Retracing the path the relief crew had taken, he met up with the other members of Omega team. Like always, no one said a word as they walked out of town, passed the dead-end barrier that marked the end of the road, and into the snow-covered field. Sitting in the center of the clearing was a five-by-four-foot, concrete-sided building. To the casual observer, it looked like nothing more than a pumping station or perhaps a utility hut. It had a single door and no windows, and was painted a light shade of gray.
What the casual observer would not notice, even if he or she had moved in for a closer examination, were the micro cameras fitted into the eaves on all sides. They looked like nothing more than holes where screws were embedded.
And while there was a dead-bolt key slot on the door, it was only for show. The real lock was triggered by those on the inside.
Omega team trudged across the field to the building and stopped five feet in front of the door, as they’d been trained to do. For several seconds nothing happened, and then there was a faint click.
Omega One grabbed the handle of the door and pulled it open. One by one they filed inside the twenty-square-foot room, the last, Omega Four, securing the door behind him.
There were no pipes on the walls, no electrical junction boxes, no pumps, no transformers, no telecommunications switches. There were simply a light in the ceiling that came on when the door was closed, and a round metal cover on the floor.
Several more seconds passed before the hatch lifted soundlessly, revealing the forty-foot vertical tunnel that led to Project Eden’s most secret base.
To home, as Omega Three had come to think of it.
To Dream Sky.
January 7th
World Population
786,910,553
20
The closest airport to Ward Mountain large enough to accommodate the Boeing 757 carrying the survivors from Isabella Island was in Salt Lake City. Unfortunately, with no one working maintenance, the runways at SLC were buried under several feet of snow, rendering them unusable. The next closest airport was in Las Vegas.
The plane was met there an hour after it landed by three tour buses driven by Resistance members. The first stop was a restaurant on the edge of town, where other Resistance members had been dropped off earlier to prepare dinner for everyone.
There was little talk as the island’s survivors ate and then climbed back on the buses. Within a few miles after hitting the road again, most were asleep.
Pax wasn’t one of them. As the bus headed north, he rose from his seat and moved to the front. There, he took a spot on the exit stairs, leaned against the wide dash, and stared at the road ahead.
His was the first of the three buses, so the headlights lit up only asphalt and dirt and brush. He wasn’t looking at any of it, though. No longer needing to worry about keeping Robert and his people alive, he was finally facing something he’d been trying hard to ignore.
Matt was dead.
That didn’t seem possible. He desperately wanted someone to tell him Matt’s death had been a trick, that when he reached Ward Mountain, Matt would limp out to the bus to greet Pax, a stupid grin on his face.
Pax couldn’t picture how they would move forward now. Matt had not only been the brains of the Resistance, but also the soul. How could that void ever be filled?
And then there was Billy, too, the Ranch’s former doctor. It had been less than three weeks since he’d died in the explosion in Cleveland.
Pax’s two best friends in the world — gone. Both died because of the Sage Flu, but neither from it.
Memories of conversations and trips and projects they had all been a part of spun through his mind, until he forced himself to stop. He started to think about the future, about what they were going to do, but that just circled him back to the loss of Matt and Billy and so many others.
What finally saved him was focusing on what Captain Ash had asked him about.
What about the letters DS together? They sound familiar?
Pax had never heard the phrase Augustine dream sky before, but the letters DS? Definitely. From Matt himself, years ago.
Could what Matt had thought they represented be true?
As the bus suddenly came to a stop, Pax blinked and looked around. They appeared to be in a town.
He turned to the driver — Juliana Herbert — and said, “Is something wrong?”
“We’re here,” she told him.
“Here where?” This wasn’t Ward Mountain.
“Ely,” she said. “We cleared out a couple of hotels. There’s a La Quinta right over there.” She pointed to her left and then gestured to the right. “And a Motel 6 half a block that way. There’ll be some sharing, but there are more than enough beds.”
Of course.
If he’d been thinking clearly, he’d have realized there wasn’t enough room for everyone at Ward Mountain. The facility could accommodate less than half the personnel the Ranch had been able to house.
“We’re not leaving them alone, are we?” he asked.
She shook her head. “We’ve got people to help with logistics, and a couple of medical folks to tend to the sick and anyone who needs attention. Ward Mountain will also be in constant touch, so if need be, we can get people over here in a hurry.”
Pax could hear some of the people stirring behind him. He was about to go back and wake Robert when a van pulled to a stop next to the bus. The two occupants jumped out, opened the side cargo door, and started pulling out armfuls of what looked like cloth bags.
After each man was loaded up, the newcomers approached the bus door.
“You’re going to want to get back,” Juliana said.
Pax moved into the central aisle but stayed near the front.
When the doors opened, a blast of frigid air rushed inside. The two men from the van hurried in, and Juliana quickly closed the door again. The damage was already done, though. The temperature — at least at the front of the van — had dropped a good fifteen degrees.
“How many you have in here?” one of the men asked Juliana.
“Forty-eight,” she replied.
“Here,” the man closest to Pax handed him the items in his arms. “We need to get a few more.”
Coats, Pax realized. The subzero type skiers used.
The second man set his pile at Pax’s feet, then he and his partner headed back out. As more cold air rushed in, Pax started passing out the jackets.
“I’m going to wish I stayed on the island, aren’t I?” Robert said when Pax reached his seat.
“Don’t worry,” Pax said. “It’ll probably hit thirty degrees here in a day or two.”
“Celsius or Fahrenheit?”
Pax tossed him a coat and moved on.
After he passed everything out, he returned to Robert and said, “Can I borrow you for a second?”
“Sure.” Robert looked over at his seatmate, Estella. “Be right back.”
Pax led him outside and explained the lowdown on the living situation.
When he was through, Robert asked, “What about the ones with the flu?”
“Medical team on site.”
“Are you staying?”
“Wish I could, but I’ve got work to do. Our facility is just over the hill, not more than twenty minutes away. If you need to talk to me, grab one of our people and they’ll get me on the line.”
Robert seemed disappointed, but said, “Okay.”
“I realize this isn’t the perfect situation, but—”
“No, it’s all right. Really. We’re all just glad we’re still alive. Someday it would be nice to go somewhere warm again, but for now this will do fine.”