The Renegades (Book 4): Colony

by Jack Hunt

  Waiting were six Boeing CH-47 Chinooks. Each one carried thirty-three passengers for a total of thirty-seven with crew. The trucks parked about fifty feet away. The sound of the tandem rotors was deafening. The back flap on the truck dropped and they guided us towards the helicopter that would take us to our final destination.

  We went around the back of the Chinook and up a loading ramp into the cargo holding area. For a helicopter that could carry that many people it was pretty cramped. Either side had red lightweight fold-down seats. With the seats in an upright position a vehicle could be loaded in the back. In this case though, they were down. The interior had silver padding and a large American flag affixed to the ceiling. I took a seat beside Jess, strapped myself into a five-point harness seat belt, and stared at a couple of green first-aid kits that were stowed away.

  There was no point in us attempting to talk to each other as the whirring noise of the rotor blades was like a high-pitched scream in our ears. I couldn’t tell you what the others were thinking as we lifted away in a cloud of dust.

  But I know what I was thinking.

  I had my reservations about it all. As we banked a hard left I saw a few of the other helicopters out of the back head off in a different direction. Up to that moment we hadn’t experienced animosity towards us to make us question their intentions — except a few riled-up officers.

  It was a fairly turbulent three-hour journey that concluded with us landing on a helipad sometime that afternoon. I didn’t see much out the back except water.

  “Welcome to paradise,” an officer said, hustling us out.

  “Where are we?” someone asked.

  “Rikers Island, New York. But we call it the Hive.”

  I hadn’t heard of the place but it didn’t look very inviting. Large concrete walls with barbed wire encircled the perimeter. We came to find out that it was New York City’s main jail complex, an island of four hundred and thirteen acres situated in the East River between Queens and the Bronx. There was only one road on and off the island. At its peak it could hold up to fifteen thousand people.

  It might have been safe but it wasn’t paradise. It was a dismal-looking location built for holding prisoners. Luxury wasn’t the goal, containment was.

  I had a bad feeling about this.

  There were ten jails and seemingly countless facilities. All of them looked the same: government run, low budget, and bleak. A few passengers voiced concern and were told not to worry, as the area we would be staying in wasn’t bad at all. According to them, they had prepared for a situation just like this. That was a lie if I’d heard one. They hurried us into a large building with doors coated in a light blue paint. The walls were yellowish white as though they had been tainted by cigarette smoke. Guided down a series of corridors, I noticed iron bars everywhere. The entire place smelled of bleach and metal. We were brought into a large gymnasium with basketball nets and tiered bleachers. They told us to go take a seat and wait for more instructions. We weren’t the only ones there. There had to have been at least another four hundred people gathered together. Noisy chatter made it hard to think. Strangers stared at each other, giving the whole place a cold feel.

  The only ones packing sidearms were the guards who were dressed in black with baseball caps. We all took a seat and watched even more people stream in. There was a sense that no one knew what this place was or even if we could leave.

  “Now as much as I didn’t like those hillbillies, I’m starting to wonder if we didn’t have a good thing going on back there,” Elijah said. “I ain’t sleeping in no cell.”

  His eyes were darting around nervously. Most of the people, some of the guards included, looked taken aback by Ben’s SWAT attire.

  “Okay, okay, quiet now.” A large man sporting a buzzed Mohawk came in with two others. The guy behind him was dressed in a pristine suit, the woman beside him wore white doctor’s garb.

  “Afternoon, everyone. Settle down. I’m James Fritz. Though most refer to me here as the Warden. I know you all have questions and in time we will answer those. I wish to welcome you and let you know that should you have any concerns my door is always open. It’s going to take a little while to make the arrangements for where you will be sleeping. For now, my colleague, Dr. Brenton here, would like to do a preliminary medical examination.”

  “Why?” someone yelled.

  Dr. Brenton answered. “Precautionary. It’s to insure that you are physically well. We can’t have any viruses being spread here on the island. Besides we want to make sure that if any of you are lacking any essential nutrients, we can make a note of that.”

  “You will all be provided with a map of where you can go and where you can’t,” Fritz added.

  A gruff-looking man with tattoo of a skull on his neck shouted out, “Are we allowed to leave or are we prisoners?” That was followed by nods from others.

  “Of course you can leave. But why would you?” he turned, addressing everyone. “You are some of the fortunate few who are safe. Behind these walls you will live, but I can’t say the same for out there.” He paused. “And no, you are not prisoners. In fact, you are a vital part of the future of mankind.”

  “Well then, you won’t mind me leaving, will you?”

  “Of course not. Tanner here will escort you out.”

  The stranger got up from the bench and joined the one they referred to as Tanner. He was the man with the buzzed Mohawk.

  “Anyone else care to leave?”

  I turned to Ben and looked at Elijah. Baja shrugged. We were all on the fence. But after being outside we were prepared to at least see what this place was about. Jess squeezed my hand. I think it was nerves more than anything. I gave her a weak smile.

  “Okay then. Welcome to the Hive.” He paused and gestured to the woman beside him. “Dr. Brenton.”

  She stepped forward with a clipboard.

  “When I call your name please follow the left corridor and a staff member will escort you to building 403.”

  She began rattling off names and people streamed out. As the crowds thinned she had others go down an alternative corridor. The lines were so long they trailed out of the older pasty-looking buildings into recently developed facilities. The rooms inside were large and contained highly sophisticated medical equipment. We each perched on metal stools, waiting to be seen. There were five people dressed in white outfits checking vitals and hooking us up to monitoring equipment. Blue glowing lines flicked up and down, others beeped steadily. They extracted blood, and injected what they said was protection against bites.

  “Insect bites, bedbug bites?”

  “Sort of.”

  I hesitated and pulled back before letting them do it.

  “Sort of?”

  “It’s okay, it only stings for a second.”

  “It’s not a matter if it stings or not. I want to know what it does?”

  “It’s packed with nutrients and essentials in the event infection was to spread.”

  “Infection?”

  “It’s up to you. You don’t have to have it.”

  “What if I choose to opt out?”

  “You would have to leave the island.”

  Drastic. Not a good sign.

  I stared over at Elijah and the others who all appeared to be accepting it except for Baja who was trying to flirt with his doctor. I’m pretty sure I caught him saying something about showing her his needle. Then he got this look on his face and realized that it came out wrong.

  I paused before agreeing to the injection. It was one of those awkward moments you wonder if you are going to fuck it up for everyone. I really didn’t want to have anything injected into me that I didn’t know about. It reminded me of the time I got the flu shot and then found myself in bed for two weeks. I grimaced at the thought. Then on the other hand I didn’t want to end up being kicked out. Reluctantly I gave a nod. She placed the gun-like device up to my right shoulder. There was a click, then a hiss.

  “There, that wasn’t so
bad, was it?”

  “How long have you been working here?” I asked the doctor.

  She glanced at me then spoke, “A few weeks.”

  “Where were you before this?”

  “Texas.”

  “How did you get picked?”

  “I guess I got lucky.”

  She smiled. Extracted the needle from my arm, dabbed it with something cold, then covered it with a cotton ball and tape.

  THE HIVE

  “WHAT A SHITHOLE!” Baja said surveying the room.

  Compared to Wright-Patterson that’s exactly what this place was.

  After being prodded and probed we were guided to a dormitory. The large rooms held up to forty people. It was a glorified homeless shelter. The beds, if they could even be called that, were low to the ground. Nothing more than a cot really with a grey cotton blanket and a pillow. At the end of each of the beds folded neatly were brown clothes. I picked mine up and looked over at the others. Everyone was wearing the same thing. On the back in white were the initials PRM, then a number. Mine was 212.

  “PRM 212, what the fuck is this?” I muttered.

  A voice beside me answered. “If you want to survive this place, don’t ask questions.”

  I looked to my right. Lying back on the cot beside me was a skinny kid reading the novel Moby Dick. He brought the book down to his chin, then swung his legs over the side and sat up. He looked around nervously.

  “They can hear and see everything.”

  “Who?”

  He gestured with his head towards the corner of the room. Coming down from the ceiling was a small, black dome camera.

  “Them.”

  Two guards looked over at us and I turned my back towards them.

  “132, come over here.”

  He got this scared look on his face, handed me the book but kept a hold of it.

  “If I don’t return, turn to page 213, you are going to need it if you want to get out of here alive.”

  He let go and began walking away.

  “What’s your name?”

  He turned back and smirked.

  “Alex Bird, but most call me Birdy. These asshats call me 132.”

  I nodded, watching him disappear down the hall with one of the guards. My eyes dropped. I had never read Moby Dick. Apparently it was one of the books that everyone was supposed to read before they die. I opened it up and thumbed through to page 213.

  Scribbled in the margin was a picture of a woman with large tits and the words, Hey big boy! I was pretty sure that wasn’t what he wanted to show me. I looked back up, shook my head, and tossed it back on his cot. As it bounced a little, a plastic card fell out. I reached for it, picking the book up at the same time.

  It looked like an access key card like the kind used to gain entry to a hotel room.

  “212.” I heard my number being called. My pulse raced a little as I slid the card back into the book and placed it down on Birdy’s bed. By the time I turned, the guard was already behind me.

  “What did he want?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “132, he was talking to you.”

  His eyes looked at the book and then my bed.

  “Nothing. He just introduced himself and reminded me that happy hour was at five.” I glanced up at the clock. “And that’s right about now. So, if you don’t mind I’m going to go indulge. I hear the margaritas are real tasty.”

  He grasped my forearm. On his chest was a tag that read, Randall.

  “In a hurry?” He stared intently.

  I held up the brown clothes. “Have you seen these outfits? Excuse me if I can’t contain my excitement to see what I look like in the mirror.”

  The guard scanned the others.

  “Can I go now?”

  He released his herculean grip and I strolled out of the room following the rest of the sheep who were either changing into their new outfits or streaming down a corridor heading for the cafeteria. I looked at the clothes in my hands, scoffed, and dumped them in the garbage can.

  “I’m not a number.”

  I joined the crowd of young and old shuffling along. The hallway had arrows on the floor for those who weren’t good at following the map. What other reason would it be for? Most wore the ugly brown jumpsuits that resembled the kind of clothing a plumber might wear if he had dipped himself in a giant cowpat. A few had chosen to not bother. To my amusement Jess and Izzy were among those. I’m sure the powers that be would have had a hard time trying to convince those two to change into anything like that. It wasn’t because they were divas. Far from it, but they were strong-willed and not used to being told what to do.

  I caught up with them. Behind us, among an ocean of faces, I heard Baja call out. He was jumping up and down, waving his arms. To the annoyance of others, he squeezed his way through.

  “Excuse me. Coming through.”

  Ben and Elijah were already picking at their food when we spotted them.

  The hall that they were using for a cafeteria was as bland as the rest of the building. We lined up, grabbed a tray, and glanced at what they had on the menu. It might as well have been pig slop. Contained within metal trays was green mush that looked like it had dripped from someone’s nose. Beyond that was scrambled eggs, toast and…

  “Bacon? Oh please tell me that is bacon and not a slice of an ass cheek?” I hollered.

  Behind the counter were four guards kitted out with white aprons.

  “I’m pretty sure you guys should be wearing hairnets,” Baja said, pulling a thick black hair from his dish. I didn’t even want to know where that came from.

  They chuckled and scooped a large serving of the green muck before I could decline. It splattered before they handed it to me. I sniffed. It had the aroma of a veggie that had been baked in the sun, swallowed by a hobo, and ejected out of a rear end. They tossed a bread bun and I caught it before it became contaminated by the toxic slush. The eggs weren’t much better. I don’t know who was in charge of cooking them but I had to wonder if they just showed the egg to the pan and then cracked it on the plate. It was half-cooked and swimming in what could only be described as clear snot.

  I scanned the room. Ten long horizontal tables were filled. The sound of chatter was low and garbled. There was no laughter. I joined Jess and Izzy four tables in. I tossed my paper plate down and sighed.

  “Paradise. More like parasites,” Jess muttered. “I saw a cockroach crawling near my cot.”

  “That’s nothing,” Baja said, plopping down beside me. “Someone had taken a shit in the showers. The whole place reeked. I didn’t even notice it until I stepped into the cubicle and found the drain clogged up. And you know the worst part…”

  “I would say, don’t bother, I’m eating, but I’m not eating this crap,” Elijah said.

  “I touched it,” Baja continued.

  We all groaned and Izzy pushed her plate away. “I didn’t want anything to eat anyway.”

  “Can I have your roll then, sweet cheeks?” Baja said, edging his hand closer to her plate.

  I expected her to slap him.

  “Knock yourself out.”

  Baja was the only one scoffing down food.

  “So where have they got you two?” I asked Jess.

  “Six rooms down from you all. Nothing but women in ours.”

  Now you have to understand, as some might have wondered, if it was so bad, why stay? Why didn’t we just head out when that guy in the gymnasium did? Well, as bad as the place was, outside was worse. The city we were told was overrun with Z’s and in ruins. The chances of surviving out there were slim.

  “I’m telling yah, this place ain’t bad,” Baja said with a mouthful of gunk.

  “By the way, what happened to Kat Greer, the president’s daughter?” Ben asked Izzy.

  “No idea. She was whisked away within the first twenty-four hours of arriving at Wright-Patterson.”

  “And the cure?” Elijah asked.

  Jess shook her head. “They didn
’t tell us anything. We were clothed, fed, and given a place to sleep but that was it. When the alarms went off at NORAD we were led out with others.”

  As we continued to eat the Warden came in.

  “Can I have your attention? Quiet down. I need a moment of your time.”

  The noise in the cafeteria dropped to a murmur.

  “As you know, the Hive is one of many sanctuaries around the country. While we would like to say that room and board is free, it’s not. Like any community you will be required to perform duties. These are mandatory. You will each be assigned a task on your way out today. Please be sure to report to your stations. That’s all.” He glanced down at his notepad then looked up.

  “PRM 212.”

  I looked his way but didn’t reply. He frowned, casting his eyes around the room. The man he called Tanner whispered something in his ear before he looked over at me. Tanner navigated his way around the tables. He was a hulk of a man.

  “212, why aren’t you and the others wearing your assigned clothes?”

  I looked around aimlessly. “212? Anyone here by that name?”

  “Why are you still wearing civilian clothes?” he repeated.

  “Maybe because I am a civilian,” I replied.

  “Get up.”

  I remained seated.

  “Did you not hear me?” he said.

  I took a bite of my bread and continued staring ahead.

  “I heard you, but you forgot the magic word.”

  He leaned over Baja and grabbed a hold of me by the back of my collar. That was a mistake. Ben, Elijah, and Baja hopped up along with Jess and Izzy and all hell broke loose. Two other security guards double-timed it over holding sticks that let out a tiny blue crackling light. Unfortunately for them they didn’t get a chance to use them.

  “Enough,” the Warden yelled.

  Tanner had a look of death in his eyes.

  “Mr. Goode, a moment of your time. That’s all I want.”

  “People using my name, that’s all I want.”

  “Please. Would you.” He motioned for me to follow. The others settled down as Tanner and the other two security officers backed up. I followed the Warden out of the cafeteria. Tanner and his goons followed a short distance behind.