The Complete Colony Saga [Books 1-7]

by Collings, Michaelbrent

  (no-zombie's land?)

  – and throw itself into the mob of creatures on the other side, there to be torn apart.

  That was yet another first. Christopher had seen the things attack their brothers and sisters, but only after a head wound rendered them insane. Only after – if Aaron was right – their communication with whatever was in charge of them was cut off. But never had he seen the creatures just attack each other for no apparent reason.

  Nor had he seen them like this before. Always before they had run in a single group whenever possible. Always before they had acted as a uniform organism.

  Why two?

  The beginning of an idea began to form. Not comprehension – nothing so developed, so sophisticated. But... something.

  The twin hordes swept like locusts across the fields. Christopher had no doubt that they would leave nothing behind.

  And had no doubt they were headed for the bunker. The survivors.

  The girls.

  They had only minutes. Perhaps ten. Perhaps less.

  "They're... coming," Aaron gasped. "We... have to... kill the girls.... Our only chance.... Cut off the... source...."

  Christopher understood what he meant. Understood he believed that the girls were somehow ordering this.

  And it made sense in a way. Made sense that they would be ordering the twin hordes. Even made sense that the hordes would attack each other at the fringes.

  Just like Lizzy and Hope tried to have Sally and Buck kill each other.

  What are they becoming?

  "We have to... kill them...." Aaron started to turn blue.

  Ken growled. Raised the growth on his free hand, which buzzed its deep, deadly sound.

  "Ken, stop" said Christopher. The other man – if a man was what he even was – turned to him. Christopher almost cringed away from his gaze. Instead he turned to look at Aaron. "It wouldn't do any good."

  He looked at Ken. "Let him go." Ken didn't move. "Please," he added.

  Ken's hand opened. Let Aaron fall. He chuffed, an angry sound that clearly said to Aaron, You're mine. I can kill you when I please. And don't cross me, or I will.

  Then Ken loped into the night.

  And the horde was closer.

  (Give up.

  Give in.)

  The feeling came over Christopher. The feeling he had had so many times. The feeling that he should just give up, just lay down and die, or run with arms wide to the embrace of the horde coming his way.

  But that didn't chill him.

  No, what scared him was that he felt it coming from a particular direction.

  From inside the bunker.

  From the girls.

  9

  AARON STOOD, RUBBING his throat. And though Ken seemed to believe he wasn't a threat, Christopher wasn't so sure.

  Sure enough: "We... we have to...."

  "Don't." Christopher held up a hand.

  "But –"

  "Don't." He marveled in the back of his mind that he would argue with the cowboy. Such a thing would have been impossible only a few days ago. Aaron was imposing – not just because he could kill just about anything with a bobby pin and a handful of spit. Even without that, the man was had a commanding presence. He was shorter than Christopher, didn't look physically impressive. But there was an aura about him. A vibe that said, "Cross me and I'll punch you so hard yo momma will die. And if she's already dead she'll resurrect and then die."

  But here Christopher was standing up to him. And Aaron was actually quieting. Looking at the horde. Softly saying, "They're coming. For them. I think... I think the girls are calling them."

  "I think so, too."

  Aaron swung on him. Wide-eyed. "Then what are we doing here, son? What chance do we have – do any of us have, but to kill them?"

  Christopher shook his head. "Even that won't work."

  (Give up.

  Give in.)

  (HERE. COME HERE.)

  (TO ME. COME.)

  (KILL.)

  (KILL.)

  Christopher looked at Aaron. Wondered if the other man had heard. Had noticed.

  "Two," he said.

  Christopher nodded. The mind-sounds, the calls from below, had split. Somehow they had become two distinct mental cries. Similar, but different. Two waves overlapping, crashing over each other in a race to some unknown shore.

  "We have to kill them."

  "It won't work." Christopher shouted the words. And as he did, he heard the horde. The sound of them, chirping that strange noise that could be communication, could be them continuing the changes they were still undergoing... could be some weird zombie farts for all he knew.

  We have to hurry.

  He shook his head. "Killing them won't work," he said again. "Not unless we can burn the bodies to nothing before they –" and he pointed to the twin hordes, still apart from each other but drawing ever closer to the bunker in the night, "– get here."

  "What do you mean?"

  Christopher looked at the hordes. Dark masses, growling, chirping. Few details visible in the dark night. But enough that he felt loose inside, and at the same time felt his skin tighten, his frame grow rigid.

  We're dead. Dead. All we've done, all we've gone through... and it meant nothing.

  He heard something from the far side of one of the hordes. A shrieking. A small part of that loping line fell in on itself. Imploded as though a bomb had gone off just inside its line.

  Ken.

  But it wouldn't be enough. No way even the... thing that Ken now was could stop what looked like tens of thousands of the creatures that all –

  (COME. COME.)

  (RUNRUNRUNRUN...)

  – were headed this direction.

  Should we kill them?

  But he knew it wouldn't work. Because of what he had felt below. When Maggie screamed in his mind. When the children's mother shrieked, and he fell into Lizzy and his hand touched the toddler's foot, and...

  ... he saw.

  (Give up.)

  (Give in.)

  (COME TO ME.)

  (FASTERFASTERKILLTHEMKILLTHEMALL)

  Christopher grabbed Aaron.

  Yanked them both back into the bunker.

  Into what had been built as a refuge but was now a tomb with an open door that would invite Death to come and make its home.

  10

  "WHAT ARE WE DOING?"

  Nothing. No answer. Just footsteps pounding. Dragging them deeper.

  (COME.)

  (KILL.)

  "Son, are you –"

  Christopher looked around the first room of the bunker – a place built as both an entertainment room and something of a diversion. Meant to make anyone who stumbled down here believe that this was the entirety of what was in fact a massive underground complex that could house a dozen people for years. The room had a poker table, some shelving, a couch and love seat.

  And a large flat screen TV. Christopher didn't care about the TV, exactly. But he did care about....

  His heart felt like it stopped. "Where is it?" he said. "Where is it?" Panic rose within him. He turned in a circle. Mo, the owner of the bunker, was a tidy soul. But zombies had recently overrun this room, and it showed. The poker table was overturned, the TV was a bent and broken mass on the floor. "Where, where?" he said. His voice cracked.

  "What are you looking for?" said Aaron. His voice was surprisingly gentle. Christopher didn't know whether that was because he could tell how important this was, or if he had just made peace with his onrushing doom.

  Christopher didn't care. He whirled to face the cowboy. "Help me find the remote."

  Aaron's mouth dropped open. "The... the remote?" he stammered. Confusion reigned on his face.

  "The TV remote!" Christopher roared.

  "I don't think now's the time. Besides," said Aaron, nudging the broken television with a boot, "the TV looks busted to me."

  "I'm not going to watch television, you corn-fed, inbred, cow-humping moron," Christopher screamed
. "I'm going to save our asses. Now find the damn remote!"

  For a moment he wondered if the zombies weren't going to have a chance to kill him. If Aaron would take care of it for them.

  Then the moment passed.

  Aaron muttered something under his breath. Then started looking around for the remote.

  (COME. COME AND KILL.)

  (KILLKILLKILL.)

  11

  SECONDS FELT LIKE MINUTES, and those minutes of the mind shifted in turn to hours and those to lifetimes which all ended in gruesome deaths.

  Or worse than death. In Change.

  No. I'll... I'll....

  Christopher had no end to that sentence. No way of stopping the Change if it came to him. Even killing himself didn't mean he wouldn't come back. Wouldn't return as something horrible. Something neither dead nor alive.

  So just live, dumbass.

  Don't curse, Maggie doesn't like it. Not good for the girls.

  He knew he was panicking. Turning over the detritus that littered the room, jerky movements he hardly recognized as his own.

  Where am I?

  The question wasn't one of location. It was one of identity. Where was the wise-cracking, nothing-can-bother-me person he had been when all this had started?

  Disappeared when you killed your baby, man. Or at least put an axe in her head.

  Then he felt something under a magazine. Rectangular. Hard. Soft plastic buttons.

  And suddenly all the terror fell away, if only for a moment. He knew what it was before he pulled it out.

  The remote.

  "Hells to the yeah," he muttered.

  Aaron looked at him. "What now?"

  Christopher felt some of his glee disappear.

  (COME. CLOSE. CLOSE.)

  (ALMOST HERE.)

  12

  CHRISTOPHER RAN BACK through the mangled door to the wet room – the room with the toilets, the shower, a few other necessities of life.

  Mo was there, his hands being wrapped by Theresa, of all people. She looked almost apologetic as Christopher stuttered to a stop near her. "I couldn't just let this guy bleed," she rasped. "Besides," she gestured at Amulek, who was standing near with her with a machete at the ready. "He didn't really give me a choice."

  "Right. Whatever." Christopher didn't have time to deal with that. He turned to Mo. "I need a cell phone, some electrical tape, and an iPod."

  Mo managed a look of surprise through his pain. "You plan to play music into the hereafter?"

  "Mo, as much as I love listening to you sound wise and mystical –"

  (COME.)

  (COME NOW.)

  "– I really don't have time for it."

  Mo looked at Amulek. Then at Theresa and Aaron. The expression on his face was clear.

  Christopher shook his head. "They're not going to try anything."

  "How do you know, e kare?"

  "Because they know we're dead no matter what, unless whatever I'm planning works."

  "And will it work?"

  "I sure as hell hope so."

  Mo gestured at Amulek. He moved back toward the front of the bunker.

  Aaron went to Mo's side, helping Theresa with the man's wounds.

  "You're the guy who shot me," said the cowboy. Christopher wondered if a small fight was about to break out.

  "Yes," said Mo.

  Instead of a fight, Aaron grunted. "Hell of a shot." He touched his shoulder, and Christopher realized the cowboy hadn't favored it in the least in the last minutes. He almost shivered. Sometimes Aaron didn't seem human.

  No. Ken doesn't seem human. Aaron just seems creepy.

  Mo grunted as well. "You also, cowboy."

  Surprisingly, when Aaron tied off the final bandage around Mo's hands, he was smiling. Then the two seemed to be grinning like a pair of fools, apparently bound as brothers by their ability to murder one another at great distance.

  The world's gone insane.

  Then Amulek was back.

  He handed Christopher what he had asked for.

  What he hoped would keep them alive.

  13

  HE PUT IT ALL TOGETHER quickly. The slowest parts were cracking open the remote and stripping the wires out of the iPod's earbuds. The other things – wiring the cell phone battery to the remote's circuit board and cross-wiring the circuit board itself – those were the work of only moments.

  Which was good, because moments were all they had.

  "What is it?" asked Aaron.

  Christopher permitted himself a grin. "What, they don't teach this in special forces rodeo clown cowboy school?" Then, before Aaron could growl out a reply or simply murder him, he looked at Amulek. "Go get Hope."

  "Do you think that a wise idea, e kare?" said Mo. "I have been... hearing things. In my mind." He hesitated. "I know you will think this mad, but –"

  "It's the girls. We know. You're late to the party on that one, Mo." Christopher looked at Aaron. "Go with him. Get her here. Fast. Buck's with her and he's going to put up a fight. I need you to... convince him to let her come here with you."

  "I get to take a poke at that sourpuss?" said Aaron. He cracked the knuckles of his good hand. "My pleasure."

  "But I need him to come here as well. Conscious. It's important. Critical. Like, it's the best way to know if we're going to die or not."

  "So I gotta bring the crazy alien girl and the guy who doesn't want to come along. Gotcha."

  "Aaron," said Christopher as Amulek turned toward the kitchen, where Buck and Hope were confined. The cowboy turned back. "If you kill her, we're still going to die." He waved the contraption he had cobbled together. "This is it. This is our only hope. And I can prove it, but I don't have time right now. So if you screw around with this, we're all going to die. And I think... I think so will everyone who's still left in whatever's left of the world."

  Aaron nodded.

  Left.

  Christopher went back to the final touches on what he had put together.

  Please let this work.

  14

  CHRISTOPHER HEARD THE hatch to the kitchen open.

  (COME TO ME

  COME TO ME

  COME TO ME)

  The sound increased in his mind, a raw shriek that nearly pushed him off his feet. He saw it hit the others as well, saw it drive Theresa to her knees.

  (COME TO ME

  COME NOW

  COME –)

  He hit the "Volume Up" button on the TV remote.

  (– now come now....)

  He saw Theresa blinking. Saw Mo looking around like he was in a daze.

  Short range. I'm not affected, but Mo and Theresa still are. There's just a small bubble around me.

  He heard a struggle.

  Realized he couldn't wait for Aaron and Amulek to deal with Buck and the seven-year-old the big man was protecting.

  Instead, he ran to them.

  15

  HE HEARD TWIN THUDS behind him. Theresa and Mo falling back as he left their presence.

  That was fine. He was leaving them at the mercy of the shout/screech/shriek. But he was going to kill the source.

  He hoped.

  He ran down the small passage. Saw Aaron struggling with Buck as Amulek did his best to hold onto a screaming, flailing ball of arms and legs and hands and feet that moved so fast it could barely be made out as Hope. Saw them struggling as well with the scream that had to be incredibly intense at the positions they had taken – standing right on top of the source: the little girl.

  (Help!

  Help!

  help.

  hel....)

  Christopher came within five feet of them. And as he did, Hope slumped. Buck weaved on his feet, then fell as well.

  Aaron shook his head. Looked at his hands as though he had just witnessed a stunning magic trick: Now you see the big homicidal ex-construction worker, now you don't!

  "What just happened?" he said.

  Christopher shook his head. "No time to explain. Grab those two,"
he said, pointing at Hope and Buck with his free hand. His other gripped the jury-rigged remote.

  "We've got to hurry."

  16

  HE MOVED QUICKLY, BUT didn't run. Hard not to –

  (How close are the things? How close are the hordes?

  Are they still even coming our way?)

  – but he managed to restrain himself to a fast walk. He had to make sure Aaron and Amulek stayed close. Very close. He didn't know what would happen if Hope went out of range of his little gizmo, but....

  Probably not good.

  "Stay close."

  "How close?" asked Aaron. Amulek didn't speak. The kid hadn't spoken a word since Christopher had known him.

  "Make me your new best friend, Aaron."

  "Gotcha."

  He caught Amulek looking at him. Raised eyebrow. Me, too?

  "No. Buck's not as important. Just Hope has to stay close."

  I hope.

  He didn't add that last. And even managed not to gulp a la Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons.

  They entered the wet room. Theresa had managed to lean Mo against a cot. And as they entered Christopher heard something.

  (Come. Come. I'm alone.

  Easier now.

  Maybe the Other gone.

  Maybe the Other dead.

  Come.)

  The voice in his head was that second one. That strange one that was the same one he had been hearing all this time. But also different. Unique.

  Lizzy.

  "Stay close," he said again to Aaron. Unnecessary, since he could practically feel the cowboy's breath on his cheek.

  He turned his attention to Theresa. "How is he?" he asked, gesturing at Mo.

  "He'll live." She furrowed her brow. "I think."

  Christopher gestured at Amulek. "Help her," he said. "Get everyone in the kitchen and get ready to close the hatch in a hurry.

  Amulek nodded.

  (Almost here.

  Good.

  Good.

  Goooood.)

  Christopher didn't wait to see if his instructions would be carried out. They either would, or people would die.