Project Aquarius (The Sensitives Series Book 1) (16 page)

All was quiet in the back of the van. It was the uncomfortable kind of quiet.

Cyril’s eyes flicked up to the rearview and saw that his captive had fallen asleep. For the moment everything was perfect. Cyril’s stomach rumbled. The only thing that would make the moment more perfect was a cheeseburger. He let himself daydream about the first savory bite–– salty meat oozing with grease. That’s when it all went to hell.

Suddenly, a figure jumped out of the bushes right in front of the van, then two more appeared in quick succession! Cyril slammed on the breaks and swerved, narrowly missing the human targets. His seat belt yanked tight, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

William yelped, “What the hell?” from the back.

The van fishtailed, instinctively, Cyril turned the wheel sharply, throwing the van into a spin. The back end swung round and round, crossing the yellow line in a dizzying pirouette. Finally, the vehicle came to a rest in the opposite lane.

Adrenaline coursed through Cyril’s body. He looked wide-eyed through the windshield at the three children who were standing in the middle of the road.

They stared back in mute surprise.

“Hey… Hey, there are kids!” William shouted. “Some kids survived!”

“Shut up,” Cyril instructed. He had no need for Captain Obvious in the back. Slowly, Cyril unbuckled his belt and opened the door. “Stay in the van and don’t move.”

He closed the driver side door with a slam. Feeling his two feet on the pavement gave Cyril new confidence. Maybe he was going to fulfill his orders after all. Children were much easier to manipulate than adults.

“Hey, there. Good afternoon,” he said, attempting to ooze with charm.

He had to be friendly. After all, he was the creepy stranger with the van and he did intend to kidnap these children, all in the name of science, of course.

“Is everybody okay? Everyone alright?” Cyril asked with fake concern.

The kids stood frozen with their mouths hanging open. One of the boys took a step forward. Easy prey.

“You leave us alone, ” he asserted. He was the bravest of the bunch, petite, but clearly in charge. Cyril made a mental note to take out the leader first.

“You kids okay out here? Where are you staying? Are there more survivors?”

The other one, the scrawny boy, took the bait. “Yeah, we’re staying right over there,” he said pointing beyond the trees.

“Shut up,” the brave boy elbowed the small one.

“Where are your parents? Is there an adult with you?” Cyril asked trying to gauge the threat of the situation.

“You ask too many questions,” said the leader.

Cyril took a moment to rethink his approach. “You kids hungry? Thirsty? I have some food and water in the van.”

The girl inched forward. Cyril had her hooked, but then the leader held out his arm to stop her.

“You can just take it,” Cyril offered. He walked back to the van and slid open the rear passenger door only a crack. He shot William a threatening shut-up look. There wasn’t much in the van by way of supplies, but Cyril had stashed two bottles of water and a bag of beef jerky in the back. He grabbed the goods and gingerly slid the door, careful not to let it close completely.

“Here you go!” he said as he held out the supplies to the children.

Instantly, the girl ran forward and grabbed at the water bottle.

“Kitty, no!” the leader yelled.

She fumbled with the cap, and chugged the water, excess dripping off her chin. Clearly, the girl was thirsty.

Cyril had to act fast. He took two large steps forward and grabbed the girl under her armpits, throwing her off balance. Quickly, he spun around and dragged her back to the van. He used gentle force, like Master Shin had taught him for dealing with children in the aftermath. The girl was focused so intently on clutching the water bottle in her hand that she forgot to struggle for a moment, her legs dead weight on the pavement.

“Kitty, kick him in the nuts!” the leader suggested with gusto.

The encouragement snapped the girl into action. She pulled one arm out of Cyril’s grasp, flailing wildly. To counter, Cyril lurched forward and grabbed her in a bear hug, his large arms immobilizing her. She let out a high-pitched wail.

While bear hugging the girl, Cyril used his foot to slide open the van door and attempted to push her inside. He stuffed Kitty’s legs into the van, but she used the leverage to slam the back of her head into his teeth. The first blow dazed Cyril, but he held on. The girl acted again, head butting ferociously, blow after blow, screaming all the while. The leader was on him now too, tugging at Cyril’s arm, scratching his hands, and throwing punches at his torso. When the leader bit his forearm, Cyril’s hands betrayed him and let go. Kitty fell to the pavement.

In an instant, she was up. And all three kids jumped into the brush and took off.

Cyril had to think quickly. He reached in his pocket and retrieved the digital camera. Somehow, he snapped a pic right before the kids got out of eyesight. Three figures running into the woods would be at least a shred of evidence.

Cyril’s burning rage was intense now and his arm was horribly inflamed from the bite. He reached in the van and flipped on the exterior speakers. They screeched with crackling feedback.

“I know you can hear me you little jerks. I’m coming back to get you. I’m a man of my word, so you should be very afraid of me.” Cyril paused to suck in air through his teeth. “I’m the one who caused this destruction. I’m in charge of your lives now. I’m the God you cry to at night.” Saying it out loud felt delicious and real. “I love how wild-eyed you got… Kitty, was it? What an adrenaline rush! I’m coming back for you Kitty and your two pre-pubescent friends. And I can’t wait!”

***

When Cyril and William arrived back at headquarters, Master Shin was wearing his headset and biting his lip. That was never a good sign. The Master motioned for them to take a seat inside his glass office. He was pacing back and forth, gesticulating wildly to the person on the other end of the call. Cyril did his best to listen to the parts he could understand— anger sounded the same in Mandarin as it did in English.

“I told you, our devices were designed to disrupt electrical activity in the human body as well as machines, ensuring infrastructure collapse. Our EMPs were calibrated to send out a shockwave at a high frequency that disrupts the brain and causes aneurysms in non-Sensitives.”

He repeated the same information in Mandarin, but the word non-Sensitive remained in English.

“Thirty percent. That’s what our research indicated. And now the numbers are showing only five percent in the Northeast…”

There was more yelling in Mandarin.

“The radii of the blasts were carefully crafted… Roughly 100 miles… an order for more than twice the number of machines in the Northeast? The cities are too close together in this part of the country. The blast zones would have overlapped. I never would have ordered that… Who?”

The Master’s eyes hardened on Cyril. He clicked the phone to dial tone.

“Do you have any idea the repercussions of your little plan change? How this is going to effect the sale? How this is going to effect our futures? I thought you knew better.”

Cyril’s knees wobbled as he spoke. “Sir, I helped to push evolution in the right direction. I ensured that only The Gifted remain. The remaining five percent are guaranteed evolved Sensitives. No detritus.”

The Master shook his head in disgust as he paced a well-worn groove in the carpet. “That wasn’t the point of our experiment, Cyril. That was never the intended point of The Pulse. You have no idea what you’ve done.”

Sweat rolled off of Cyril’s brow. What was The Master saying? It made no sense. Pushing forward the evolution of advanced humanity was always the point. Eliminating those that were less than was essential to ensure the heritability of advantageous genes. They were ushering the human race toward the future. They had merely used science to speed up nature and guarantee a desirable outcome.

“I was a fool to trust you,” the Master said in a harsh whisper.

The Master would come around, Cyril told himself. He just couldn’t see the advantages yet.

The Master’s gaze darted toward William, his eyes lingering on the improvised handcuffs. “Who’s this?”

“The only survivor at the Worcester station,” Cyril said with a shrug. He had learned the Master’s anger could be tempered with vagueness and brevity. Let him draw his own conclusions.

“This is it?” the Master questioned, giving a head nod to the blubbering figure in the corner. William was slumped against the wall, crying, zip-tied hands behind him.

“That’s not everything. Here is the evidence I found. I think you will be quite pleased, Master.” Cyril handed the digital camera to his boss, hands trembling in anticipation.

The Master tossed it to the side without looking at the contents. “What happened to your face? And arm?” he asked.

Cyril’s right eye had swelled into an unattractive lump. “There were mass casualties at the Worcester facility, sir. William was the only survivor. Surveillance revealed little evidence of other survivors between here and Worcester. But we briefly encountered some hostile child survivors. You have all the pictures, sir,” Cyril said with militaristic precision.

Master Shin resumed his pacing. The only sound in the room was William’s sobbing.

Finally, he spoke. “Show William to his bunk.”

Cyril nodded and grabbed his prisoner by the arm.

The Master continued, “You really screwed me, Cyril… but you’re one sick piece of work and I can use that to my advantage. Tell Recon Team B to ready the helicopters. You’re going on a mission to gather survivors… And try not to kill them. I don’t need one of your accidents.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cyril felt a tingle of excitement. Everything was going to be just fine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Drea

Sammy’s count was somewhere near 9,000. Again. Drea had made him start over when he hit 10,000 the first time. They were headed west as planned, but it was slow going.

“My feet hurt,” Darnell complained for the millionth time.

“Mine too,” Drea commiserated. The highway pavement was particularly punishing.

“Hey Laura, can’t we just cut northwest through a few neighborhoods? This road twists and turns and twists back again. It feels like a lot of unnecessary walking.”

“I told you, we have a better chance of finding survivors along the main highway. We’re going to maintain a westerly route for a few days,
then
head north to New Hampshire. Besides, the armed forces will likely evacuate survivors this way. This is our best chance of finding other people.”

Drea flat out disagreed with Laura’s logic. She scuffed her feet on the asphalt detritus in resignation. The dirt gave off a pathetic puff of particles, adding an apropos effect to the group’s death march away from Boston.

The destruction of infrastructure was most alarming. Cars were strewn about the highway, as though a baby giant had forgotten to pick up his toys. The fetid garbage and the sweet smell of decay only served to support Drea’s inclination to get out of the city. Staying behind wasn’t dangerous per se, but it wasn’t safe either. And Drea didn’t want to stick around to find out what would happen in the weeks and months following the apocalyptic event. In the back of her mind, she wasn’t completely sure the Event was even over, or isolated. What if it happened again with no warning? On the open road they could duck under a car or dive into a ditch, but that might not save them…

That’s why Drea’s plan was to get out of Massachusetts as soon as possible and head to the Fox family’s rustic summer cabin in southern New Hampshire. It was a humble second home, overlooking a lake. Built at the turn of the 20
th
century and retrofitted later for electricity, it had all the things needed to survive a life without modern amenities. And compared to the roadside destruction, it was downright cushy. Besides, Drea’s parents had always insisted it was the safest place to meet in the event of an emergency.

As they walked, Drea’s brain was on edge, waiting for something to happen. And the wicked eerie silence made it worse. There were no city noises anymore. No buses, no subways, no car horns, no fire trucks, nothing. Nothing, but the clomp of their feet. She missed the urban symphony of life in Boston.

“Yo, I’m hungry.” It was always Darnell who broke the silence.

“Eat something from your pack,” Drea directed.

“Can we stop and chill for a minute? We’ve been goin’ nonstop.”

“That’s the idea,” Drea replied, “put as much distance between us and the city before nightfall.”

“I’m hungry too,” Sammy whined, “And my feet hurt.”

Darnell patted Sammy on the back. “See? Encyclopedia here agrees. Time to chill. And Droid has to take a wiz.”

What could Drea say? Her brother finally had a friend and the rat had to pee… “Alright, but only a short break. Fifteen minutes. Tops.”

Laura shrugged in approval.

The group sat down on the overgrown grassy shoulder next to the breakdown lane. It was strangely soft and lush like the well-maintained lawn of an outdoor concert venue. The space was warm and inviting.

Drea released the tight straps on her pack, setting it down with a thud. She took out some crackers and munched.

Overhead, the trees rustled their newly budded leaves. A soft breeze blew hints of summer over Drea’s skin. She had never noticed all the green space along the highway before. And it was beautiful. Things were almost normal.

Laura interrupted Drea’s bliss with in harsh whisper, “I expected to see more people by now.”

“I didn’t,” said Drea. “We know that things are messed up enough that the government hasn’t responded. No helicopters. No National Guard. Nothing. I bet things are messed up pretty far outside Boston.”

“I guess so. I thought we’d see some other movement, or signs of another group of survivors by now.”

“Maybe everyone else left town days ago.”

“Maybe,” Laura agreed.

Or maybe everyone else was dead.

Drea looked over her shoulder to check on Sammy. He was under some shade, showing his specimen book to Darnell. What an absurd pair.

“So what kind of bug is a moth?” Darnell asked.

Sammy answered in rote rhythm, “Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Arthropoda, Class Insecta, Order Lepidoptera.”

“Do another one!” Darnell was making a game out of it. “What is the science-y name for this tree?”

Looking up at the newly green tree above him, Sammy replied, “Silver Maple. Latin name Acer Saccharinum. Also known as the water maple and the soft maple.”

“Dude, that’s crazy.”

“Hey, don’t call him names!” Drea warned.

“I ain’t. I mean that’s craaaaaaazy. Like cool.”

“Oh.” Drea still didn’t know what to think of the kid.

“We cool now. Me and your brother. S’all good.”

“Good to hear. Anyway, get ready to pack up and go.”

“What? Already?”

“Yeah, we have to keep moving.”

“You got somewhere to be?” Darnell did his classic head cock to challenge her authority.

“We need to cover as much ground as possible and then find shelter.”

“Why don’t we pop off the next exit and see what’s what?” Darnell suggested.

“We can’t do that. It could be dangerous,” Drea asserted.

“Nah. Dangerous is downtown at 3 a.m. And I been there. Trust me girl, there ain’t jack out here. I know these things.”

The way he said it gave Drea pause.

“This place is cool. Trust me. I feel like we oughta go check things out. Maybe find some info on what happened. Next exit,” Darnell insisted.

“He has a point,” Laura chimed in. “We are far enough outside the city to check for survivors.”

Drea was quiet. All eyes were on her. It was hard for her to make a decision under so much pressure. She wanted everyone to like her, but she also really wanted to follow her own plan. She was torn.

She stuck her hand into her pack and pulled one card from the middle of the tarot deck without looking. Ten of Cups. Again! What were the chances of that? She had shuffled the deck mindlessly for hours since the last time she had pulled that card. The repetition made her wonder if her tarot skills were getting stronger…

Darnell popped his head over her shoulder, “So what do the magic oogey-boogey cards say? Can we check it out this ‘hood?”

Drea defensively covered the deck. The Ten of Cups was a good omen. She nodded in approval.

“Sweet! C’mon Encyclopedia, we goin’ explorin’!”

“I love exploring!” Sammy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

***

At the corner of two major highways, Weston was an affluent community in a tax dollar premium locale. The group turned right off the exit, heading down a once busy road with a posted speed limit of 40 mph. The spring leaves whipped around in the wind, creating spotted shadows on the pavement. Gorgeous weather highlighted the gorgeous zip code— Weston’s huge houses sitting at the top of well-manicured driveways.

Darnell’s eyes stretched wide. “This neighborhood is blazin’! I could kick it here.”

Drea imagined he had never seen such a place. Most urban kids in the Boston metro area never went further than the end of their bus line. Out of curiosity she asked, “Hey Darnell, you ever been to the beach?”

“The beach? Nah. Never been. Why?”

“Just curious. It’s beautiful, you know. I think you’d like it.” Drea felt bad. He lived so close, but had never really been anywhere. “We should go up to the North Shore sometime.”

“Nah. I don’t do sand,” he said as he ogled a five car garage. “How many Benzes you think this guy owns?”

Laura reminded everyone, “We have to keep moving. The further out of the city we get, the more likely we are to get rescued.”

There was that word again. Drea was sure that rescue wasn’t coming, but she wasn’t going to argue with Laura. She was more interested in finding out why no rescue was coming.

In some respects, post-apocalyptic Weston looked the same as Cambridge and Arlington and all the other Metro West suburbs. Everyone had stopped dead in the middle of the morning. Joggers lay flat on curbs where they had taken their last steps. One foot in front of the other and then BLAM! Life ended and they had hit the ground.

The first body they came upon was a middle-aged woman who had obviously taken care of herself. Trim, toned muscles, with a state of the art pedometer strapped to her arm. In life, she’d had the luxury of time. In death, bugs were doing their thing, reclaiming her flesh, eating holes in the empty shell that had once been a person. So many beetles and maggots were wriggling on the surface, the jogger’s face appeared to move on its own. Drea cringed. It was an image lifted out of her repetitive nightmares. Real live nightmares were becoming the new normal.

“Hey Sammy, did you know that the biomass of all the bugs on the planet weighs three times that of the human population?” Drea shared compulsively.

Her brother mulled it over for a second. “No, I did not know that,” he reported robotically.

His red headphones bobbed up and down as he blissfully jumped over cracks in the road. He had been walking a bit slower than the group due to his rules about cracks, but he kept up for the most part. In general, Drea’s brother had been doing remarkably well since she encouraged him to go into Vacation Mode.

“Look at all the bugs on the bodies!” Drea exclaimed. “Can’t argue with science!”

So. Many. Bugs.

Sammy looked at the corpses out of literal obedience. “The ants are carrying fungal spores,” he happily shared as he bounced away, counting his steps.

Gross. Drea compulsively looked once more and noticed that the bug-eaten woman had died with her hands over her ears. This was easily the ninth or tenth body Drea had seen in that pose. That’s how she had found Sierra. And the upperclassman. Sammy had also covered his ears, but that was a sensory issue…

A connection sparked in Drea’s brain. She whipped around to run it by her brother, but he was nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone in two seconds?

“Laura, where’s Sammy?” Drea shouted ahead.

Laura stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean? He’s right…” She scanned the nearby lawn. “Where did he go?”

Drea immediately jumped into action, running down the sidewalk, looking left and right. Flashes of panicked memories from her childhood filled her mind. Amusement parks, grocery stores, shopping malls–– he always disappeared. Where could he have gone so quickly?

“Sammy! Sammy!” she called. She felt a ligament in her neck snap taut as her headed whipped back and forth.

Then she saw him. He was thirty feet off the road standing on his tiptoes, pulling some nasty charred stuff off a tree— and he was stuffing it in his mouth by the handful. Gross! The sight of it made Drea gag.

“Sammy, no!” she yelled as she caught up to him. “Don’t eat that!”

The bumpy stuff was growing all over the tree and looked like a cancer, black and bulbous. She grabbed the charred hunk from his hand and knocked it to the ground.

“STOP!” Sammy cried. “Give it back!”

“What are you doing eating that garbage?” Drea questioned.

“It’s just chaga,” he said nonchalantly.

“It’s what?”

“A fungus.”

The kid was seriously gross.

“It could be poisonous, you can’t go around eating stuff off of trees.”

“It’s not poison. It’s edible chaga. I checked first. It’s growing on a birch tree so it’s safe to eat.”

He checked first. Of course he did. It was the end of the world and Drea’s kid brother was eating tree fungus on the side of the road.

There was nothing to say.

“Can I take some with me?” Sammy begged his sister with hopeful eyes.

“Sure,” she acquiesced. What was the point in saying no now? Drea didn’t need to protect him from public ridicule anymore. And he loved mushrooms more than life. Screw it; let the kid eat tree fungus.

“Thanks, Drea!” he sing-songed. He wasted no time plucking several more huge chunks from the tree.

“But we have to keep moving. And you can’t just disappear like that! Stay with the group!” she cautioned.

“Okay,” he agreed while grabbing two handfuls and shoving them into his bag.

As they walked back toward the group, Drea remembered her burning question. “Were you wearing your headphones on Monday?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” Sammy replied matter-of-factly.

That confirmed her suspicions. All four of them had survived in sound proofed or sound buffered locations: a recording studio, a freezer, and a seclusion room with headphones. The deadly wave wasn’t made of water. It was a sound wave! Drea jogged ahead to run her idea by Laura.