Eden's Root (32 page)

“Ok,” he said. “Now we find what we need for Rachel. As long as you promise to be cautious,” his voice was firm. “Then I say we split up so we can get it done more quickly and get out of here before we run into any Others.”

She agreed. They had already worked out a meeting place and an estimated time, based on how far south they were going. They’d determined that they didn’t want to go south of the Park if it wasn’t needed. Fi childishly wished she could see the Village one more time, but resolved to focus on the goal, not her trip down Memory Lane. Sean gave her a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Be careful Fi!” he commanded her while she stood, stunned. His pack disappeared out the window behind his retreating figure and in a moment, Fi was alone. She stood in the darkened store in silence. A breeze blew outside and a paper rustled. Suddenly, she realized, she felt very alone. The sensation surprised her. Why would she feel alone, she wondered? She’d been separated from Sean on raids many times before. But she hadn’t been alone in a place like the City, her mind whispered…surrounded by unknown gangs.

Sean was right. This was a very dangerous situation. She pulled out her list and gave it one last review. The first location was one that she knew on the Upper East Side. She squeezed back out the window frame and pulled on her pack, smiling at its weight. There was still plenty of room in there, but they had done well. She had done well, she thought, proud of herself in that moment.

Twenty minutes later her pride had transformed to frustration as she rooted through the cabinets in the hospital pharmacy. C’mon, she thought to herself, keep moving. Shoving a rolling cart aside, Fi ripped open a locked cabinet with some weird metal thing she found. She scanned the shelves with her flashlight. Finding the antibiotics, anti-nausea, first-aid, and other supplies was easy. Fi had even located some narcotics, which was a relief because Maggie often had pain now.

The hard part was finding the specific chemo drugs for Rachel. This was the fourth hospital she’d hit on the East Side. At the first one she found a small supply of one of the drugs, but she hadn’t found any of the other, the one Doc really wanted. Hopefully Sean was having more luck on the West Side, she thought as she pushed several bottles aside, sending a cascade of plastic tumbling from the shelf.

“Shit!” she cursed under her breath as she kicked through the bottles on the floor. C’mon, she thought as she rummaged through them. Squinting at the bottles, Fi did her best to make out their names. Good Lord, all these ‘oxyls’ and ‘exates’ and ‘platins’ were making her eyes cross. She dug around in a top cabinet, banging her temple on the high open door in her hurry.

“Ow!” she whimpered, rubbing her head. Ok, she thought, I have to slow down. Slow down and be quick. Slow down and be quick. Fi repeated this mantra to herself, letting the words set a rhythm for her. She had worked through three shelving units, when she glimpsed a word that stopped her. Her heart pounded as she picked up the bottle. Fi’s head swung back and forth between the bottle and the crumpled list in her hand. Yes! Her heart soared and she jumped up and down mouthing ‘yes, yes, yes’ while the pills clattered inside the bottle. With a single sweep of her arm, she slid all the bottles into her pack and headed for the stairs. It was time to meet Sean. When she left the hospital she moved west, sliding from shadow to shadow.

She was moving at a steady clip when she suddenly froze, transfixed. You have to be kidding me, she groaned as she stared up at the distinct silver lettering of the sign shimmering in the hazy moonlight. She had always loved the art deco feeling of that sign. Torn, she knew she had to go, but she just couldn’t resist. Five minutes. She was firm with herself. Just five minutes. Fi slid through the door in silence and began counting the seconds inside her head as she raced up the escalator
. One-pause-two-pause-three-pause-four-pause…

When she reached the first floor and started to explore, she was amazed. Even in the darkness it was breathtaking, she thought as she fingered fabrics in the dark.
Two two- pause -Two three- pause -Two Four- pause -Two Five
…

There was little damage in the store and it was silent, so she took the risk to turn on her flashlight for short glances. It was minute three when she found it. Her fingers stroked the soft fur of the exquisite vest. It was soooooo soft. And it’s long, she thought as she held it against herself. This coat would keep Maggie warm, Fi reflected. And it was so beautiful. When she saw the tag, she felt a small pang of guilt. Whew, Dolce and Gabbana. Never in a million years could she have afforded this in the old world. Never mind, she thought, it was perfect for the new world.

What a wonderful thing it would be to give some beauty back to Maggie. She rolled the vest and tucked it into her pack. Fi zipped her pack and headed back out and onto the streets. An image of Maggie buttoned up snugly in that beautiful vest filled her mind, making her smile. The detour had been worth it. She headed west to meet Sean. Mission accomplished, she thought, pleased at her take.

----------- Asher -----------

The sun was setting on the City and the Dragons had to get ready for their night crawl. The name was apt, Asher thought. Raiding at night always meant crawling through the shadows with your adrenalin pumping. Though he really needed to conduct a quick scout before they left, as usual, he had to waste time corralling Conner first. Standing face to face in the middle of the warehouse’s lower level, Asher confronted him. Conner scowled.

“C’mon Asher,” he said, “I didn’t do anything to her but talk to her,” he whined, his tone conniving. “Besides she’s a cocktease anyway,” he mumbled and Asher roared, enraged. He strode closer to Conner until they were almost nose-to-nose.

“I am serious Conner,” Asher said, furious. “If I hear a single word about you talking to that girl, looking at her, even talking about her,” he said, drawing breath, “You are OUT!” He punctuated this by pointing upward toward the warehouse door. “And I don’t give a shit,” he said, poking Conner in the chest, “about your seniority.” Asher turned back toward the stairs to head out on his scouting trip.

“Oh yeah,” Conner shouted after him in defiance. “I still don’t remember who died and left you in charge.” Asher froze and turned. As he walked back, his hand reached behind him for the sword strapped to his back.

“Would you like me to remind you why I’m in charge?” he sneered. Conner frowned and folded his arms.

“Freaking white ninja psycho,” he cursed, annoyed, and Asher laughed.

“You still don’t get it Conner.” Asher’s tone was derisive. “That’s why I’m in charge.” He shook his head and gestured toward the part of the gang that was lounging on the boxes and barrels they’d set up as furniture. Several of the men watched their interaction with a smirk. “Because no one will follow you if you act like a psychopath all the time.” Asher turned away again. Over his shoulder he said, “It’s getting dark, make yourself useful Conner and get ready for our night crawl.” The metal stairs rang as Asher stomped up to the street level.

Useful, Asher thought to himself as he stomped toward the stairs to the street level. Yes, in the City, Conner was very useful. Every gang needed to have its crueler members, because all of the gangs were dangerous. It was amazing how many of the gangs in the city had actual gang members from before the Famine. Regardless, everyone was hardened by conditions. Asher had seen the worst things imaginable this year. He’d learned that anyone could be capable of anything, given dire enough circumstances.

He had spent the first few weeks in the City alone, but after being ambushed at least ten times in five days, it became obvious forming groups was necessary to survival. It was too vulnerable being alone, even for a well-prepared fighter like him. Unfortunately, Asher thought as he slipped outside the warehouse into the dusk light, the psychos outnumber the rest of us. He’d had to make trade-offs, like Conner. He knew that if you didn’t keep some of your violent types around, your gang would be murdered. That was the simple truth.

On the street Asher moved without sound, stopping to listen for several minutes at a time. Nothing stirred. As night fell, the gangs were headed underground, literally. Many lived in the subways overnight. You would think with all the pretty buildings that they would do it differently, but the entrances to small subway stations were easily guarded, and that was an advantage. Plus the skyscrapers and apartment complexes were a trap, with thousands of stairs in the mix. No way you want to get stuck fighting there.

Other gangs like Asher’s lived in warehouses because they were easily defended and could house a large gang. Most of the gangs moved during the day, avoiding the vulnerability of night. At night they hunkered down, defending their stash and their people. Keeping watch. Of course, the most psychotic of them could not be counted on to do predictable things. The threat of violence was constant.

Satisfied that the gangs were bedding down, Asher turned to trot back to his own gang. He sighed, wishing once again that he could get rid of Conner, but acknowledging that he needed him. They already had to take the risk of raiding and scouting at night because they didn’t have enough manpower to defend their gang. Asher shook his head. Conner was actually right that this was his fault, he knew. He remembered their fights on the topic vividly.

“You can’t keep banishing or killing the strongest men in our gang Ash,” Conner had been vehement.

“Conner, I can’t just let whack jobs in our gang threaten and murder each other like animals either,” he’d defended himself.

His gang had gone through members like tissues as they fought with each other, like dogs with a bone. There were some he’d had to expel and some who had simply disappeared in the night. But ultimately, Conner was right. Only the strong survive, that was just the way it was now. There were so few people in his gang who were worthwhile people that at times he wasn’t sure why he stayed in the City at all.

Before he ducked back inside the warehouse, he stopped to look up at the stars beginning to glimmer above him. It helped to maintain these moments of silence, of clarity, he reflected. No one left him alone when he was at home. It was exhausting being the Leader. He never got a break.

Still, he knew the reason he didn’t leave the City. Better to face the devil you know than the devil you don’t, he thought. Because no matter how bad it was, he had no idea what was out there, beyond the City’s boundaries. With a heavy exhale, Asher turned into the warehouse. Time for another night crawl, he thought with resignation.

----------- Sean -----------

Four hours later, huddled in a nearby shadow, Sean shifted around in silence. Fi still had not reached the meeting point, and he waited for her with his gun drawn, but lowered. He hated that gun, he thought, sighing in the dark, but it made his heart lighter that he’d found some drugs for Rachel. Without warning, Sean felt several hands grab him from behind.

“Mmmphmmmph!” his cry was strangled when a hand clapped itself over his mouth. He struggled and thrashed to get into fighting position, to free himself, but there were too many of them. The Glock clattered out of his hand.

Though he couldn’t be sure in the darkness, it seemed like there were three attackers. The tallest one got him down on the ground and he heard the telltale sound of duct tape ripping off the roll as they bound his hands behind his back.

“Hey,” he protested as they flipped him and sealed his mouth with the duct tape. It was so tight that it pulled his face and made it hard to breathe even through his nose. Adrenalin coursed through him, sending his heart beat through the roof. Trying to remain calm, Sean focused on strategy. Of the three, only the tall one seemed to give orders and the others obeyed. He must be the Leader, Sean noted. Rough hands dragged him up by his bound arms, and pain shot through his shoulders. They shoved him along, half pushing and half dragging him forward through the doorway to the buildings behind them.

There was broken glass everywhere. In the darkness Sean could feel it crunching underfoot. He tried counting steps but lost track as he stumbled along. The gang members who had him seemed sure of their steps, even in the dark. Sean realized that this must be familiar territory…their territory he thought, shivering with nerves. Whatever they planned to do with them, he doubted it would be good. What was worse was that Fi was still out there. His fears for her suddenly sent him into a near panic. What if she had been captured as well? He prayed that she would leave him, as they had agreed while planning for this raid.

After mapping out their possible meet-up points, Sean had suggested limiting the time one of them waits for the other, in case of possible capture or even murder by Others. Neither of them had ever suggested a step this extreme before, but this raid was going to be different, they both knew.

“I won’t have it,” Fi had said, shaking her head at him. “I won’t have one of us leave the other behind, no way,” she insisted.

Sean had sighed. “Fi, be realistic. That is all I’m trying to do here,” he had said with his usual level-headedness. “Do you really believe that it pleases me to suggest a course where I leave you behind?” In the end Fi had agreed, and now Sean was thankful. He prayed that she was fine and that she would simply leave to go back to the Family. His worst nightmare, the thing that made his heart truly race, he realized, was the fear that Fi would come looking for him. As he was shoved down a dark staircase he whimpered, just slightly, at the thought. One of the two hulks grabbing him by the arms snickered.

“What,” he sneered, “is the little baby going to cry?” he laughed and then shoved Sean forward. In the darkness, he tripped and fell hard, twisting to land on his side on the way down.

“Mmmppppf,” his nose grunted above the strip of thick tape as his shoulder hit the ground.

Jesus that had hurt, he thought, beginning to worry more about his own situation and the immediate pain that could be coming. He didn’t know what to expect, but he’d seen enough of cruel Others to be truly frightened. They came to a stop and as Sean stood shaking, a metal scraping sound broke the silence. The same man who pushed Sean to the ground gave him another shove, causing the tall figure to chide him.