Anaz-Voohri (36 page)

“Light fires in the middle of the camp, and keep river water boiling at all times for tea and soup." Tia didn’t mention the floating cadavers and hoped boiling the water would suffice. The river would cleanse itself in time. “Save the purifying pills and bottled water for medical emergencies, and conserve the propane to warm up canned food." In drastic situations, primitive methods proved more reliable in the long run than high tech gadgets.

Tia felt proud of her efficient team. A few soldiers went to the river’s edge and filtered water through fine cloth to fill large aluminum kettles. Then they hung the kettles from tripods and lit wood fires underneath.

Two teams started digging pits for the garbage and the latrines.
 
Others installed rudimentary showers with cold water pumped from the river by hand. The sound of the chainsaw, dicing fallen trees for firewood and planks, soon filled the air.

Medics tended to the wounded in the open while other medics finished installing the equipment inside the hospital tent. Most of the refugees shivered from the morning chill, and looked hungry, their lips parched with thirst. They didn’t speak the language of their rescuers, but a smile, a steaming bowl of instant chicken soup, and a blanket, would go a long way to establish trust.

*****

One morning, after two weeks of exhausting work and very little sleep, Tia woke up to a commotion. Slipping on boots and parka in a hurry, she ventured out in the biting cold. Like a peaceful shroud, the first thin snow covered the camp and the ruined city across the river. “What happened?" she asked the first man she saw.

The soldier blew on his hands in a white plume of breath. “A man wandered out in the cold last night." He scanned the neighboring hills. “The snow covered the tracks. We don’t know which direction he took. We’ll probably never see him again.”

It was the third disappearance in two weeks. “Send the dog teams to search for him. If we’re lucky he’s still alive,” Tia said with more conviction than she felt.

The soldier saluted and left in the direction of the K9 tents.

Last time a civilian had wandered out at night, the rescuers had found him drowned, in a tangle of debris, a few miles down the river. Tia had told everyone at the time that it must have been an accident due to disorientation in the dark, but she knew better. The psychological damage ran deeper than the physical wounds. A few poor souls lost their
minds,
others lost the will to live after the death of their loved ones. The team psychiatrist had warned her about such suicidal attempts.

Tia had to keep up the morale of team members and survivors. Spotting a soldier coming out of his tent, she stopped him. “Gather every able body outside, on the double." It was time to give these people a purpose.

When men, women and children, wrapped in their blankets, stood shivering in the middle of the camp, Tia stepped onto a crate and said in a loud voice, “We have to organize for an early winter." She nodded to the interpreter next to her and gave him time to translate before she spoke again.

“Our supplies are limited, and we do not know when we’ll receive more... Today, we’ll organize forays into the city to dig out canned food, warm winter clothes and whatever gear and equipment we can salvage. I need brave volunteers who knew the city well and can guide the soldiers to the most promising areas."

The survivors looked at each other with gloomy faces. For them, the ruins would be more difficult to confront than for the soldiers. Over one million bodies remained entombed under the rubble, friends, neighbors, brothers, parents, sons and daughters. Nevertheless, a dozen volunteers gathered to the side.

“Each of you will be given a responsibility." Tia hoped it would keep their mind from wandering into despair. “I’m sure there are hunters among you. I’m told there is boar and fat bears in these hills, as well as rabbits and a few winter birds.”

After translation, the call received a few enthusiastic responses, and the hunters formed another separate group of about fifty.

“Who has good legs and doesn’t fear farm animals?”

After a few jostling smiles and jokes, more hands came up.”

“Stray cows and chickens, as well as sheep and goats have been spotted, wandering around these hills. We sure could use milk, eggs, and fresh meat.”

The would-be-farmers gathered in a separate team.

“Any fishermen among you?
There must be fish in that river as well." Tia neglected to mention the fish must be fat from eating cadavers. It didn’t matter.

The fishermen formed yet another group.

“Who wants to cook?”

Many women stepped forward, chatting suddenly as Tia had never seen them do, a good sign.

“The children and the elderly can gather wood and pile it up for the fires. The soldiers will help dice up the fallen trees. How many of you understand English?”

There were enough translators to allocate several per team.

 
“We’ll probably have to hold on until spring. By then, some of the fields planted in the fall might still produce, and we’ll receive more supplies. In time, the land will start healing itself.”

Tia’s words seemed to have a positive effect. Animation returned to the listless faces.

The first forays into the devastated city proved very successful, except for the grain contaminated by rats. After a few days, once the refugees had their quota of food, clothes, fishing and hunting supplies, Tia banned the city proper that crawled with rats and stunk of decomposition and disease. She congratulated herself for setting camp on the green river bank.

Every able body pitched in. Between the river fish, the wild game, and the farm animals, now sheltered in rough wooden shacks, the diet and the morale improved somewhat.

Some of the refugees seemed to withstand the hardship much better than others, and Tia sometimes wondered whether they could be hybrids. But she never mentioned the topic. The survival of the community depended on the abilities of strong people like herself, hybrid or human. And the last thing she needed was a hybrid hunt in her camp.

About once a week, Tia received a message from Zack, but she couldn’t get herself to open it. It was too painful to know that this wonderful man still cared for her as much as she cared for him. She hated life’s cruel fate that forced her to choose survival over doomed happiness. Deep inside, she knew she would never love another man. Not that any lined up to court her. Tia’s strong and independent attitude kept them at bay.

At Christmas time, Tia suggested bonfires and the cooks roasted bear and boar on a spit. The survivors filled the night with carols. Although they sang in different languages, the tunes sounded the same. They even celebrated one miracle in that terrible mess. A pregnant mother gave birth to a daughter, a perfect baby, a beautiful flower, a ray of hope in this ocean of desolation.

Two more months passed with no relief in sight. Tia was glad she’d rationed the supplies and made her group more self-reliant. At night, she followed the news on her epad. Her repeated requests for much needed supplies elicited frustrating answers asking her to wait. The governments of the world talked about the future and the reconstruction, but no one seemed to care about the immediate needs of the victims. And no country volunteered to take in refugees, saying they should remain to rebuild and repopulate their stricken nations.

Tia didn’t trust the military or the elected governments to do the right thing anymore. She didn’t long for the comfort of a military base either. Her tour of duty had already ended, and she didn’t intend to reenlist. She would keep the refugees alive until spring. Then, when the rebuilding started, she would simply disappear, like a Guerrilla in the jungle.

Eventually, the snow that blanketed the destruction thawed, uncovering thousands of decomposing cadavers. The putrefaction threatened to foul the air, but easterly winds blew the stink and the contamination away from the camp, at least most of the time.

In early April, the refugees cheered when the reconstruction crews and new relief teams finally reached Prague by water and by air. They erected a temporary bridge,
then
the cleaning brigades in white bio-suits started to bulldoze the debris and sanitize the area to make room for the future city. Civilian international organizations would take it from there and build permanent housing for the survivors over the warm months.

Glad to surrender her charges to the new relief crews, Tia said her goodbyes. She hugged many, waved to the others, kissed the children. She hid her tears as she hopped on the jeep. She would never forget the faces of these courageous people, who had lost everything and everyone dear.

That morning, Tia took the first transport back to the United States.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Spring had come early in New York. Tia had swapped her uniform for white jeans, a peach sweater and a white denim jacket. Free from the military for the first time since she entered West Point at eighteen, she now took the most daring step of her entire life. Her long dark hair flowing behind her, she held a single red rose as she walked resolutely toward the Haepheon Technologies building in Manhattan, just before sunset.

Six months after the release of the riddle, Tia didn’t expect a secret freedom fighter to greet her. If no one showed up, she might have to search for clues. Mythos would no doubt have left some pointers for latecomers to find. She took a deep breath as she reached the tower. Quitting the US military to join an underground militia constituted a huge step, a point of no return.

As nonchalantly as she could manage under the circumstances, Tia sat on a stone bench in front of the tower. To the casual observer, she waited for some employee at quitting time. Out of the glass building, men and women streamed in a steady flow.

Tia’s blood raced like when she’d ventured alone as a child into the Venezuelan jungle. To look less conspicuous, she pulled out her epad and dialed the evening news. On the small screen, most images told of the reconstruction effort in central Europe, but nothing specific about Prague. A familiar voice behind her made her jump.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were waiting for me, and that would make me a very happy man.”

Her heart wobbled for a beat or two. Closing her epad, Tia turned to stare into Zack’s clear aqua eyes. He’d lost his tan but his gaze had gained a new intensity. Despite the slight sarcasm in his voice, he looked pleased and smiled at her, so poised, so sure of himself, more sensual and attractive than in her recollection. Stunned by this unexpected encounter, she realized how much she’d ached for his touch.

Tia forced a smile but couldn’t find her words. Was this a trap? Had ORION released the riddle to lure hybrids and their supporters into the open? Tia should have seen this coming, but for some strange reason, fascinated by Zack’s very presence, she held on to her hopes. He came around the bench to sit next to her, strikingly handsome in civilian black, leather jacket, open collar shirt and slacks.

She willed her mind to slow down. “What are you doing here?" Although something seemed amiss, she couldn’t help but keep her faith in Zack. She remembered a wonderful man and wanted to believe he still was, despite his allegiance to ORION. Although his duty as a hybrid hunter was to kill her, if he still had feelings for her, she might persuade him to spare her life. She struggled to keep her guard
up,
reminding herself he was the enemy.

“I assume you came with a red rose to answer a specific call." The musky fragrance of his aftershave blurred her defenses.

Panic threatened to take away Tia’s voice. She swallowed a lump then said as calmly as she could, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I happen to love red roses. It’s my Hispanic heritage.”

“You have many exceptional abilities, Tia Vargas, but you make a lousy liar. I can tell when people lie." Zack’s gaze softened on her. “I thought we still had something special when we met last summer at the fund raiser.”

“So did
I
." Tia remembered her overflowing joy at discovering he was alive and whole, despite news of his death. She, too, had believed in happiness then... until she discovered he worked for ORION, her mortal enemy.

Zack smiled sadly. “I spent months wondering why you ignored my messages. Then one night, suddenly it all became clear. I think I figured it out. It all fits.”

“Really?"
God, she hoped he didn’t discover she was a hybrid, because if he did, Tia was lost. Should she run while she still could?

“I can read the alarm in your mind, Tia, but fear not. Your
darkest secret
is safe with me." The emphasis on the words confirmed her worst fears, as no one would dare say
hybrid
in a public place.

Tia’s blood ran icy in her veins. Her nervous laugh came unbidden. “I have no secrets. I’m just here to meet someone." Zack must have taken her advice on re-learning to read minds with other subjects than his abducted sister. If true, this would spell disaster for Tia.

His piercing gaze scrutinized the depths of her soul. “I know, Tia. I know everything." Was he hypnotizing his prey before the kill?