The Colony

by Kathleen Groger

  Megan dropped the blanket. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Dad taught a course one semester about the psychology of the brain. He said that left-handed people tend to use both sides of their brain more equally than righties—”

  “Balanced mind.” I smacked my palm off the fabric seats. Maybe my theory back at the home improvement store hadn’t been so far off.

  “You’re right. The Rasper said balanced mind. That must be it. Lefties become Raspers and righties die…” Megan’s face twisted in a look of horror like a twenty-pound spider sat in front of her. “Oh, God. That means I’ll die…”

  My nails dug into my palms so hard they left crescent moon indentations. “Nobody’s dying. But if left-handed people become Raspers, why didn’t we change?”

  I barely slept; I was too wired. Visions of becoming a Rasper played over and over in my head. What was it about Adam and me? There had to be something different about us. What? I went through everything. We were born in different states, weren’t related, we’d gone to different schools, never had any strange illnesses. Besides the left-handedness, what we had in common was normal teenage crap. Food. Music. Sports. Movies. Adam had a love of driving video games. I wasn’t a gamer. Nothing useful. But something linked us. Something was keeping us human.

  At least for now.

  When the dark turned to light, we left the bus and I bee-lined toward the Hummer in the middle of the convoy. It had keys in the ignition, but it wouldn’t turn on. No gas. I checked the back. Three full gas cans and a metal box rested in the cargo space. I flipped the latch of the box and gave a low whistle at the sight of three rifles snuggled together and ammo belts strapped to the lid. I took a belt and slung it over my hips. I switched the bag to my right side and hoisted the rifle over my left. Look out, Raspers. I was armed and dangerous.

  “Very G.I. Jane,” Megan said after I came around the side of the vehicle. “It suits you.”

  “I know, right? What’s he doing?” I nodded toward Adam, who stood staring at the over-turned bus.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Are there more?”

  “In the box in the back of the Hummer.”

  I turned toward Adam. “Hey, we’re ready to roll. Are you?”

  Megan came back, tugging on the strap of one of the two rifles she wore.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” Adam shook his head, ran his hand through his hair, then walked over to where we stood by the Hummer.

  “You okay to drive?” I prayed he would say yes.

  “Man, you two look like you’re going to war. Where did you get the weapons?”

  “In the vehicles, but I don’t think they normally pack these.” Megan took off the guns and hopped in the back seat.

  Adam filled the gas tank.

  I climbed in the passenger seat with the Bug while Adam settled into the driver’s side. I pulled out the GPS again and plugged it in the power socket. The device searched for a satellite. I prayed it would find one this time. Finally, it located us. “Yes.”

  “Type in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania.” Adam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “My dad said that Site R was designed as a backup for the Pentagon if there was ever nuclear war.”

  “I remember Uncle John saying something about it. Isn’t it connected to the place where the President vacationed?” Megan yawned.

  “Camp David?” Adam gave Megan a quick glance.

  “I have no idea. I never heard of the place before Adam mentioned it.” I typed in the city.

  We drove all day, stopping once to refill the gas tank. My butt and legs ached from being in the same position so long.

  The roads were destroyed in some places and perfectly fine in others. The same with the towns we passed. Some were burnt-down shells of their former glory, while other towns looked like people simply ceased to exist. When the sun started its slow descent into the horizon, we were somewhere outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

  “Should we stop somewhere or keep going?” Adam needed a break and I guessed I could drive the big beast.

  Megan yawned again. “Let’s find someplace to spend the night.”

  “I could drive for a little while,” I offered.

  “I’m not sure driving at night would be a good idea,” Adam said.

  “Why not? We’re in a damn bullet-proof, military-issued Hummer.” I hit the door. “Solid.”

  “But the roads are crap. We could end up in a canyon if we drive in the dark.”

  “We have the headlights. I say we keep going. I’ll drive.” I wanted to get to Site R. Needed to end the running and the hiding. I really wanted hot food, a shower, and a worry-free sleep.

  Adam yawned. “Fine.” He stopped the Humvee and we switched positions. It took a few minutes and a few too many stomps on the brakes until I got comfortable driving the mammoth vehicle. The GPS directed me, but couldn’t warn me when the road would fall apart or when a car or truck would suddenly appear dead in my path. Adam leaned against the window, sleeping. Megan snored softly from the back.

  Again, my thoughts turned to the possibility I was housing a Bug in my brain. This was all wrong. I wanted to be back in school worrying about my grades and what college I was going to go to. Not worrying that any minute I might turn into a yellow-skinned mutant.

  The GPS said we had about thirty more miles until we got to Site R. Thirty miles until safety.

  A faint buzzing sound penetrated my eardrums. I glanced at Adam and checked Megan in the rearview mirror. They were still asleep. The Bug was in my bag next to my seat, but the noise wasn’t coming from the jar. It was outside. I lowered the window a crack and the sound grew louder.

  I opened the window the whole way, stopped the Hummer, and shut off the headlights. The buzzing grew to a roar.

  “Guys, wake up.” I tapped Adam on the arm.

  Adam straightened and seemed wide-awake. “What is it?”

  “Why are we stopped?” Megan asked, yawning.

  I held up my hand. “Listen.”

  “I don’t hear anything.” Megan leaned closer to the front.

  “It’s an engine.” Adam pulled out his gun.

  Shit. An engine. Had the trucks found us or was it a different group? Or something else? Something worse?

  Megan grabbed her rifles.

  I tucked the shotgun next to the door.

  “Okay, now I hear it.” Megan tightened her grip on the gun. “Should we keep driving?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The engine grew in intensity and proximity.

  “Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with us. Turn the Hummer back on so I can open my window.”

  As soon as he had the window lowered, I shut the motor back off.

  “Do you think we should—” The engine’s roar drowned my words. Where was it? I leaned out the window and a bright light blinded me.

  “What the hell?” Adam yelled. More light mixed with the first.

  “Exit the vehicle.” A voice boomed over a loudspeaker.

  “Don’t do it!” Megan shouted.

  I didn’t plan to get out, but a red laser shined into the windshield and painted Adam’s chest crimson.

  “Lasers. Do it. Get out. Now.” Adam shouted over the engine noise.

  We climbed from the Hummer, all of us clutching our weapons. The bright lights came from an object hovering in front and above us. More noises joined the first engine. These more distinct. More recognizable. Helicopters. They circled, their searchlights blazing down on the Hummer, the road, and us.

  The red laser marked Adam’s chest again. Then one on Megan’s.

  I looked down and my breath caught at the scarlet line trained on my heart.

  23

  “Drop your weapons,” the voice commanded from one of the chopper’s loudspeakers.

  “We’re here for protection.” I held up my right hand and the rifle, but kept the Glock low in my left.

  “You have five seconds to drop your weapons or we will fire.”

  Sha
dowed figures rappelled from the chopper. Soldiers clad in black swarmed around. Three more laser beams joined the one already trained on my chest. The four beams swirled together between my breasts in a space about the size of a quarter. Well, shit.

  I looked at Adam and Megan. Adam gave an almost indistinguishable nod. We laid our guns on the ground. A piece of my heart ripped apart when my hand left the Glock. These bastards were forcing me to give up the one constant in my life. At least I still had the knives and the extra guns in my bag.

  A tall, bald guy came toward us, a black wand in his one hand, and a pistol in the other. I scanned the skin of the others. No yellow anywhere. The man reached down and picked up my gun. My heart dropped into my stomach when he tucked the gun in a pocket of his black vest.

  Two other men stepped from the darkness and collected the rest of our weapons. The wand guy ran the device over Megan. Nothing happened.

  What was the device? A metal detector? He turned the wand to me. It went crazy with a combination of red lights and strange whirring noises.

  “Put down your bag,” he ordered.

  I didn’t want to give it up, but I had no choice. I set it next to my foot. He stepped in and kicked my bag to another guy who picked it up. When the short stocky man threw the bag onto his shoulder, the air rushed out of my lungs.

  The tall guy waved the wand over me again. It went nuts again. “Hold her.”

  Two large soldiers pinned my arms to my back and something metallic clamped over my hands. Handcuffs? What the hell?

  “Hold on. We came here for help. Now let her go.” Adam tried to sound fierce and I appreciated his effort. The tall dude laughed.

  “Shut up, boy.” He then brought the wand to Adam and it went berserk. “Guard him too.”

  Two more soldiers took hold of Adam and yanked his arms behind his back. A click clamped his hands like mine.

  “What are you doing?” Megan cried.

  “You, be quiet.” He aimed his gun at her and she snapped her mouth shut.

  One soldier tapped his ear and spoke into an unseen microphone. “Bring two of the birds down.”

  The wind kicked to tornado proportions and two choppers landed. Two men dragged Megan to the one on the right while the other soldiers pulled Adam and me toward the other one.

  “No. We stay together.” I ground my heels in and tried to stand firm, but the men were much stronger. “Let me go.” They hoisted me into the chopper, kicking and cursing.

  They dumped me into the back and shoved Adam into the seat next to me. Two of the soldiers climbed in front of us. One guy slapped headphones over our ears, then the helicopter lifted off.

  I tried to watch the chopper carrying Megan, but I lost track of it when our flying tin can merged with the other five helicopters.

  “Where are you taking us?” I yelled. No one answered my question.

  The helicopter bounced up and down and my stomach matched its movements. Who were these guys? They weren’t Raspers, but they weren’t good guys either. If they were, they wouldn’t treat survivors this way.

  The helicopter banked to the right and my stomach lurched toward my throat. I swallowed and wished I had the use of my hands.

  All these choppers took gas. Where did they get it? Site R? My head spun faster than the blades of the flying prison cell. Before we landed, I had to get my hands free. I couldn’t do a damn thing with my hands bound. I pulled and tugged at the bindings, but only managed to rip skin from my wrists.

  The helicopter bobbed and landed. One of the guys ripped the headphones from my head and shoved us out.

  Megan got out of her helicopter. “You okay?”

  “No talking,” one soldier said, waving his gun.

  Megan narrowed her eyes at the asshole, but kept her mouth shut.

  We had to get out of here. I glanced around. Lights from the aircraft lit the entire area. The spot we stood in was charred black, as if a fire had ripped through everything. A large—and that was an understatement—hole opened up in the blackened mountain. A massive door, big enough to drive a tank through, barred the entrance.

  Rocks surrounded the door, held back by a chain link fence. Beige cement blocks formed the rounded shape that cut into the mountain. From my vantage point, it looked like someone could stand on the ledge overlooking the entrance. A satellite dish, a hundred times the size of the one on my house, pointed at the sky from across the road. A little ways down, I spotted a rounded building, which looked like it might house vehicles. I half expected an army of armed SUVs to come zooming out.

  A panel sat inside the rock wall and a green light blinked from the right corner. Electricity. They had power here. What I wouldn’t do for a hot meal and shower. But I was pretty sure neither would be happening.

  The tallest soldier pushed a series of buttons on the electrical panel and sirens erupted around us. If my hands weren’t pinned behind my back, I would have covered my ears to shield them from the howling alarm. The massive door barring the tunnel opened with a clunk and a whoosh. The sirens stopped.

  Another soldier drove up in a black golf-cart-on-steroids. A smaller golf cart whizzed up behind the first.

  “Take her inside.” The guy in charge pointed at Megan.

  A soldier guided Megan to the smaller golf cart. “Get in.”

  “No, I’m staying with my friends.” Megan stomped her foot and crossed her arms.

  The soldier with the wand directed his gun at Megan again. “You’ll do as you’re told. Now go.”

  Megan caught my eye. I gave a small nod. If she didn’t go, I was sure they’d shoot her. She didn’t have a choice. She climbed in the front seat of the four-person cart and a soldier sat behind her. The driver hit the gas and they zipped away down the dark tunnel.

  “Take these two to the containment center.” Tall dude waved his wand at us.

  “What? No. I demand you release us, now.” I tried to rip my arms away from the soldiers holding me, but their grips were tight as iron shackles. So much for my extra strength. There was no way I was letting them take me to some containment center. “We came here for help. Not to be treated like criminals.”

  I brought up my foot and slammed my boot into the one soldier’s kneecap. He groaned and let go. The other one grabbed for my arm, but I spun too quickly for him. I tried to free my locked hands.

  “Val, no,” Adam yelled.

  I turned in time to see the soldier in charge hold a weird device up to my neck.

  Zzaapp.

  I woke with a fuzzy recollection of moving from the golf cart to a transport like the one we rode to get to Magic Kingdom at Disneyworld when I was younger. I remembered nothing after that. I couldn’t remember how I got to wherever it was they left me. I sat up and checked out my surroundings.

  I was wearing scrubs like doctors wore, but they were white and long sleeved. Zip ties shackled my wrists in front of me. They were stronger than the standard plastic ones, probably some military grade material. I pulled and twisted but the bindings held.

  The room gave off a sterile vibe. Medical type equipment I had no hope of identifying filled the glass-and-mirror walled room. I sat on a padded table draped with a white sheet. I jumped off and landed on the white tile floor. My socks slipped and I grabbed the table. Shoes. I needed shoes. Where was my bag? Where were my clothes? My knives? My guns? The bastards had taken everything.

  Then a chill slithered down my spine. Somebody had changed my clothes. A combination of fear and panic slammed into me. I yanked on the elastic waistband of the pants. Thank God. I still had my pink underwear. I released a long breath of air, brought my bound hands to my face, and tried to wipe away the tears. I dropped my head in my hands.

  This was a nightmare. It had to be. Adam’s safe house was a prison. Had he tricked me? What had they done with him, and what about Megan?

  I lifted my head and tried to wiggle my hands out of the plastic ties again. It still didn’t work, but when I shifted, I felt something on the insid
e of my left elbow. I shoved the sleeve back and saw a cotton ball taped down to my skin. They had either taken blood from me or given me a shot. This was so wrong.

  I sniffed, stood, and caught my reflection in the mirrored wall. Purple bags colored the skin under my eyes and my hair stuck out from its ponytail. I looked like a sleep-deprived, malnourished zombie. I turned away from the reflection and walked to the cell’s glass wall. The image I saw through the glass burned into my retinas.

  Adam lay on a white-sheeted table, dressed in the same scrubs as me. He had a tube running from his arm to a machine, sort of like an IV in a hospital.

  I brought my hands to the glass and lightly rapped my knuckles on it. Adam stirred, but didn’t get up. I banged a little harder. His head moved, but he appeared to be sound asleep—or drugged.

  I had to get my hands free. I dashed to the many drawers and cabinets lining the one wall next to the table. There had to be scissors in here somewhere. They did medical stuff in here.

  Nothing. No sharp object whatsoever. Just bandages and towels and sheets. I tugged on a large locked cabinet. It didn’t budge. Damn. That was probably where they kept the good stuff. I shoved a pile of expensive equipment onto the floor. The stuff hit the tile hard and shattered into pieces. I sank down on the floor and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head between them.

  How had everything gone so wrong? This was supposed to be a safe place, not a torture chamber. Everything kept getting worse and worse. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t survived. It would have been easier, but…I wanted to live. Just not like this. I wanted it like it used to be.

  My tears dried and a new resolve took their place. It was time to get the hell out of here. I jumped up and banged on the glass again. Adam didn’t respond.

  I moved to the mirrored wall, ignored my hideous reflection, and slammed my palms on the mirror. “Let me out of here. You have no right to treat us this way.” I pounded again, this time with my knuckles. “I want out of here.” I banged until my fingers were red and bloody. Still no one answered.

  My throat closed when I thought of myself trapped in a glass cell. Like the Bug. God, did they think I was a Rasper? They could just listen to my breathing to know for sure. Or look at my skin. The resolve I had moments ago disappeared. I slid down the wall and curled into a ball on the floor. Minutes—maybe even hours—passed.