The Apocalypse Five (Archive of the Five Book 1)

by Stacey Rourke

  Leif’s stare didn’t waver, but bored into Reno out of need to hear the sentiment from him.

  “She’ll be fine.” Reno’s attention was diverted by Auggie cresting the rise of a sand dune.

  Hand clamped on the wiry shoulder of the soldier that shot at them, Auggie urged him along with the barrel of his gun pressed to his spine.

  “Where’s Juneau?” Reno demanded, craning his neck to peer around Augusta.

  Hesitating, Auggie glanced behind him as if expecting her to follow him out. “How would I know? You told me to guard the dude. I guarded the dude. I wasn’t aware of a step two.”

  Reno tore up the embankment, stabbing a finger at the ground beside Auggie. “I laid her down right here.”

  His lips clamped to squelch a snicker, the fortsman gave an amused shake of his head.

  “You got something to say?” Auggie delivered a swift boot stomp to the back of his knee, forcing him to the ground. “Do you know where she is?”

  Spitting out a mouthful of sand with a chuckle, the notably un-notable fortsman pushed himself up to his knees. “Me? Why would I know what happened to the trash you left laying around?”

  Reno drew the weapon at his hip, flipped a switch, and made it hum to life. “She’s my sister.”

  Tempting fate in the most suicidal of ways, the young soldier blinked up at Reno and offered him a toothy smile. “Then, you really should keep a better eye on her.”

  A flash of light streaked overhead, setting fire to the sky as a diamond-shaped shuttle blasted overhead. Tilting its wings at a sharp right, it broke the sound barrier with a supersonic pop and vanished.

  “Oops.” The soldier cringed, lifting his shoulders to his ears. “Looks like you missed your chance.”

  “What was that?” Auggie adjusted his grip on his weapon, his nostrils flaring. “Do they have Juneau? Where are they taking her?”

  Sucking air through his teeth, the smug soldier’s eyes crinkled victoriously. “That was a lot of questions. Which should I start with?”

  Chest rising and falling in ragged pants, Reno silently glared him down.

  Auggie cocked his weapon and pressed it to the Fortress soldier’s temple. “Where … is … that … ship … going?” He uttered each word slowly and deliberately, so no part of the underlining threat could be missed.

  “It doesn’t matter. By the time you get there, she will be AT-1-NS property. Even more than she already was.” He snorted at his own cruel joke.

  Arching back, Auggie pistol whipped him with the butt of his gun. The strike cracked the fortsman’s cheek, snapping his head to the side. “Don’t make me ask you again. Where is the ship going?”

  The soldier wiped the blood from his split lip on the back of his hand, and spit rust-tinged saliva on Augusta’s boot. “It doesn’t matter. By the time you get there, cadet 1205 will be dead, or … reprogramed. But that’s your main concern, right? Saving one of you, even though you’re all trained to die?”

  Wearing a mask of icy indifference, Reno extended his hand in Auggie’s direction. “Give me your gun.”

  “Reno, I can—”

  From the face of a child, stabbed blind daggers of hate. “Give. Me. The. Gun.”

  “As you wish, little man. But I’m handing it off with the disclaimer that this seems like a bad idea.” Palming the barrel, he offered it to Reno’s grip.

  Reno opened the chamber, dropping the bullets to the ground until only one remained. “Her name is Juneau. She’s a person, not a number.” Spinning the chamber, he locked it into place and squeezed the trigger. The soldier flinched at the click of the empty barrel. “That’s what you all try to make us. Faceless progs you mold and maneuver as you see fit.”

  Once again, he spun the chamber. Shhhhhh. Click. Another empty. Paling in terror, even the fortsman seemed to be calculating the odds of how long his luck could hold out. “We aren’t granted an identity, until you see fit. So many cadets, and that’s the life forced upon them because there’s no other way.” Shhhh. Click. “But Juneau and me? We were different. We had each other from the beginning. She called me Benny. I called her June, after some stupid old movie she forced me to watch from the archives. I could never be the detached soldier I was meant to be, because keeping her safe is more important to me that anything else.”

  Shhhh. Click. Tears zigzagged over the soldier’s cheeks, inaudible prayers for mercy tumbling from his lips. “If only you all realized; you can train us, torture us, kill us, but there’s something deep within each and every child that longs for the connection of family. That you can never break. You walk away from this? You can tell them that for me. Now, where are they taking my sister?”

  “They took her to the Fortress,” the soldier sniveled. “But you’ll—”

  Shhhh. Bam!

  A lone shot rang out, cutting off that sentence in the most final of ways.

  While white wisps of smoke twined from the gun barrel, the fortsman’s body collapsed to the ground. Gaze fixed on the hollowed hole glugging out crimson core, Reno smacked Auggie in the gut with the gun until he pried it from his grip.

  “I’ve never heard him talk that much before,” Detroit muttered for Houston’s ears only, her eyes bulging in disbelief. “It was terrifying.”

  “It came from this direction! Come on!” a voice called out, followed by the rustle of leaves and snap of branches.

  Detroit and Auggie readied their weapons, taking aim in the direction of the incoming ruckus. Honoring his self-made vow, Houston pulled his fists from his sides, prepared for a little old-fashion hand-to-hand combat. Reno didn’t move—his stare still locked at the life he had taken.

  Tatum broke through the clearing, immediately holding up her hands. “Whoa! We … uh,” her gaze flicked to the body slumped on the ground, where a green pallor washed over her features, “came to help.”

  Detroit dropped her arm and tucked her gun into her belt. “That was you, then? That cleared the shoreline for us?”

  Swallowing hard, Tatum forced her gaze from the fallen man. “It was. You can’t sneak off a captain’s ship without them knowing, by the way. The walls have eyes, and they all report back to me.”

  Flanked by roughly a dozen other Floaters, Nicoli crunched through the foliage behind Tatum. The moment his black stare fell on Detroit, he zeroed in with an intensity that caused Houston to bristle. “Are you okay? You’re a disturbing color of purple.”

  “I’m g-g-great,” Detroit stammered through the jaws of another jarring tremor. “Nothing like a brisk polar bear swim.”

  “The Fortress, how do we get there?” Reno rasped, his crystal blue eyes glassed over by shock.

  “It’s a half day trek that way.” Tatum pointed two fingers to the west of them. “But you can see the mountain that houses the caves through that cut up ahead. The people of that camp are far more understanding and compassionate than the rest of us ingrates. They offer refuge to all who seek it. We can stop there to get you warmed up, and into dry clothes. I would even suggest you treat yourselves to a bit of rest, since you decided to forego that last night and make a cloaked departure. Then, as soon as you’re ready, we’ll take you to the Fortress.”

  “We’re ready now,” Reno countered, jabbing his thumb in the wrong direction. “You said it’s that way?”

  “You’re soaked, brother,” Nicoli pointed out, his stare traveling the length of him. “And the day promises to only get colder. There’s a front moving in.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Reno mumbled, stumbling into the trees. “None of it matters. I just … need her back.”

  Dragging her leaden feet forward in an awkward jog, Detroit cut in front of Reno and halted his march with a forearm to his chest. “When you treated the baby, what did you say?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to—”

  The team leader cut him off by bumping his breast bone with her arm with a bit more force. “When you treated the baby, what did you say?” she demanded.

 
His shoulders sagged with defeat, and his chin fell to his chest. “Swallowing water wasn’t the primary concern. It was the cold.”

  Releasing her hold, Detroit ran a tender hand down the length of his arm. She forced her frozen fingers to link with his, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “We will get our girl back, Reno. I promise you that. But, to do that, we have to stay alive.”

  “I appreciate the gesture, but your hands are crazy cold.” Reno forced a sad smile as he sniffled, finally looking his thirteen years.

  Letting go, Detroit held her hands out and turned them over in cursory inspection. “Heck, I’m glad you can feel them at all. At this point, I thought they had snapped off.”

  Filling his lungs, Reno exhaled through pursed lips. “We change our clothes, raise our body temps, then we go after her.”

  “With the full fury of hell,” Detroit added, her voice iron-clad conviction.

  Nicoli dragged his tongue over his lower lip, and hitched one brow in Detroit’s direction. “I’m more than willing to offer my services if there are any parts you need help warming.”

  “You need to slow down there, friend,” Houston grumbled the word in an audible threat. “That was a light speed jump from blatant asshole to skeevy creeper.”

  Shaking her head, Tatum shrugged off the canteen strung around her neck and punched her brother in the gut with it. “I’m really looking forward to the day the big guy beats you down. For now, you need to run ahead and give the Cave Dwellers warning that we’re coming. They need to …” stare drifting to the baby, she chose her words carefully, “brace themselves for what’s about to land at their threshold.”

  “If they don’t chase me off, I’ll be keeping a hot spring warm,” Nicoli said with a tossed wink to Detroit, before jogging off through the woods.

  Hands on her hips, Tatum evaluated the shivering team and the Floaters who accompanied her. Shimming out of her woolen overcoat, she nodded her encouragement for her people to do the same. “If you’ve got an extra layer, handed it over. Let’s bundle the baby first, then the rest of them. This will all be for nothing if our spark of rebellion freezes.”

  Chapter 20

  Every step of their abbreviated trek was biting. The morning chill froze their wet clothes to their skin. Past the point of shivers, they held tight to the promise of relief and trudged on. The baby, however, was in perfect health and more comfortable than any of the others who had gone into the water. Swaddled in layers of the Floaters’ donations, she contently slept in her father’s arms.

  Through breaks in the trees, a mountain swelled before them. Its towering peak of red clay, carved its magnificent glory into the skyline. The people that called it home came out to greet them, filing from the mound like busy carpenter ants. A lion of a man took the helm of the pack, his mocha complexion as rich and vital as that of the earth he strode from. His topaz stare was quick and calculating as he scanned those seeking entry to his treasured home.

  “Tatum, I’m glad you finally took me up on the offer of a visit.” Leaning against an intricately carved walking stick, he spoke in a deep, hypnotically smooth timbre. “I knew, eventually, you would learn that distancing yourself from the problems of the world doesn’t make them go away.”

  Tatum’s mouth opened, only to immediately snap back shut.

  Crossing his arms atop the stick, any easy chuckle rumbled from the barrel chest of the leader of the Cave Dwellers. “See, cousins, this is where she normally tells me I will one day starve by feeding all of the wayward travelers of this world. But since today she counts herself among them, she doesn’t wish to offend and bite the hand that would willingly feed her. What a stifling place, the moral high ground can be.”

  His people—all dressed in revealing, airy fabrics in spite of the cold—chuckled without an ounce of malicious intent.

  Clearing her throat, Tatum shoved off the comforting shawl of her own beliefs and braved the bite of the unknown. “I appreciate your offer of sanctuary, Morgan. I’m sure Nicoli explained these are somewhat sensitive circumstances.”

  The man they now knew as Morgan, dipped his head in a nod of confirmation. “He made some rather wild claims. I expect you have some proof of this infant able to defy the odds?”

  “It’s been roughly forty-six hours since her birth.” Detroit moved to Tatum’s side, mostly out of fear of solidifying to a block of ice if she stood still. “She’s alive, and healthy. Never has she been taken off planet for any kind of testing, or inoculations.”

  An excited buzz rippled through the crowd that Morgan silenced with the raise of his hand. “I always found that claim tough to swallow. Another way for the Fortress to control us using basic, primal fear. For who could be brave, or foolish, enough to risk the safety of their child to prove them wrong? It’s an inhumane form of punishment. In two hours’ time, if that precious life is still thriving, we will all owe great thanks to the parents who took this risk on all our behalf.” With a roll of his wrist, he waved Leif closer. “Please, allow us to look upon your blessing.”

  Uncovering Adalyn’s angelic face, the proud father turned her so everyone could get a glimpse. Cheeks bright with an apricot blush, her lashes fluttered as she slept.

  The crowd welcomed the sight of her as their messiah of hope.

  Hands fluttered up to cover breathless gasps.

  Eyes swam with grateful tears.

  Some fell to their knees.

  Others openly wept.

  Arms were thrown out wide in thanks to a higher power.

  Morgan let his walking stick sag in front of him, and studied that infant’s face as if trying to memorizing every detail. Glancing first to Leif, then Remi, he spoke for every pained soul blessed by their courage. “Thank you, for taking a blind leap of faith so many of us—myself included—were too scared to attempt. Your bravery has been rewarded with the greatest blessing imaginable.”

  Edging closer to Leif’s side, the sleeves of her borrowed coat dangling over her hands, Remi wrapped her arms around him and leaned into the miracle of her little family.

  “Know, that as you go forth from here, the strongest of the Cave Dwellers will accompany you. Ready to sacrifice all to protect the flame of hope that is your child. We invite you to first come inside. Let us all nourish and prepare our vessels for the journey ahead.” Rocking back in a side-step, Morgan welcomed them to the gaping maw of the mountain.

  ***

  Within the caves it was easy to see why the inhabitants opted for lightweight clothing. Lit by torches spaced throughout the catacomb of tunnels and caverns, the mountain held in the heat with a thick balminess that stuck to their skin. Detroit didn’t realize how cold she was until the shock of warmth prickled over her frosted skin like millions of tiny needles. When her teeth resumed their chattering, she didn’t think they would stop. With the force they clapped together, she worried they would crack.

  After handing her a bundle of fresh, dry clothes, members of the Cave Dweller clan showed her to a private grotto carved into the mountain that put the spas back on the AT-1-NS to shame. In the center of the space, a hot spring bubbled against the back wall, steam wafting from its surface in inviting tendrils. Soft flames from an assortment of torches haloed the room in a warm, flickering glow. White towels were folded on a bench formed out of russet rock. Beside it sat clay cups, and a copper canteen of water. Picking it up, Detroit sniffed it. Fresh and clean. Eyeing the hot spring, she made sense of the slight hum echoing through the caves. The Cave Dwellers must have rigged a hydraulic filtration system similar to that of the Floaters. She was trained for that kind of forward thinking. These people took remnants from their crumbling world, and made them a comfortable way of life. Their ingenuity was nothing short of impressive. Pouring herself a cup of water, Detroit sucked it down then treated herself to a refill.

  Detroit glanced back at the entrance to the hollow, groaning at the realization that doors—whether by choice or necessity—were not an option here. Peeling off her c
old and crunchy flight suit, and the rather rank pajamas underneath, she opted to leave her bra and panties on due to the lack of privacy. After grabbing her cup of water, she eased herself into the spring. Decadent, frothy warmth licked over her skin, earning an incredibly appreciative moan of delight.

  This moment would be fleeting, of that she held no doubt. Even so, if a moment of heaven was all she was allowed, Detroit fully intended to take advantage of it. Settling in, with the water lapping at her shoulders, she stretched her legs out and wriggled her toes in the spray of bubbles.

  “Oh, shit! Sorry!” a familiar voice yelped, interrupting her serene moment.

  Detroit’s head whipped around to find Houston hovering in the mouth of the grotto, his back respectfully turned to her.

  “They told me to take this room. They didn’t mention it was previously occupied,” he explained, tipping his chin in her direction.

  “Orion’s Belt, Houston, are you blushing?” Detroit laughed. Easing across the hot spring, she rested her chin on the back of her hand. “What happened to the guy that came sauntering into the gym full of swagger and cheesy pick-up lines?”

  “You were … wearing a lot more clothing then.” Houston grimaced as if the words physically pained him.

  A genuine chortle of laughter threatening, Detroit bit down on her lower lip to stifle it. “I’m wearing the equivalent of a swimsuit, and I’m completely under water. You can turn around. I promise it won’t tarnish your virtue.”

  Houston hesitated before turning, giving her an extra beat to change her mind. “I was trying to be respectful. But seeing as we both grew up in the academy, I guess that’s a wasted effort. We’re both used to sharing a bathroom with about a hundred people.”

  Setting her cup on the ground, Detroit pushed back and stroked her arms back and forth through the bubbling water. “Let’s be honest, no one ever gets used to showering with about thirty people at a time, or toilet stalls with no doors. Personal space was a nonissue.”

  “That’s the thing,” the fresh clothes he had been given gripped in his fist, Houston let his well-toned arms droop at his sides, “I don’t ever want you to feel like things with us are … forced. I only want to be in your space if you want me there.”