Dark Eden

  Mrs. Goring: You went too far.

  Dr. Stevens: I’m his daughter. I did what I had to do.

  Mrs. Goring: You’re wrong. No one forced you.

  Dr. Stevens: Shut up.

  Mrs. Goring: Her blood is on your hands.

  Dr. Stevens: I said shut up!

  I had a lot of questions as I took two stairs at a time, escaping from the seventh room before they could see me. Was Avery still alive? What had really happened during all of our cures? What had I just witnessed? But I had one answer I knew for sure, and it made me feel scared for every one of us.

  Rainsford had a daughter, and her name was Dr. Stevens.

  That night no one came out of the rooms. There was no greeting for Avery, because Avery didn’t come back. I crept into my bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling, for a long time. The battery on the MP3 player had maybe an hour left, and I kept the earbuds in and my hoodie pulled up just in case. About midnight I got up and peeked into the main room, which was empty and eerily quiet. I tiptoed across to the girls’ quarters and went inside.

  Two empty beds, two full ones. The thought of accidentally waking Kate instead of Marisa weighed heavy on my mind as I stood at the door. Either way, both girls were conked out solid, and I couldn’t see the point of waking Marisa. What could I say? If she had been controlled in a way that made her forget, nothing I said was going to do any good. It would all sound insane, and might even put her and the others in needless danger. I went back to my bed and vowed to keep my mouth shut until morning.

  A person entered the guys’ quarters some time later. I’d been drifting in and out of sleep with my finger on the PLAY button. The door opened and closed, and then the garbled whispering began and I turned on the music, rolling over on my bed so the hoodie flopped over my face. The intruder had to be Rainsford, and he walked back and forth between the beds saying who knew what. I couldn’t hear him, but Connor, Ben, and Alex could. Their dreams were filled with Rainsford telling them what to remember about this place.

  After a while he left and I heard him enter the girls’ quarters. I turned off the music, but the searching whispers remained. I had maybe a half hour of juice left, nothing more, and I let the music play through Kiss and The Who, the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin.

  By the time the music died I was fast asleep.

  Morning at Fort Eden came early. Mrs. Goring was in the main room, banging two frying pans together, and she was in the nastiest mood I’d ever seen.

  “Get up and get out!” she yelled. There was no formal breakfast served, no warm good-bye from the mysterious proprietor, nothing. She stuck a granola bar and a bottle of water in each of our hands as we passed by and answered our questions as tersely as the human language would allow.

  “Is Avery cured? Where is she?” Marisa asked. She was more awake than she’d been the day before, which pleased me.

  “She’s staying an extra day,” Mrs. Goring said, shoving the meager breakfast in Marisa’s hands.

  “No way, alone?” Ben Dugan asked.

  “Ben Dugan, you are a fool. Of course not alone! I’ll be here.”

  “Super fun for Avery,” Kate said under her breath.

  “You I won’t miss,” Mrs. Goring countered.

  “Where do we go?” asked Connor Bloom, who looked half asleep as he walked by and begged for an extra granola bar, which Mrs. Goring would not give him.

  “Same place you came from, up the path. Your ride’ll be waiting.”

  “Tell Rainsford thanks,” Alex Chow said, and I could tell by the sound of his voice that he really was thankful for having been cured. “If he needs another Davis, tell him I’ll be first in line.”

  “I’m not telling him squat!” Mrs. Goring said.

  When my turn came in the line, I waved off the granola bar but took the water. Everyone had gone outside, and it was just us two.

  “Suit yourself,” she said. “Like I care if you starve.”

  I was about to move through the doorway and out into the clearing when she grabbed me by the arm and held me back. She looked into my eyes, searching for something.

  She knows, I thought. She knows, and she’s going to throw me down those stairs so my memories can be erased like the others.

  But then something unexpected happened. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she stared up at me. Her chin wobbled funny, like she was going to weep for some deep regret she didn’t know how to explain. She let me go, leaned over the wobbly metal cart I had come to know so well, and took hold of a small brown box.

  “You won’t know what it means,” she said, “but I have to tell someone, and you’re all I’ve got.” And for once I could imagine her as a young girl of my age, innocent and happy. There was that part of her, locked away; and it proved my point about the power of sound. In her voice was the girl she had once been, before life had disappointed her bitterly. She was not always mean Mrs. Goring. She was once an innocent girl with fears and dreams.

  I took the box and put it in my backpack, then I reached out and touched her on the arm, because it seemed like she needed someone to touch her in a kind way just then.

  “Get on the path, Will Besting. And don’t ever try to come back,” she said, the old salt returning.

  I wanted to tell her that I could probably make it back here the next day if only I had a driver’s license, but I let it pass.

  On the long walk up the path, I stayed next to Marisa, and we talked about nothing special. My hearing was at around 70 percent, so I leaned in a lot when she spoke, which she seemed to like. I could hear the crows following us at a distance in the canopy above, as they’d done on the way in, cawing back and forth. Were they happy to see us leaving, or just annoyed at our presence in the thick of the woods?

  “Does everyone still have symptoms?” I yelled ahead to the group that led.

  The consensus was yes, everyone was still suffering from some strange ailment, and I began to wonder if we’d all left something at Fort Eden that we’d never get back.

  Ben Dugan surprised everyone when he yelled Avery’s name over our heads.

  “Avery Varone! You’re back!”

  She was jogging up the path, trying to catch up to us as we stopped.

  “Thank God,” I mumbled, “she’s okay.” Deep inside I was thinking how great it was that Fort Eden wasn’t a murder scene and that my life would not become hopelessly complicated after all. Avery Varone, not dead, meant a lot. It meant I could forget everything that I’d seen if I wanted to and it wouldn’t matter. We were all cured, and no one was terribly hurt. As bizarre as the experience had been, at fifteen, I could imagine letting that be enough.

  “So, are you better?” Kate asked. She’d come through the throng of people and met Avery first. She didn’t wait for an answer while Avery caught her breath. “Yep, she’s cured. A girl knows.”

  Avery nodded, smiling, and we all seemed to notice the change in her at once.

  “Very goth of you,” Kate commented, picking up a long strand of Avery’s hair that we all saw had turned white.

  “I know, right?” Avery said. “It’ll grow out. No worries.”

  We talked a little more, but the white van awaited, and we all wanted to go home. Everyone pulled out their phones along the way, still finding no signal; and they all discovered that if they had taken any pictures, those pictures were gone. They didn’t care about this detail as much as they should have, and I was convinced that this was all part of the plan. Get cured, go away, remember nothing.

  When we’d climbed the entire path and the trees around us had fallen away, the morning had already turned warm. Sweatshirts were wrapped around waists and bottles of water were drained. Dr. Stevens and her white van were not there, so we waited, wondering what we were supposed to do.

  A few minutes passed and then a sound came from up the washboard road. We saw the dust rising off the top of the road first, then the dirt bike. It wasn’t Dr. Stevens in the white van, not yet.

&
nbsp; “It’s him,” said Avery, smiling as she tucked the wiry white strands of hair behind her ear. “He came back, just like he said he would.”

  “Who did?” asked Ben Dugan.

  “Davis,” said Kate, a sliver of jealousy returning to her voice.

  “Maybe he’ll let me ride his bike,” said Connor. “Should I ask him?”

  “Not a great idea, bro,” Alex confided, and I had to agree. Connor Bloom was still a little on the wobbly side. He’d stopped twice on the way up the trail, leaning hard against a tree. Putting him on a dirt bike seemed like a terrible idea.

  A plume of dirt rose off the back of Davis’s bike as he came near. He wore a white T-shirt, jeans, boots, and no helmet. He’d been cured, like the rest of us, so maybe he’d developed a fear of anything being placed on his head. Either way, the look suited him, and I was glad once more that he’d chosen Avery over Marisa from the start.

  “So you guys are a wrap, huh?” he said, killing the engine as he arrived, and we all circled around a 500cc dirt bike that looked made for riding through the woods.

  “Sweet ride,” Connor said, nodding appreciatively.

  “Don’t let him near it,” Kate warned. “He’ll run us all over.”

  We all laughed, and Davis smiled broadly. He didn’t get off the bike, glancing around at the group. The sun was up over the road behind me, so when our eyes met, he squinted into the bright light.

  “Good to see you, Will. Everything cool?”

  The question was like a wink—Did you get the music I left for you? Do you remember? Did you figure anything out?—but it felt like the wrong time to give anything away. I needed to be free and clear of this place and get my head straight. It didn’t matter though. Avery Varone was getting on the bike, which pulled everyone’s attention away from me.

  “Hey, if you’re giving rides, count me in,” Kate said, and I felt a little worried for Avery. Kate Hollander on the back of the bike with her arms and legs wrapped around Davis . . . well . . . not too many guys I know could experience that without thinking twice.

  Avery shocked everyone with her reply.

  “Tell Dr. Stevens I’ll meet you guys back in the city,” she said. “I raced up here so fast I forgot to bring my bag.”

  “You want me to take you back?” Davis asked.

  Avery’s arms were already around his middle, her cheek resting on his white T-shirt.

  “Here comes Dr. Stevens,” I said, seeing the dust start to rise way up the long hill, the white van off in the distance.

  “Go, Davis,” Avery said; and looking at her, I saw that her eyes were closed. “Just go.”

  The engine fired and our circle parted. There was something very cool about the whole thing, and everyone began to cheer them on. But I had mixed emotions as Davis shrugged, smiled, and put the bike in gear.

  “Enjoy being cured, you guys,” he said, and they started down the path.

  Marisa waved and hopped up and down.

  “I can’t believe he came back for her,” she said, taking hold of my hand.

  “God, it’s like a lovefest around here,” said Kate, the most popular girl somehow managing to end up alone at the end. Connor and Ben each put an arm around her as the van rolled up, and this seemed to bring her around.

  I looked down the path, listening for the dirt bike. But it was already outside my range of hearing. Seeing them go down there, where the trees turned the path dark and shadowy, I was really glad for Avery Varone and thought again about how much I knew. I wondered if, later on, after I’d had time to think about it, I’d wish I could forget like all the rest.

  Dr. Stevens was all smiles, excited to see everyone and especially curious about me. She searched my eyes, and when it appeared that I’d passed some sort of test, we all began piling into the van. She took the news of Avery’s departure in stride.

  “I’ve known Davis a long time,” she said. “He’ll get her home.”

  “Wherever home is this week,” Kate said, getting in one last jab, but then apparently thinking twice. “Okay, that was beneath even me. Wipe it from your memories, folks.”

  “You’re right, that was beneath you,” said Dr. Stevens, and then she let slip a piece of information I knew was more important than it seemed on the surface. “She’s with me now. The last place didn’t work out, and I decided ten homes was enough.”

  Dr. Stevens had become Avery’s foster parent. How convenient, I thought. If Avery had died during her cure, Dr. Stevens probably would have had a way to make her disappear.

  When I reached the backseat of the van, Marisa sat next to me. Ten minutes later she was sleeping with her head against my shoulder and we were out on the highway heading back into the city. I opened my backpack and searched inside, finding the small box Mrs. Goring had given me. It was tied shut with a piece of twine, which I untied and dropped into my bag.

  Inside the box I found my Recorder and, cycling through the menu, discovered many files. All the audio files I’d taken from Dr. Stevens’s office were there, plus every audio file I’d recorded at Fort Eden. All the photos I’d taken and all the videos I’d shot, all of them were there and more. And Mrs. Goring had added more things for me to listen to, more things to watch.

  The conversation between Rainsford and Dr. Stevens rose up in my memory.

  I’m not sure she can be trusted.

  Don’t be ridiculous. Of course she can. She’ll play her part; I’ll see to it.

  It was not Avery or Kate or Marisa they didn’t trust. It was Mrs. Goring.

  I looked up at Dr. Stevens, who was staring at me in the rearview mirror, and wondered what I was going to do.

  You were right about her, I thought. She’s betrayed you.

  But what did that even mean?

  I would discover, on that very night, the whole truth of the matter.

  It was far worse than I’d imagined.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  .....................................................................

  RAINSFORD

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  .....................................................................

  ONE MONTH LATER

  We asked you a question, Will. Why are you hiding in this room all alone?

  Because I knew. I knew, and I was afraid.

  I remember when I was in the bomb shelter all alone, I thought about what would happen if someone found me. I came up with that answer based solely on the idea that I was afraid of being with other people. It had nothing to do with Rainsford or what happened to us at Fort Eden. I was just too afraid to go inside and face my fear.

  As it turned out, I never had to deliver that answer in the bomb shelter at Fort Eden; and, in the end, I’m not sure how I feel about that. If someone would have come looking for us and found me hiding there, everything about my life and the lives of the others would have been different. None of us would have been cured. We’d all still be mired in darkness, trying and failing to make ourselves well again. But we’d each paid a price, some bigger than others; and I knew things no person should be forced to know alone.

  Connor Bloom still hasn’t recovered from his dizzy spells, which has brought his athletic career to an end. Everyone is saying he was hit too hard one too many times as he carried the ball, but I know better.

  Ben Dugan called me just this morning, and I asked him again, like I always do: how are your hands feeling? He says he’s gotten used to it—the pain in his joints—that it’s gotten a little better.

  Kate still has the headache that won’t go away.

  Alex’s feet fall asleep all the time, so he can’t do driver’s ed until they get it figured out.

  I have fallen head over heels for Marisa, who is sleeping on the small couch in my room as I say these words into my Recorder. She sleeps a lot. She always will.

  One week later, I know I’ll nev
er get all my hearing back. I’ve settled for 70 percent and hope it won’t get worse. But it will. I’m nearly positive I’ll be totally deaf by the time I’m thirty, but I hold out a little bit of hope.

  I feel certain about the lasting nature of these ailments because Mrs. Goring explained a few things to me. She didn’t just give me back my Recorder; she filled it with things I wish I hadn’t discovered. It began with her voice, quieter than usual, and more human.

  I’ve carried these secrets for sixty-two years, but the time has arrived for me to speak, and speak I will. Hear me, Will Besting. Hear me and know.

  The first thing I would like to say is that he chose poorly. He should have known better. I might have been afraid, but I was not a pawn. It takes a certain kind of strength to sit in the seventh chair. I had the vigor for it. I could endure. But I was not the person he thought I was, and this has brought me to you, Will, at the twilight of my years.

  My name is Cynthia, same as your doctor. This whole ‘Mrs. Goring’ business was for show. Rainsford has been my husband these many years, and Dr. Stevens—or Cynthia, as I prefer to call her—is my daughter. As you are probably well aware by now, Cynthia is very attached to her father. She has done many bad things for him, although it’s hard to say how much she really knows half of the time. You’ve seen the power Rainsford wields. My guess is, that power is amplified in Cynthia. She does as he says.

  Cynthia gathered the seven. It was her primary purpose, at least so far as Rainsford was concerned. She was given the assignment without my knowledge—I want that known, so don’t leave it out. Your arrival and the arrival of your friends was sudden. I had very little to do with the proceedings. It was the two of them mostly.

  The hardest part of what I must tell you is easier to show you. There’s also the simple matter that you won’t believe me if I say it. Don’t lose heart, Will Besting. I’ve taken you this far; you must go with me the rest of the way. You must come out of the dark where you hid in the hall. You can’t turn back and run up those winding stairs this time. Now you will stay, come into the room, and see. Now you may open your eyes.