Free Dark Eden by Patrick Carman

Avery,” Marisa said. I couldn’t see her, either, until she reached the door to the girls’ quarters and I caught a glimpse of her through the six-inch opening in the door.
    After that it was all banter at the breakfast table and Mrs. Goring telling them to make their beds and flush the toilets. Marisa returned with Avery in tow and joined the group, all of them sitting around the table.
    “How’d it go with the doc?” Kate asked. It was mildly insensitive, but coming from Kate, par for the course.
    “Fine.”
    “I feel sorry for her,” Ben said. “Up all hours talking to us. It’s kind of amazing what she’s doing. It’s like twenty-four hours on call.”
    I had to agree. However Dr. Stevens was being piped into Fort Eden, she probably wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. I could imagine her in her office back home, webcam at the ready. They must have the place hardwired to an underground connection somewhere, because there sure wasn’t a signal hanging around in the air.
    “Where’s Rainsford? When will we see him again?” asked Ben. “I’d like to thank him.”
    “I bet you would,” said Mrs. Goring. She was somewhere across the room, pulling open curtains. “He’s got a lot of work to do, so don’t bother him.”
    “What kind of work?” asked Ben.
    “The kind that fixes messed-up kids like you; what other kind is there?”
    Wow, Mrs. Goring was in a real mood this morning. I was halfway glad I didn’t have to deal with her, although the pancakes smelled amazing and I wished for a tall stack, covered in peanut butter and syrup.
    There was a loud clang and I jumped back, thinking for a brief second that someone was hitting the door I stood next to. But it was someone outside trying to get in.
    “Who in blazes is that?” said Mrs. Goring. I heard her stomping across the room in her boots while everyone else went silent. The door clanged again, as if it was being hit with a hammer.
    “Whoever you are, if you’re kicking that door with the toe of your boot, I’ll have your hide!” she yelled.
    A few people laughed softly, but a silent curiosity had overtaken the group inside the fort. When the door flew open, the quiet was broken by the sound of a voice I hadn’t heard before.
    “Hello, Mrs. Goring. I smelled the pancakes.”
    “Like hell you did.”
    Whoever it was laughed—a nice laugh, come to think of it—and entered the fort.
    “It’s been a long time, Davis. I trust you’re feeling well.”
    “Oh yes, very well.”
    Who the heck was Davis?
    “It won’t last if I have anything to say about it.” Mrs. Goring was being incredibly rude, but that was her way; and whoever this Davis character was, he didn’t seem to mind.
    “This must be them,” he said, entering the room as the door was closed.
    “Well of course it’s them. Didn’t you learn anything when you were here?”
    “Oh, I learned plenty, Mrs. Goring.”
    A stillness, then he spoke again.
    “If it’s okay, I’ll join you. I’m Davis.”
    He sat, or so it seemed, and greetings were exchanged as they ate. Whoever he was, the girls seemed particularly nervous about his arrival.
    “Rainsford called me, asked if I’d stay on for a few days and help Mrs. Goring fix the pump down at the pond. That old thing is always going out.”
    I knew about the pond but hadn’t thought much of it until then.
    “How do you know him?” asked Kate, an air of flirtation in her voice that I hadn’t even heard with Connor. This Davis guy, I thought, must be a real stud.
    “Well, that’s the other reason I’m here. To encourage you.”
    “How so?” Avery, the quiet one, had spoken to a total stranger.
    “I’m a graduate of the program,” Davis said, then it sounded as if he’d stuffed a wad of pancakes in his mouth.
    “No way,” Connor said, slapping his own knee or Davis’s back, I couldn’t tell which. “What were you afraid of?”
    “Mrs. Goring.”
    Everyone laughed, and this time I was pretty sure of what I heard: