Colony B Box Set

by Michael Campling

  Alan raised his eyebrows. “I reckon he’d give you something to think about.”

  They shared a wry chuckle but broke off their laughter when Phoebe approached, her gaze cold as stone. “What’s funny?” she demanded. “You think this is some kind of game?”

  “No, ma’am,” Alan replied. “We were just talking.”

  “Sorry,” Calum added. “Are we moving out?”

  “Once it gets dark I’ll take a team into the settlement,” Phoebe said, “but you’ll stay here with everyone else. If Mac’s people come your way, you’ll fall back, but you must all stay together. You can use the pistols to buy yourself some time, but don’t go looking for trouble. Is that clear?”

  “Can we turn the power back up?” Alan asked.

  Phoebe hesitated. “If you have to, take it up a couple of levels, but don’t use them close up, and don’t aim at anyone’s head.”

  “Yeah, you told us,” Alan said. “We’ll be careful.”

  “Look after each other. Keep out of harm’s way.” Phoebe patted each of them on the arm in turn. “Listen, we’ll be back before you know it. And if everything goes okay, we’ll have some good news.”

  “Good luck,” Alan said, but Calum just gave Phoebe a strained smile then watched her walk away. And if it doesn’t go okay? He wondered. What then?

  ***

  Mac paced the length of the big tent, his hands behind his back, then he turned and retraced his steps. For a minute, he stood and watched Sarah while she, in turn, was occupied in supervising the allocation of gear and rations. Everything was going well, as far as he knew, but there was a problem gnawing at his guts. Where the hell are they? he wondered. What the hell is taking them so long?

  He called out to Sarah, “You haven’t heard from Rob, have you? Any news at all?”

  Sarah didn’t look up from the inventory she was studying. “No, but I’m not surprised. The comms can get flaky at that kind of range.”

  “Nonsense,” Mac snapped. “When he reported in, he was almost at the lookout.”

  “I didn’t say the comms don’t work, they’re just unreliable, that’s all.” She looked up at him. “You want me to take a couple of guys and see what’s up?”

  Mac pursed his lips and looked beyond Sarah, scanning the square and judging the length of the shadows. “No. It’ll be dark soon. I don’t want to lose anyone else.” He scratched at his tangled beard. “Rob’s probably tracking them down. He might camp out overnight, but he knows the hill. He’ll be all right.”

  “And how about you?” Sarah asked, her eyebrows arched.

  “What?”

  “I haven’t seen you eat a thing, and you certainly haven’t taken a break.”

  “I don’t have the time.” He waved her concerns aside, but Sarah maintained her steady gaze.

  Mac sniffed. “I’ll fix myself something later.”

  “All right,” Sarah said, then she pushed her inventory to one side. “This is done. It’s all present and correct.” She crossed the space and stood close to Mac. “I’m on watch at dawn, so I’m heading home for a while. I’ve got a pot of crow stew I made yesterday. Plenty for two.”

  “Right.” Mac searched her expression. Was she really inviting him to dinner? Sarah lived alone, but she’d always seemed entirely self-contained. He’d certainly never dreamed that she might look twice at him.

  “You have to eat,” Sarah insisted. “We need you to stay strong if we’re to carry this thing through.”

  So that’s the reason, Mac thought. A practical arrangement. Even so, Sarah was an attractive woman, and a home-cooked meal in her company would be very welcome. Very welcome indeed. He cleared his throat. “I guess you’re right. Who’s taking the night watch?”

  “Rick and Aaron. They can handle it. We’re not expecting trouble, but if anything happens, they’ll know where to find us. My house is close by.”

  “Fair enough.” Mac ran his hands over the front of his old jacket, smoothing the creases. “I’ll just make a call, then I’ll be delighted to join you. Thank you.”

  Sarah smiled. “Good. I’ll wait for you in the square.”

  Mac stood in silence for a second, looking from side to side like a man getting his bearings, then he adjusted his comms unit and made an all stations broadcast. It was vital that his Matrix operators knew where he was at all times.

  ***

  Phoebe held up her hand, and beside her, crouched near the edge of the fern bank, John and Tessa froze. “Did you get that?” she whispered.

  John nodded. “Mac’s taking off for a while. Could be an ideal opportunity.”

  “Agreed,” Tessa put in. “But who the hell is Matrix Three?”

  Phoebe frowned, but before she could say anything another voice sounded in her earpiece:

  “All units, this is Matrix Three handing over the watch. Matrix Five and Matrix Seven are your watch commanders. Matrix Three signing off.”

  “I know that voice,” Tessa hissed. “That’s Sarah. She always was a piece of work.”

  Phoebe gave Tessa a sharp look. “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. Her house is right across the hill though. Over by the scree slope.”

  “I know where you mean,” John said. “We could drop down and skirt around the hill, then climb up and take Mac from there.”

  “No,” Phoebe said. “That will take far too long. He might be gone by the time we get there.”

  John let out a disapproving grunt. “We can’t go through the middle of the settlement. We’ve all heard the patrols checking in.”

  “So we know where they are,” Tessa said. “We’ll wait until it gets darker, then as soon as the patrol is out the way, we’ll move fast. We’ll hit Sarah’s house in minutes.”

  Phoebe hesitated. “Okay, but, Tessa, I want you to take point.”

  “Sure. I’m not as fast as I was, but I’ll get you there.”

  John looked as though something was troubling him, but he managed a grim smile, and for Phoebe, that was enough.

  ***

  Mac put down his spoon and licked his lips. “Thank you, Sarah. That was a wonderful meal.”

  Sarah smiled, and there was something in the way the soft light from the fire glittered in her eyes; something that stirred Mac’s soul. “Would you like some more? There’s a little left.”

  “Well, I don’t know,” Mac mumbled, then he returned her smile. “Just a spoonful perhaps.” He pushed his bowl across the table. “It would be a terrible shame to let such a fine stew go uneaten.”

  Sarah took up the spoon and scraped up the last of the stew. “You know, I’m getting tired. After this, I think I’ll go to bed.”

  Mac’s smile froze. “Oh, I didn’t realize I was keeping you up. Apologies. I’ll be on my way home then.”

  “If you like,” Sarah said, then she fixed him with a look. “But there’s no need for you to go anywhere.”

  Mac laid his hands on the table’s edge and gripped it tight. He swallowed hard and tried to find the right thing to say, but his usual fluency had abandoned him.

  Sarah stood. “You know what? I just remembered—I’ve got some berry wine somewhere. I’ll go and find it. After all, we’ve something to celebrate tonight.”

  “Yes,” Mac managed to say. “That would be perfect. Just perfect.”

  ***

  Phoebe ran. Ahead of her, Tessa and John were disappearing into the darkness, dashing across open ground, heading for a hiding place in the lee of a tall house. Connor’s house, she realized, and the thought conjured up a painful image of her own little Connor: her young son. When Phoebe had gone on duty with John, she’d left their son in the care of Julia, a friend with a toddler of her own. Young Connor would be safe and well cared for, but even so, she’d been fretting about him for hours. I’m coming home soon, my little one, she thought. As soon as I can.

  Phoebe blinked and forced herself to focus. She couldn’t afford to dwell on thoughts of her son. She had to get this job done. Sh
e had to make the settlement safe for young Connor and for all the other children who would grow up on the hill. She could do this. She could make everything right again.

  Her muscles begged for rest. It had been a long day, with little to drink and even less to eat. She’d been functioning on pure adrenaline since Calum had turned up near the lookout, and her nerves were stretched to snapping point, her energy reserves low.

  But none of that mattered. She ran on, pouring everything she could into this headlong sprint, powering forward, placing her feet carefully, painfully aware of every sound she made. Her breathing was too loud, and though she clutched her rifle to her chest as tightly as she could, it still somehow rattled against her clothes with every step. It’s okay, she told herself. No one knows we’re here, and Mac’s patrol is by the square. She gritted her teeth and forced her legs to move faster. Speed was everything.

  John and Tessa made it to the house and crouched down by the wall, then John turned back to watch while Tessa peered around the corner, checking the route ahead. Phoebe reached the house and took her place beside John, breathing hard.

  John watched her, and despite the gloom, she could see the concern in his eyes. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “Ready to go.”

  Tessa turned back. “It’s clear. We’ll stick to the paths—it’ll be faster.”

  “I don’t know,” John said. “What if someone sees us?”

  “They’ll think we’re with Mac,” Tessa replied. “And anyway, we know there’s a curfew. No one’s going to risk coming out to take a look.”

  “Let’s do it,” Phoebe said.

  Tessa nodded. “If we see any trouble, we’ll stop. Otherwise, we’ll run right to Sarah’s house, okay?”

  Phoebe took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  Tessa came out of her crouch and launched herself forward. John and Phoebe were hard on her heels, and this time Phoebe kept pace with her partner, driven on by sheer force of will. The seconds stretched out. Every yard Phoebe covered was a battle won, and although every fleeting shadow filled her with dread, she’d found another gear, and she powered forward, thinking of nothing but the task at hand. Soon, the squat shape of Sarah’s house emerged from the darkness, a light at the downstairs window. Tessa came to a sudden halt, and John and Phoebe stopped beside her.

  “I’ll take the front door,” Tessa said. “I want one of you with me, and I need someone to check the back. I’m pretty sure there’s no back door, but there’s a window, and we need it covered.”

  “I’ll take the front with you,” John said quickly. “The door might be locked, but I reckon I can kick it in.”

  “No need for that,” Tessa replied. “I’ll shoot the lock and mash it.”

  “In that case, I’ll stay with Tessa,” Phoebe said. “John, when you hear us taking out the door, smash the window and cover us.”

  Tessa nodded. “Good call. John, we’ll give you five seconds to get into position.”

  “Got it,” John said, then he took off.

  “Follow me,” Tessa whispered and stepped toward the door, scanning the front of the house as she walked, her rifle held ready.

  Phoebe followed, her pulse pounding in her ears. At the window, a dark shape moved, flitting from left to right. Just someone walking across the room, she told herself. But something wasn’t quite right. The dark shape had moved too quickly as if someone was trying to hide. What if someone had looked out and seen them approaching?

  “Wait,” Phoebe whispered, and Tessa froze.

  “What?”

  “The window,” Phoebe began. And in that second, Phoebe’s earpiece burst into life: “Matrix Three to all units, to my house now! We’re under attack!”

  Tessa dropped to one knee and shouldered her rifle. Phoebe did the same, and just in time. Sarah’s door burst open, and a volley of shots rang out, fizzing through the air above Phoebe’s head. She returned fire, aiming at the doorway, but whoever had fired was no longer there.

  “Move!” Tessa yelled, dashing to one side and throwing herself to the ground.

  Without hesitation, Phoebe did the same, taking up a position on Tessa’s left. She steadied her rifle, swinging the barrel from the window to the door and back again. Her earpiece was alive with chatter, but she blanked it out, preparing herself, her finger on the trigger of her rifle.

  From inside the house, the staccato rattle of gunfire rang out, but nobody was firing at Phoebe and Tessa. John! “What do we do?” Phoebe called out.

  “Cover me,” Tessa snapped. “Fire at the door and window. Give it everything you’ve got.”

  “Will do.” Phoebe started shooting, blasting away as fast as her weapon would allow. Her first shot cracked the window from top to bottom, the second blew it inward. She caught a glimpse of movement at the open doorway and recognized Mac’s ungainly form, but just as she fired, the metal door swung shut and her shot rebounded harmlessly. She fired again and again, aiming for where the door handle would be, but although its metal panels groaned, the door stayed firmly closed. She paused. Tessa was just about to take up position beside the door, and a rebound could take her off her feet. In the moment of silence, a cry split the night, sending a stab of pain to twist in her heart. It was John. He must’ve been hit.

  “Cover me!” Tessa shouted, and Phoebe leveled her gun at the window and fired a burst of three shots. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tessa throwing open the door, but a shot boomed out and Tessa wheeled around as though punched in the shoulder. She regained her balance and loosed a shoot through the doorway, but she was hit again, and this time she went down, her rifle clattering to the ground.

  “No!” Phoebe cried. She aimed at the open doorway, and someone appeared, a woman, a rifle at her shoulder. It was Sarah, and Phoebe had her in her sights. She pulled the trigger and Sarah’s head snapped back, then she fell heavily, her body landing on the ground with a dull thud.

  Phoebe was up and running. She charged at the doorway, leaping over Sarah’s prone form and bursting into the room, her weapon up. She pivoted, searching for Mac, but the room was empty. Mac had clearly made his escape.

  “John,” she called out. “Where are you?”

  “Phoebe.” The voice came from outside and Phoebe rushed to the rear window, her heart in her mouth. John was pulling himself up to his feet, and Phoebe allowed herself to breathe. Her partner appeared to have no major injury, but his left arm hung uselessly at his side, and she could see the pain written in his expression. “Phoebe, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. What happened?”

  “I was hit, but I’ll be okay,” John shook his head. “Mac. He got away. After I got hit, the bastard climbed out the window. He ran right past.”

  “Shit!” Phoebe hissed. “I got Sarah, but Tessa was hit too. I’d better check on her.”

  “No, I’ll do that. You get after Mac. He’s armed, but he’s running scared. He didn’t head for the square, he ran away from the houses. I’d bet he’s making for his house. If you go now, you can still catch him.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’m not leaving you here. Mac’s guys are on their way.”

  “I know, but I’ll be fine. Just go, Phoebe. Go! Before it’s too late.”

  “Goddammit!” Phoebe whispered, but she knew what she had to do. She ran to the door, pausing only to grab Sarah’s rifle as she passed. Tessa was lying still on the ground, but Phoebe looked away and started running. She tossed Sarah’s rifle aside then sped away, skirting around the homes and gardens and heading straight to Mac’s house. The night was darker now, but she knew exactly where she was going, and from somewhere, she found the strength to push harder, to run faster than she thought possible.

  Soon, Mac’s house was in front of her, its windows dark, and she slowed her pace, listening hard. There. A door slammed. A light flared at the front window.

  Phoebe checked her weapon then put on a burst of speed, reaching the front wall of the house in a few powerful strides. She sidled towa
rd the window, her rifle up. All she’d need was one shot. Another noise from inside: a metallic thud. Phoebe took a steadying breath then peeped in at the window’s edge. Mac was there, flashlight in hand, looking down at something on the floor. The trapdoor, Phoebe decided. Calum had told her about Mac’s secret hoard, and now she wondered what else was hidden down there. In the circumstances, Mac must have had some compelling reason to head for his cellar. Perhaps he wanted weapons or comms equipment. Or something worse. She knew that Mac had stolen protective suits, but she’d never figured out why. Now, a terrible suspicion gripped her. Mac was planning to use the grunge as a weapon, infecting the settlement so that only those with suits would be safe. By controlling the suits, Mac would gain the power of life and death over every single soul on the hill.

  He wouldn’t go that far, Phoebe told herself. But Mac was cornered and desperate. He’d already stepped over the line, and now there were no limits to what he might do. There was no way she could let him get down into that cellar.

  Mac bent down, his back to her, and Phoebe seized her chance. She ran to the door and kicked it open, yelling Mac’s name at the top of her voice. Mac turned to face her, his mouth open, the flashlight’s glow turning his features into a caricature of horrified amazement.

  Phoebe’s finger tightened on the trigger, and she raised her weapon, aiming directly at Mac’s head. At this range, she could not miss, and a headshot would be lethal. But Mac seemed frozen to the spot, and he wasn’t carrying a rifle. Could she gun him down in cold blood?

  “Don’t move!” Phoebe hollered. “Don’t move a goddamned muscle!”

  Mac shook his head, his eyes darting rapidly from side to side. “I’m not moving! Just let me go.”

  “Are you kidding? Raise your hands. Now!”

  For a second, Mac hesitated, then slowly, he raised his hands to shoulder height. His lower lip wobbled, but he took a breath and seemed to pull himself together. “I won’t do anything. I’m not a threat to you. You should just let me go.” His gaze slid from Phoebe, and he peered over her shoulder, “You’re alone?”

  “I’ve got people on the way,” Phoebe snapped. “But right now, I’ve got a gun on you, and you know I won’t hesitate.”