THE BANE
Book One in The Eden Trilogy
Keary Taylor
Copyright © 2013 Keary Taylor
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.
First Print Edition: March 2013
Cover Design by Keary Taylor
Cover Image by Shutterstock
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Taylor, Keary, 1987-
The Bane : a novel / by Keary Taylor. – 1st ed.
ISBN 978-0615769806
The Bane: Book One in The Eden Trilogy is also available as a paperback.
Also by Keary Taylor
THE EDEN TRILOGY
The Ashes: An Eden Prequel
The Raid: An Eden Short Story
FALL OF ANGELS
Branded
Forsaken
Vindicated
Afterlife: the novelette companion to Vindicated
What I Didn’t Say
BANE – noun
1. A person or thing that ruins or spoils.
2. A deadly poison.
3. Death; destruction; ruin.
4. Obsolete: that which causes death or destroys life.
ONE
“Good-bye my friend,” Avian whispered. His eyes closed with silent words of regret that echoed through the rest of us.
We all shut our eyes as Avian pressed the device to Tye’s arm. The back of my throat tightened when I heard the sharp hiss of the cybernetics under his skin short out and die. Agonizing seconds later, he took his last gasping breath.
Avian set down the one piece of technology that existed in Eden on the wooden table. I finally opened my eyes again when I heard his suppressed sob. Bill and Graye bowed out of the medical tent silently, unable to deal with Avian’s grief in addition to their own.
I couldn’t keep my eyes away from Tye.
His body lay limp on the table, one of his legs about to slip off. His left arm rested at his side, the skin shredded and torn where he had tried to rip it off. The dirty, bloody wires and metal bones shone from underneath. His head lolled to one side, staring emptily at me with one still-human eye and one cybernetic one.
I wished Avian would stop sobbing. I should have tried to comfort him, but what do you say to the man who had just killed his own cousin?
Avian looked up at me from where he stood with his hands braced on the table next to the body. “Thank you for bringing him back, Eve.”
I bit my lower lip and managed a small nod. He held my eyes for a long moment, each of us knowing what the other was thinking. We would never hear Tye’s hesitant laughter again, never urge him to take a break from his post to eat a few bites. He would never hunt in the woods or go on a raid again.
“I don’t understand,” Avian said quietly. “They don’t attack at night. We’re supposed to be safe when it’s dark.”
“I don’t understand either,” I replied. There were certain rules when it came to the Bane. Inactivity during the night was one of them. Night time was the one advantage we had over them.
“Let me help you,” I offered as Avian started picking up the body. He graciously accepted, his entire frame trembling as we carried what was left of Tye to the furnace. We couldn’t even bury our fellow men and women in the ground after they were infected – which meant we could never visit their graves. Even destroyed cybernetics were too dangerous to keep around. They were melted down and transported away.
Avian collapsed to the ground as we slid the heavy door closed. Another round of tears consumed him as I lit the fire beneath it. I sank to the ground next to him, hugging my knees as I watched the flames grow in intensity and consume Tye.
All it had taken was one brief touch from the Bane. Tye had tried ripping his own arm off before the infection it carried could spread any further. It was useless. Less than an hour after being touched, Tye’s eye started changing. He’d turned on us within three hours and tried to return to the city. It had taken the entire unit to drag him back to Avian. Bill had to knock him unconscious so he wouldn’t try to kill us all.
“Why don’t you go to bed?” I said quietly as I stared at the flames. “I can take care of things.”
“No,” Avian said as he shook his head, wiping a few tears away with the back of his hand. “I can handle it.”
“You don’t have to,” I tried to argue, but only half-heartedly.
“Go home, Eve. You’ve done your job.”
I stood and walked out of the tent.
Small fires glowed in the darkness, scattered about in the village of tents. I avoided eye contact and pushed the flap of my own tent aside and stepped into the darkness. My worn-out cot felt more uncomfortable than ever as I collapsed onto it. I stared up at the blackness above me, my arms resting above my head. The sound of Sarah’s breathing a few feet away let me know she was still awake.
We lay silently for a few minutes. Tye’s death would be as hard on Sarah as it was on Avian, brother and sister in painful loss.
“How’s Avian?” she finally spoke.
“I helped him with the furnace but he sent me back,” I forced the words out of my mouth. All I wanted to do now was sleep.
Sarah was silent again and I knew there would be tears rolling down her pale cheeks. I understood why she had not come to the farewell. It killed a little piece of us all whenever we attended one.
I faintly heard her roll away from me before I fell off the cliff of consciousness into the dark.
TWO
My eyes slid open to meet the darkness above, adrenaline and relief flooding my system at the same time. We all occasionally screamed in our sleep, every one of us still haunted by nightmares. At night your mind can turn against you and show you cybernetic-infested friends, make you feel your cells harden and turn you against everything that made you who you were.
I pulled myself up, listening for sounds outside. It was early, the sun still struggling to make its way above the mountaintops. Everything was silent.
Wearing the same clothes I had worn yesterday on the raid, Tye’s blood still dried on them, I grabbed my pack from off the floor. I slid my handgun into my belt and stepped outside, leaving Sarah sleeping. I headed for the tree line.
My boots darkened, dampened by the heavy morning dew. My ears strained for any sounds that didn’t belong, searching for any warning hums of an ATV or the faint chop of a helicopter. The morning was quiet, but that did not mean I dropped my guard. With danger a constant, dropping your guard meant getting killed, or worse.
The trees dropped away in an abrupt line, giving way to the ten-foot tall wire fence. Five acres of garden lay before me. We were each required to work a minimum of two, five-hour shifts per week in the garden. We were all responsible for keeping Eden alive in one way or another.
I geared up with a pair of worn gloves and a religiously cared for hoe. I pushed back my dirtied sleeves and fastened my pack tighter to my back. It never left my back, other than when I slept. To be separated from it could mean the difference between life and death. It had everything I needed to survive in the wilderness for nearly a month.
As I worked my way to the southeast corner of the garden, I saw I wasn’t alone. A figure in dirty rags was kneeling on the ground, working steadily on a row of slowly growing potatoes. It was Terrif, the oldest member of Eden. He was mute and growing frail. He knew the most about gardening though. Without him, our harvest would be half of
what it was.
A person’s value shifts greatly when the world comes to an end.
Terrif looked up at me briefly as I went to work on a new area that would be planted later that afternoon. His eyes met mine for just a moment, oddly grey orbs that were starting to slowly lose their sight, and went back to his work.
The garden was in its fifth year and gaining maturity. The fruit trees had produced well the previous year and we were hoping the late start of spring was not going to hurt production this year. It was agonizing, having so little control over something so vital to our survival.
Within a year of the Evloution, people started realizing they weren’t the only ones on the run and began to band together. As this colony of thirty-four formed, they knew we were going to have to provide food for all these people or everyone was going to starve. And so the garden had been planted. Eden itself might be constantly moving for safety reasons, but the garden was the center, the anchor of which we revolved around.
Each of us had reached Eden in our own way. Those who had survived the Evolution had figured out that it wasn’t safe to be in the cities anymore. With so much electricity and other mechanical resources available, the Bane flocked to them like addicts. If you were smart you ran as fast as you could toward the mountains or to the open country.
I didn’t remember much of my arrival at Eden. Only that I arrived alone, a thirteen-year-old girl, mostly naked, covered in blood, but without a scratch on me. I had no memory prior to that time, no recollection of my parents or of where I had come from. I could only recall one word that might have something to do with my past: Eve. And so that was what I was called.
I insisted on training with all the older men, learning to handle a weapon and survive out in the wild. By fourteen I was going on raids and helping to protect those around me. Avian and Sarah had helped me when I needed, despite how determined I had been that I could take care of myself.
Avian had just escaped from the Army that was tearing itself apart, just as the world was falling to ruin. He’d rescued his sister Sarah, hiding in the garage after their parents had been infected. He’d had to shoot both of them to get her out. He next went after his cousin Tye, who’d locked his infected mother in their trailer home, and stood guard outside the door with a rifle. Together they fled into the mountains. They were some of the first to arrive in Eden, only twenty-one, twenty, and nineteen-years-old.
As the sun started graying the sky, others trickled in to the garden, those assigned to work the morning shift while the others guarded camp. Not many words were spoken, each person working in silent grief. I saw eyes flicker to my face, questions forming in their heads. They wanted to know how our elite team had finally failed to bring someone home. I may have only been seventeen but they didn’t expect any less from me than they did Bill or Graye. Or Tye.
I wanted to tell them it was Graye they should be questioning, but I would never betray him like that. If he wanted them to know what he had done to Tye, he could tell them himself. It wasn’t my place.
Just as the sun broke above the tree line, Sarah joined at my side. She carried a sack of seeds, dropping them in a shallow trench. I raked the damp dirt over them.
“How is Avian this morning?” I asked, keeping my voice down.
“He looked like he hadn’t slept all night,” she said as she dropped seeds. She gave a small cough, covering her mouth with a fist. “He wouldn’t eat this morning but said he was fine.”
“I’ll talk to him when I get back.” I sighed as I continued to rake.
Avian was the one person who never left Eden. He never went on raids, never even worked in the gardens. He couldn’t leave his supplies and the CDU, the one sure device that protected us from the Bane. All too often he was needed. Even though he had only two and a half years’ worth of medical training, he knew more than the rest of us.
“People are wondering what happened last night,” Sarah said, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “I heard them talking at breakfast this morning. They’re starting to lose trust in Graye.”
“Why?”
“They overheard someone talking to Avian about how Graye had something to do with Tye’s infection. We all know he can be selfish and sloppy.”
I straightened slightly and looked over my shoulder where Graye was working. He was alone, his head hanging low. I would never say it aloud, but Sarah was right. Graye always tried to grab just a few more things, one more treasure to take home for himself. He hadn’t noticed the Bane creeping up on him. Tye had gotten Graye out before it was too late but it had cost him his life.
“We can’t afford to turn against ourselves,” I said, getting back to work before anyone could notice my stiff behavior. “We all know better than that.”
“They’re upset,” Sarah said simply. She coughed again, just once.
“They’re going to have to move on,” I said, more bluntly than I had meant it. “We need him. We need everyone.”
Sarah didn’t say anything else as she continued her work. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that I realized she was vocalizing not only the thoughts of others in Eden, but her own.
I worked a longer shift than required, in a way anxious to prove my devotion to Eden. It was unnecessary, but I seemed to be feeling the guilt Graye wasn’t. The afternoon shift started trickling in, the post in the watchtower shifting. As I handed off my tools and gloves to someone else, I realized that Graye and I were the last of the morning crew to head back.
I hesitated, unnerved at having to walk back with him, but I wasn’t stupid. It was safer to travel with a companion, even if it was just between the gardens and home.
We walked in silence. We’d known each other for four years now and had been going on raids together for almost three. He was a good fighter and when push came to shove, I would want him on my side.
Graye had come to Eden when I was fourteen. He was twenty at the time. He had been recently married and had a baby girl, both lost to the infection. It was hard to condemn him for his selfish actions; he had lost everything that ever meant anything to him. He was just trying to take something back from the world that had stolen everything from him.
We were almost back to Eden, our journey nearly successfully silent, when he finally spoke.
“I didn’t mean it you know,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I never wanted Tye to get hurt.”
“I know,” I said as we stepped into the perimeter of camp. That was as close to an apology as anyone would ever get from Graye.
We went our separate ways.
THREE
I hadn’t expected anyone but Avian to be inside the medical tent but found him hunched over, working on a skin and bones foot. Wix lay on the table, propped up on his elbows, watching as Avian worked.
“Hey, Eve,” Wix said with a bright smile on his narrow face. “Look what I got on the way home!” He held up one of the fattest snakes I had ever seen.
“Looks like it got you too,” I said, raising my eyebrows.
“Eh, it’s nothing,” he said with a grin again, watching as Avian treated the bite.
I just shook my head as I sat on a stump that served as a seat. Despite being two years older than me, Wix was the skinniest person I had ever met but made up for his small size with personality. Even all the tough scouts like Bill couldn’t tease him about his build. It was impossible to dislike the green-eyed, red-haired kid.
“Well, that’s all I can do,” Avian said as he finished wrapping a bandage around Wix’s ankle and foot. “Let me know if it starts oozing or turns black. I want to check on it before you go to sleep tonight.”
“Well that doesn’t sound pleasant,” Wix said as he sat up, his twiggish legs hanging off the table. “Thanks for fixing me up, Doc.”
He limped out of the tent, his prize and dinner swinging at his side.
“Snake is actually pretty good,” I said as I watched Avian clean up.
“What are you doing here, Eve?” he asked.<
br />
“Making sure you’re okay,” I said, taking the quick and honest approach. I took a good look at him. His lean but toned frame was stiff, his brow pinched together, his intense blue eyes dark.
“I’m fine. Did Sarah say otherwise?” he said with a sigh, throwing a few used rags into a basket.
I shrugged, picking at a piece of bark that was peeling off the stump I sat on.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said, placing his hands on the table, staring at it. I had little doubt he was seeing the body of his cousin and hearing the volts course through it. It was the same thing I was seeing.
“I wanted to talk to you and Gabriel, together. I’m worried about people turning on Graye,” I said, ignoring Avian’s downfallen attitude.
He looked up at me, and after several long moments, still didn’t say anything. I was worried that I knew what he was thinking: that maybe they should.
“You know we can’t afford to lose him,” I said quietly, but keeping my voice firm.
His eyes hardened for a moment. “Gabriel is on scouting duty right now. He will be back this evening.”
“We need to talk about it,” I said as I stood. I hesitated at the opening to the tent, wanting to argue. But keeping my mouth closed, I walked out. I would make my argument later, when both Avian and Gabriel were there.
I missed the serving of lunch. I hadn’t bothered to eat breakfast that morning so I was suddenly starving. I walked to the far end of camp and yanked up the door to the cellar. The room that stored the majority of the food in Eden smelled like earth. It was a comforting place, it felt protected, like Mother Earth wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you there. I helped myself to a couple of carrots and a few hard rolls that were left over from that morning.
It spoke volumes about the character of the people in Eden that there was no need for a guard at the food stores. Most people who made their way here were starving, living only on what they could find in the wild. Here everyone could come and go as they pleased, take what they needed. We all lived by that rule: take what you need. We knew how to ration, no one would starve.