Apocalypse Five: Archive of the Fives Book One

by Stacey Rourke

  “Thanks for the assist. You know, you’d make a great team leader.” Houston grinned, stare focused on the curve of her lips.

  “You think so? I was planning on petitioning for the job,” she said with a wink and swiveled back into warrior mode.

  “We moving out, Captain Badass?” Augusta asked, sizing up their route down.

  Detroit’s mouth swung open to voice her hatred for the moniker, only to reconsider. “You know what? That one isn’t bad. Let’s move.”

  The path may have widened, but the deadly drop-off still loomed mere inches away. Playing it safe, they moved at a silent, steady pace. The trail led down the highest peak of the mountain, through jutting hills of rock that spilled out close to the Air Walkers’ camp.

  Any progress they thought they were making veered off course when the sharp ping of a laser blast caused a spray of rubble to explode next to Detroit’s foot.

  “Take cover!” the team leader ordered, flattening her back against the mountain.

  The shooters were easy to find.

  Clad in the latest issue grappling climbers, soldiers from the Fortress scaled the terrain with arachnid ease. They need only move their arms and legs, and the machinery laced around their limbs did the rest. Spikes stabbed into the mountain with a mechanical whir, locking into place and propelling them higher. It would only take minutes for them to make up the distance between them.

  Shoving off the wall, Detroit screamed her face red. “Run!”

  Rapid-fire pops rang out, spurring them on—the team’s only blessing being the angle the shooters dangled at, hindering their ability to get a clean shot. Even that would be a short-lived as the assailants hoisted themselves toward the walking trail.

  “I can take them out while they’re still climbing!” Detroit shouted, grabbing for her gun.

  Head swiveling, Houston took all of three seconds to evaluate the range, distance, and situation. “Save your ammo! We need to get that baby off this rock!”

  “That’s going to be a lot harder when they’re on solid ground and closing in!” Detroit argued, hurdling over a boulder in her path.

  Finger itching to pull a trigger, Houston’s stare darkened to a storm of chaos. “Exchange gunfire here is too risky. Dodge a bullet, lose your footing, and that’s the end. We need flat terrain. Look for caves we can duck into or easier paths down!”

  “They aren’t going to let us off this mountain!” Remi seized the back of Leif’s shirt, as if that simple act could bind them together and protect them.

  “We’re not going to give them that option.” Pulling up short, Auggie jerked his head at a bend in the path. It was rockier than their trail, and would require quite a bit more maneuvering. The upside being, it ventured down at a steeper pitch than their current gradual stroll to doom.

  “Halt!” the soldiers behind them bellowed. Feet settling on to the path, they raised their weapons to shoulder level. “Our only directive is for the child! Hand it over, and we can let you walk free!”

  Catching up with Auggie, Houston evaluated the course change. “You’re going to need time to make that climb.”

  Warning sirens blared in Detroit’s mind, their clanging urgency rattling through her skull. “You said you’re.”

  “This doesn’t need to get messy. Just give us the child,” the fortsman leading the horde called, slinking closer with careful sidesteps.

  “You’re not touching my daughter!” Remi boomed in full mama bear rage.

  Gaze flicking over Detroit’s face, Houston’s features softened with melancholy defeat. “All they’re after is the baby.”

  Hands protectively cradling his daughter, Leif’s upper lip curled into a snarl. “They’ll get her over my dead body!”

  If Houston heard Leif’s protest, it didn’t register. Closing the distance between himself and Detroit, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Rally as many of the clans as you can. Storm the Fortress, and get Juneau back.”

  Reluctantly tearing himself away, the senior member of the A-5 cast a nod to Augusta and Reno.

  A simple gesture to unravel them all.

  Auggie inched in close to Leif, with Reno tucked in tight to his shoulder.

  “We will open fire!” one among the team of soldiers warned. “Don’t let it end like this!”

  Catching Houston’s arm, Detroit forced him to face her. “Whatever you’re thinking, there’s another way. You don’t have to do anything stupid.”

  A sad smile tugged back one corner of Houston’s mouth as he cradled Detroit’s face in his palm and dotted a tender kiss to her forehead. Eyes closed, he breathed in her scent for a beat, then shoved her toward the newly discovered route with gentle insistence.

  Lunging for Adalyn, a scuffle broke out between him and the panicked father. Or, so it seemed. Detroit’s vantage point allowed her to see every step of the intricate choreography. Auggie had thumbed loose the tie around Leif’s neck, then seized hold of the stunned father at the same instant Houston’s hands closed around the blankets the baby had been wrapped in. While Auggie wrenched Leif around, seemingly tossing him aside, Houston wrapped the blankets around his own forearm and cradled the staged bundle to his chest. Leif’s angled posture made it easy for him to hand over the baby to Reno, who carefully hid her behind Auggie’s back.

  Whether Remi understood what was happening or not, she added realism to the charade her frantic shrieks. “Please! Give her back to me!”

  “Son! Don’t do anything stupid!” The lead solider clicked the safety off his weapon in open threat.

  In the midst of the frenzy, Houston saw nothing except Detroit’s face. Heels inching toward the drop-off, nothing but clouds stood between him and the earth below.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Reno was the first to slip off down the new path with Adalyn in tow.

  Tips of her fingers reaching for Houston’s hand, Detroit slowly edged closer with a hot rush of tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t do this. Please. I need you … here, with me.”

  “Step away from that ledge! Or we will shoot!”

  Head tilted in her direction, heartfelt truth radiated from the depths of Houston’s soul. “You were my pleasant apocalypse.” Throwing himself back in a reverse swan-dive, he hurled himself and the bundled blankets off the cliff.

  An anguished wail ripping from her throat, Detroit could do nothing but watch as he disappeared into the clouds.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Rappel down! Claim the bodies now!” the soldier in charge shouted to his men. Leveling his gun, he turned on the Detroit. “I’ll take care of the rest of them.”

  Detroit pulled an assault rifle in one hand and a ZiP pistol in the other before stomping toward the troop and opening up both barrels. Missing those retreating down the mountainside, she concentrated her attentions on the brave moron who hung back. One of her bullets slammed into his shoulder, pinwheeling him around with his finger on the trigger. Arm flinging wide, he squeezed off one last shot.

  When Detroit flung herself out of range, her boot slipped on crumbled rock. Arms wind-milling to catch her balance, she was seconds from following Houston off the cliff when a hand caught her wrist and pulled her back.

  “Don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing,” Augusta growled. “Let’s go.”

  Auggie’s trail turned out to be an obstacle course of jutting boulders and slippery terrain.

  Detroit experienced none of it.

  Locked in a loop of misery, she watched Houston fall time and again. Studying each detail, she tortured herself with what she could have done differently to change the horrific outcome. Acted quicker when she noticed his look of anguished acceptance? Wrap a stone in the baby’s blanket and whip that over the edge? Scream that she loved him? Try to catch him? What would it have taken? Could she have changed things at all?

  By the time her boots settled into the dirt on solid ground, the team leader had worked herself up into a lather of rage. The constellations must have pitied h
er grief, because they blessed her with sounds of a scuffle coming from the mouth of the mountain. Without hesitation, Detroit’s boots rerouted her path.

  Remi did a double take as the team leader strode off. “Detroit, come on! We have to get the baby out of here!”

  “I’ll catch up,” Detroit rumbled, not bothering to pause or glance back.

  “Where’s she going?” Remi asked, bouncing Adalyn as she began to fuss.

  Catching hold of her upper arm, Auggie guided mother and baby toward the forest. “She’s in search of catharsis of the bloodiest sort.”

  “Will she be okay?”

  “Honestly?” Augusta admitted with a lift of his shoulder. “I’d be more concerned for the poor souls that cross her path.”

  Morgan and his warriors had been forced to their knees. Fingers laced behind their heads, blood trickled from their ears.

  “You live in this mountain because we allow you to,” the fortsman holding the ultrasonic weapon armed trooper bellowed, the tendons of his neck bulging. “Your entire way of life is possible because we have measures in place to keep you safe. Yet, how do you repay us? By jeopardizing everything we’ve built by not handing over an infected child!”

  So confident were the soldiers in the potency of that single weapon, that the other four men stationed there took no part in the brutal questions. Instead, armed with their special grade earplugs, they busied themselves collecting the Cave Dweller’s spears and bows.

  Morgan caught a glimpse of Detroit stalking straight for them and bristled out of concern for the girl. Spine straightening, he shook his head as subtly as he could in hopes it would hinder her advance.

  Following his stare, the armed soldier glanced over his shoulder, nostrils flaring at the sight of what appeared to be yet another Cave Dweller. “Stop right there! You want to see me fire this directly at your friends here? Point blank range will explode organs. Don’t test me, girl!” A press of one button made the weapon whine to life, powering up to fire.

  Detroit didn’t slow or stop. Training taught her that the ultrasonic needed ninety seconds to charge to full power. She wouldn’t need but half that to get it out of his grip. Craving a little hand-to-hand release, she had even kept her own weapons holstered.

  “I said freeze!” the enraged soldier warned. Finger hovering over the trigger, he jammed the wide barrel to Morgan’s forehead. “I will blow his brain out the back of his skull!”

  “That’s not how that weapon works,” Detroit growled through her teeth. Raising one foot, she boot-stomped the side of his knee, dislocating it with a sickening thunk.

  Shrieking in anguish, he sagged to the ground, his hold on the weapon dropping. Detroit stretched her arm across her chest, driving her elbow down fast and hard. His nose exploded in a soaking spray of blood.

  Morgan jumped to his feet, caught the loose weapon, and aimed it at the soldiers rushing to the aid of their man.

  While their steps slowed, they continued their advance.

  “You won’t fire that,” a lanky trooper with a shock of platinum hair sneered. “Not when you know what it’s doing to your precious mountain.”

  “You’re probably right,” Morgan admitted, dragging his tongue across his top teeth. Pushing the button to deactivate its charge, he held it against his hip. “Then again, maybe I don’t need to.”

  None of the four remaining Fortress men noticed the Floaters creeping out of the trees behind them. Nicoli and Tatum slunk in on whispered steps, limbs taut and ready for battle.

  Grabbing the bleeding trooper by the back of his collar, Detroit flung him to the ground and shifted her stare to the others who had yet to realize the tables had turned.

  “Her?” Towhead snorted, sizing her up and finding her lacking. “We can bat her around a little bit, if it’ll make you feel like she actually stood a chance.”

  Nicoli inched up behind him, catching Towhead by the throat. Pinning him to his chest, he whispered against the shocked soldier’s ear, “Brave words. Let’s see how you fair against her one-on-one.” With that, he shoved the gasping fortsman into Detroit’s reach.

  Stumbling forward, Towhead fell to his knees at Detroit’s feet. His head tipped slowly, in anticipation of her strike.

  “Get up,” she muttered in a hiss as deadly as a razor’s edge.

  As he rose to his feet, the remaining soldiers tried to casually sneak back toward the forest behind him.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Morgan tsked, clapping the ultrasonic barrel against his palm. “I think you need to stay and watch this.”

  That sentiment was enforced by his fellow Cave Dwellers closing in a tight formation around them to pin them where they stood … and rid them of their protective ear plugs.

  Assuming a wide-legged stance, Detroit calmly folded her hands in front of her and waited for Towhead to get to his feet.

  He towered over her by a good ten inches. The size difference allowed him to glare down the bridge of his nose at her like she was nothing more than an insignificant bug he could squash underfoot. “You should have taken your shot when I was on the ground. That’s the only way you’ll ever—”

  His words were cut off by a pained huff. The air was forced from his lungs by Detroit’s hand shooting out, the heel of her palm slamming into his solar plexus.

  Mouth hanging open, Towhead gasped for a breath he simply couldn’t claim. His knees sunk to the ground, his fingers clawed into the dirt.

  “What’s happening right now is a spasm in your diaphragm. It hurts like hell, and if it doesn’t relax in time, you will lose consciousness. Don’t worry, it’s not fatal. You will wake up and remember this moment.” Squatting down beside him, Detroit ducked her head into his eyeline and forced him to look at her. “Which is good, because I want you and your friend to tell everyone what’s about to happen.”

  The team leader of the Apocalypse Five rose to full height and turned in a slow circle, watching the crowd grow around her. Cave Dwellers poured from the mouth of their now tattered home. Floaters appeared from behind the trees. Even Leif and Auggie stumbled out into the clearing, having been unable or unwilling to leave without her. Detroit let them take in the spectacle with wide-eyed wonder, marinating in the possibility of hope before she uttered a word.

  Filling her lungs, she lifted her voice in a commanding boom that echoed through the valley. “For too long, you’ve been divided. Forced apart, to survive in the only way you know how. Look what we can accomplish when we come together! They’ve lied to you, and manipulated you while this world crumbles. Promising protection they never delivered. Let today be all the proof you need that you need no help from a starship above, or a camp that demands your subservience. We can take this world back, if we work together! Those that remain of the Apocalypse Five …” voice cracking from emotion, Detroit forced herself to shake it off and press on, “are headed to the Fortress. Join us and we can claim that base, and chase those sons-a-bitches back to the stars where they belong!”

  The moment of silence that followed stretched on long enough for Detroit to fear her message had missed its mark. Nicoli was the first to respond. Raising his hand to shoulder height, his fingers curled into a fist with his thumb out in the sign language letter a. A nod to Detroit, and he clapped that fist to his chest in salute of the A-5. One by one the crowd followed, the trickle of rebelling roiling into an ocean of resolve.

  “She went in search of revenge and came out with an army,” Leif muttered to Auggie, joining the others in the salute.

  A proud smile cast at his teammate, Augusta granted her the salute she earned time and time again. “That’s why we made her team leader.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Cave Dwellers loaded up every man and woman traveling with dried meats, nuts, and as many water canteens as they could comfortably carry—one of the many benefits granted to them by having underwater springs hidden the safe confines of their camp. While the mountain was a bit worse for wear, the Cavers wasted no time instal
ling support beams to take the strain off the shifting rock. Nature took care of them, and they more than willing to return the favor.

  It fell to the Floaters to supply the weapons, and that they did in droves. Scavenging being a way of life, Tatum explained that they used their spare ship as an armory for any weapons they found. Even the grenade launcher Detroit loved so much had once been bartered to the Air Walkers in exchange for fresh produce. Setting up makeshift tables, they allowed their building army of rebels to arm themselves with guns they could prove they could handle.

  Taking the time to change back into her flight suit, Detroit let the lot of them choose their weapons first. As long as she could aim and fire whatever was left over, she would gladly add it to the arsenal tucked in every nook and cranny of her uniform.

  Locked, stocked, and loaded, the newfound army marched on the Fortress. Some attempted conversation to calm their anxious souls. Others, like Reno and Detroit, sank into silence.

  Fixated on scanning the landscape for incoming threats, Detroit didn’t notice Nicoli by her side until his elbow brushed hers. Jerking at the contact, her hand instinctively twitched toward the gun on her hip.

  He yelped, hands raised in retreat. “Note to self, don’t sneak up on a chick with more than six visible guns strapped to her person.”

  Drumming her fingers against the grip of her ZiP, she took a beat to assess if the world would miss him, then dropped her hand to her side. “What do you want, Nicoli?”

  “She’s good with the punchy-kick, but lacks basic conversational skills. Got it,” he muttered to himself, before trying once more to engage the enigmatic team leader. “I’m sure you’re evaluating all sorts of tactical … shit. I just thought I would point out that the Fortress hasn’t sent anyone to check up on their team, and those fellas won’t be back any time soon. Especially since you tied them up and gave the baby’s father the ultrasonic to guard them. Brilliantly cruel by the way, kudos on that.”