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  EDEN RISING

  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

  ALSO BY BRETT BATTLES

  THE JONATHAN QUINN THRILLERS

  Novels

  THE CLEANER

  THE DECEIVED

  SHADOW OF BETRAYAL (US)/THE UNWANTED (UK)

  THE SILENCED

  BECOMING QUINN

  THE DESTROYED

  THE COLLECTED

  THE ENRAGED

  Short Stories

  “Just Another Job”—A Jonathan Quinn Story

  “Off the Clock—A Jonathan Quinn Story

  “The Assignment”—An Orlando Story

  THE LOGAN HARPER THRILLERS

  LITTLE GIRL GONE

  EVERY PRECIOUS THING

  THE PROJECT EDEN THRILLERS

  SICK

  EXIT 9

  PALE HORSE

  ASHES

  EDEN RISING

  THE ALEXANDRA POE THRILLERS

  (With Robert Gregory Browne)

  POE

  STANDALONES

  Novels

  THE PULL OF GRAVITY

  NO RETURN

  Short Stories

  “Perfect Gentleman”

  For Younger Readers

  THE TROUBLE FAMILY CHRONICLES

  HERE COMES MR. TROUBLE

  EDEN RISING

  Brett Battles

  A PROJECT EDEN THRILLER

  Book 5

  EDEN RISING Copyright © 2013 by Brett Battles

  Cover art copyright © 2013 by Jeroen ten Berge

  EDEN RISING 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

  THE EARTH WAS forever changed. Project Eden unleashed the KV-27a virus—known to all as the Sage Flu—and watched as the reaping of humanity began. It was part of the master plan, a necessary step toward a restart of the human race in which the Project would control the future.

  Billions had already died, with the promise of more to come.

  In a well-intentioned effort meant to save as many people as possible, the US government set up emergency camps for children and other survivors. Brandon Ash, after escaping the attack on the Resistance compound known as the Ranch, was picked up by military personnel and taken to one such camp in Colorado. It was not long, though, before the virus reached the camp. Brandon, with a few other children and one of the teachers, escaped the outbreak and found a cabin in the mountains to hide in.

  Brandon’s sister Josie and Chloe White left the Ranch to find Brandon. They traced him to the camp in Colorado, and arrived at the cabin as a Project Eden team attempted to capture the children. The kidnapping was averted, and Brandon was reunited with his family.

  Martina Gable and Riley Weber descended out of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, where they left family members who had died, and returned to their hometown of Ridgecrest, California. There, they found several other friends still alive. All had contracted the Sage Flu during the trial outbreak, which had apparently made them immune. Together now, they vow to survive.

  Sanjay and Kusum led their group of survivors away from Mumbai, looking for someplace where they could all stay in safety, eventually finding an abandoned boarding school.

  On Isabella Island, east of Costa Rica, the workers and guests of the island’s resort were spared exposure to the flu during the virus’s initial release. They knew, however, if they were going to continue surviving, they would need to keep anyone else from reaching their shores. Several times they had to turn away boats. They missed one, though—a small boat that drifted ashore with a victim of the virus lying dead inside. Dominic Ray, the resort’s manager, unintentionally exposed himself to the body, and realized the only way to save everyone else was to swim out as far as he could away from the island. With the reluctant help of his friend Robert Adams, he sacrificed his life.

  The Resistance, having failed to stop the pandemic and barely surviving the attack on its main headquarters, was forced to switch its efforts to do what it could to save those who were still breathing—a mission it knew would be more than difficult.

  Then, on December 27th, Principal Director Perez of Project Eden gave the go-ahead, and all over the world, the televisions and radios that had days earlier fallen silent began broadcasting a false message over and over…

  “MY NAME IS Gustavo Di Sarsina. I am the newly appointed secretary general of the United Nations. You are all aware that our planet has been undergoing a catastrophe beyond anything we have ever experienced. The deaths from the Sage Flu are…incalculable. Billions have already died, and many more continue to do so. Friends, family, loved ones. In the span of ten days, the human race has gone from our normal, everyday existence to a desperate race for survival. If you are hearing this, it means you are one of the lucky ones.

  “The good news is, help is now available. A vaccine has been developed, and we are in the process of producing it in large enough quantities so that all those who have survived can receive it. To that end, we need to determine exactly how many of us are left and where everyone is located.

  “The problem we now face is one of communication. Many of the world’s telecom systems have begun to shut down, and we fear the same is starting to happen with power grids worldwide. In an effort to work around this problem, we have set up various means by which you can reach us—Internet, shortwave radio, and even a phone number those of you still with service can try. And if none of those are available to you, we are setting up dozens of what we are calling survival stations throughout the world. These might require a difficult trip, but they are an option. Those of you watching television will see the information scrolling across the bottom of the screen. If you’re listening on a radio, I will give you the numbers and addresses at the end of this message.

  “This is the most important part. Whatever you have been doing to survive, continue to do so. The virus is still out there and contractable. Until you have been vaccinated, you must avoid contact with it at all costs. If you need to travel to one of the survival stations, wear protective clothing and stop for no one.

  “While we at the UN have also been hit, we are still here. Our only goal now is to save everyone we can. As soon as the vaccine is ready, we will get it to you. After that, we will rise above the ashes of this horrible tragedy and ensure that this is not the end of the human race.”

  While the battle to keep the virus from being
released had been lost, the war over who would survive had only just begun.

  1

  A LIGHT CRUNCH of gravel.

  Footsteps, slow and steady, as if uncertain they should be there.

  No surprise in their arrival, though. Matt Hamilton had been expecting to hear them since the moment he’d sneaked out of the Bunker and hiked to the ridge overlooking the Lodge. Time alone was not something he experienced much anymore.

  He folded the piece of paper he was holding and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

  “Matt?” Chloe’s voice.

  Again, not a surprise.

  He waited until she was only a few feet behind him, and said, “It was always too big.”

  In the open meadow below was a pile of burnt rubble that had once been the Lodge. The massive building had not only been the Resistance’s headquarters but also home to most of its members.

  His home.

  “I don’t know,” Chloe said, stopping next to him. “Seemed the right size to me. I liked that I could always find someplace to hide.”

  “It was good for that, wasn’t it?”

  Together they stared silently at the wreckage for a few seconds before Chloe turned to him. “I thought you’d like to know the others will be leaving soon.”

  “Is it time already?”

  She nodded.

  When Project Eden had attacked the Ranch on Implementation Day, less than a week earlier, the members of the Resistance had retreated into the Bunker deep below the Lodge, where they had ridden out the fight, and where they’d continued to live in the days since. But Matt knew the threat of another strike grew exponentially each additional day they remained there, and the next time they might not be as lucky. When he saw the weather projections showing a series of storms heading their way in the coming week, storms that would likely fill their valley with snow and trap them there for months, he knew he had no other choice but to order the evacuation to Ward Mountain, their base in Nevada. It wasn’t as sophisticated as the Bunker, but it would be safer.

  He hoped, at least.

  Leaving the Ranch, though, was a complicated process. They may have lost the battle of keeping the Sage Flu outbreak from ever happening, but they were still in the fight to keep alive those who had survived. To that end, there could be no break in communications with those involved in the worldwide rescue operation the Resistance had initiated. If there were, it very likely would mean the additional deaths of survivors and the Resistance’s field team members trying to help them.

  An additional day was lost while trailers on the back of three semi trucks were converted into mobile communication hubs that could be manned throughout the trip. While this was going on, the other vehicles were packed with all the supplies and weapons they could carry.

  But continuous communications wasn’t the only problem with leaving.

  There was Captain Ash, too.

  The captain had been severely injured in an explosion during the early part of the outbreak. And while Dr. Gardiner was encouraged by Ash’s recovery, he insisted the captain should not travel for at least several more days. It had finally been decided that a small group would stay behind until Dr. Gardiner gave his okay, or, more likely, until the weather forced their hand. Chloe had volunteered, of course, and Brandon and Josie—the captain’s children—refused to go anywhere without their father, so they had stayed, too. Matt had assigned an additional dozen trained men and women to act as escorts in case this second group ran into any problems.

  He had always planned on staying with them, something his sister Rachel was not happy about. He kind of felt it was like being the captain of a ship, and thought it only proper to be the last one to leave. But when he received the message that was now tucked in his pocket, his reason for staying changed completely.

  “Are you coming?” Chloe asked.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “I promise.”

  “All right,” Chloe said. “I’m going to go see if they need any more help.”

  Once the sound of her steps faded into the woods, he double-checked to make sure she was really gone, and then retrieved the piece of paper from his pocket.

  At the top was the message as it had originally been received—a string of letters and numbers and symbols that were unreadable unless you had the key to the code, which Matt did. Below this, scrawled in his own handwriting, was the translation. The only thing consistent between the coded and decoded message was the first line:

  To: MH

  The translated portion then read:

  Have been transferred to NB219 as part of new principal director Perez’s support staff. He has decided that through the end of this phase of the operation, Las Cruces will serve as his base. I in no way believe this will remain true once we move to rebuilding phase. This is an opportunity, my friend. If you wish me to act, please give the order.

  C8

  It was indeed an opportunity. One that could mean everything.

  Matt had already sent a reply.

  I will come to you.

  December 31st

  World Population

  1,122,463,297

  2

  MADISON, WISCONSIN

  FROM THE JOURNAL OF BELINDA RAMSEY

  ENTRY DATE—DECEMBER 31, 5:45 AM CENTRAL STANDARD TIME (CST)

  IT’S SNOWING AGAIN. So I guess that means the university’s New Year’s Eve party will probably be canceled.

  That sounded a lot funnier in my head before I typed it down. I wonder how many people even realize that it is New Year’s Eve. If anyone does, I doubt they care. I know I don’t. What is today but one more day I’m alive? Perhaps the old calendar isn’t even viable anymore. Maybe the day the virus hit should be day one of year one. Or would it be year zero?

  What does it matter?

  I’m not sleeping well. I keep thinking I’m hearing things in the building—someone coming up the stairs, breaking through the barrier I put up, stumbling into my dorm room. In my mind, whoever it is oozes sickness. But so far, if others have come into the building, none have made it this far up. Still, knowing this doesn’t keep me from getting up six or seven times a night just to check.

  By 5 a.m., I’m usually done, and pull myself out of bed. I’m careful with lights, though. I’m afraid of drawing anyone’s attention, so when it’s still dark outside, I never turn anything on in a room with a window. As I write this, I’m sitting on a pillow in the corridor, wrapped in a blanket, and using a desk lamp from one of my floormate’s rooms that I brought out here with me.

  I know at some point I’m going to have to leave. I don’t have enough food to last more than a couple more weeks. What I really need to do is get to the survival station the UN has set up in Chicago. It’s the closest one to me. When I get there, I can get vaccinated. Maybe that’ll relax me enough to get a good night’s sleep. Wouldn’t that be a miracle?

  The snow’s the problem right now. First off, I don’t want to leave during a storm, but the bigger problem is the roads. Those that I can see from my room are completely covered. No one’s clearing them. I have to think it’ll be the same problem on the highway. I mean, even if someone who isn’t sick has a plow, why would they leave their home? So I either wait until the snow melts off the roads, or I hike out.

  I can hear the television down in the common room. It’s still playing the message from the UN secretary general. I’ve pretty much memorized it at this point. I have to say, his voice is comforting. There are TVs on in the other wings of the dorm. I can see them when I look out any of the windows, so I figure leaving mine on shouldn’t draw undue attention. I’ve tried calling the numbers at the end of the message, but even though my phone shows I have a signal, I can’t connect to anything.

  I hope the snow stops soon. I hope we have a few days of warm weather to melt it away.

  I started to write that I hope I don’t die here, but I deleted it because dying here of starvation or exposure has to be better than dying of the Sage Flu, righ
t?

  ISABELLA ISLAND, COSTA RICA

  5:54 AM CST

  THERE WAS THE Before and the After.

  In the Before, when Robert had been the head bartender for the Isabella Island Resort, and routinely worked until three or four in the morning, the only time he would have seen the sunrise was after a particularly late night as he headed off to bed.

  In the After, when Robert no longer poured the drinks, but was the de facto leader of the employees and guests who made up the group of survivors occupying the island, he seldom slept more than four hours a night, and found himself for the fourth day in a row on the beach staring at the horizon as the sun crested the sea.

  Like he’d done every morning of the After, he allowed himself a few minutes to wish there was a way to go back to before Christmas Eve, to the time when the world as he knew it had yet to go insane. In this waking dream, the containers that had been secretly placed around the globe failed to open and spread their deadly cargo of Sage Flu, and his friend Dominic and all the others who had fallen victim to the pandemic would still be alive.