The Eve (The Eden Trilogy) (8 page)

“What,” West said, smiling at me as he swerved around a particularly large crack in the road.  “And make life simple and boring?”

I shook my head and laughed.  “Seriously.”

West was quiet for a moment as he continued to make our way back to the hospital.  “I’m really sorry for how I’ve treated you the last few months.  I’m glad we can be friends again.”

I looked over at him, a smile pulling on my lips.  “Me too.” 

And I meant it.

“Avian!” I screamed as we burst through the front doors of the hospital.  I sprinted toward the medical wing, where I was sure I would find him.  “Avian!”

We collided with each other as I turned the corner, tumbling to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Avian asked as we rolled to a stop.  He pulled me up to my knees and placed his hands on my upper arms.  His eyes started scanning me for injury.

“We found the mom,” I said, searching him over for any early signs of infection.  His eyes seemed normal, still burning blue.  “She had a hand-shaped bruise on her.  She was infected Avian.  She shot herself and her kids.”

“It’s okay,” he said, shaking his head furiously.  “I’m fine.  I had the kid tested with the CDU.  He wasn’t infected.”

I swore, my hands rising to knot in my hair.

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling me towards him into an embrace.  “I’m fine.”

I shook my head and took a deep breath.  My hands shook.  It was crushing when West got infected.  I wouldn’t survive it if Avian was taken from me.

“Okay,” I said, calming my nerves.  I pulled back and rose to my feet.  “Do you know where Royce is?  I need to talk to him.”

“Right here,” I heard him call from inside the medical wing.  I turned to see him talking with one of the doctors.

“Royce, they’re closing in again,” I said, walking toward him, Avian in tow.  “One of them infected the mother of that kid, and then West and I plowed into another on the freeway as we were headed back.  We were fifteen miles
inside
the perimeter.”

Royce swore, his hands interlocking behind his head.  “Well, we always knew it wasn’t gonna’ last.”

“How much longer until the Pulse is fixed?” Avian asked.

“Dr. Beeson’s crew has been so busy working on everything else, they haven’t had any time to devote to it.  They’ve been working on the solar tank nonstop for the past two and a half weeks.  And then they’re supposed to start in on the Nova.”

“Have Graye get security detail back on perimeter watch,” I said as I started pacing.  There was too much adrenaline coursing through my body and not enough space to do anything with it.  “We’re going to have to risk them staying on the outskirts for now.  You can’t turn the WTS back on until after we leave with Dr. Evans.  We’ve got to get that transmitter built.”

Royce gave a snicker and a smile pulled in the corner of his mouth.  “Well yes, ma’am.”

His sudden amusement broke through my nervous pacing and pulled a smile from myself.  “Sorry.  Didn’t mean to get bossy.”

“Hey, it’s good practice, kiddo.  You will be the boss in two days,” he said with a wink.  He then turned and started walking back down the hall.  “Leadership looks good on you.”

“How’s the kid doing?” I asked, turning back to Avian.

His eyes darted to a room, I assumed that was where the child was.  “Not good.  He’s extremely dehydrated, malnourished.  He’s basically starved to death.  That bullet wound is disastrously infected.  He’s got lice and all sorts of other critters living on him.  I’m pretty sure I need to go burn these clothes now and wash myself with bleach after touching him.”

He rubbed a hand over his head as he crossed the hall and peered through a window to the child’s room.  “We’ve got him on IV fluids and antiobiotics and they’ll wash him up as soon as he looks a tad more stable.  But I think he’ll live.”

That familiar pride I had so often felt for Avian back in the mountains returned.  Avian had little need to practice his doctorly duties now that there were three other physicians here, but this was one of his best elements.  He was so good under pressure.

“What?” he asked.  I hadn’t realized he’d looked back at me.

“Nothing,” I said with a smile.  “I guess I just miss seeing the doctor side of you sometimes.  It makes me miss home.”

He crossed the space and once again pulled me into his arms.  His heart thumped steady and peaceful.

Thinking once again of Eden made my chest ache.  I missed the trees and the cool morning air.  I missed my tent and our watch towers.  I even missed pulling weeds from the gardens.

A nurse stepped out of Morgan’s room.

“How’s she doing?” I asked, pulling away from Avian.

The woman’s face fell and she hesitated.  “Not well.  It looks like she’s going downhill fast.”

I gave a hard swallow.  “And the baby?”

“It doesn’t look good for the baby either, I’m afraid.  It will probably go when she does.”

I nodded.  “Thank you.” 

The woman shuffled away.

“It’s not fair,” I said, standing there in limbo between the rooms of two fading people.  “People can’t just keep dying.”

“That’s why we’re leaving the day after tomorrow,” Avian said, rubbing a hand over his head again.  “It’s time to do something about it.”

I kept staring at the window to Morgan’s room and kept thinking about that baby growing in her stomach and how it didn’t have a chance of surviving.  I thought about how crowded it must have been inside my mother’s stomach with my sister and me in there.  I wondered if it felt like a relief as an infant to finally have some room once I was out, but that I probably wasn’t aware enough to feel anything.

I had been dying too, at that point, after all.

I suddenly gasped, feeling as if I had been punched in the heart with a ghostly, impossible fist.

“Avian, I need your help.”

EIGHT

Avian and I slept little more than a few hours that night.  We had a whole new list of things to collect.  We scoured the fifth floor for supplies, took what we knew could be spared from the hospital wing, and knocked on select doors of people we knew would help us and not say a word.

And I very carefully asked Dr. Evans some very careful questions about my past.

The plan was improbable, but not completely impossible.

I informed Royce that I hadn’t come up with a fourth member of our crew, but that I thought we could work just fine with the team I had come up with so far.  He didn’t fight me about it, but we were packed for an extra person.

The night before we were to leave, Dr. Beeson radioed to let us know the van was ready.  Bill, West, Avian, and I made our way to the back of the building to check out what they’d created for us.

We stepped out into the evening light, which reflected blindingly off the beast before us.

“Who-hoo-hoo!” West said, clapping and whooping as he walked toward it.  “That’s what I’m talking about!”

I couldn’t help but admire the vehicle as well.

It had indeed been a fifteen passenger van at one point.  But it looked as if it had the top of it chopped off and raised an additional three feet.  It also had a huge luggage rack on top of that that already held a great deal of our supplies.  And on top of the cargo rack, were six large solar panels.

The beast had been raised at least a foot and it sported massive, rugged-terrain tires.  A set of flood lights had been mounted to the front of the roof, and the entire thing was midnight black.  Even the windows looked blacked out.

“Is that a firing turret on top?” I asked, spotting the thick, long cylinder atop the solar panels.

“Indeed it is,” Dr. Beeson said, a grin spreading on his face.

“Hey,” Royce said, sounding offended.  “This thing was mostly my baby.  Don’t you go taking all the credit.”

“Excuse me,” Dr. Beeson said in an exaggerated voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender.  “It’s all yours to show off.”

“Thank you,” Royce said, his chin lifting, a coy grin cocking in the corner of his mouth.  “Come on, reclamation team.”

By this point, we were all grinning ridiculously as we followed Royce closer to the vehicle.  He threw the side doors open and held his arms out grandly for us to check out the inside.

“The solar tank is made to withstand raging Bane, looting humans, and just about anything else this apocalypse has to throw at you,” he said as I stepped inside first.

The last row of seats had been removed and was stocked full of weaponry.  The very middle of the roof had a hatch cut into it and opened up to the firing turret, just like a smaller scale version of our actual tanks.  Running alongside the hatch in the raised portion of the roof, were two very tiny, claustrophobic looking beds.  The front passenger seat was a glass encasement.

No one had to ask what it was for.

“If you can’t get there and back in this thing, you can’t make it anywhere,” Royce said, pride sounding in his voice.

“It’s a thing of beauty,” West said, settling into the driver’s seat.

“Your only problem should be if you get some particularly cloudy days,” Royce said, his excitement falling.  “Since this is such a beast, the batteries powering it get drained fast.  They don’t get to store much.  So if you can’t get access to sun, you may be stuck for a while.”

“I see now why you called it the solar tank,” I said, stepping back out and admiring it from the outside.  “You did good, Royce.  You did good.”

Royce laughed, a full-hearted, belly birthed laugh, and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

Avian met my eye knowingly as we took one last look at the solar tank, and headed back inside.

“You ready?” I hissed.

Avian seemed to materialize out of the dark, pack slung over his shoulder.  He clicked on his small flashlight and nodded.

Taking my hand in his, we slipped silently down the hall.

We descended the stairs, taking our time to make sure our footsteps would not echo on the concrete walls.  Pausing briefly at the door to the hall, we found it empty and slipped out.  Not a soul seemed to be awake as we jogged to the medical wing.

A few lights had been left on in the medical wing.  We paused around the corner, watching for signs of life.

“Is there anyone besides Morgan and the kid in there?” I whispered.

“Just them,” Avian said, looking around the corner again.  “A nurse comes to check on things twice a night, but no one will be around until morning.  We should be good.”

We darted forward into the harsh light.  Placing my fingers on the handle, I paused, looking up at Avian.

“I love you for doing this,” I said.

“Anything,” he breathed, a smile playing on his lips.

Taking care that the door handle didn’t make any noise, we pushed it open and stepped inside.

Morgan lay still and silent on her bed.  She had slipped into a coma the morning before and was given less than five days to live.  The baby’s vitals dipped, but not enough for the doctors to pull it from her stomach yet.

Grabbing the portable bed from the hall outside, Avian wheeled it into the room, right next to her bed.  He opened the cupboard across the room and pulled out the portable oxygen unit.

“Careful with the tubes,” he said as I helped him switch her oxygen.  Once replaced, we each took hold of the sheet beneath her and lifted her onto the wheeled bed.  “Grab the IV tower.”

Wrapping my hand around it, I carefully steered it as Avian rolled Morgan and the bed with the portable oxygen unit out into the hall.

“Hold on,” I said before we entered the main hall.  Avian stopped and I parked the tower next to him.  Slipping to the entrance to the hall, I peered around the corner.

One of the members of security detail walked across the lobby.  He paused, looking around, sweeping the area, before stepping out the front doors.

Royce had already started night patrol back up.  I could only hope this was the only man on duty.

“Let’s go,” I said when he was out of view.  Once again, Avian and I rolled quietly down the hall toward the back entrance.

The automatic doors opened with a whoosh of cold air.  The faintest hint of light was phasing into the eastern horizon as we rolled across the sidewalk and down to the side of the solar tank.  I opened the doors as wide as they would go and adjusted the pillows and blankets we’d stashed in the back row of seats earlier that day.

Avian, in the meantime, had unhooked the IV bag from the tower and laid it in her lap.  Shouldering the oxygen unit, he took the sheet at her feet, I grabbed it by her shoulders.  Together, as carefully as we could manage, we lifted her into the van and onto the back seat.

“I guess it’s a good thing she’s unconscious,” I said as Avian adjusted her, placing a pillow under her knees.  “This isn’t going to be a comfortable eight hundred mile ride.”

Avian didn’t respond as he hooked her IV bag over a catch on the side of the vehicle.  He double checked everything, setting the oxygen unit on the floor next to a box full of batteries and full oxygen tanks.

“Think she’ll be warm enough?” Avian fretted as he laid another blanket over her.

“We’ll be back and on the road in an hour,” I said, glancing back toward the hospital.  As I did, a light on the second floor flickered on.  People were starting to rise.  “She’ll be okay.”

He helped me shift bags of bedding around so both Morgan and the IV bag weren’t so visible.  We just had to hope Bill, West, and Dr. Evans didn’t notice until we were too far away from New Eden to turn back.

“Come on,” I said, pulling on the back of Avian’s shirt.  “We’d better get back or they’re going to know we’re missing.”

“Okay,” he said, looking her over one more time before he closed the doors and ran hand in hand with me back into the hospital.

I had just slipped into my room and set to gathering the last few things I needed into my pack when there was a knock on the door.  I opened it to find Bill.

“Time to get rolling,” he said.  Just then, West stepped out of his room from behind Bill.

“Okay, one second,” I said.  I ducked back into my room, shouldering my pack and placing my Desert Eagle into its holster.  Avian stepped out of his room the same time I did.