Colony B Box Set

by Michael Campling

  “Go!” Parry yelled, tugging the door open. He darted inside, shouting, “Nobody move!”

  Connor dashed through the door, his gun ready, but Parry was already running through the truck’s compartment, training his weapon from side to side, searching for any sign of an opponent. Connor sprinted to catch up, and he heard Cate and Ben hurrying to join him, but a growing sense of unease was uncoiling from the pit of his stomach. The one thing they hadn’t anticipated was that the compartment might be empty.

  They must be in the cockpit, Connor told himself. The grunge must’ve leaked inside the truck, so they’re sheltering in the cockpit.

  Parry reached the mouth of the narrow corridor that led to the front of the truck, then he threw himself against the wall on the left and aimed his weapon into the corridor.

  Connor took the opposite side and did the same. “Cockpit or cabins?”

  “We’ll go room by room,” Parry replied. “Ben, Cate, cover the corridor. Connor, we’ll start on the left. Open a door and I’ll go inside.”

  “Got it.” Connor moved into position by the first cabin on the left and pulled the door open. Parry dashed inside, but before Connor could join him, Parry shouted, “Clear!” and emerged from the room. “Take the one opposite.”

  They repeated the process, and once again there was no sign of life, only empty bunks and a few scattered clothes on the untidy beds.

  “Pilot’s cabin next,” Parry said. “Teare could be in there.”

  But Connor hesitated. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  Connor tilted his head, tuning in to the hum of a distant sound. He knew that sound. He recognized its rumbling roar, but his mind would not accept it. He had to be wrong. His ears were playing tricks on him. But the noise grew rapidly louder, and the blood drained from his face. “Oh my God!” he whispered. He stared at Parry and saw that his friend understood. Because now there was no doubt. The sound from outside was the roar of engines mingling with the crackling buzz of hover panels. Another truck was on its way.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Hill

  Standing in his kitchen, Mac tilted his head back and drained the last drops of groundweed beer from the jug. The dregs of bitter sediment coated his tongue and burnt the back of his throat, but he swallowed them down, smacking his lips together to make sure he didn’t miss a single drop. He stared ruefully at the empty jug, then he put it back on the kitchen table and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Not a bad batch,” he mumbled. “More in the cellar. Might as well bring up another jug. Must be ready by now.”

  He crossed to the counter and sifted through the clutter, a frown creasing his brow. “Goddamned flashlight! Put it here, somewhere. Know I did.” He stared for a moment, swaying back on his heels, recalling the last time he’d been down in the cellar. Last night, he remembered. I checked the supplies, ran through the inventory, then came back up. He could even remember attaching his flashlight to the charger; he was always scrupulous in keeping his electrical gear fully charged. He’d checked the flashlight’s power level that very morning, and he hadn’t touched it since. But now that he thought about it, he’d been plagued by a headache all day, and there was a chance he’d got the order of things muddled.

  Mac shrugged. He knew his own cellar like the back of his hand; he’d been down there in the gloom often enough. He could put his hand on that jug of beer, flashlight or no flashlight. He grunted under his breath and kicked the rug aside, then he bent down to take hold of the trapdoor. His fingers found the edge, but the second he started to lift, someone hammered on his front door.

  “What now?” He let go of the trapdoor and straightened his back, but he didn’t bother replacing the rug. Whoever the caller was, Mac was not about to let anyone in.

  The pounding on his door started up again, even more frantic than before. “All right! All right!” he groaned. “I’m coming for God’s sake.” Mac shambled over to the door and opened it a crack, narrowing his eyes against the light. He vaguely knew the young woman standing alone on his garden path though he wasn’t quite sure of her name. She seemed nervous, her hands clenching and opening repeatedly, but her dark eyes were wide open and moist with worry. Mac had suffered plenty of pranksters knocking on his door over the years, but this girl looked as though she was in earnest.

  Mac opened the door a little wider. “Erin, isn’t it? Matt Pierdew’s daughter.”

  The young woman nodded vigorously. “That’s right, sir.” She gave him a shy smile and Mac opened the door fully and stood a little taller.

  “So, Erin, what’s the trouble? What can I do for you?”

  Erin blinked as though holding back tears. “Please, you’ve got to come and help. It’s my dad. He says there’s trouble. He needs you to help him.”

  Mac scratched at his beard. “Trouble with the council?”

  “I think so, yes. He didn’t tell me what was wrong. He just said he needed you. He said it was important. Real important.” She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him.

  Mac hesitated, but the young woman sniffed back a tear and said, “Please, can you come right away?”

  “Sure I can.” Mac offered her a reassuring smile. “Never let it be said that Joe McIntyre stood by while others needed help.” He stepped outside and closed his front door. “Lead the way, young lady, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Erin said, and she started down the path, setting a brisk pace.

  Mac followed, turning over a few thoughts in his mind. Matt Pierdew hadn’t always been on the council, but he was popular with just about everybody in the settlement. He was a good speaker, and when he talked, people listened. He could be a useful ally over the coming days. Very useful indeed.

  ***

  Calum waited behind the garden wall until Mac and Erin were far enough away, then he went straight to Mac’s front door and let himself in. He thought about leaving the door open for a fast getaway, but if Mac came back too soon, he’d be alerted straight away. Calum closed the door gently, and that was when he saw that the rug had been removed from the trapdoor. A chill struck him to the core. Was he too late? Had Mac discovered Alan and dealt with him already?

  I was only a few minutes, Calum thought. Mac can’t have been down there and climbed back up—he hasn’t had time. But a roiling ball of fear squirmed in Calum’s stomach. He should never have left his friend behind. He should’ve stayed and faced down Mac, taking him on to buy Alan enough time to climb out. Together, they could’ve beaten Mac easily.

  Calum clenched his jaw and pushed his regrets aside. He had a job to do, and time was short. He crossed the room and tapped on the trapdoor. “Alan, don’t worry,” he called out. “It’s me, Calum. It’s okay.” He pulled the door open and set it aside, peering anxiously into the dark cellar. What would he see? An image of his friend bound and gagged flashed into his mind, but not for long. In the darkness, a flashlight flared into life, and Alan stepped toward the ladder, his pale face ghostly in the flashlight’s blue-tinged glow.

  Calum exhaled loudly. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” Alan blinked, then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Mac there? If he’s forcing you to do this, just nod.”

  “There’s no one here except us. It’s fine. Just come on up and let’s get out of here, all right?”

  Alan grinned and straightened his clothes, then he climbed the ladder, his smile growing wider when he pulled himself up into Mac’s kitchen and stood at Calum’s side. “What happened? Why did Mac go?”

  Calum returned his friend’s smile. “I got Erin to call him away. She did a damned good job.”

  “Cool.” Alan let out a nervous chuckle. “For a second back there, I thought he was coming down. I was getting ready to let him have it.”

  “What?”

  Alan put the flashlight down on the counter then reached behind his back and pulled something from his waistband, smiling as he brought his hand back around and opened his f
ingers.

  “Oh my God!” Calum breathed. “A sonic pistol. Where the hell did you get that?”

  “This is nothing. There’s a whole crate of them. Rifles too.” He returned the weapon to his waistband then nodded toward the front door. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.”

  “Yeah,” Calum murmured. “Sure. I’ll check the coast is clear.” He went to the front door and opened it a little, peeping out and moving from side to side to check in all directions. “It’s all fine. Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute. I’ve got to put the trapdoor back.”

  “Sure,” Calum said, keeping his eye on the view outside. “Be quick.”

  “Done.” Alan joined him. “Still clear?”

  Calum nodded. “We’ll just walk away. We’ll head up the ridge toward the tower and then take the long way back to my house, okay? I don’t want to run into Mac anytime soon.”

  “Got it. Lead the way.”

  Calum slipped outside then waited for Alan to come out and close the door. They walked side by side, moving quickly and heading away from the settlement, making their way onto the higher ground.

  “You won’t believe what Mac’s got down there,” Alan said. “It’s crazy. Suits, guns, food, water. Crates stacked high, and all full.”

  “He must be getting ready for something pretty bad. Does he know something we don’t?”

  “I have no idea, but he’s got a lot of gear down there—more than he could ever need. By the way, I put the rug back. We almost forgot.”

  Calum stopped walking and grabbed hold of Alan’s arm, bringing him to a halt. “You did what?”

  Alan shrugged himself free from Calum’s grip. “I put the rug back, while you were checking outside. We don’t want Mac to get suspicious.”

  “You idiot!” Calum groaned. “The rug was just dumped to one side when I came to get you. Mac must’ve left it that way, so now he’ll know someone’s been there.”

  “Oh shit!”

  “Exactly.” Calum heaved a sigh. “We can’t do anything about it now. We can’t risk going back. Erin said she’d keep him out the way for as long as she could, but Mac isn’t stupid. He’ll realize she’s lying, then he’ll head back home. He could be on his way already.”

  “Maybe he won’t notice. He’s probably drunk. God knows he’s got enough beer stashed away in that cellar.”

  “Figures.” Calum looked over at the settlement. “Who shall we tell about this? What the hell are we going to do?”

  “I’m not sure,” Alan replied, “but I’ll tell you one thing—Mac’s got enough suits and guns in that cellar for a whole gang, so I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’d bet anything he’s fixing for a fight. And with all that firepower, I don’t know who can stop him.”

  Calum held his friend’s gaze. “That settles it. We’ll go straight to the patrol team. We’ll show them that pistol. They’ll have to listen to us. They’ll stop him.”

  “They’ll try.” Alan looked Calum in the eye for a moment. “Man, I hate to say this, but I wish your dad was here.”

  “Me too,” Calum said. “Me too.”

  ***

  Mac stormed into his kitchen, slamming his front door shut behind him. “Bitch!” he snarled to the empty room. “Wasting my goddamned time!”

  He ran his hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp with his fingernails. And then he froze. Slowly, he walked over to the counter. There, standing apart from the clutter, was his flashlight. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It definitely hadn’t been there before. Someone must’ve moved it. He looked down at the rug arranged neatly over his trapdoor. Had he left it like that? He racked his brain, piecing together the sequence of events. He’d been about to go down to the cellar when that damned girl had come knocking on his door. He’d moved the rug aside, definitely, but he hadn’t bothered to put it back. He was certain.

  “Goddammit,” he whispered. “Someone was in here.” He hurried through to his bedroom and kneeled down to pull a small plastic box from under the bed. He stayed kneeling while he ripped the top from the box and examined its contents carefully. Just as he expected, the handheld comms unit was fully charged, and he took out the molded earpiece and fitted it to his ear before taking up the unit and flipping a switch to open a channel. “This is Matrix One, who’s on duty?”

  The reply came through immediately. A man’s voice: “Matrix Two here. What can I do for you?”

  Good, Mac thought. Matrix Two was the call-sign of Rob, his second in command, and he would know exactly what each member of the team had been doing. “Just checking on something. Have you or anyone else been over to my house while I was out?”

  “No, sir. I was there earlier, making a delivery with Matrix Four, but you were there. We talked.”

  “Sure. But after that? Nobody stopped by for any reason?”

  A pause, then: “I don’t know for sure, but I’d be damned surprised if they had. Everyone’s under strict orders to stay away from your place unless it’s absolutely necessary. If I find someone’s been disobeying orders, I’ll—”

  “Never mind,” Mac interrupted. “We’ve got a situation here. Looks like someone’s been nosing around.”

  “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but it’s time for us to seize the initiative.”

  “What do you need, my friend? Just say the word.”

  Mac smiled. “Have everyone meet at my house. The quicker the better. I want everyone properly equipped and ready for action.”

  “Copy that, Matrix One. We’ll be there and ready to rock.”

  “Good. Matrix One, out.”

  Mac closed the channel, then he stood, squaring his shoulders. He clipped the comms unit to his belt then went through to the kitchen and rolled back the rug. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore. The time for subterfuge was over. No more creeping about, he told himself. No more sucking up to the likes of Connor and his goddamned cronies. He grinned. Whoever had been snooping around his house had done him a favor. Yes, the situation had forced his hand, but that was of no consequence. Truth be told, he’d been putting this day off for a while, biding his time and making doubly sure that everything was in place. But deep in his heart, he knew that he was ready. And with Connor and Parry out of the way, there’d never be a better opportunity. “This is my time,” he murmured. “God knows I deserve it. And nobody, nobody, is going to stand in my way.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Truck One

  Connor froze, panic flooding his mind, but Parry grabbed his arm, shaking him out of his daze.

  “Cockpit!” Parry shouted. “Now!”

  They ran to the cockpit door together, but when Connor grabbed the handle, it wouldn’t turn under his hand. “Locked!” he hissed and yanked the handle with all his strength. It was no use; the door was solid steel and reinforced with sturdy metal strips around its edges.

  “Cate,” Parry called. “We need you up here.”

  Connor stood back to let Cate past, then he watched in silence while she examined the door. He took a deep, steadying breath, but he couldn’t ignore the rumble of engines filtering into the main compartment. There had to be at least two hover trucks outside, and judging by the sound, they were growing nearer by the second.

  “Come on, Cate,” Parry urged. “We need to get into that cockpit.”

  But Cate shook her head. “It’s locked from inside, and there’s no access to the mechanism from out here. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “Change of plan,” Connor said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Bullshit!” Parry snapped, pushing Cate aside. He adjusted his stance and unleashed a kick at the door. The boom reverberated through the narrow corridor, but the door didn’t budge. Parry kicked again and again until Connor put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and said, “Leave it. We’ve been played. The whole goddamned fleet is probably out there already. We have to get out now while we still can.”

  “Goddammit,” Parry breathe
d. “We were so close. But you’re right. We’re like rats in a trap if we stay here. Let’s go.”

  The three of them hurried along the corridor as fast as they could, their suits and weapons hampering their progress in the confines of the narrow walkway, then they headed back through the main compartment, picking up Ben as they went.

  “Move! Move! Move!” Parry yelled.

  Connor half expected to be met by suited intruders storming the truck, but they made it to the decontamination chamber without any problems and crammed themselves into the small space. Parry closed the inner door behind them and shouted, “Weapons ready! Go out shooting!”

  As if in response, from somewhere outside, the sharp crack of a plasma bolt rang out.

  Milo! Connor thought, and he lunged for the outer door, pushing it open and raising his weapon. In front of him, Alec and Milo were struggling over the plasma rifle while Thaddeus and Sue stood back, looking on in horror. Connor dashed outside, taking care to point his weapon to the side, then he charged into the pair, grabbing hold of Alec’s arm and pulling him away from Milo.

  Alec let go of the rifle and turned fast, lashing out with his right hand, driving his fist into Connor’s stomach. Connor exhaled sharply, the blow driving the breath from his lungs, but his thick suit had given him some protection, and he recovered quickly. When Alec followed up with a right jab aimed at Connor’s throat, Connor caught the younger man’s hand and forced it downward, twisting his grip to wrench Alec’s wrist.

  Alec grunted and kicked out at Connor’s shins as if trying to sweep his legs from under him, but Connor jumped back, releasing Alec and saving himself. He raised his rifle, but before he could train it on his opponent, Alec darted toward him, arms outstretched. Connor’s finger tightened on the trigger, but someone barreled into Alec, taking him down and landing on top of him. Parry! Connor realized. Thank God.

  Connor drew a steadying breath. Parry had Alec pinned to the ground, and though Alec was struggling hard, Parry knew what he was doing. Alec was going nowhere, and Parry was in no immediate danger, so long as he hadn’t damaged his suit in the tussle.