The Keep (A Renegades story Book 1)

by Marilize Loxton

  Sam’s mouth widened, swelling in mirth. There they were: Nine prisoners all reaching for the roof, as if about to be crushed under its excruciating tons of dead lifting weight. It was a sorrowed sight, stabbing at her heart with a sharpened blade of guilt. Had they all finally gone crazy? Was this what it had finally to come to?

  Sam swung around, staring deep into the dark tunnel ahead. She’d seen a shimmering ray of bright light sparking her interest, and couldn’t help but to be drawn towards it. She carefully trotted closer, and reached out. Her icy skin was prickled with warmth.

  Sam’s eyes had curiously followed the ray up the tunnel’s ceiling, and saw that it sprightly escaped into the free desert air above. Although it was dark, she’d have had no trouble in telling the difference between crumbling stone, and cold hard metal.

  It must be a man-hole, she thought.

  ‘Guys, I think I’ve found a way out!’ She cried.

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Maybe–I just–’ Sam had lengthened in her body, balancing on nothing other than the levelled tips of her toes. She groaned, and reached out towards the thick plate of burning metal. Already, she’d seen the vague statures of what looked like buildings, and a deserted avenue tended by nothing other than the howling winds of the wastelands.

  If she had to guess, she’d say they travelled directly under the ghost town.

  Sam was stretched out as far as she could, and her toes and legs were cramping, but under no circumstances had the metal wanted to budge.

  ‘Why won’t this thing open?’ She heaved. Was all of this a just figment of her exhausted imagination?

  For all Sam knew, she’d have been tugging at nothing other than a crumbling piece of stone in the upper corner of the tunnel. Her grip loosened, and she repositioned her feet. She felt the leathery tips of her boots murdering that of her toes, but fought it.

  This was their only way out, and she wasn’t about to give up now.

  Chapter 22

  Sam’s arms had felt like descending from their pockets. Her mind was drawn to the pure thought of freedom, and her eyes to the sight of the waxy red sky. She’d thought of all those waiting behind her, clasping at the ceiling of the tunnel, and how it had broken her heart to see them grasping at straws for freedom.

  There was no going back, and there was no change of plan. Sam’s only hope was to keep moving forward, and that at least someone in the ghost town would be able lead her to the rebellion.

  How come she hadn’t told the others of the rebellion? Because then she’d have to tell them she’d gotten herself caught on purpose, and none of them would possibly understand that. They would all realize that Sam had put their lives in danger because of some mythical cause, and a suicidal mission for justice. A war was coming, and none of them were fighters.There was no apprehending the system.

  They’ve already lost one of their friends (Jamie) and although no one seemed to have taken it worse than Luna, Sam had the awful feeling of guilt boiling away in her gut.

  She was at fault for Jamie’s death, no matter what anyone said.

  Sam felt the welcoming presence of a tall stacked body coming up from behind her. Her senses were relieved by a woody, musky scent. It was almost enough to sedate her. Not of disgust, but of sheer delight.

  Aaron towered over Sam, lightening the weight of the thick, sizzling, metal plate resting on her blistering palms.

  ‘We need some help over here!’ Aaron cried, clenching his teeth, and summoning Shawn.

  Shawn was fuming up a storm. He charged in closer, and gave Aaron a hand. It seemed his covetous rage had given him an unknown strength he’d never possessed before. Together with Sam, they slowly lifted the metal, and shoved it aside; freeing a blinding fire of sunlight to scorch their sleeping eyes.

  Sam had felt relieved as she instantly recognized the familiar wastelands sky. There were no clouds, as usual, and the red tinge in the ailing atmosphere had looked the exact same as when she’d been staring up at the Keep. Although they had been more than a pipeline’s travel away, the fact that they’d still been close enough to be covered by the very same sky, had made Sam cringe in terror.

  ‘I’ll go first.’ She offered.

  Aaron lifted her waist, while Shawn boosted her feet. Their combined strength had made her soar from the tunnel, and she stridently plummeted onto a cracked, tar road. Sam scattered to gather blinding waves of golden hair behind her ears. She gasped. Her eyes caught the strange sight of a worn down town: A true ghost town.

  She’d never seen anything like it.

  The smaller buildings were mostly covered in flustered sand dunes. Only here and there she’d seen a clean scraped lobby, and muffled voices softly cooking from within.

  Sam stood aside, and bent down to grip Luna’s hand. She grasped tight at the lower part of her arm, and pulled her upwards; just as easily to find her flying onto the tar.

  ‘Wow, look at this place!’ Luna gasped, gathering herself.

  ‘I know, right?’

  The road from which they emerged had been well tended, with the small exception of a few deepened potholes in the middle. No lines were drawn on the tar, and even the red, ruby stop signs were broken. They seemed old, and tattered; nothing but naked poles driven into the ground. It was clear to Sam that there were no cars driving about, nor any person to care for the safety of others.

  Her eyes drifted aback, to where the tunnel was freezing earlier, and she saw a well tended building of a butchery right beside the road. Even though its doors were shut, the soft murmuring of freezers gave away its liveliness.

  Sam’s eyes caught the piercing sight of a vague yellow pamphlet stuck to the door, and without even realizing, she’d strolled towards it. With each step up the short flight of stairs, a dreadful screech emerged from the wood. It was as if they’d felt the feet of an unknown visitor, yelping to alarm the owner. Sam ran her hands along the splintery wood of the butchery’s front door, and over the yellow pamphlet.

  The corners of the page were crumbling in drought. It was as if the dryness of the wastelands refused to oversee even a single object. In parched black ink there was writing on the sheet, which read: The cool Room: 5 Credits for five minutes of sunless fun.

  ‘What’s that?’ Luke asked, stiffening Sam with fright. Even though the creaky steps should’ve warned her of his presence, the rambling thoughts in her mind had momentarily deafened her.

  ‘It looks like we’ve found the mysterious source of iciness.’ Sam said, cupping her hands to stare through the window.

  ‘Man that sounds great!’ Luke admitted. ‘I wouldn’t mind paying a few Emitton Units to sit in a freezer for a few minutes!’ He closed his eyes in bliss. Just the pure thought of an ice cold freezer instantly turned his focus to the actual abundance of the heat. He felt an uncomfortable clamminess of sweat that had glued his overalls to his flesh. It was exhausting, and unbearable.

  ‘Luke, they’re not asking us for Emitton Units, but Credits.’ Sam said, her tone riddled with worry. ‘They pay with Credits here.’ She licked her lips, and felt the dry lack of fluids scratching her tongue. But it wouldn’t matter anyway, for they hadn’t any Credits, or a plan for that matter, which instantly qualified them as the poorest inhabitants of the ghost town. Honestly, they weren’t really even inhabitants, but mere intruders to a well structured society of released prisoners.

  ‘Sam!’ Aaron cried. He’d closed the hatch of the man-hole, and focussed his attention to the stunned pair emerging from the butchery. ‘What happened? What did you see?’

  ‘Judged by their expressions, we’re doomed, that’s what they saw!’ Eric said.

  Sam didn’t answer. She studied the sky, and saw that the sun was about to set. It had only been their second day of freedom, and already she’d longed for the moon mud severed in the Keep’s cafeteria.

  Eric was right, when you’re really hungry, you’ll see it as a cheeseburger.

  ‘Anyone got some Credits on hand?’ Sam joked
, sarcastically. Her shoulders shrugged in despair. ‘Cause without it, we’re not getting anywhere.’

  ‘What are Credits?’ Melanie asked.

  ‘They use it as money here.’ Luke said. ‘Not only do we have none, but we have no idea where to get it from.’

  Shawn dug in his pockets.

  ‘I’ve got a few Emitton Units,’ He said. ‘Maybe they’ll take it?’

  ‘Don’t waste your time with that!’ Viper scowled. Her hand flew towards Shawn’s, and viciously smacked the coins from his grip. Its rounded edges fell to the tar, and just as heavy as their spirits, it hit the floor with a knock and a jingle.

  ‘They don’t have any use for that! Why would they want it?’

  Sam bent down and gathered the coins. ‘No, we have to save it. We can still use this! Maybe not here, and maybe not now, but that’s because we don’t know anything about this place yet.’

  She found Shawn’s hand, and gently returned his money. ‘Here.’ Sam said. Her eyes drifted to Viper, whose cheeks were flushed bright red, and boiling away in fury. Clearly, Sam had already managed to enrage her without even trying to.

  At least right now, Viper was amongst the least of Sam’s problems: Number one, being their unavoidable doom; Number two, not finding Mike; and Number three, their immense lack of food and water.

  ‘What are we going to do now?’ Luna asked.

  Sam quivered.

  * * *

  To Sam, the quiet streets of the ghost town were quite unusual, for all around them were the clear signs of living inhabitants. There was flimsy laundry lines spun from windowsill to windowsill, carrying blanched pieces of clothing, and soaking up the sun’s searing rays (or what was left of it).

  In the far off distance, past the tops of buildings, Sam had seen small puffs of smoke emerging from a quaint, brick building. The smell of roasted food snuck past her nose, and triggered its automatic communication system with her stomach.

  Sam’s arms clasped at her waist.

  ‘Mike!’ Melanie said, suddenly, struck by sheer inspiration. ‘He’s here, in town, right Sam? Of course he’s bound to have Credits! And maybe some food too, won’t he help us?’

  Sam felt to have swallowed her tongue.

  ‘Honestly Mel, do you really think Sam knows where he lives?’ Viper asked. Her stone cold stare was intimidating. ‘Or if he’s actually here?’

  Melanie frowned. ‘Of course she doesn’t know where he lives! I’m not stupid, Viper!’

  ‘So?’ Viper asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Is Mike actually in town?’ Viper turned to Sam, and so did Melanie and the others. Their questioning glares had drilled into Sam’s mind, pleading for answers while striking her stiff. Sam had nothing to say, or rather, nothing to say that they’d like. Mike was never in town. How could he be, when he too, was an escapee?

  ‘He has to be.’ Sam lied. She tried her best to look hopeful, frowning.

  ‘Well let’s hope you’re right. Because if you’re not–’ Viper threatened, but before she could lash out any more, Shawn had smoothly slid his hand into Sam’s, and squeezed it tight. His devious eyes were solely focussed on Aaron, and how he’d react.

  Aaron was searing, and jealousy filled his veins. His blood was boiling. Even hotter than Shawn’s when he was watching Aaron help Sam with the hatch.

  ‘I’m sure if we asked around a bit, we’re bound to discover Mike’s whereabouts.’ Shawn continued. ‘And who knows, maybe we’ll even run into him?’

  ‘There’s only one problem.’ Aaron said, raising his eyebrows, all too happy in flawing Shawn’s plan. He’d found it rather peculiar how Shawn could just as easily switch from being angry, to being smooth and collected; thereby manipulating Sam by making her think that he actually cared. ‘We’re all still dressed as prisoners. They’ll see right through us.’ Like I see right through you, Shawn, Aaron thought.

  ‘Aaron’s right. We can’t go walking through town looking–or smelling–like this.’ Melanie said. Her hands had clutched the top of her overall, and her face cringed at its awful stench. Not only would some new attire disguise them from their true narration, but also release them from the appalling sewer reek.

  Sam’s desperate eyes drifted towards the sky, not particularly studying the darkening atmosphere, but catching the fortunate sight of numerous thin clothing lines fixed above their heads.

  On each one, hung a wide variety of washed out clothing.

  Sam secured the area, checking that no one was there to see them, and clasped her hands together. It’s not stealing if it’s for the greater good, right?

  Her mind shook off the feeling of guilt, and buried it away deep within her gut. Over time, it became the most crowded part of her body. It chewed away at her insides when her hunger couldn’t.

  Of course, none of that mattered now.

  She was already responsible for so many things she shouldn’t have done. It was now up to her to do whatever she could to make things right again, and if that meant breaking a few more laws along the way, so be it.

  ‘I can solve that.’ Sam said, smiling broadly.

  Chapter 23

  ‘Steal other people’s clothes!?’ Melanie shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air, and gawking at the thin lines of clothing hung above their heads. ‘We don’t know where they’ve been…plus, it’s wrong!’

  ‘Shhh! Keep it down!’ Sam pleaded, covering Melanie’s mouth.

  ‘Mel, they won’t even notice when it’s gone.’ Luna said. ‘I mean, if my clothes had looked like that, I’d be thrilled if someone stole, um, took it.’

  Aaron chuckled. He, Shawn and Luke had already scaled the fire escapes, and was just within an arm’s reach of a wavy pair of crinkled slacks. The platform on which he’d stood felt flimsy, as if being only steps away from collapsing.

  ‘Here you go!’ Aaron called out, reaching as far as he could with the tips of his fingers, and grasping at the worn out material. The crinkled pair of slacks had easily slipped from the line, and fell to the earth into Sam’s awaiting arms.

  Along with the slacks, a tight fitted crop top, and jacket all went to Viper, who’d quickly slipped into an alley to change. Eric, on the other hand, had just as if at the Keep, stripped from his overalls and slipped into a ripped pair of denim shorts and a pale, red t-shirt. They hadn’t paid much attention to size though, for after all, a disguising piece of clothing was all that mattered.

  ‘Come on Mel, please.’ Sam pleaded. ‘This looks like it’d fit you.’

  Another piece of clothing had dropped down towards them, and as if she’d already come to grips with it, Sam snatched it out of the air while still staring at Melanie.

  It was a green tank top.

  ‘Okay, fine. Just hand it over.’ Melanie said, and Sam was thrilled. She thought the faded denim and green tank top would go great with Melanie’s eyes, never the less her scarlet red hair.

  ‘How’s it going up there, Shawn?’ Sam asked after watching Melanie slump into the alley.

  Shawn’s brawny figure was nothing to shy at. His bulging triceps had popped each time when reaching across the clothing line, and the defined lines of his abs couldn’t help but peer out from under his washed out tank. Sam stared in awe, her knees weakening.

  Shawn smiled at her from above, revealing his smouldering white teeth, and putting Sam’s to shame. She always thought she had fairly good teeth, and never dreamt that hers would possibly be out done by a guy’s.

  Back in Emitton, it wasn’t all that common to see a male with the whitest of teeth. Since oral care wasn’t considered a key essential to survive, not all would be able to afford it as a luxury. Quite frankly, teeth and hair were women’s play.

  Then again, as usual, Shawn was different.

  He had an unbearable repulsiveness in preventing people from liking him (as Sam had seen from Aaron and Viper). Although she had to admit, Shawn was somewhat of an acquired taste; always driving her to the edge of her limits; both g
ood and bad.

  Since the very start, Sam had struggled to figure him out, seeing him alter his behaviour by the regular. Never the less, had he succeeded in weakening her knees: His musky scent, and strong manly hands. Not even to mention the way he dominates over her. Sam had always been strong and independent, but found it surprisingly refreshing to be swept off her feet, and put in her place.

  ‘Don’t you think you’re falling for Shawn too fast?’ Melanie had asked her.

  ‘No.’ Sam lied. ‘I mean, I don’t even know IF I’m even falling for him, I just feel really good when I’m around him.’

  When all the while, the truth was she HAD fallen for him, and fallen hard.

  Sam smiled back at Shawn.

  ‘Can you catch?’ Shawn asked, scrunching a bundle of clothes into a ball. Sam nodded, and he tossed it down. She reaped it out of the air, and clutched it tight as if it was the most valuable object ever. It was now only Sam herself, and the three boys Luke, Aaron and Shawn who had still needed to change.

  * * *

  As all overalls were casted off, and new, lighter clothing were draped on, a spark of life admitted through the group. They felt a faint breeze coolly grazing their skin, something they’d never felt in the overalls, and swelled of trinity.

  Sam had changed into a brown stained, supposed to be grey, tank top, and paired it with an off-black skinny jean, and her usual thick boots.

  ‘Come on.’ She said, rushing down the street, and jumping over potholes. ‘Before the owners of these clothes realize its missing!’

  They had casted their drenched overalls into a bulky, green bin against the wall of an alleyway, closed its top, and disappeared around the corner.

  Most of the buildings they’d passed were burnt to the ground. Libraries were used as graffiti canvasses, and a post-office-turned-graveyard was home to the bodies of long ago buried people.

  The only sign of life was that of distant murmuring voices in some of the flats.

  When turning into the main street, swarms of emerging people had smothered the group, and struck their breath away. At the far edge of town, they saw a large mechanical pump. It had rocked up and down, in and out the ground, with an ear piercing racket.