Arkadium Rising (32 page)

"You rest now." She ran her fingers through his hair, and he did as he was told.

When Jason woke, it was the middle of the night and he assumed he slept through to the next day. His healing ribs throbbed dully, and he would have rolled to his side to ease the pressure of the wound if it weren't for the countless visible stars above. He had never seen a sky so clear. He imagined a country three thousand miles across with only sporadic fires to dull the light shining down on them. Light from millions of years ago, only now reaching earth. Illumination from stars that may no longer exist. If he turned away, would someone somewhere in the world witness that light? He continued to stare, and for a number of minutes, as his strength gathered, he felt at peace.

When he heard someone stirring nearby, he looked away. Leah was curled up on her side near the tailgate. She cradled her cheek under her clasped hands.

He wanted to go to her and thank her for taking care of him, for worrying about him, for simply being. But she looked so calm. What if he pulled her from a pleasant dream into this nightmare in which they now lived? He didn't want to take the chance.

He pressed his palms down onto the blankets on either side of him. A nest of sorts had been fashioned for him. After… how many days did Leah say he was unconscious? Nine? After a week and a half, the blankets beneath him smelled like death. That alone motivated him to grit his teeth through the dull ache as he pressed himself into a sitting position.

He scooted over to the side of the truck bed and looked out. A few tents were spread out in a small camp around the truck. A campfire that was little more than dying embers sat at the middle of the camp. The truck was parked in a pine forest that grew up to the edge of a large body of water. Moonlight streaked the water's surface with trails of silver. Between the sheltering pine branches Jason spotted a rusty trellis bridge that extended out of view.

So, we're at a river, huh? That makes sense. Now which one is it?

He heard lulling waves lapping at the shore. An owl hooted nearby and its call went unanswered. Jason braced himself against the side of the truck bed and forced himself into a hunched standing position. After lying prone for so long he expected the blood to rush from his head with such force that he risked a return to unconsciousness. Luckily, after a few seconds of weak disorientation, his vision resolved.

He glanced once more at Leah before slipping one leg over the edge of the truck. Before he could have second thoughts, he threw the other leg over the side. He turned his whole body so he could shimmy down the side of the truck on his belly. With minimal fuss or pain, he jumped down to a thick mat of knee-high grass.

He breathed deeply, smelling the river on the air. It felt good to be alive, no matter the circumstances. He inhaled again, and he smelled something else—spring rain and vanilla.

His senses went on high alert and he searched for the source, the only source it could be.

Delaney stepped closer to him, somehow only five feet away. Her smile was the smile he first saw the day she tracked him down at his parents' house. She stirred both a mixture of lust and animosity in him.

"I'm glad you didn't die," she said and licked her full lips.

"What does it matter? You have Marcus. That's all you need."

"But he needs you. If he needs you then so do I."

"What a charming sentiment. Excuse me while I go vomit." He tried to step around her, but she wouldn't let him.

"That girl?"

"Leah? What about her? You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"No, Jesus, Jason. You act like I'm some kind of psychopath."

"If the label fits..."

"All I wanted to say is that Leah is special. She didn't leave your side the whole time you were out of it."

"We… we barely know each other."

"Sometimes that doesn't matter. Sometimes it's like you've known someone your whole life the first time you meet them. That's exactly the feeling I had when I met Marcus. I'm not saying that's the case with you two, but she cares for you. And that's something."

"I'll take that under advisement. You… I don't know how to deal with you. I can barely stand to look at you. So I'm just going to…" Jason paused, looking around for an easy escape route, "get the fuck away from you. Have a good night."

As Jason walked in the opposite direction, Delaney chuckled. When he rounded the front corner of Uncle Vince's Ford '40, he noticed a campfire flickering against the rough stone outcropping near the shore. Jason, drawn by the light, walked as quietly as possible. The stone formed a natural shelter that faced away from the river. Someone sat on a log near the fire, his face lost in shadow.

"Jason, very good. Come," Marcus said, "come sit with me. Chase away the chill."

Jason couldn't run, at least not now. And he didn't know if he would ever be able to again. Not while Marcus was still alive. His fatigue was mounting after his short walk from the truck, and his feet dragged at the dirt beneath him.

"Here." Marcus got up from his log. "Take my seat."

Jason stopped two feet from his brother and tilted his head back slightly to look into his eyes. Marcus looked relaxed. No, not relaxed. Mellow. Like he was on something. He had seen that look on Marcus's face so often since his little brother became a teenager. His brother was such a crack head that he didn't think a little thing like the apocalypse would stop him from eventually falling off the wagon.

In that instant Jason wanted to reach out and strangle him. He didn't think it would surprise Marcus if he struck with such violence. He wondered if he would even fight back, at least at first. Jason said nothing. Fearing he might fall over at any moment, he shuffled over to the log and sat down. His every muscle voiced its protest; his whole body ached with fatigue or injury.

Marcus grabbed another log and sat down next to Jason about three feet away. "I'm so glad you're awake. And also that we didn't find you too late."

"Why, Marcus?" Jason asked. "Why did you even bother? If I ever get the chance, I'm going to kill you."

"I know. It's in your eyes. Even when you were crying out and delirious with fever, it was there."

"I don't get it, I really don't."

"I can rule this world. Do you believe me when I say this?" Marcus said.

Jason wondered if he was being tested. It wasn't unusual for Marcus to get lost in riddles, especially if he was using. "Yes. I believe it. Your people have turned the world over to the animals. And you're a predator. An apex predator."

"You know me so well." Marcus stared off into the flames. "I could murder, rape, and destroy by the thousands. I could burn populated cities to ash. I could do so willfully, without doubt or question. But there is only madness in unfettered chaos. I really would be nothing more than an animal. So much so. But you…"

"I prevent that? Please, spare me your moral compass bullshit. You can control yourself just fucking fine without me. All you're doing by tracking me down is hurting everyone in your path."

"No, not everyone, brother." Marcus's doped eyes slowly panned from the fire to Jason.

"So, Mike, Cora?"

"Yes, they are fine, unharmed. Haven't laid a hand on either one."

"Promise?"

"If you want to wake them up to find out, feel free. They're sharing the yellow tent nearest the truck. They might be happy to see you, but it's probably not a good idea to wake the old lady's cat. That thing is something fierce."

"Kat's alive?"

"Must you question everything I say?"

"You have to admit that you have a track record," Jason said, and Marcus could only nod in agreement. "So, you found me. Patched me up. Now what? Is this some kind of camping trip, just one big happy family?"

"Just for tonight."

"And tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, we'll cross the Mississippi on that rusty old bridge to Sanctuary Island."

"Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

"Not now, but you'll learn. Just know that Sanctuary Island is a holy place, one of the Arkadium's first settlements west of the Appalachians. We'll be safe there. You need to rest. We need to resupply. You need to hear more stories from other survivors of the Election."

"What do you mean?"

"There will be other groups of the Arkadium gathered on the island, seeking temporary shelter, just like us. Even though they are among my people, they are still human. They still have witnessed the grand unmaking of modern man. I'm sure you're eager to listen to their stories, to record them for posterity."

"Are you talking about the New History?"

"Yes, very much so. I had no idea you would continue your great work after leaving my company. But since you did, you must admit, this undertaking is something that you're meant to do."

Sure, he'd been writing since he escaped Marcus back at Jerry's cabin, but none of it, not a single word, had been intended to be part of some great work.

"I started out convinced that I needed to keep you safe because you're my brother, and, yes, my moral compass, but after reading your work since you left me… I have to say, I need to keep you safe for the sake of humanity."

"You read my journal?"

"Of course I did." Marcus stood from his low log seat and paced a five foot path back a forth, his stoned lethargy gone.

"That's not what I was writing. It's not the new history of
anything
, let alone meant for anyone else to read."

"You were meant for this changed world, brother. You are on your own spiritual path and you don't even realize it."

"Marcus—"

Marcus turned abruptly toward him and cut him off with a raised hand. He looked ready to either slap Jason or spout a sermon. "And I quote! 'The apocalypse, at least as it pertains to me, is not a thousand-page epic…' Remember that line, brother?"

"So…?"

Marcus continued, recalling his journal entry from memory. "'If I've learned anything, it's that the end of civilization realigns your worldview. For me, the world has become small, brutish, and violent beyond comprehension. For some people I'm sure it's quite different. For isolated people who were already living a worldview that extended no farther than the next hillside, they may very well feel little change. And for them I reserve my most bitter envy. For city dwellers I imagine the world is everything it has become for me, but magnified manifold. Perhaps that raises their individual apocalypse to epic levels, or perhaps it makes life even shorter, more violent, more unforgiving. That's the thing. I'll probably never know, not seen through my myopic view of the world. Not when I can see the world through the lens of my eyes and no further.'"

Marcus's hand lowered, his energy sapped.

Jason didn't know what to say.

"Don't you see, Jason? Don't you understand why I must protect you above all others, including myself?"

Jason stood from his spot near the fire, speechless. Even if he could speak, he would never be able to get through to his brother, nor escape his reach. Marcus had just consigned him to an inescapable damnation. He turned away from the fire, pausing while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He started walking toward the truck, slowly, at the limits of his strength.

"Jason, you better rest up. Tomorrow will be a long day, and one of the most difficult of our lives."

Jason hesitated, but then he continued on, not wanting to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow was a day he couldn't consider. Not when he needed to fight to survive this one.

Sanctuary Island

1.

For a few blessed moments before his mind was fully awake, Jason was able to convince himself that the world was still whole. The gentle wind carried the scent of pine needles and a campfire breakfast—potatoes, pancakes, and coffee. He wanted to slip back into the tenuous netherworld just shy of waking, chasing after memories of being eleven years old and leaving home for the first time, of sleeping under the stars with his Boy Scout troop. He wanted to believe, to retreat, to forget… but he couldn't.

Sleep slipped his grasp. He sighed and opened his eyes. The stars were gone, too. A thick fog had descended over the pinewood forest during the night.

The truck bed was empty except for the filthy blankets beneath him. When he finally worked himself into a sitting position, he saw Leah huddled alongside Linda Dwyer and Eldon Pointer as they cooked breakfast over a campfire. With his AR-15 drawn and ready, Hector walked the perimeter of the camp, shifting through the fog like a ghost lost on an ethereal battlefield.

Jason shimmied out of the truck bed and stretched his limbs as he walked over to the fire. He couldn't see the river through the dense fog, but he could hear it. It was a lonely sound but still somehow soothing.

"Hi, Jason, nice to see you up and about," Eldon said. "I prayed for you. We all did."

"Thanks, Eldon."

"Coffee?" Linda offered him an aluminum cup.

Leah looked up at him from her seated position. She seemed comfortable with Marcus's people. It was hard not to like Eldon, and Linda had taken to following his lead, so her crazed hysterics following the EMP had become muted. Leah seemed comfortable, sure, but she also didn't know these people or what they had done. He wanted to take her hand and take her away from this place, explain every sordid detail of Marcus and his people.

All in due time
, he promised himself.
In due time
.

Leah patted the ground next to her. Smiled.

He relented and sat down. "Sure, I'll have some coffee."

Linda exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath and handed him the cup. Jason held the cup while she filled it from the blue tin coffeepot hanging over the fire. "Sorry there's no sugar."

"Don't worry about it. This is spoiling me as it is."