Apocalypse Five: Archive of the Fives Book One

by Stacey Rourke

  Positioning himself in front of Remi, Leif threw his arms out wide. “What are you going to do, Mom? Shoot me? Well, take aim. Because I will never give up my wife or my child. What would you have done if I was born just four years later?”

  The reverend’s face reddening with frustration, she pinched her lips in a thin white line. “The air wasn’t toxic then! The most we had to worry about was starvation, or humanoids making off with infants in the night! Leif, you know I love you. Had I been in your situation I don’t think I could make such a sacrifice.”

  “Yet you expect me to?” he bellowed, hands curling into fists at his sides.

  “I expect you to know you don’t have a choice!” she screamed back, easily matching his fury.

  “Not going to lie,” Auggie whispered, his nose crinkling in disgust, “I’m pretty bummed to hear humanoids are real. Those things are the worst.”

  Swallowing hard, the reverend’s shoulders sagged. “We have to protect the Air Walker camp, no matter the cost. Shooters,” she tossed the command over her shoulder, “take your aim.”

  Leif extended one hand, pleading for mercy. “I beg you not to do this. We’re still family.”

  “This is on you, son. All you have to do is hand over the child,” she responded, her mask of indifference fixed firmly in place once more. “Elsewise, you forfeited your lives when you ran.”

  “This is what we’ve been fighting to protect?” Juneau waved the gun in the direction of the stand-off, unable to hide the bitterness in her tone. “All we’ve done and sacrificed has been for these … killers?”

  Detroit slid over in her low-crouch to place a comforting hand on her unraveling teammate’s shoulder. “No, not them. The family out there, fighting to stay together? Those are the ones all of this has been for, whether any of us knew it or not.”

  An eerie calm spread over Juneau’s features, erasing any traces of the turmoil plaguing her. “You’re absolutely right. Without us, they don’t stand a chance.”

  Without further explanation, she popped to her feet and inserted herself in the drama with a determined stride.

  “I do not trust the look in her eye,” Reno mumbled.

  “Me either. Let’s go.” Detroit’s hair tickled over the back of her neck as she jerked her head in gesture to the others. They fell into step behind Juneau, not quite matching her resolute gait.

  “Stop! Who are you?” the reverend demanded. Her soldiers’ weapons immediately swiveled in the direction of the A-5.

  Ignoring the threat of death, Juneau offered Remi a warm smile that didn’t quite stretch to her eyes. “My name is Juneau, and I’m here to help you. We can get you out of this, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” she asked, her voice chilled steel.

  “Y-yes,” Remi stammered, casting a nervous glance to Leif.

  “Glad to hear it.” No sooner did the words leave her lips than Juneau boot-stomped the back of Remi’s knee.

  The instant the new mom folded to the ground, Juneau caught the baby. Nestling the squirming infant into the crook of her elbow, she pressed the barrel of her gun to the baby’s forehead.

  “We,” Juneau’s crazed stare swept to her aghast team, “are the Apocalypse Five. I’m sure you’ve heard of us.”

  A sharp, collective inhalation proved her right.

  “Juneau, what the hell are you doing?” Reno demanded.

  “Before anyone gets unnecessarily hurt,” Juneau continued, seemingly oblivious to the collective panic bubbling around her, “there are a few harsh truths you all need to know.”

  “Orion’s Belt!” Houston cursed.

  “Welp,” Auggie puffed his cheeks, and blew out an exasperated breath through pursed lips, “here we go.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Please don’t hurt my baby,” Remi sobbed, dragging herself across the ground with her bruised leg crumpled beneath her.

  “Nobody is going to get hurt,” Juneau’s attempt to reassure the panicked mother was counteracted by her readjusting her grip on the Glock. “Because everyone is going to fix on their listening ears right quick.”

  “Can you shoot her without hitting the baby?” the reverend muttered to her armed troops.

  “Now, is that being a good listener?” Juneau pressed, scratching her own forehead with the barrel of the gun.

  “June-bug, you’re acting a little nutzo. What’s the plan here?” Reno’s wild stare flicked from his sister to the team.

  “The plan is to get the truth out!” Juneau barked, waving the gun in the baby’s direction.

  “There has to be a better way than this.” Keeping her tone calm and soothing, Detroit risked a step closer.

  “No! This will work!” Curls, frizzy with sweat, puffed around Juneau’s face. “I will give her back to her mother and father, as soon as they hear the truth.”

  “What is she blathering about?” Her nose twitching with barely contained loathing, the reverend’s glare lobbed to each member of the newly arrived team.

  “I’m blathering,” Juneau spat the word like acid off her tongue, “about the fact that the air on this planet isn’t going to harm this baby, or anyone. The AT-1-NS has been feeding us all lies! We have to break this cycle! Together we can stand up to them and end their reign of corruption!”

  The soldiers’ weapons drooped, not with conviction but confusion.

  Planting her feet in a wide-legged stance, the intensity of the reverend’s stare stabbed judgmental daggers Juneau’s way. “I don’t know who you are, but I have no intention of listening to a lunatic that threatens a baby. Hand over the child, you worthless excuse for a human being, or we will open fire.”

  Desperation clouding her eyes to murky puddles of confusion, Juneau turned to her team leader.

  Detroit knew Juneau’s kind heart and held no doubts that she had been trying to do the right thing. Even so, she was just a kid. They all were. And, as such, sometimes that meant their methods of execution were flawed.

  Dropping her arms with a slap, Detroit shook off her defensive pose. “You’re threatening a child to save a child? You see the irony in that, right? Or, how about the fact that you want the baby, so you can give her away?” Closing the distance between herself and Juneau, Detroit pressed two fingers to the barrel of the Glock and gently lowered it. “You’re going to take the gun, give the baby to her mother, and work with Reno to get their family out of here. That’s an order, Juneau.”

  “Don’t you dare move!” The reverend’s throaty voice echoed through the mountainous valley.

  Clicking the safety on, Juneau used the gun as an extension of her hand to snap off a crisp salute. “Yes, Team Leader.”

  After easing the baby into Remi’s trembling arms, Juneau helped her to her feet. Reno edged in behind her, his jaw tensed with growing unease.

  A lift of her chin to Houston and Auggie was the only cue Detroit needed to give. The three team elders formed a shoulder-to-shoulder wall of resolve before the firing squad, giving the younger two a chance at escape.

  One corner of the reverend’s mouth tugged back in a withering smirk. “You’re unarmed, against a militia with ten rifles.”

  “Good.” Houston rolled his shoulder, his muscles dancing beneath his flight suit. “They’re going to need them.”

  “Make no mistake, we will shoot!” The tendons of the reverend’s neck bulged in her fit of rage.

  “By all means, you should.” Auggie stretched his neck in one direction then the other, limbering up for the tussle. “Otherwise, it won’t be a fair fight. That said, you’ve been holding out giving that order for a while now. You being a woman of faith, I’m betting calling out that order would be your absolute worst nightmare. The repercussions you would be left with would cause you to redefine who you are and what you believe in. That’s not an easy call to make. My guess? We can get your entire crew disarmed and contained while you’re still wrestling with that.”

  “Don’t presume to know me.” The conviction of the rev
erend’s tone fell short as she watched her son disappear around the bend, led by Reno and Juneau. “Leif, think of your clan! Don’t do this!”

  Detroit whistled through her teeth, and the three of them charged. Each of their fighting styles revealed itself in their method of attack. Auggie slammed a palm to the ground and whipped his right leg into a low kick. Sweeping the legs out from under the gunman on the end, he followed up with an elbow to the forearm to rid his target of his weapon. The gun fell from his grip, thudding to the earth in a small cloud of dust. The camo-clad soldier beside him swung his rifle at Auggie’s temple. Unfortunately for him, he miscalculated the distance between them and managed only a glancing blow to Auggie’s shoulder. Closing his fist around the barrel of the rifle, Auggie drove the butt back and shattered his target’s nose in a spray of crimson. Flipping the weapon over the back of his hand, Auggie settled it into an easy grip with the sight settled on the blond soldier next in line whose almond-shaped eyes flashed with challenge.

  “Hands behind your head! Get on the ground, now!” Auggie bellowed. A gruff edge, exclusive in moments such as that, crept into his tone and sharpened his features with deadly intent.

  Being slight in size, Detroit went for speed in her assault. Dodging to the left, she waited for the soldier with her ponytail tucked through the back of a dirty baseball cap and the buzzcut fella beside her to trail her with her weapon. Then, faster than they could track, she shot to the right. Palm strike to the wrist of ponytail easily disarmed Ponytail. Catching the forearm of Buzzcut, Detroit twisted his arm around and fired a round into the thigh of a third soldier rampaging straight for her. Stealing Buzzcut’s shotgun, she ordered them to the ground. Three down, no waiting.

  Houston’s tactic was straight on intimidation. Two wide strides and he grabbed the gun barrels pointed at him, shifting them up and away. Driving the heels down hard and fast, he forced the air from the lungs of the would-be marksmen. He swiveled the rifles skyward, emptying the chambers on to the ground.

  A flurry of a few frantic seconds and the reverend was peering down at her rallied troops groaning and writhing in the dirt.

  “It didn’t have to be this way.” Gathering the fallen weapons, Detroit slung those with straps over her shoulders. The rest she tucked into any available space on her utility belt she could find.

  Chin quivering, the reverend’s cool façade crumbled in a wash of unchecked tears. “You have no idea what you’ve done. You think you’re heroes because you saved one life for a matter of a few hours? Wait until you’ve had to stand by, powerless, while hundreds starve. But, you will learn. Of that, I have no doubt. I just wonder how many among you will die on your path to the cruel clarity.”

  “Or,” Auggie patted at his pockets in search of his flask, only to be slapped with the disappointing reminder he tossed it, “you could realize the AT-1-NS has been playing you and using your infants as currency. That’s going to be a bitch of a wake-up call.”

  “Augusta, shut up,” Detroit snapped. Locking stares with the reverend, she held firm. “We are not here to be your enemies. The sooner you face the truth, the better it will be for all of us. We will need everyone to stand with us against those on the starship.”

  Arms falling limp at her sides, the last of the fight drained from the reverend. “You naïve children. The Fortress will never allow uprising. They’d sooner watch us all burn.”

  The trio exchanged matching looks of apprehension, all they didn’t know of this world dragging them down like a leaden anchor.

  The reverend didn’t miss one moment of the exchange. Heading falling back, she huffed a humorless laugh to the heavens. “You don’t even know what the Fortress is! How can you even think about cutting off the head of the snake, when you don’t know which end is up?”

  Punching two of the rifles into Houston’s gut for him to carry, Detroit signaled for them to move out. “We’ll figure it out. By the time we do, maybe you’ll see who the true enemy is.”

  Leaving their opposers trampled and bleeding on the ground, the A-5ers shuffled down a narrow, rocky ledge to catch up with the rest of their team. Once their feet settled onto solid ground, a trilled bird call drew their attentions to a row of towering pines seven paces to the west. There, the twins and the young family waited.

  Taking a bold step forward, Leif searched their faces as if seeing them for the first time. “Is it true? Are you the Apocalypse Five?”

  Something in the way he asked made Detroit stop short. On AT-1-NS the title they held equated to living arrangements, death-defying simulations, and lives lived for the amusement of others. Here, it seemed to mean something far more real.

  “We are,” she awkwardly managed.

  Lunging forward, Leif seized her in a tight bear hug. “While I’m not a fan of your methods, I appreciate the hell out of the outcome.”

  “Let her go, Leif,” Remi sniveled. Wearing her own grateful smile, she cradled her daughter tight to her chest. “As fortunate as we are to have run into them, you know she could snap your arm off and beat you with it.”

  Pulling back, Leif held Detroit at arm’s distance. “Does this mean the actual apocalypse is at hand? Does it have something to do with the Fortress?”

  Peering back over his shoulder, Houston anticipated the wrath sure to follow them down the gorge. “The only thing we know for sure is that they won’t give up that easily. We need to find somewhere safe to hide out and regroup, and fast.”

  Shrugging off Leif’s overzealous grasp, Detroit wiped her forehead with the back of her arm. “Do you two have any idea where we could go?”

  Chewing on her lower lip, Remi’s brow puckered. “It’s a long shot.”

  “It’s the only option we’ve got.” Leif’s head jerked toward the cluster of trees. “This way. Follow me.”

  * * *

  Back up on the crag, first aid was administered to those who needed it, simply to get them back on their feet.

  Pacing behind her crew, the reverend ground her teeth to the point of pain. “We need to get back to camp and arm ourselves. Those kids could spread a plague of rebellion we would be blamed for. Unless we want to see our entire village leveled to ash, we need to find them … now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Can we please slow down for a bit?” Remi panted, cradling Adalyn against her chest as she forced her tired legs to trudge on.

  Gnawing on her lower lip, Juneau hovered close behind the new mom. The doe-eyed teen longed to apologize but had no idea where to begin.

  Detroit glanced over her shoulder, scanning the thick grove of evergreens for traces they were being followed. The Air Walkers would regroup and come after them. Of that, she held no doubt. What they needed now was distance.

  “For a minute.” Detroit slowed her own pace in invitation for them to do the same. “Do you have water? You’re both covered in sweat and need to hydrate.”

  Wiping his forehead on the back of his forearm, Leif shook his head. “No. Our camp’s water supply is stretched insanely thin. If we took any it would have been noticed right away. Our goal was to get to the caves before they caught up with us. There are underground freshwater springs there. If the Cave Dwellers were willing to let us rest and regroup there, we were going to barter with this.” Swinging the satchel strung around his shoulder in front of him, Leif flipped the leather flap back to reveal an assortment of apples, pears, and nuts. “One great thing about living in the trees: there’s always a fresh stash of produce growing off your house.”

  “That’s not going to help much right now.” Juneau unclipped the camel-pack attached to the belt of her flight suit and tentatively handed Leif her own emergency water supply.

  Accepting it with a grateful nod, Leif sucked down a greedy gulp, then passed it to Remi.

  Her gaze dragging over her team in a quick status update, Detroit noticed the shake of Auggie’s hands. Deep in the trenches of alcohol withdrawal, his complexion was slick with sweat. His lips were dusky and pal
e. Unhooking her own camel-pack, she unscrewed the cap and passed it to him. While he had his own, Detroit doubted he would be able to open it by himself.

  Taking advantage of their momentary break, Houston inventoried the weapons Detroit and Auggie had gathered from the Air Walkers. “Pretty damned impressive collection: ADS assault rifle, FN Five-seven, supped up ZiP pistol, and a Chiappa Rhino revolver. What is this one?” Brow creased, Houston slid the strap of a formidable looking device off Detroit’s arm. The second realization of what he was holding dawned, his eyes bulged with equal parts shock and excitement. “A XM27 grenade launcher? Where did they get this?”

  Noticing Reno sliding down the trunk of a tree, his eyes closed with a hum singing from his lips, Detroit called out, “We’re going to need to keep moving. Leif, you said you were headed to the caves. Are we close to them?”

  Treating himself to one last pull from the camel-pack, Leif handed it back to Juneau. “No, we’re heading the wrong direction. They were to the south of the cliff. Swinging around would be too dangerous now. We would have to skirt along the edges of the Air Walker camp.”

  As he fumbled to screw the cap on Detroit’s water, Auggie jerked his head to the path before them. “What’s in this direction?”

  “That’s … the Pacific Ocean,” Remi hesitated before answering, shooting an uneasy glance in Leif’s direction.

  Squaring her shoulders, Detroit tipped her head back to glare down her nose at the pair. “We just saved your lives. If you’re hiding something that could harm my team in any way, be warned I won’t take kindly to it. If there’s something up ahead we need to know about, spill it.”

  Leif dragged the back of his hand over his forehead, pushing aside sun-bleached strands of hair stuck to his sweat-dampened brow. “Just off the shoreline is the Floaters’ camp. They pride themselves on maintaining complete neutrality in all of the politics and maneuvering of the other clans. Getting them to help us in any way will be next to impossible.”