Colony B Box Set

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Colony B Box Set Page 23

by Michael Campling


  For a moment, Lee’s lips moved soundlessly, then he looked up at Mac. “But, she could’ve died. I don’t understand.”

  “Inside would be better,” Mac stated, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. “We don’t want everyone to know, do we?”

  “No, of course not.” Lee moved back, opening the door wider. “Come in. I need to know. I need to know exactly what happened.”

  “And so you shall,” Mac said, stepping inside. “So you shall.” He looked around the kitchen. “Any chance of a cup of tea? I’ve a terrible thirst with all this talking.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned his back on Lee and closed the door firmly, smiling to himself. This was going to be easy.

  “Maybe later,” Lee said. “You were going to tell me about Emma. And the wall.”

  Mac turned around slowly, admiring the small room. “You’ve made it very nice in here, I must say. Very cozy. And you’ve got an upstairs too—that must be handy. Mind you, I don’t have the need.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? We’re supposed to be—”

  “Tea,” Mac interrupted. “And throw a few dried berries in there if you don’t mind. I like it sweet.” He pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the surface. He gave Lee a smile. “You get it started, and then we’ll talk, all right?”

  “Right,” Lee said. He frowned, but he went to the counter and poured water from a metal jug, filling a small pan. “I’ll have to get the fire going again. It’ll be a while.”

  “Fine,” Mac said. “And while you do that, you can tell me something—how long has young Emma been hanging around with that troublemaker Siobhan Davey?”

  Lee put the water jug down heavily on the counter. “Oh. I see what you’re getting at.”

  “I think you do,” Mac agreed. “I really think you do.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Truck Two

  Connor scraped his hands down his face, then he looked up and met Siobhan’s gaze. She sat across the table from him, the dim light of the truck’s interior emphasizing the frown lines on her forehead. But even in this gloom, her eyes were glittering and full of hope: pleading without words. But there was only one thing Connor could say, and in the circumstances, only one answer a father could give his daughter. “No, Siobhan. I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.”

  Siobhan slammed the metal table with her fist. “You can’t say that, Dad! You cannot be serious. We have to stop them.”

  Connor sat back, weathering the storm, his expression as neutral as he could make it. “We’ve been through this, Shiv. I don’t like what those people are doing to the planet any more than you do, and I agree that it has to be stopped, but—”

  “But you don’t trust me to help,” Siobhan interrupted. “I’m not old enough, or strong enough, is that it?” She flung her arms wide in exasperation. “Then how come I was the one who took control of this truck? How come I got the better of the whole bunch of them and escaped?”

  “By the skin of your teeth,” Connor said. “You could’ve been killed.”

  “I’m not stupid, Dad. I made it this far, didn’t I?”

  Connor pursed his lips. He should keep his mouth shut and let Siobhan blow off steam for a while. Give her some time to calm down, he told himself. But it probably wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference. She was too much like him; she wouldn’t let up until she got the answer she wanted. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “And what about Milo? Don’t you think we ought to be taking him home? He’s got a head injury, Siobhan. He could be seriously hurt.”

  Siobhan sat back suddenly as though she’d been slapped across the face. “That wasn’t my fault, dad. You know it wasn’t.” She looked away for a moment, her eyes going to the front of the truck’s compartment. “Maybe somebody could use your vehicle and take him home.”

  “Yes,” Connor said quickly, “but only if you go along with them.” Siobhan bridled, but Connor didn’t give her the chance to speak. “Your mother is waiting at home for you, and your little brother too. They must be worried sick by now.”

  Siobhan stared down at the table, her eyes glistening, and when she spoke, her voice was low but edged with determination. “And that’s why we have to do this, Dad. Don’t you get it? We have to do this for Mom and Calum and everybody else up on the hill. We have to stop what’s happening to this planet, or there’ll be no future for any of us here. We’ll be finished.”

  Connor sighed. “I felt like that too, Siobhan. I really did. When I saw there was still life out here, and I realized they were it wiping out, I was angry.”

  “Good.” Siobhan looked up. “We should be angry, Dad. But then we should go and do something about it.”

  “I agree. But what about the rescue plan? You said that this guy you’ve got locked up in his cabin, Alex or whatever his name is, you said he’d sent a message to organize a rescue mission.”

  “Alec,” Siobhan corrected him. “But I don’t know if he was telling the truth, and even if he was, a mission will take years to get here. We could all be dead by then.”

  “We can hold on for a few years. The wall will keep us safe.”

  “Will it?” Siobhan shook her head. “I’ve seen how fast these trucks move. They’re spreading the grunge over the entire planet, and they won’t stop for anyone or anything. They didn’t even chase after us when we took the truck. They don’t care about anything except their goddamned plan to turn this place into some kind of fuel dump.” She held out her hands, her palms open. “They’re killing everything, Dad. Every living thing. Do you really think they care about a few people up on a hill? We’re a glitch to them, a blip in their production schedule.”

  “But the Galactic Resettlement Corps–”

  “Dad!” Siobhan blurted. “Who do you think these people are working for? The GRC set this whole thing up.”

  Connor blinked. “They told you that?”

  “As good as. Alec told us that the fuel is for resettling this part of the galaxy. For all we know, the GRC might have known exactly where we were, but they just didn’t care. They couldn’t let us stand in the way of their plans. They’ll strip this planet of every living thing and squeeze every last drop of fuel from it, then they’ll move on without a backward glance and do the same somewhere else.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Connor said. “That’s a pretty big stretch.”

  “Is it?” Siobhan demanded. “Isn’t that what people have always done?”

  Connor stared at his daughter. Where did she get such passion, such commitment? How did she manage to summon up the unassailable conviction that she was right? He let out a heavy sigh. Soon, he’d have to make a final decision one way or the other. And there was a good chance, whatever he said, he was going to regret it.

  Somewhere near the front of the truck, a door opened and closed again, and Connor turned to see Sue Hodgeson standing at the edge of the compartment. He’d met her when he’d come aboard the truck, and she’d seemed okay, but he hadn’t figured out where she stood in all this. Now, he watched her carefully, waiting to see what she had to say. She was fidgeting, her hands clasped in front of her stomach, but perhaps, after everything that had happened, her nervousness was understandable. He gave her a reassuring smile. “Everything all right, Sue?”

  “Yes,” Sue replied, then she hesitated. “If you don’t mind, I was just thinking about heading into the galley and fixing us something to eat.” She glanced to one side, then she stood a little taller as if summoning her courage. “And I really think we should let Alec out of that cabin. He’s been locked in there long enough, and it’s not as if he’s going to do anyone any harm. Whatever you may think, he’s not…he’s not a bad man.”

  Connor nodded slowly. “Sue, you don’t need my permission for anything. I haven’t come here to take anything from you. All I care about is getting my daughter safely home, and I’m grateful to you for taking care of her. So please, go ahead and make some food if that’s what y
ou want.”

  “Thanks.” Sue took a few steps into the compartment then stopped. “And what about Alec? Would you object to me letting him out?”

  “That depends,” Connor said. “Would you object to me bringing the rest of my crew over? We’ve all got some decisions to make, and I’d like everyone to sit down together if that’s okay.”

  “Of course,” Sue replied. “I’ll make them something to eat. Did you say there were three of them?”

  “That’s right. Thank you, Sue, some food would be most welcome.”

  Sue gave him a strained smile then hurried through the compartment and disappeared through a narrow metal door at the far end.

  Connor stood, then he turned to his daughter. “We’ll talk about this some more, but first, I have to get everyone over here. I’ll try my intercom and see if I can get through to the rover.”

  “Okay,” Siobhan said, “but you know I’m right.”

  “I don’t doubt your instincts for a second, but there’s more to this than you realize.” He looked Siobhan in the eye. “So far, only Milo has been hurt, but if we get this wrong, people will die. People like you and me. Are you ready for that, Siobhan? Are you ready to take on that responsibility?”

  He expected Siobhan to back down and change her mind, but when he saw the look in her eyes, he knew he’d misjudged her. “Honestly?” she said. “Yes, I am. It doesn’t even feel like a choice.”

  Connor held eye contact with her for a moment, then he walked across the compartment to retrieve his helmet. “I’ll call the rover, but I’m not promising anything, Siobhan. I want to hear what Parry and the others have to say.” He picked up his helmet and activated the intercom, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say. He could rely on Parry to be on his side, and with any luck, Cate and Ben would back him up. Between them, they could probably convince Siobhan to go back to the settlement. But when he glanced back at her, she was sitting very still and staring into space, her mouth set in a grim line. Whatever happened next, he was going to have a fight on his hands.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Hill

  Calum jabbed at the stony soil with his improvised spade, forcing the flattened metal blade into the unforgiving ground. He levered up a hunk of soil then lifted his spade and brought the blade down hard, splitting the dry clod in two. He repeated the process, lost in the rhythm of his work, battering the gravelly soil into submission. He’d been working in the small garden at the front of the house for most of the morning, but with little to show for it. He’d woken early and wasted an hour staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet sounds of the almost empty house. He’d strained his ears, hoping against hope to hear the sound of his dad’s heavy footsteps on the path, or perhaps the gentle murmur of Siobhan’s voice downstairs, but all he’d heard was the creak of the stairs as his mom, Helen, had crept downstairs and then back up again a few minutes later. Perhaps she’d made herself a drink and gone back to bed. She’d probably had a sleepless night, and a twinge of guilt had stirred in the back of Calum’s mind; he’d slept like a log, and somehow that hadn’t seemed right.

  Eventually, he’d dragged himself out of bed and crept downstairs to make himself some breakfast, then he’d headed up the hill to check on the crows. There’d been no eggs to collect, so he’d stopped off in the garden on the way back to snack on a handful of berries. He’d been there ever since, working his heart out. Why not? There was nothing else to do.

  He paused and rubbed his palms together. His hands were used to hard work, but even so, his skin was raw where the spade’s rough wooden handle chafed his skin. He should’ve smoothed the wood before he’d started. Even now, he could stop work and fetch his knife to scrape the handle down, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not yet. Just a little longer, he told himself. We’ll have a bigger patch for the vines, and next year we’ll have more berries. He thrust the spade back into the ground and pressed it home with his foot, digging deeper, then he looked up with a start. Mom! She was calling his name. Perhaps there’d been news of his dad and Siobhan. He dropped his spade and ran back to the house, yanking the door open and dashing inside. His mom was standing in the kitchen, peering out through the small window, and the sad stillness of the way she stood made his heart lurch in his chest. “What is it, Mom? What’s happened?”

  She shook her head and gave him a strained smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. There’s been no news. It’s nothing like that. I just wanted to know where you were.”

  Calum’s shoulders slumped. “Mom, I was in the garden. Couldn’t you see me from the window?”

  “Sorry. I guess I wasn’t looking properly. I just…” She let her voice trail away, then she clapped her hands together as if coming to a decision. “I think we should make something nice for when Siobhan and Dad come back, don’t you? I’ve got some dried berries I’ve been holding back, I’m sure I could make something with them. How about a cake?”

  Calum shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Will it keep? We don’t know when they’ll get back.”

  Helen waved his objections aside. “A fruitcake then. It’ll be fine. I just need some more eggs. Could you go up to the crows for me?”

  “I guess. But I already checked them this morning, and I’m kind of busy in the garden.”

  Helen folded her arms and gave him a stern look. “It won’t take you a minute, Calum. It’s not far, and I’ve got enough to do. I’m guessing you’d rather fetch eggs than stand in the kitchen grinding roots for flour.”

  “All right.” Calum rubbed some of the dirt from his hands. “I’ll be right back.” He gave his mom a smile and headed out, making for the slope at the back of the house where the crows scratched and scraped out an existence in their pen. He walked briskly up the path, anxious to get back to his work in the berry patch, and the thought of a cake spurred him on. He hadn’t had cake for months, maybe not since midwinter’s day, when everyone had gathered in the big tent and shared the best food they could scrape together. Feels an awful long time ago, he thought, and his mind went back to the settlement’s most recent celebration: the time when Siobhan had first gone missing and the mysterious travelers had arrived in their trucks. He pictured his father’s grim face when he’d broken up the party, and remembered the unsettling moment the next morning when he’d realized his dad was wearing a gun.

  What would he be doing now? Would he really be able to track the intruders down? And if he did, how could he hope to rescue Siobhan?

  Calum bit his bottom lip. He’ll be all right, he told himself. He’s sure to be all right.

  “Hey, Cal. Hold on.”

  Calum lifted his gaze and looked across the slope. Alan, his best friend, was cutting across the rough ground toward him, and Calum gave him a wave and called, “Hurry up then. I haven’t got all day.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Alan shouted back dismissively, but he broke into a jog, running lightly over the rocks with an easy agility. Calum stuffed his hands into his pockets and waited, shuffling his feet on the stony ground. Come on, he thought. I’ve got things to do.

  Alan slowed down as he neared Calum, giving his friend an appraising look. “You okay, Cal? You look like I’d feel if I was you.”

  Calum gave his friend a smile. “I was just thinking the same thing about you,” he shot back. “But I wouldn’t say that if I was you.”

  Alan laughed and punched Calum’s arm. “Man, I don’t know what’s worse, the crazy way we talk or the fact that I actually understand it.”

  “Go figure,” Calum replied. “I guess a person can get used to pretty much anything, eventually.”

  “Yeah.” Alan sniffed. “So, what are you doing anyway?”

  “Not much. I’ve got to collect some eggs, then I was going to finish working the soil in the berry patch.” He gave Alan a hopeful look. “You can help if you’d like.”

  Alan grimaced. “Yeah, but no thanks. I mean, it does sound like a fun-filled adventure and all, but I’ll give it a miss.”


  “Thanks a bunch. I’ll do the same for you one day.” Calum made as if to head up the slope, but Alan grabbed his arm.

  “Listen, Cal, there’s no need to be like that.” Alan looked rapidly from side to side then fixed his gaze on Calum. “I came up here to tell you something.”

  Calum glanced down to where Alan was gripping his sleeve tightly, then he studied his friend’s expression. This was something serious. “What is it? Has there been some news?”

  “No. Sorry, Cal, but that’s not it. It’s Mac. He’s going around stirring up trouble.”

  Calum snorted and pushed Alan’s arm away. “So what? Mac’s always been an asshole. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Listen. This is different. It’s like he’s really up to something. He’s going around to people’s houses, knocking on doors. He came around last night and talked to my dad. He’s telling everybody Siobhan brought all this trouble on herself. He says she signaled to those people to take her away, so your dad is wasting his time going after her.”

  “That’s just stupid,” Calum said. “No one’s going to believe that. She didn’t know anyone was out there—how could she?”

  “Yeah, but there’s something else.” Alan hesitated. “Mac said there was a rover hidden away, supposed to be only for emergencies, but your dad stole it to go and find Siobhan even though she ran away on purpose.”

  Calum felt the blood rise to his cheeks. A surge of anger rose up inside him, and he clenched his fists. But he couldn’t explain it to Alan; he wouldn’t understand.

  “What?” Alan demanded. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Calum shook his head.

  “Don’t be dumb. I know you’re holding out on me. You may as well spit it out.”

  “All right,” Calum said. “It’s true what you said, about the rover.”

  “Oh my God! Seriously?”

  “But they didn’t steal it,” Calum said quickly. “The council said they could take it. It was the only way my dad could find Siobhan. He had no choice.”

 

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