The End of Eden (Water Worlds 1)

Chapter 1

1 

The sun was up and tickling my nose. I woke with a sneeze.

Everyone in the little van erupted with laughter. I felt embarrassed and small, and tried to disappear into my seat.

"Shh!" Mother urged in a low voice. "We're nearing the border, little one. Quiet, now."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. There were nine of us cramped together in a vehicle meant for six, and everyone was starting to become quite—how would Mother put it?—fragrant.

One couple I recognized from our building, but the others were strangers to me. Father obviously knew them all, chatting very informally the whole way about nothing in particular. The air was thick with the smell of stale tobacco smoke and something else. Pee?I began to feel ill.

Our little Russian Lectrikvan was slowing down, losing its battle against gravity as it struggled up a steep hill. Luckily no one was behind us. I hated it when drivers beeped their horns if you went too slowly. As if we wantedto crawl like a turtle!

But there was no one behind or ahead of us, as far as I could tell. Out on the frontier, you could go forever without seeing anyone or anything.

Soon, the dusty road ahead flattened, and our way was blocked by the gate of a small guardhouse. Painted electric green, like a highway glo-sign, the little building seemed very out of place in all this rocky emptiness. You could walk around the entire thing in ten steps, it was so small, but the two guards inside probably wouldn't have liked that.

We glided to a halt in front of the gate, next to the open door.

The rising sun angled off the blue-black solar panels mounted on the little pitched roof, and a sharp glare reflected right into the van, nearly blinding me. I wanted the driver to pull up a bit, but I didn't want to be shushed again, so I held my tongue and put my hand up to shield my eyes.

I hadn't eaten in almost two days, and my stomach was turning from the smell. The sun and the cigarette smoke were giving me a headache, too, but I knew no amount of complaining would get me any attention from Mother just then, so I kept quiet.

From my angle in the back seat, the yellow-and-black striped gate extending before us looked like a monstrous tongue sticking out. The gatehouse door was the mouth; the little windows, the eyes; the solar panels, the ears.

It was animecoming to life. The whole sight was strange and menacing against the peaceful background of velvety red-brown hills and the brightening blue morning sky.

I don't know why we had to leave home so suddenly,I thought, sulking and feeling a little sorry for myself.

No one would tell me anything and Father and Mother spoke so harshly to each other, I was getting scared now, too.

We had left Wonsan in the middle of the night. We packed quickly and left many of our nicest things behind. Not that we had all that much to begin with. Mother packed my clothes while I gathered my favorite pencils, a small stack of paper, and my two home-made ink pens.

I tucked them into my red school bag, which was now wedged by my feet. I looked down at it just to make sure it was still there, and worried about wrinkling the paper.

Without a word, Father got out of the van. The door clicked closed behind him. There was something so final about that sound. My fear deepened and I sunk even deeper into my seat.

Mother had Joo Chen on her lap, but reached her arm around me and pulled me in tight. She neverdid that. Joo Chen put his arms around my neck, kissed my cheek and whispered.

"Noo-na," he said. Older sister.

I heard a faint buzz and strained to look out the windshield. The sun was blinding, but I was sure I saw a camera-drone flitting just overhead. Or maybe it was just flies. With that thought, suddenly, flies were everywhere, coming in the open windows. The driver took a girlie magazine he had tucked behind his sun visor, rolled it up and swatted at one. He missed and swatted again, this time squashing it against the windshield. He peeled it off with his fingers and flicked it out the window like a cigarette butt.

It took only a minute. A young guard, holding an automatic weapon, stepped out of the little guardhouse as Father approached. Father bowed politely and said a few words I couldn't hear through the open door to the older guard. Then they shook hands and Father stepped inside.

I could see him a little, in the shadows, just inside the open door. Talking. Father reached into his leather shoulder bag and that made the younger guard with the weapon stiffen, but Father removed a thick, flat package and passed it to the older guard who made it vanish.

The striped gate-tongue slowly lifted as Father returned. He got in the passenger seat and turned with a sad smile towards Mother.

The driver, by now done with swatting flies, flared a match, lit another cigarette (blech!) and lurched the little van forward.

We moved on, silent but for the crunch of our tires on the loose stones, leaving behind all I had ever known.

As we crested the hill and began our descent, the sun vanished behind an outcropping, and I was suddenly chilled by the shade. I began to shiver, more from hunger and exhaustion than from the cold, but Mother wrapped her coat around me and enveloped me in her warmth. She sang softly to me and Joo Chen, still on her lap. She hadn't sung to me since I was a baby. It was a sad, traditional song, of sorrow and loss.

I curled up into a ball and began to relax. Soon, the rocking motion of the rolling van lulled me back to sleep.