“It doesn’t take a genius to work that out. They wouldn’t wear them in the first place if they didn’t need them,” Marek said.
“You’re missing the point,” Layla said. “Look around you. The sky during dusk and dawn. Go out and look at the moon. The increase in land conversion. It’s all building.”
“They want more root. So what?” Gregor said.
“They’re terraforming the planet. The root is how they’re doing it.”
“Even a fool can see they’re changing the place. What are we supposed to do about it?” Gregor said.
“Why would we run away to live in a ruined city?” Marek said. “Somebody else would just step in. The croatoans needs us. We’ve proven that.”
“I’ve just come back from the chocolate factory. There was information on the computers that collectively pointed to something happening very soon.”
“Very soon? Collectively?” Gregor said.
“Graphics and a timeline,” Layla said. “They looked close to concluding whatever they are trying to achieve. I think the experiment backs it up.”
“I think you’re being a little dramatic,” Gregor said. “We provide them with food. Manage the farms around the world. Why would they choke us to death?”
Layla rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. To live on our planet in conducive conditions?”
“No need to get sarcastic. I can’t risk everyone’s lives based on your theory. You might be completely wrong.”
“And if I’m not?”
Ben cleared his throat.
“Do you have something to say?” Marek said.
“Charlie thinks the same,” Ben said. “That’s why he’s been trying to stop it.”
“Who gives a fuck what he thinks?” Gregor said. Ben looked back at his boots. “I can see things changing. We can all see things are changing. It’s a question of to what level, the timing, and our personal survival. Layla, I’m not going through this in the middle of the night.”
“We might not have time to wait,” Layla said. “I told you the other day they’re acting differently. It’s happening soon. I know it.”
Gregor twirled the necklace around on his finger. He sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “First I deal with the hideout. Layla, try to find out more. We’ll get together this evening and decide our next steps. If we act, we have to be one hundred percent sure. I’m not risking everything on a hunch.”
She nodded.
“It’s crazy,” Marek said. “We’ve been doing this for ten years. Why now?”
“We’ll discuss it tonight. I need a couple of hours sleep before heading out,” Gregor said.
“There’s something else,” Layla said. “Igor came into the chocolate factory. I think he knows what’s going on. He threatened me and said things were changing.”
“Don’t worry about that Russian scumbag. I’ve got him just where I want him,” Gregor said.
“Have you?” Layla said. “Or does Augustus?”
“Screw that freak,” Gregor said, resisting the urge to insult Layla. He jumped from his chair and grabbed the back of Ben’s neck. “I’ve got my eye on a different prize at the moment.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Morning broke with a rich purple stain across the sky. An hour later, the color burned away to be replaced by a thick tobacco-orange.
Denver parked the truck at the edge of the broken road, what used to be the New Jersey Turnpike, where it met the Newark Bay Bridge. The structure lay half in the bay. The thick, sludge-like water rolled slowly back and forth across the debris.
From their position, they could see across to Manhattan. The broken shards of hundreds of towers pierced the orange sky like shattered, grey teeth. They spoke of the initial devastation during the first invasion.
Charlie got out of the truck and helped the others. Ethan and Maria had slept for the entire overnight journey. Charlie got a couple of hours when Denver took over driving, but his body could have done with a few more. He needed another intake of root to really feel awake again, but now they were in the city. Root wasn’t so easy to come by.
His current supply would have to last. If things went well, they’d be heading back out by noon anyway. Just a few hours here to get the device and they’d be done.
“Wow,” Maria said, stretching her arms above her head as she stared out toward the city. “That’s incredible. This is the old world?”
“Yeah. Used to be one of the greatest cities on Earth,” Charlie replied.
“This is the place where you worked?” Ethan asked, impressing Charlie that he remembered. “Must be hard to deal with the memories of your colleagues when you come back.”
Charlie shrugged. He’d lost so many over the years it was difficult to still grieve for individuals. Occasionally, he would think back to the young lad he’d tried to save in the sinkhole, Luke, and his supervisor, Steph. That fateful day would always remain with him. How he and Pippa and a single fireman were the only survivors from that day.
“Right. It’s where we’re headed,” Charlie said to break himself from his memories and cut any more inquiry into his grief.
“How are we going to get across?” Maria asked. “It’s not like we were taught to swim.”
“Follow me,” Charlie said.
Leading them across the deserted bridge until they came to the point in the middle of the bay where the concrete road split apart, Charlie leaned over the side and ran his hand along it until his arm was submerged up to his elbow.
It took a moment, but he found it. A rope. He pulled on it, and from within the murk of the water, he pulled up a plastic container with weights on the side. “I need some help over here,” Charlie said.
Ethan and Denver grabbed the rope, and the three of them hauled up the eight-foot by four-foot plastic container and dumped it onto the concrete road.
“What is it?” Maria said.
“Transport,” Charlie said. They unclipped the plastic ties of the container, leaving the lid on the broken road. Inside was a rubber dinghy with a small outboard motor. A compressed-air tank would self-inflate it. They lifted it out and depressed a button on the canister and watched as it took form over the course of a few short minutes.
“Come on,” Charlie said, “Let’s get this in the water.”
The dinghy hit the surface with a wet slap. Charlie sat in the back, manning the outboard. The others sat on the hull with Denver at the front, facing the mainland, his sniper rifle shouldered, scope to his eye. He scanned in slow, sweeping arcs, keeping them protected.
Progress was slow across the bay as the prop struggled to propel the boat through the thick water. They had to stop a number of times to get around dense weeds that had grown up from the bay’s bed. They looked like vines, alien and entirely out of place for the water. But then that’s what those bastards wanted: to turn Earth into their world.
They eventually reached the mainland and pulled the boat up into a wooded area. The weather was getting cooler. Charlie zipped his camouflaged combat jacket. He’d have to get Ethan and Maria some better clothes; their uniforms from the harvester were getting badly torn and damaged, and being blue and orange were standing out too easily for his liking.
“Where now?” Maria said as Pip pointed her nose toward the foliage-strangled city. Her head tipped up as she picked up a scent. Charlie could smell it too. Roasting meat.
Charlie held up his hand. “Okay, listen to me. The city will have pockets of survivors. Some will be friendly, others won’t; don’t do anything stupid. Just follow Denver’s lead and mine. By the smell of it, there’s a group not far from here, and the wind direction is telling me they’re just beyond this copse of trees.”