Down

  DOWN

  Praise for the Project Eden Thrillers

  “Sick didn’t just hook me. It hit me with a devastating uppercut on every primal level—as a parent, a father, and a human being.”—Blake Crouch, author of Run

  “A gem of an outbreak story that unfolds like a thriller movie and never lets up, all the way to the last page. Absolutely my favorite kind of story!”—John Maberry, New York Times bestselling author

  “Not only grabs you by the throat, but by the heart and gut as well, and by the time you finish you feel as if you’ve just taken a runaway train through dangerous territory. Buy these books now. You won’t regret it.”—Robert Browne, author of The Paradise Prophecy

  “Like a fever, Sick makes you sweat and keeps you up all night, wondering what the hell is happening. It’ll make your heart race like someone shot you with an EpiPen. You think Battles was badass before? He just cranked it up to 500 joules. CLEAR!”—PopCultureNerd.com

  “Brett Battles at his best, a thriller that also chills, with a secret at its core that’s almost too scary to be contained within the covers of a book.”—Tim Hallinan, author of the Edgar-nominated The Queen of Patpong

  DOWN

  Brett Battles

  A PROJECT EDEN THRILLER

  Book 7

  DOWN Copyright © 2014 by Brett Battles

  Cover art copyright © 2014 by Jeroen ten Berge

  DOWN is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information about the author, please visit www.brettbattles.com.

  What Came Before

  IN THE WAKE of Principal Director Perez’s death, a new Project Eden leadership emerged. Instead of a single person in charge, the principal director’s responsibilities would be shared by a group including Celeste Johnson in New York and Parkash Mahajan in Jaipur. Their goal was simple—to get the Project back on track and lead it into the next phase of building a new, better civilization.

  Curtis Wicks, Project Eden traitor and former Resistance spy, escaped the wreckage of NB219, intending at first to find someplace where he could hide for the rest of his life. But his conscience wouldn’t let him do this. There was a possible way to defeat the Project and he might be the only one who could pull it off. Instead of heading south, he turned northeast, picking up an item he needed on the way to what seemed to be his certain death.

  After waiting out an attempt to expose the survivors of Isabella Island to the Sage Flu, Pax and Robert returned to the mainland to retrieve a ferry. An encounter with a small group of desperate survivors derailed them for several hours, but they eventually arrived back at the island. The survivors were then taken to Limón—first by plane and then a bus—where they joined the Resistance in eastern Nevada.

  Desperate to find his girlfriend Martina, Ben Bowerman searched her hometown before finally traveling to Los Angeles in hopes she had gone to the survival station at Dodger Stadium. On the way to the stadium, he encountered a member of the Resistance named Gabriel who tried to stop him. Not understanding the man was there to help him, Ben made a run for the stadium. His relief at reaching the survival station soon turned sour when he was put in a holding pen. When the doctors at the stadium realized he was immune to the flu, he was moved to a new area, where he met up with several of Martina’s friends. Together, they hatched a plan to escape.

  The Project decided to abandon its base in Mumbai, but the planned destruction of the facility failed, allowing Sanjay and his friends to discover a still functional communications system. Coordinating with the Resistance in America, Sanjay’s people were able to establish a link to the Project’s computer network. While this work was going on, Sanjay, Kusum, and Darshana left on a new mission to gather information about Director Mahajan in Jaipur. There, they discovered that the director’s new assistant was a man named van Assen, someone Sanjay knew from the Mumbai survivor station. Improvising, they staged a diversion and took van Assen hostage.

  Martina was distraught. She hadn’t been able to find Ben anywhere, and, in addition, she had lost her friends. When she remembered others from her group were at the Dodger Stadium survival station, she headed there. But before she reached it, Nyla and Gabriel from the Resistance stopped her and showed her the station wasn’t what it claimed to be. She became determined to get her friends out. Pax and a group of Resistance volunteers flew out to Los Angeles and—with Martina’s, Gabriel’s, and Nyla’s help—defeated the Project and freed the station. In the aftermath, and much to their surprise, Martina and Ben found each other.

  Deciphering Matt Hamilton’s dying words—Augustine dream sky—became Daniel Ash’s and Chloe White’s main focus. When they finally succeeded, they learned Dream Sky was the name of a top-secret Project Eden base. Using the hacked link into the Project’s computer system, they discovered the base’s likely location. Acting on this information, they took a team to the small town of Everton, Vermont. There, they discovered the Resistance spy Curtis Wicks, who confirmed they were at the right place, and if they could take the base, chances were good the Project would fall.

  Around the world, Resistance teams moved into position outside Project Eden bases and survivor stations. Their goal was to create diversions that would draw the Project’s attention away from Dream Sky.

  All they were waiting for was the go signal.

  January 8th

  World Population

  701,217,009

  1

  EVERTON, VERMONT

  1:26 AM EST (EASTERN STANDARD TIME)

  “COPY THAT,” EDWARD Powell said. He muted his mic and turned to Daniel Ash. “All squads in position, Captain.”

  As Ash raised his binoculars and looked across the town, he tried to ignore the tightening in his chest that had been growing all night. If Curtis Wicks—Matt Hamilton’s former inside man at Project Eden—was right about the importance of Dream Sky, then this night could very well end with Project Eden being severely damaged.

  Either that or with the Resistance’s own destruction.

  The only signs of life in town were the Project Eden sentries, all still manning the same positions Ash had noted on his last check. He aimed the glasses toward the edge of the village where the entrance to Dream Sky was located. The solitary building—no more than a hut, really—sat quiet and alone in the middle of a snow-covered field.

  Ash glanced at Wicks and nodded at the pouch in the man’s hand. “You’re positive that’s going to work?”

  “We’ll know soon enough.”

  “Not the answer I was hoping for.”

  “It’s the best I can give.”

  Ash turned to Powell. “Tell them to move in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  __________

  OMEGA TWO STAMPED his boots, trying to fight off the cold seeping into his toes.

  Having grown up in Georgia, he thought he’d lived through some pretty chilly winters, but those were summer days compared to what he’d experienced here. He wouldn’t have thought it possible but sometimes he could feel the cold in his bones. Especially on nights like this, when the sky was clear and the temperature had dropped into negative numbers.

  “Omega team, report,” the voice of Omega One barked over the radio in Omega Two’s ear.

  With a shiver, he responded, “Omega Two. West side, clear.”

  “Omega Three, overview, clear.”

  “Omega Four, northeast, clear.”

  “Roger, Omega team,” Omega One said. “Southeast, clear. Next check, fifteen minutes.”

  Omega Two stamped his feet once more, then stepped from the doorway where he�
�d taken temporary refuge, and resumed his patrol. Thankfully, most of the roads in Everton were regularly plowed by Project personnel. He couldn’t imagine having to also hike through snowdrifts to do his rounds.

  An old church sat on the corner of the approaching intersection. The sturdy, white building with a tall steeple looked like it had watched over the town for hundreds of years. He’d gone inside once and found an unpretentious chapel with a simple cross hanging at the front, the kind of place his mother would have liked.

  He considered going in again, this time to get out of the cold for a few minutes. What would it hurt? The streets were as deserted tonight as they’d been on every shift he’d worked. Yeah, a few minutes would be fine.

  He headed toward a side door he knew was unlocked, but as he crossed the street, he heard a noise off to his right.

  It hadn’t been loud. A thump. Like something falling into the snow about a block away.

  He scanned the area through his night vision goggles but saw nothing more than parked cars and leafless trees and empty homes.

  He took a breath and allowed himself to relax. A clump of snow falling from one of the houses’ eaves, he guessed.

  He started walking again, but had taken only a couple steps before he heard a second thump in the same vicinity.

  “Dammit,” he said under his breath.

  He turned down the street, still thinking his theory was the most likely explanation for the noise, but his job was to check out things like this.

  Paying particular attention to the rooflines, he looked for spots where snow had fallen away but didn’t spot any. He decided to give himself to the end of the next block. If he didn’t find the cause of the noise by then, he’d go back to the church to warm up.

  Thump.

  He stopped. The sound had come from the left, two or three houses ahead. As he started walking again, he heard another noise. Not a thump but a soft repeating sound of something moving across the snow.

  A deer?

  They’d been known to pass through town now and then. Or could it be a deadlier animal, like a wolf or a bear? As far as he knew, none of the other sentries had ever reported seeing either of those so he wasn’t sure they even lived in this part of the country. No sense in taking any chances, though.

  Crouching behind the cars parked along the street, he moved forward, doing his best to minimize the sound of snow crunching under his boots. When he neared the point where the noise was loudest, he paused and peered through a gap between the cars. The noise seemed to be coming from around the side of the house he was looking at.

  He crept forward until he reached the front edge of the driveway. A detached garage sat at the far end, with about a ten-foot gap between it and the house. None of the snow clinging to the eaves of either structure looked disturbed. He lowered his gaze to the driveway. There didn’t appear to be any depression on—

  Check that.

  There were depressions, a trail that started directly in front of the garage and disappeared into the gap between the garage and the house. Even from a distance, he could see the marks were too large to have been created by a deer or wolf.

  He pulled back behind the car and turned on his radio mic. “Omega Two for Omega One. Possible survivors. Requesting backup.”

  He waited for Omega One’s response, but none came.

  “Omega One, this is Omega Two, do you copy?”

  His radio remained silent.

  “Omega Three? Omega Four? Do you copy?”

  No answer.

  “Omega team, this is Omega Two, do you read me?”

  All quiet. He checked to see if the battery had died, but the power light was still on.

  He looked back at the driveway.

  Investigate the noise or find out what happened to the team? If he headed back now, whoever or whatever was making the noise would be long gone by the time he returned. And if he found out the communication problem was a simple fault in his radio, the higher-ups would not be happy he’d let a potential survivor get away.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  He eyed the driveway again. The neighboring house had wide eaves so less snow had gathered under them than on the driveway. If he stuck to the house all the way back, he could at least get a partial view of where the footsteps had gone without creating too much of his own noise.

  He clicked his mic on again. “Omega Two to Omega team. Anyone read me?”

  As he’d expected, there was no answer.

  He pulled his rifle off his shoulder, crossed the sidewalk to the sheltered area under the eaves, and worked his way down. He could now see the depressions didn’t stop mid-garage but continued on, passing through the open gateway into the backyard of the very house he was standing next to. What he couldn’t tell was whether they were coming or going.

  He eased up to the back corner of the house and very slowly leaned forward just enough to peek into the backyard.

  The green-tinted view of his goggles revealed two huddled shapes next to the house. Not deer or wolves or bears.

  Survivors.

  If they heard him before he had a chance to get into a better position, he knew they’d make a run for it. Both Omega One and Omega Four had dealt with fleeing survivors, and from what they’d said, neither experience had been a particularly fun exercise, especially when the chase went off the plowed roads.

  Omega Two looked back at the depressions and smiled when he realized they were pre-made tracks leading exactly to where he wanted to go.

  Screw backup. This was going to be easy.

  __________

  GROUP FOUR CONSISTED of only one person—Chloe White. Ash hadn’t wanted her to go alone, but she argued, “I’ve got the farthest to travel. If someone’s with me, it’ll double the risk of discovery. That doesn’t make sense.”

  Whether he actually saw it her way or not, she wasn’t sure, but he relented in the end.

  So far, the hardest part had been getting into the town. While most of the roads within the city appeared to have been plowed, only two that led in and out had been cleared. Both were in plain sight of the sniper stationed on the building near the town center, so they were not options.

  Chloe had instead entered Everton through a portion of the forest that intertwined with some of the homes on the edge of town, slogging through a few patches of snow that reached as high as her waist. Once there, she was able to use the plowed roads and make it the rest of the way to her holding point without trouble.

  After Powell radioed the order to begin, she moved deeper into the town.

  As she passed the quaint homes and modest buildings, she couldn’t help but get the sense that Everton had been a friendly place before Implementation Day. A place where neighbors knew one another and life rolled along at a leisurely pace. A place she could almost see—

  Out of nowhere, a wave of vertigo swept over her.

  Reflexively, she grabbed at a nearby car but missed and fell to her knees, panting. It took nearly a minute for the sensation to subside enough for her to push herself back to her feet.

  What was that? she wondered.

  As far as she could remember, she’d never experienced a dizzy spell like that before. She would have thought she was coming down with something but she didn’t feel sick at all.

  She looked around to make sure her little episode hadn’t drawn any attention, but when she caught sight of a steeple in the distance, she was overcome again. Fortunately, the feeling wasn’t quite as strong this time and she was able to remain on her feet.

  Earlier that night, when she’d first seen the hut entrance to Dream Sky, she had a strong feeling she had been there before. A possibility that was not entirely out of the question, given that, with the exception of the last few years, she could remember nothing about her previous life.

  When she looked at the steeple, though, the feeling wasn’t that she might have seen it before. She knew she had. Knew she’d been inside the building.

  Flashes in her mind�
��laughter, a handshake, a forced smile.

  What’s going on? Why would I have been here before?

  She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Pull yourself together, dammit. Whatever’s going on in your head needs to wait. You’ve got a job to do. People depending on you.

  When the beat of her heart slowed to a more acceptable level, she opened her eyes again, and, careful not to take another look at the church, continued toward her target.

  __________

  ROBERT ADAMS PUT his arm around Estella, hoping to quell her shivers. While it was unbelievably cold, he knew the weather had very little to do with her chills. He wanted to say something reassuring to her, but they’d been instructed to stay silent until contact was made, so his touch would have to do what his words could not.

  Damn, it was freezing, though. Sure, living on Isabella Island for so long had probably thinned his blood, but he doubted anyone in their right mind, no matter where they were from, would have felt differently if they were in his place.

  The crunch was so soft that he thought he was hearing things, but by the way Estella tensed under his arm, he knew she had heard it, too.

  Was this it? Was it time?

  Staying as still as possible, he listened.

  Another crunch, quieter than the first. Was the noise moving away or…?

  A third, definitely closer.

  A faint gasp escaped Estella’s lips.

  He gently squeezed her again, hoping she couldn’t tell he was as scared as she was.

  The next sound he heard was not a footstep but a voice.

  __________