Eden's Promise (12 page)

So they ate alone, but Eden’s attention focused on the people milling around them in the mess hall. This place was more organized, it seemed, more strict, but with more people it probably had to be. The portions were smaller, and the food didn’t taste as good as in Washington. Yet the place was packed. What caused some people to move on and some to stay? Did they hope, like she had, that life would return to normal soon, and the camp would be the place to start over? Were they just afraid to go beyond the borders of the camps?

When she finished her meal, she returned the tray as instructed and met Aaron near the door. He linked his fingers with hers and they returned to the truck. Tension ran between her shoulders, and she was fairly certain it came from Aaron’s own caution. He patted her ass as he helped her into the back of the truck and motioned for her to sit toward the front of the vehicle. He gave a last glance over his shoulder before he joined her.

“What is it?” she asked when they were out of the gates.

“Just instinct, but it saved my ass more than once. I got a bad feeling about that place. Glad we’re on our way out.”

Night had fallen while they were eating, and the full stomach and idleness added to her lethargy. He noticed, apparently.

“Go ahead and sleep. I’ll join you in a little while, after we get some distance from this place.”

She climbed up into her nest, reluctant and alone, and wondered if he really would join her.

***

Aaron jolted awake at the alien sound over the rumble of the truck engines and banging of the crates. A sound he hadn’t heard in months. Gunfire?

The truck slammed to a halt, sending Aaron and Eden sliding forward on the blankets. He tightened one arm around her and put his other hand out to brace them before they hit the frame of the cargo bed.
 

She came awake then, and turned to look at him, but he didn’t have time to explain.
 

“Stay here, stay down,” he snapped, and slid from their perch to creep toward the opening of the truck.
 

Another rattle outside had him ducking. Closer this time. He peeked out to see muzzle flashes over a rise. Shit. Automatic weapons. Just from that he could tell they were outnumbered, and he felt outgunned, even though he’d managed to retrieve their guns from the culvert in Tacoma. He fished his automatic out of his pack and checked the magazine, then jolted when Eden slid up to the tailgate beside him.

“I told you to stay down!”

She pulled out her own gun. “Are we under attack?”

The truck started rolling, putting him off-balance again. He braced himself with a curse, but being on the move was good. The last thing they needed was to become a sitting duck here. He lifted his gun, waiting to fire, not wanting to make them a target, not when Eden was vulnerable.

The collision knocked them both to the bed of the truck. Eden’s gun went flying. He heard it clatter against the metal bed as he caught himself from hitting his head on the corner of a crate. Jesus. He rolled onto his stomach to make sure Eden wasn’t hurt, then belly crawled in the direction of the sliding gun.
 

“What happened?” she asked, breathless.

He knew. “Get your gear,” he grunted as his fingers brushed the butt of the weapon.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her start to climb up the crates.

“Get down!” he snarled, closing his hand around the grip and rolling over to grasp her ankle, yanking her down, feeling only a little bad when she landed hard. “Your pack is up there?”

She nodded, wheezing.

He swore again, then climbed up, quick as he could. He caught the edge of the blanket, yanked, and caught her pack as it tumbled down.
 

“We’re going out the side, under the canvas, and you’re going to follow my directions to the letter, do you understand?”

Her eyes widened when he jabbed his finger toward her face, then she narrowed them, but she nodded. He moved toward the back of the truck, gauging the location of their attackers based on the sound of gunfire.
 

Surrounded. Damn. Just as he expected.
 

“I mean it, Eden. Stay close and do what I say.”

She nodded again. He hooked his pack over his shoulder—damn, he wished he didn’t have to worry about it, but they’d be in bad shape out there in the wilderness without any supplies. He edged to the side of the truck, loosened the canvas and slipped out between the metal bed and the canvas covering. He wanted to reach for her, but needed to be alert, to see if anyone had seen them.

“Now,” he snapped, but before the syllable had died, she was beside him, crouched on the road. He moved along the side of the truck, staying in the shadows as much as possible, listening for her footsteps, for the enemies. They moved from the side of their truck, Aaron peeking in the window only to have his fears confirmed. The driver was dead, the passenger slumped as well. No time to confirm. He had to get Eden out of here.

He led her alongside the front truck, eyeing a rise to the left of it, wondering if they could make it without being seen.

They’d have to chance it because the attackers were going to come claim their prize.

“I want you to go as fast as you can right up there, in a zigzag pattern.” He pointed. “Don’t look back. I’ll be right behind you.”

“The guardsmen—”

“Too late for them. Just go.”

She staggered a little. “What?”

“Goddamn it, Eden, fucking go!”

She took a deep breath and took off, doing as he told her. He held his breath waiting to see if any of their enemies rose to fire, his gun at the ready. When they didn’t, he took off after her, shielding her body with his when shots rang out. Bits of rock and soil struck his legs as bullets impacted the ground around them.
 

Fuck, fuck, fuck! She was too too far from the safety of the rise.

Reaching deep for a surge of energy, he caught up with her, grabbed the back of her belt and hauled her up, almost throwing her over the rise. Her grunt of pain made him flinch but he’d had no choice. He had to get her out of the line of fire. Amid a new hail of gunfire, he scrambled after her, hoping to shit that wasn’t shrapnel biting his legs and ass. He tumbled over the rise, his boots striking something soft, eliciting another grunt of pain.
 

Shit. He crept up, just to make sure they were out of the line of fire, then twisted to look at Eden. She was on her back on the incline, panting, her hand on her side.
 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
 

“Kicked me,” she wheezed. “Just—a minute.”

He didn’t think they had a minute, but if he’d broken her rib, then they were toast. No way could she run. He scrabbled toward her, ignoring the tufts of dry grass that dug into his arms, and pressed lightly on her ribs. She winced but not the way she would if it was broken.

“Knocked the breath,” she gasped.
 

“We’ve got to go.” He closed his hand around hers and scanned the landscape. Trees, not far away. They could make it if she wasn’t hurt. He rolled to his feet, pulling her with him. His legs still stung, but he didn’t have time to check the damage. Again he shoved Eden in front him him, trying to hear the enemy over the sound of their own footsteps pounding dry ground. Eden stumbled and he yanked her upright by the elbow, pushing her forward. His entire body was tense, waiting for the impact of a bullet. The trees grew closer. Closer.

He pushed her into the darkness of the forest and dodged behind a tree, pulling her with him, crouching and drawing her down to a sitting position. He pinned her against the tree and looked around the edge, watching for their enemies.
 

Maybe they wouldn’t attack. Maybe they just wanted the haul. He and Eden were no threat. They couldn’t report the ambush to anyone. They were only in danger if the men wanted to kill them.
 

He waited, still, Eden’s ragged breathing gusting against his throat, her chest heaving against his, the fingers of one hand clinging to his shirt, her other hand gripping her pistol. He tightened his fingers on her hip, reassuring, though he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself.
 

He didn’t know how long they crouched there, but Eden’s breathing evened out, his thighs ached, and no one came over the ridge. He could hear the banging of crates and metal, the slamming of doors, and finally one, then two, then three engines roared to life and the trucks rumbled off.

Only then did he push to his feet and reach for her. “You okay?”

Her eyes were huge in the dim moonlight. “They just killed them.”

His jaw tightened. He couldn’t forget that all this was new to her, fighting and seeing people she knew dead. “They would have killed us, too. You did good, you listened to me. Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

He bent and ran his hand down each of his calves, though the stinging had stopped. No blood. Good.

“We’re going to stay in the trees, but not too deep. We don’t know what kind of wildlife is out there, and I don’t want to waste ammunition if we don’t have to.”

“So we’re walking to Sacramento?”

He looked at her a long moment. What they needed to do was walk to the coast, find a boat, and get back to the safety of the island. It would take less time and made more sense. But he’d made a promise, and Kelly was waiting for them. Her mother was waiting for them.

Instead he said, “We’re walking to Sacramento.”

***

The sun rose shortly after, but the light and heat barely penetrated the forest. Eden shivered and wished for the blanket they’d left behind. Her thermal shirt and flannel weren’t making much of a difference against the damp chill.
 

Aaron kept his gun drawn, and the line of his body was tense as he tried to see in all directions at once in the dim light. The forest was dry, with lots of fallen trees, lots of stumps and branches for them to maneuver around. The ground was cracked and dry. On top of everything else, was the mainland in a drought? That would make food even more scarce. And each step they took crunched leaves and grass, so loud to her ears. Would people hear them coming? That couldn’t be good, so she tried to step lightly, despite her exhaustion.

They stopped briefly around what she figured was lunch time and by nightfall, she could barely put one foot in front of the other. The early season cold front was sapping what little energy she had. But she wouldn’t ask him to stop, not when they had no shelter and she knew he had to be as cold as she was.

Aaron stopped and opened his pack, passed her an MRE. Her thighs protested standing still, and then protested as they started walking again. She may have let out a small whimper because he glanced over.

“I’m looking for a place to stay,” he said, his tone low. He hadn’t spoken much the whole trip, probably afraid to be overheard.
 

She nodded, not trusting her own voice.
 

But they hadn’t encountered even one house. She feared they might be passing them by mere feet, unable to see much through the dense trees.
 

She didn’t know how long they hiked before he said, “There.”

She didn’t know what the hell he saw, because all she saw was tree shadows and darkness. “What?”

“I saw light glinting off something. A window, I think. Come on, sweetheart.”

If she’d been more lucid, she would have wondered about that endearment, but all she could do was put one foot in front of the other and hope he wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t wrong. There was a house, all right, but he pulled her behind a nearby tree when she would have headed straight for it. It was a two-story log house that blended into the forest, and unlike other houses they’d encountered in Tacoma and on the road, it looked well-kept—no weeds growing up or shrubbery taking over.
 

“Someone lives here,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Someone does. If I had a place out here at the end of the world, isolated like this, and I’d been prepared, I would not take kindly to strangers.”

She merely blinked, her brain too foggy to process.

“Think of how your father reacted to strangers coming to the island. Do you think these people would react differently?”

She couldn’t stop the whimper of disappointment, couldn’t stop her shivers. She shook her head. Anyone they came upon here would react as her father had, wouldn’t they? No wonder Aaron and Jodie believed the world would never be the same—people had learned how to look out for themselves, and themselves alone.

At Aarons’s prodding, she forced her feet to move forward again, following him away from the house.
 

He made a sound of alarm, and slammed his body into hers, knocking her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her as something whistled over their heads and stopped with a thud.

“What—?”

“Booby trapped, goddamnit. Keep low, watch where you put your feet. Paranoid bastard.”

She turned to see him inspecting what looked like a spear buried in the trunk of a tree. “Was that—?”