The QuaranTeens, #1

by Keith B Darrell

  Archer gasped. “You’re our mother’s brother?”

  “If you are who you say – and I’ve no reason to doubt your veracity, given your emotional response to my mother’s death – then you may call me Uncle Proctor.” He raised the revolver.

  Robin and Archer drew a bead on him. “You can’t shoot two targets,” Archer said. “The other one will get you.”

  “This needn’t be an awkward family reunion,” Proctor said. “It’s the rare individual who’s capable of killing their own flesh and blood. Put down your weapons and join me in Utopia. Our family blood runs through your veins, Archer. You could be my heir apparent.”

  Archer shook his head. “You killed Granny, didn’t you? You murdered your own mother!”

  Proctor slowly panned his arm, aiming his gun at Archer.

  Robin released her arrow a second before Archer shot his. Her arrow struck Proctor’s hand, causing him to drop the revolver; Archer’s arrow sliced into Proctor’s shoulder.

  “Ain’t so rare after all,” Robin said. “’Leastways, it must run in the family.” Both teens reached into their quivers with lightning-fast reflexes and notched a second arrow, which they fired instantaneously. They continued as human perpetual motion machines until Proctor resembled a cross between a pin cushion and a porcupine.

  Kai burst into the study. “I’ve been looking all over for you two.”

  “Told you this was something we had to do ourselves,” Archer said.

  “Yeah, I’m real bad at doing what people tell me.”

  Robin glanced at Proctor, as he tumbled from his chair and crawled toward them reaching out for help. “We done what we came fer. You want to ride back with us, Kai?”

  “What about Proctor?” Kai asked.

  “With that many holes in him, he’s gonna bleed to death, slow and painful,” Archer said. “We can stay and watch if’n you want.”

  “If you’re ready to leave, we need to get back to the bunker,” Kai said. “Proctor sent his men to attack it and they’re going to need all the help they can get defending it.”

  “Then, let’s go,” Archer said. “You can ride back with me on my horse.” They ran out the door past Donjay as he staggered into the study.

  Dax scrambled in front of one of the oncoming Humvees, avoiding shots fired by its gunner. She pulled the pin and tossed the grenade into the turret before leaping out of the way of the blast. She reached into her sack to discover she had used her last grenade.

  “It’s no good,” Corona said. “Dax blew up most of the vehicles but not before they discharged their passengers. They’re swarming all over and our rifles are running out of bullets.”

  “We have to stop as many of them as we can to give Destine and Keiana enough time to get the defense grid working,” Covid said. “Even if they get past us, there’s six inches of titanium between them and everyone in the bunker.”

  “I’ve got some bullets left,” Ian said. “I’ll stand at the door and shoot anyone who tries to get in.”

  Covid shook his head. “No good. Their rifles could strike you from hundreds of yards away.”

  Corona’s forlorn expression conveyed her despair. “Then… it’s over.”

  The Utopians realized that as well from the lull in the gunfire and rose from their sheltered positions to advance on the unarmed teens.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Utopians charging forward didn’t notice it at first. Their eyes were on the prize: the bunker and the four helpless teenagers outside no longer able to defend it. The land surrounding the besieged bunker that they had turned into a battlefield was imperceptibly morphing into a garden, but not merely any run-of-the-mill garden: a warrior’s garden. Metal sprouts burst through the soil, rising a foot before bending at a 20° angle and then shooting up several more feet. The scattered black pipes began firing a steady stream of bullets in a crossfire that cut down at least half the men in seconds. The Utopians retreated, but as they did, landmines laying inert since they were planted long ago suddenly sprang to life, exploding whenever they could inflict the most casualties, as if they had a mind of their own.

  Inside the bunker, in the computer terminal room, Destine and Keiana high-fived each other. “Defense grid activated and automatic lockdown engaged,” Destine said. “No one’s getting inside the bunker.”

  “Unfortunately, that includes our friends but hopefully they have the sense to keep their heads down,” Keiana said. “We’ll prevail today but there’s nothing to prevent the Utopians from coming back.”

  “Or is there? What if we bring the fight to them?”

  “How do you suggest we do that? This is a defensive grid.”

  “With limited offensive capabilities, according to the diary.” Destine pointed to Utopia on the map on one of the computer screens. “We could use the pop-up missile launchers to fire on Utopia.”

  Keiana shook her head. “I thought of that. I’ve already done the calculations. Our missile range is limited: We could only reach the edge of the dome. We wouldn’t be able to inflict citywide damage.”

  A sly smile crept across Destine’s face. “What if we simply bombarded the edge of the dome with missile after missile?”

  “It would cause significant damage in that one area but the shells wouldn’t land any farther. They’d keep hitting the dome until it cracked and pieces fell over that area…”

  “Have you ever seen anything with a crack where the crack didn’t spread? Especially if it’s constantly being pounded?”

  Keiana’s eyes widened. “Once the dome starts to crack, if we keep hitting it with missiles, then the cracks will run through the entire dome.”

  “Pieces of the dome will break off and plunge down all over the city. It’ll look as if the sky is falling.”

  “Like the bombing of Dresden in World War II we read about in History class. The Utopians will never want to mess with us again!” Keiana’s finger hovered over the missile launch button. “Is now the time for trial and error?”

  Proctor reached out to Donjay as the young man entered the study. “Help me. Get Dr. Carstairs.”

  Donjay staggered forward, still groggy from the sedative Dr. Carstairs had given him. He stumbled several times, as the room itself was shaking from pieces of the dome – shattered by the missile barrage – repeatedly struck the building. “I was outside in the hall. I overheard you.”

  “Donjay, get the doctor. Please, son.”

  “Son? Am I your son once again? Your heir apparent? Or have you been lying to me all these years, as you lied about Maga?”

  “Doctor. I need the doctor or I’ll die.” Different-sized chunks of the dome bounced off the roof above them, like oversized raindrops on a tin roof.

  “I heard you offer to make that boy your heir— a Raider, no less! Maga was right: you’re a liar and I can’t wait for you to die of old age for my turn to replace you.” His eyes darted about the study and fell on the poker leaning against the fireplace. Donjay reached for it and struck Proctor again and again, beating him to death. He tossed the poker aside. “The waiting’s over. Utopia is mine!”

  Donjay looked up at the pitter-patter of pebbles and debris striking the roof and saw Maga entering the study. “I told you to wait for me in my room. No matter. I’m glad you’re here. You can help me celebrate what’s destined to be the happiest day of my life.”

  “What are you talking about? Where’s Proctor?”

  Donjay glanced up at a rumbling coming from the ceiling. He saw a large crack running across it. “Maga, get out!” he shouted. Donjay staggered toward her to push Maga from the room but was too groggy to run. A loud thud reverberated through the room as a large chunk of the dome smashed through the ceiling like a meteorite. Donjay watched helplessly, horrified as the roof caved in on his sister. He stumbled toward the rubble, tossing each piece of debris aside until he saw the crushed and bloody remains lying beneath it.

  “No!” he screamed. “Maga. Why, why?” He gritted his teeth an
d inhaled deeply and defiantly.

  Dr. Carstairs burst in. “Proctor, are you all right?”

  Donjay pointed to the arrow-filled corpse. “Proctor’s dead. I’m in charge of Utopia now.”

  Dr. Carstairs gulped, absorbing the news of Proctor’s demise. “We’re under attack! The dome has collapsed. The sky is literally falling throughout the city.”

  “Attacked by whom?”

  “The bunker children. Only a handful of our patrols have returned and they bring stories of carnage. Half our fleet of Humvees had to be abandoned or were destroyed; the other half sits here with no batteries to run them. And now, when we need him most, Proctor is dead.”

  Donjay gazed down at Maga’s remains. “Not just Proctor.” He looked up at Dr. Carstairs, steely-eyed. “We don’t need Proctor. I shall rebuild the dome and the city. Utopia will rise again… and when it does, those responsible for this will pay with their lives.”

  The stars seemed particularly bright on this night. What had been a battlefield that afternoon had become a campground after dusk. A half-dozen campfires illuminated the young faces surrounding them. Archer opened a bag of marshmallows Kai had brought back from their store. They were a bit stale but he didn’t mind. He stuck three on an arrow and held them over the fire. The flame would soften them. And they’d be safe to eat – as Kai had taught him, fire was the great cleanser. So their code said.

  Archer offered one to his sister. Robin declined, instead snuggling up to Covid. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you that first day at the store.”

  Covid grinned. “Me too.”

  “I was right then, too – you ain’t too hard on the eyes.”

  “And you’ve learned how to spell my name.”

  Corona saw the distant look in her brother’s eyes that belied his banter. “What’s troubling you, Covid?”

  “Maga never came back from Utopia. I knew she’d be risking her life returning to save her brother, yet somehow I thought she’d survive. Proctor must have killed her, too.”

  “Proctor ain’t killing no one else,” Robin said. “He’s worm food now… with the holes already made for the worms to burrow through.”

  Corbin gestured for Archer to join him. “Be right back, folks.” He approached Corbin.

  “Archer, I think it’s time we got to know each other better,” Corbin said. “I thought we might chat about your store and its merchandise. I have an exciting business proposition for you…”

  A few yards away, at another campfire, Blaine and Esme were necking. Destine frowned disapprovingly. “There must be something in the air. It seems everyone is pairing off.”

  “Not everyone,” Keiana said. “We’re still single. I read in a book once that boys don’t like smart girls.” She tilted her head toward Dax and Coralie, who were embracing at another campfire. “Of course, not everyone needs boys.”

  “There’s lots of options beyond the bunker,” Destine said. “Robin said I could come with her and Archer the next time they visit a Raider outpost. She said some of them have a few boys our age.”

  Several yards away, Coralie looked up into Dax’s eyes. “We’re going to be safe now, right?”

  Dax cradled her head. “It’s an awful big world outside the bunker, and I’ve a hunch it’s a dangerous one, too. But I’ll keep you safe.”

  Coralie smiled. “Just like you did that day with Arlo and Nico in the classroom.” She frowned and her eyes darted about the horizon. “You don’t think they’re out there watching us now, do you?”

  Dax shook her head gently. “No, they’re gone and they won’t be back. Like I said, I’ll keep you safe.” She kissed Coralie’s forehead and drew her into her bosom. Ian approached Destine and Keiana holding a half-empty bag of marshmallows. “I saw you two sitting alone by your fire and thought you might like some of Archer’s fluffy stuff.”

  “Marshmallows,” Destine said.

  “Um, yeah, that’s what he called them.”

  “Thanks,” Keiana said. “Why don’t you sit down and join us?”

  Ian hesitated. “Well, I’m not really a good talker. I don’t read a lot of books like you two do. I spend most of my time working out.”

  Keiana reached out and felt his muscular arm. “I can tell.” She placed a marshmallow on a stick, then paused before adding a second one. “I wonder which end goes on first?”

  Ian frowned. “They look the same to me.”

  “So do magnets,” Keiana said. “But each has a north end and a south end. If these two marshmallows were magnets and I put both same ends together, they’d repel each other.” She turned the marshmallow around. “But if I put the south end up against the north end, they’d stick together like two melted marshmallows.” She toasted the stick before handing it to Destine. “It’s a scientific principle: opposites attract. Excuse me, I see someone I need to speak to.” She left the two of them by the campfire.

  She is one manipulative bitch, Destine thought. Still… “May I feel your muscle?” Destine asked.

  “Sure,” Ian said, eagerly rolling up his sleeve.

  At another campfire, Tristan had his arm around Nessa as they roasted marshmallows. “I was really scared when they told me the Utopians had kidnapped you.”

  “I was scared, too.” Tristan laughed and she found his laughter infectious. “Things could have turned really bad if Varian hadn’t rescued me when he did.”

  “Fiona’s always saying nice things about Varian. I know you don’t like him but—”

  Tristan shook his head. “Varian’s a good guy. I shouldn’t have blamed him for Lucian’s death. He’s just like us: a kid who makes mistakes. I guess I thought because he was older, he wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. But he walked into Utopia, faced down my guard, freed me, and got me home in one piece. I don’t know if I could be that brave. I saw a side of him I’d never seen before. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to see it, or maybe I hadn’t been looking for it. But I think it’s the side Fiona sees too.”

  “She really likes him. He’s been spending a lot of time with her lately. I may have to find a new best friend.”

  “Hey, I thought we were best friends?”

  Nessa shook her head. “Nah. If Fiona has a boyfriend now, I think I should have one too. I mean, I’m thirteen and I’ve never been kissed.”

  Tristan bit his lip. “Well, I’m fourteen and I’ve never… I mean, not exactly…” He looked around to see if anyone was watching. “You want to try it?”

  “Now?”

  “Keep your voice down. If I’m going to be your boyfriend, we’ll have to do it sometime. Now’s as good a time as any.”

  “All right.” Nessa puckered her lips.

  Tristan leaned in and kissed her quickly on the lips. “How was that?”

  She moved her lips back and forth. “Try it again.”

  Tristan leaned in and gave her a slightly longer kiss.

  Nessa smirked. “Keep trying.”

  Fiona and Varian stepped through the bunker’s hatch. “I still think this is a bad idea,” Varian said.

  “Everyone’s outside celebrating our victory,” Fiona said. “You deserve this celebration as much as anyone.”

  “My presence will just make everyone feel uncomfortable. You don’t have to pretend, Fiona. I know what they will think of me.”

  Keiana approached them. “Have you told him?”

  “Not yet,” Fiona said.

  “Told him what?” Varian asked.

  “A group of us met earlier today. We decided to form a governing council instead of having any single individual lead us.”

  Varian looked down at the ground. “I suppose my disastrous term as leader is responsible for that. For what it’s worth, it sounds like a good idea.”

  “The council’s membership will likely change over time but the initial five members were agreed on.”

  “If you’re this happy, you must have been selected.”

  Keiana grinned. “They wanted someone with brains but it was close unt
il Destine took herself out of the running. She probably figures she’ll get her say so long as Covid’s on the council. We also picked Dax. She has incredible inner strength and you should have seen her fighting the Utopians today.”

  Varian nodded. “So, the brain, the hero, the tough girl… who else to round out your council?”

  Keiana pointed to Fiona. Varian smiled. “Ah, the voice of compassion to temper all the other voices. I approve.” He kissed Fiona. “A wise choice, Keiana. I’m sure your little group will steer us through the tough times ahead.” Varian turned to Fiona. “I suppose we should celebrate your new position. Which campfire would you like to sit at?”

  “Wait,” Keiana said. “You’re forgetting the fifth member.”

  “Who else? Kai?”

  Keiana shook her head, laughing. “You don’t choose a rule-breaker to be a rule-maker. We chose you, Varian.”

  Varian shook his head in disbelief. “No, the other’s won’t—”

  “It was unanimous,” Fiona said.

  Varian shook his head. “What do I bring to the council? Failure? Poor judgment?”

  “Leadership,” Keiana said. “Oh, not by yourself. But Corbin told us what you said when you went off to rescue Tristan: ‘I’m not the leader but I am a leader.’ You can be one of our leaders, Varian.”

  “Tristan.” He shook his head, remembering how he’d told Fiona he couldn’t bear to see the look in Tristan’s eyes whenever they passed in the halls. “No, I don’t think…”

  “It was Tristan’s idea,” Fiona said. “He nominated you for the council.”

  “Tristan did?” Varian looked up in surprise. “It wasn’t one of his jokes, was it?”

  “We’re meeting in the morning after breakfast,” Keiana said. “Don’t be late.”

  Several yards away, the campfire embers were fading. Kai wrapped his arms around Corona as they gazed at the stars. “Space is really big,” Kai said.

  “So is the Earth,” Corona said.