Eden's Promise (2 page)

“Maybe everything will come back on tomorrow,” she said soothingly. “Who knows, we may wake up to Good Morning America, and this might all be just a damaged satellite or something.” She hooked her hand through her father’s arm and drew him toward home, partly to get him away from the increasingly agitated crowd and partly to question him on his declarations.
 

He didn’t want to go with her, she could tell by the resistance in his arm, but he must have seen the urgency in her expression because he turned to follow.

“Dad, I know you’ve thought about this a long time and everything but you can’t mean no one can come home.”

He gritted his teeth. “My priority is taking care of the people on this island. That means isolating us.”

“Even from our own family members?”

He stopped and looked down at her. “Eden, your sister hasn’t been home in years, hasn’t spoken to us in years. You think she’ll suddenly be in contact?”

“If she’s scared, yes. You know she’ll be scared, Dad.” She shivered just thinking about how vulnerable her sister was, on the other side of the channel. “I want to go get her.”

He started walking again. “Absolutely out of the question. There’s already unrest over there. As strong as you are, as smart as you are, I’m not sending you over there.”

“I thought you and I could go.”

He shook his head. “I can’t leave the island, and if I let you go, others will want to go, as well. I’m responsible for the safety of the people here on this island. Your sister made her choice.”

***

The next morning the knock on the door woke them, though Eden hadn’t been asleep long, listening to her parents fight over Kelly. Her mother’s tearful pleas had become angry and doors had slammed. Eden’s own throat tightened as she thought about how her father’s had hardened his heart toward his own daughter. Didn’t he worry about how afraid she was?

Curious about how could be at the house just after dawn, Eden came down the stairs to see her father open the door. She heard the words “missing” and “boat,” and her stomach dropped to see John Rayburn standing on the porch, his eyes shadowed, his shoulders bent with pain. Beside him, his wife Veronica sobbed into a handkerchief.

Oh, God, no. She gripped the rail and willed this all to be a dream.

“Rick didn’t come home after the meeting last night,” John said. “We drove all over the island because we didn’t want to think he’d be so stupid, but his boat is gone. We’re afraid he went to the mainland. He wouldn’t do something so foolish, would he?”

“Last night he and the Wayne boy were talking about it,” Eden admitted, stepping forward, a slash of pain riding through her as the Rayburns turned toward her. “I told them not to even think about it but they thought they’d go see what was going on.”

Veronica lowered her handkerchief and looked at Eden, eyes bright with betrayal. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Helplessness washed over her, settling in her stomach. “I didn’t think they’d do it,” she said. “Dad and Mr. Lopez were arguing and I forgot. I swear, I never thought they’d really do it. They’re just boys.”

Veronica burst into tears. “And now they’ll never find their way back, without the lighthouses.”

“They will. They’re smart boys. They’ll be home soon,” her father said, putting himself between her and a suddenly very angry, very big John Rayburn. “They’ll see what a mistake it was and come home. I’m sure of it.”

But they didn’t, not that night, or the next. Despite her father’s protests, another group of six men went to search for them. They didn’t return, either.

The next morning, all the boats in the harbor had been sunk.

***

Her father instructed Damien Morgan and his friends to patrol the side of the island facing the mainland at night, enforcing the directive that the residents kept their lights out, and to make sure no boats came from the mainland overnight. John Rayburn and Marcus Wayne joined them most nights, hoping for a sign of their sons.

Eden wanted to throw up every time she thought of how she could have prevented those young men from leaving, and the other men who’d gone to search for them, leaving families behind. What had happened? What had they found on the other side of the channel?

A few weeks after the television signal went out, the sound of a motor carried across the water, and the townspeople gathered on the shore despite the cold of the late November day. They’d fallen into routines—some the same as always, others markedly different, with no communication with the outside world—but an arriving boat caused a stir.
 

Damien moved to the head of the crowd, watching the boat approach, a rifle braced casually on his hip. Eden moved to stand beside him, tense with the possibility of what he might do. She’d gotten to know him better the past few weeks, since he and her father began working more closely together, and she didn’t entirely trust his judgement. He was more militant than her father, and if he had his way, she feared they’d have martial law. He glanced at her, as if he sensed her intentions, and headed toward the dock. She followed.

The approaching boat was small, but carried seven people that she could see, including three children. Too many people for a small craft crossing the expanse of water. She scanned their faces. None were familiar, not Candace’s grandchildren or Mary’s son Aaron.

Not her sister.

The newcomers powered up to the dock, looking at the sunken boats around them which had yet to be removed. They looked at Damien and his friends, armed and alert. Eden could only imagine their fear.

“What are you doing here?” Damien asked.

“We’ve come for shelter. We thought this would be a safe place,” one man said.

“We’re not taking refugees.”

“Please, we brought food to share, medicine, whatever we could manage,” one woman said, holding the smallest child against her.

“We’re not taking refugees,” Damien repeated.

Eden put her hand on his arm. “Let’s at least hear what they have to offer, and maybe they can tell us what’s going on.”

Damien looked at her a long minute, then nodded curtly before turning back to them. “Just because I’m letting you off your boat doesn’t mean you’re staying,” he cautioned them.

The pilot powered the boat to the dock, tied it up and shut off the engine. The resulting silence was deafening. The entire town watched as the seven climbed out of the boat and made their way up the dock, the women putting their bodies between the children and the guns.
 

Veronica Rayburn ran forward and caught one man’s arm. “Have you seen two young boys? Two teen-aged boys, one scrawny and one a farm boy? They left here two weeks ago on a boat. We don’t know—we don’t know what happened to them.”

The man shook his head, and Eden was close enough to see his eyes were haunted.
 

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry.”

“Is it bad there?” someone else asked. “What happened?”

“Let’s get them to town hall and we can hear what they have to say there,” Eden said.
 

Damien sent Patrick, one of his friends, for her father and led the way into town. She helped herd the newcomers toward the building. The rest of the town filed in, oddly silent, anxious to hear news.

“What happened?” Eden asked the man who had piloted the boat, the apparent leader. “We haven’t had any news since early November. What caused this?”

He shook his head. “We have no communication, either, so all we know are rumors. But apparently the satellites are out. Some places are without power, but some still have it. The places that do are being overrun by people leaving the cities. There’s no gas, grocery stores are empty, so are drug stores. People are losing their tempers, fighting, turning against each other. Neighborhoods are being overrun, there are home invasions. We didn’t feel safe there, anymore, and we’d been here for your fall festival in October and remembered how gorgeous and welcoming it was here. It seemed...safe.”

Terror gripped her as she pictured her sister going through that panic, that fear. Was she safe? Did she have supplies? Guilt swamped Eden as she recalled the fresh eggs she’d had for breakfast.
 

Eden’s father walked in then. “What skills do you have that can contribute to our community?” he asked without preamble.
 

The man who’d been speaking blinked. “I—I’m a lawyer.”

Eden’s father snorted. “Worthless now.”

“I’m a teacher,” the woman said, leaning forward around one of the children.

“I can fish,” the second man said, desperation coloring his voice.

“Look around you,” Eddie McKay said. “All these people can.”

“Yes, but I can provide for these people. We won’t use your supplies. We just want a safe place to stay. This is my wife and my two kids. He’s my brother. Please.”

Eddie considered, then shook his head. “No. We can’t use you. You have to find someplace else.”

The woman with the two kids widened her eyes. “You’d send us back? People are—people are—” She looked down at her children. “The violence is terrible. I can’t risk my children.”

“We don’t have enough supplies to shelter people who come to us. I’m very sorry.”

“The children, then. Can you take them?” she asked, her voice rising. “Please. It’s Thanksgiving. Please.”

Her words jolted Eden. She’d lost track of the days without mail and a regular schedule. How could she have forgotten Thanksgiving, when this year they had so much to be thankful for? Perhaps it didn’t seem it, but they were alive, and safe from the violence, and had plenty of stores, thanks to her father’s paranoia.

Eden knelt before her and put a soothing hand on hers. She turned to look up at her father. “Dad, you can’t. It would be heartless.”

His eyes softened when he looked at her. “I know the consequences, Eden, but we can’t afford to risk our own lives by running out of supplies. They need to go, if they can’t contribute.”

“I can do anything,” the lawyer said, his voice rising in desperation. “I can—any place you need me.”

Her father opened his mouth to say something but John Rayburn stepped forward.
 

“I own a farm. My son is gone, I need an extra hand.”

“I’ll do it,” the man said, rising to his feet. “Whatever you need. Whatever you need. Thank you. Please. Please let us stay.”

Her father snorted and spun away on his heel.

***

That was the last time her father showed mercy. The boats came with fair regularity. Her father interviewed each—privately now, occasionally with Damien—but without the entire town watching. He sent most away, in tears and pleading, but a few were allowed to stay. A mechanic and a plumber now lived on the island with their families. The additions made the distribution of supplies decrease for every family. Since Eden was in charge of the distribution, she knew the dangers of allowing more people to stay, though sending them away made her feel less and less human each time. The stories the people told, the pleas they made to be allowed to stay, chilled her to her bones.
 

“Dad, we need to think about going to the mainland and try to find supplies before there are no more left,” she said one morning, entering his office.
 

He looked up. “We’re fine. And you’ve heard the reports coming from the people who try to come here about what it’s like over there. The supplies aren’t there, either, and it’s too dangerous to send anyone across. Already we’ve lost eight people who tried. We’re fine for now with the Rayburn and Wyatt farms, and fishing. I’m not willing to risk anyone yet.”

She was convinced he was wrong about waiting—the longer they waited, the harder supplies would be to come by. The people on the mainland would deplete them. Since they still had really no idea what had happened, they had no idea when trucks might start running again. Thank God they were able to supplement their supplies with fish, and almost every family now owned a couple of chickens for eggs. The time of year was wrong for growing vegetables, but carefully rationed canned goods supplemented them for now. She could see them running out of vegetables before the spring.

She hated thinking like this, hated the urge to horde. But she hated the idea of turning frightened people away. If only they had more supplies.

Her father was more likely to welcome people who came with a large stash of their own, but very few did. No one had wanted to believe this could happen.

Eden still couldn’t believe it had.

***

“We need to do something for Christmas,” Sarah said one evening over dinner.
 

They had started eating dinner just after dark to save power. Since they used the generator to cook, it made sense to make the evening stretch just a little longer before shutting it off again and going to bed.
 

“I don’t think anyone’s exactly in the Christmas spirit,” her husband said with a snort.

“That’s kind of my point.” Sarah set her fork down and folded her hands under her chin. “People need a reason to feel happy again. I know it’s hard, especailly since so many of us are missing our loved ones. But I think it would be good for morale.”