Celeste looked out the window at the dark streets of Brooklyn. Sunrise was still an hour and a half away, but it already felt like the longest night of her life.
Reports of fighting had continued coming in from Project locations around the world. Casualties and damages were heavy in many places, and more than a dozen verified locations had been totally overrun and destroyed. Celeste knew that number would increase.
And then there was Dream Sky, the nucleus meant to ensure that the human race thrived again. Other than the supposedly malfunctioning alarm, there had been no reports of attacks, but until Vintner arrived there and reported back that everything was fine, she couldn’t help but assume the worst.
How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
Not so quickly, a voice whispered in her head. It was one she’d been ignoring for a while, but it was right. Things had been going off the rails since Implementation Day. And the cause of that went back even further.
The so-called Resistance.
The faction had been buzzing around Project Eden for as long as she could remember. Every once in a while, the Project would swat it down, but as far as she knew, none of the previous directorates had thought the Resistance was worth the trouble of eradicating. It had merely been seen as an annoyance that could be pushed to the side when necessary.
That had been a colossal miscalculation.
The buzzing gnat wasn’t a gnat at all, but a colony of wasps that had hives spread nearly as far and wide as Project Eden itself.
Though Celeste had no proof, she was positive the group had been responsible for the destruction of Bluebird and the deaths of the original directorate on Implementation Day. This act of terrorism against the Project had set into motion the series of events that allowed Perez to become principal director in name and Project dictator in reality. Though his reign had been short, it was a disaster nonetheless, ending with yet another Project Eden base destroyed. Courtesy of the Resistance, no doubt.
Those people should have been destroyed years ago, but she couldn’t change the past. She had to concentrate on the now.
That brought up another equally troubling issue. While all bases had security personnel, most were no more than standard guards whose most difficult task was staying alert on duty. They were fine for crowd control at survival stations but any real heavy work was left to the strike teams, which were designed to react to problems quickly and efficiently.
When the Project was being planned, it was assumed the only post-epidemic threats that might arise would involve small riots or the occasional military unit made up of people who had avoided exposure to Sage Flu. The primary response to that would be an aerial spraying of the virus on those causing the problem. If there were survivors, a strike team would finish them off. This meant that a single strike team could cover an area of thousands of square miles. If, for some reason, it required assistance, a neighboring team could be called in.
What hadn’t been expected was anything like the worldwide attack the Project was experiencing now. Strike teams had needed to spread themselves thin, resulting in more casualties than Celeste cared to think about.
The simple fact was, the Project had been pushed to the brink, and like it or not, it was up to her to keep it from toppling over the edge.
First priority was to ensure that Dream Sky was okay. After that, she would consolidate resources and go after the Resistance. And this time it would be no mere fly-swatter job. The Project would have to crush the rebels.
The door to the operations center opened behind her.
“Ma’am?” Dalton said.
Still looking out at the dead city, Celeste said, “Have we heard from Dream Sky?”
“Vintner just checked in. His team is almost there.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right in.”
As the door closed again, Celeste looked east over the soon-to-be-rotting structures of man’s failed society. Her eyes might have been tricking her, but she thought the strip of sky at the horizon was beginning to lighten. Daylight at the end of the long, long night.
A good sign.
She hoped.
17
“Bobby for Blake,” Bobby Lion said into his radio.
“Go for Blake.”
Bobby looked at the monitor. At the moment it was displaying a feed from one of the cameras he’d hastily set up a few hours ago to watch the routes into town. “I’ve got movement on the highway to the north, heading our way.”
“Vehicles?”
“Yeah. Looks like trucks.”
“How many?”
“Unsure. Their lights are off, but there are at least four.”
“Copy that. What about the south?”
Bobby pushed the button that switched the monitor to a feed from the camera aimed on the only other way into town. “Still clear.”
“Okay, thanks, Bobby. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Will do.” Bobby set the radio down and looked over at his partner, Tamara Costello. “I was really hoping they weren’t coming.”
She stared into the woods for a moment and then pushed to her feet.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“It doesn’t take both of us to do this,” she said as she picked up her rifle. “I’m going to see if Blake needs help.”
“If he needed you, he would have said so.”
“If I sit here doing nothing any longer, I’ll go crazy.” She stepped over and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll see you when it’s over.”
“Be careful.”
“When have I not been?”
“Pretty much every day.”
Reni holed up in a house on Mersey Street, where she found winter gear — jacket, sweater, gloves, boots — that fit her well enough. Once outfitted, she spent the next half hour trying to calm down.
Dream Sky had been taken. The base she and the rest of the security force were charged to protect had fallen into the hands of…of…well, not an unruly mob, that was for sure. The invaders were skilled and organized.
Drop it, she told herself. Instead of speculating about who they were, what she really needed to do was figure out her next move.
Contacting another Project base was a no-brainer, but it was not an option at the moment. She hadn’t been able to take any communications gear when she escaped, and the town’s landlines and cell phone towers no longer worked. Perhaps there was an electronics store that sold sat phones, but Everton was small so that seemed unlikely. Besides, any phones she found would likely need charging and the electricity was out.
Hold on, she thought.
If the people who’d taken over Dream Sky were as organized as they seemed, then they would have left some watchers outside. Those people would have radios at the very least, and probably even working sat phones. Find them and she’d find her means of contacting her superiors.
So, where would they be?
At the school in the center of town? Perhaps. It was an excellent position that provided a wide view of the town. The only drawback was that the hut entrance to Dream Sky was far from there. Someplace else, then, that had a closer view of the hut.
The wooded hills just west of the field would provide a good view. The best, in fact.
That must be it.
She left the house and entered the forest at a safe point and worked her way around to the suspected location.
She found two separate camps, about a hundred yards apart. The first was lit by a lamp on the ground and surrounded by equipment boxes, many of which were open and empty. Though she counted only one person, the snow around the area was packed down, leading her to believe many others had been there. On one of the closed boxes she saw the mega jackpot — both a radio and a sat phone. She gave the man a more critical assessment. He was large and had a physique that spoke of a military background. On his hip he carried a pistol, and Reni could see at least one rifle leaning against a nearby tree.