all that
mattered. The second required to raise his head, to look up and see. Austin got
up on his feet, but he didn’t look, not yet. Images of what he’d seen, although
brief, were very clear. Images of Eve. He wanted to shake them away, to not
believe what his mind was telling him, but the truth couldn’t be dismissed. 

Facing the truth was man’s most difficult task and
greatest weakness. Great amounts of energy were put into avoiding truths, into
creating false realities in order to cope with the harshness life throws our
way, at times seemingly at random. Austin didn’t fall into this category of
men, but sometimes even he wavered when faced with the unthinkable. Breathing
in, he forced himself to look ahead. 

Before veering off in another direction, the path he
was on met a sheer wall of thick ice that extended up the side of the mountain.
Spiked poles lined the path up to the wall and upon each pole a head was
impaled. The eyes of the dead cried tears of blood. Blood oozed from the
shredded flesh of what remained of the neck. Ignoring the heads, Austin moved
closer to the wall. A gap, perhaps five feet in width, separated the mountain
from the path. Austin stopped at the edge and gazed at Eve’s face frozen behind
the ice. He reached out to her, but his foot slipped on the edge, sending
debris tumbling into the abyss below. A moment of uncertainty before reclaiming
his balance went unnoticed. His mind repeated over and over.
This can’t be
.
She can’t be dead.
Yet he knew, with no level of uncertainty, if they
beheaded her, and from all appearances this was the case, no other conclusion could
be arrived at other than death.  If Eve was dead, then what of his son? The
answer to this he couldn’t bear to consider.