The Apocalypse Five (Archive of the Five Book 1)

by Stacey Rourke

  “Thank you, Doc. I’m sorry we’ve been such a drain on your resources.” Detroit rubbed a vigorous hand over her face, trying to chase away her exhaustion hangover. “We’re going to do our best to be out of your hair as soon as—"

  The doctor didn’t wait for Detroit to finish her thought. Tossing her hand towel in a bin by the door, she strode down the wall without a glance back.

  Her expression one of confusion, Detroit stared after her. “Did I finish my sentence? Honestly, I’m so tired I don’t even know.”

  Back against the wall, Houston folded his arms over his chest. “We all are. But, we have to get far away from these people and fast. They’ve done nothing but help us. We can’t let that hospitality get them killed.”

  Tucking strands of her chin-length bob behind her ears, Detroit bobbed her head in agreement. “The Air Walkers will be lining the shoreline come morning, if they aren’t already, to get their hands on Adalyn. We’re going to have to steal a dingy, paddle it around the second ship, then head farther downstream before we go ashore.”

  When Houston stifled a yawn, his mahogany gaze was bloodshot from lack of sleep. “Before sun rise would be best. It’s harder to shoot a target you can’t see.”

  “Unless they have night vision goggles,” Auggie added with a shrug. Seated on the floor, he tucked one leg under him.

  “They struggle for food and water, but they have night vision goggles?” Detroit hitched one brow in his direction.

  Auggie peered up at her from under his brow. “They had a grenade launcher.”

  “Good point.” Rolling her shoulders, Detroit tried to tug on her warrior façade. Exhaustion, mixed with longing thoughts of her cozy bed back aboard the AT-1-NS, made it a more confining fit than ever. “We need to check on the baby, and let Leif and Remi know we’re leaving.”

  Dragging his tongue over his top teeth, Houston took it upon himself to point out the obvious. “They’re going to want to stay with us, so we can protect the baby.”

  “They can’t!” Detroit barked, suddenly recharged by outrage. “Where we’re going—whatever is going to happen—if they really want to keep that baby safe they need to keep her as far from us as possible.”

  “They said they might be able to find sanctuary at the caves. And, we don’t know where the Fortress is,” Reno injected in his flat, detached timbre. Sitting on the floor, with one knee bent, he fiddled with the buckles of his boots. “We could help them get there, in exchange for them pointing us in the direction of our public execution.”

  “I like it better when you’re broody and stoic,” Auggie grumbled. He caught one lock of his dread-hawk, twirled it around his finger, and let it spring back into place.

  “He’s right.” Detroit locked stares with Houston, seeing her own resolve reflected back in the pools of his gaze. “We get them to the caves, they point us to the Fortress. That’s really as far as we can take them, and the limits to any safety we can offer.”

  “When do we leave?” The words rumbled from Houston’s chest, gruff as a gravel path laid for the tumultuous journey ahead.

  “As soon as she’s able,” Reno spoke on his sister’s behalf, nodding toward the med-bay door.

  “I see no other option, so … let’s do it.” Bringing her hands together in a sharp clap, Detroit pushed off the wall she had been leaning against. “We’ll go talk to the sequestered family. Reno, stay with your sister. The minute she’s alert enough to travel, come and get us.”

  Reno let his head thump back against the wall, filled his lungs, and exhaled his response. “Like I would leave her side.”

  Detroit glanced to Houston, gathering strength from him pushing off the wall to take his place at her side. “Everyone, catch any sleep you can. God willing, before daybreak, our death march begins.”

  ***

  The sounds of chatter and folk songs wafted from the furnace room. While Detroit had never had the standard definition of a home, that was what she imagined it sounded like. That merry melody strengthened her determination. If the Floaters had found hope and happiness in this bleak existence, that needed to be cherished and protected like the last living flower in an arid oasis.

  “Down here.” Cutting in front of Houston, Detroit steered them down a service hall that had once been used to keep the overflowing buffets stocked when the ship was full of bloated vacationers. “Tatum said the back way in is more discreet.”

  “Aw,” Auggie’s nose crinkled in disappointment, “I wanted to see if they had any more of that furnace fish left. It might not sound appealing, but that was delicious. So much fresher than what we got on the AT-1-NS. Probably because there are no fish in space.”

  “No,” Houston rumbled, plucking the same thought from his team leader’s head, “we’ve taken too much from these people already.”

  Stopping in front of the arched door, Detroit rapped with her first two knuckles.

  “I’ve got this room blocked off for the night,” Tatum’s voice came muffled from inside. “Doing an intensive food inventory.”

  “It’s us,” Detroit uttered, cheek pressed to the cold steel hatch.

  Scurried steps were followed by the door creaking open. Stepping aside, Tatum waved them in and cast a glance down the hall to make sure they weren’t followed. “How is Juneau? Is she going to be okay? I’ve never seen anything like that before. Have you? Was that commonplace for the five of you? Is that how the starship forced you to obey?”

  Houston’s eyebrows raised to meet the mass of curls at his hairline. “Wow, that was a lot of questions in record time.”

  “And all without taking a breath,” Auggie added with audible awe.

  Leaving them to deal with the Q and A, Detroit skirted around to the family hunkered in the corner. Remi sat in a nest of old blankets, with her legs curled under her. Nestled in the crook of her mama’s arm, Adalyn was content and suckling. Leif laid on his hip beside them, ready to hop up and tend to any whim of his two ladies.

  “How’s she doing?” Detroit kept her tone hushed out of respect for the baby’s long, tired blinks.

  Face aglow with maternal pride, Remi beamed up her. “Fantastic. She wants to eat pretty much every hour on the hour, but I am taking that as a very good sign.”

  “It does make it a tad harder to get any rest,” Leif chuckled, tenderly rubbing his palm over the peach-fuzz of Adalyn’s head. “Thankfully, Tatum brought us food and water, and sneaks us to the facilities when she can. Did you know they rigged it to have running water here? How amazing is that?”

  “It’s all … pretty amazing.” After a brief sigh of relief, Detroit’s thoughts took a sharp left back to their harsh reality. “I hate to press a dark matter in the first moment of calm you’ve had since she was born, but how far from her forty-eight-hour marker are we?”

  Remi’s hold tightened on Adalyn. If the will of her love could drive back threats, death itself would not dare come for that treasured child. “We don’t have clocks, or anyway to know for certain. If I had to guess, and I do, she’s about a day and a half old. I’ve watched the sunrise once since she was born, and we are … what? About ten hours away from another? If my ability to tell one day from another is correct—and that’s a big if—she’s somewhere between thirty-six and thirty-eight hours old.”

  “That should mean she’s in the clear, right?” Feared darkened Leif’s stare to the hue of midnight on a cloudless night. “If something were going to happen, we would have seen signs by now. Wouldn’t we?”

  More than anything in the galaxy, Detroit wanted to say yes. Unfortunately, her mouth suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton—the truth being all she could force from her constricted throat. “I honestly don’t know. I truly hope so.”

  Something flashed in Remi’s eyes that resembled pity. Pity for the young soldiers thrown into battle, without the benefit of fully understanding who it was they were fighting. “We wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for your team.” The new mom attempted
to pacify the ache of the team’s burden with a gentle smile. “Just so you know, God forbid the worst happens, I got to spend the last two days with Adalyn. Without you, those precious moments never would have happened. Now that they have, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. No matter what happens from here, you have our endless thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” Detroit mumbled, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  Remi’s eyes narrowing at the team leader’s tense posture, she flipped her high ponytail of thick rope braids over her shoulder. “It occurs to me that someone of your station doesn’t normally make time for social calls or squeeze in baby snuggles. Add to that the fact that Tatum charged in here pale as the lunar surface and profusely sweating, and it’s pretty apparent something is up. How about if you save us all some time and skip right to whatever it is that’s making that angry looking vein throb in your temple?”

  Fighting against her own fatigue and fear, Detroit forced a confident tone even she didn’t find convincing. “Come sunrise, the Air Walkers are going to line that shore and demand we turn Adalyn over. My guess? They’ll go with the obvious threat of sinking these ships to the ocean floor. But, who knows, maybe they’ll surprise me and get creative. For the sake of all parties involved, we can’t give them that opportunity. When that time comes, Tatum and her crew need to be able to tell the Air Walkers we’re long gone. They can even invite them aboard long enough to confirm it.”

  “Then they find your team in hiding and you take them all out?” Leif prompted. Sitting up, he crossed his legs under him.

  Auggie stabbed a finger in Leif’s direction. “I like where his head is at! Loads of enthusiasm! But, no. That scenario could get us all killed, and that’s pretty much the opposite of our agenda at all times. Still,” he gave two fist bumps over his heart in appreciation, “much love for thinking we could take out a whole clan.”

  Houston’s mouth fell into a downward C as he stared out of the porthole, contemplating that claim. “I mean … we could.”

  Rolling his eyes, Auggie’s shoulder’s sagged. “I know we could. I was trying to dial down the whole unstoppable death squad motif. But thanks for the half-assed assist.”

  “As I was saying,” Detroit talked over their idiotic ramble, “they can be allowed to search the ships without hesitation, because we won’t be aboard either. If Tatum would let us take two of their dinghies, we will paddle south of here before sunrise. We’ll take you to the cave sanctuary you were heading to, then trek on to the Fortress.”

  Silence.

  Wetting her lips, a confused scowl stitched across Tatum’s brow as the fleet commodore injected herself in the conversation. “And what happens to all of you after that?”

  There it was.

  The one question all of the A-5 training and conditioning couldn’t answer.

  Unable to concoct a believable lie, Detroit opted for the ugly truth. “The AT-1-NS has demanded our surrender. We will secure your safety, then turn ourselves in.”

  “Oh hell no!” The adamant shakes of Tatum’s head caused platinum locks of hair to tumble from her loose top-knot. “I watched what happened up on that deck! That shit was jarring in a way that will haunt me the remainder of my days. There is no way the Floaters are going to stand back and let you turn yourselves over to them without a fight.”

  Features softening, Detroit turned on her heel toward the indignant captain. “We have done nothing but bring trouble raining down on all of you. As much as we appreciate your kindness, let it end here. Whatever our reputation is, we’re no heroes. The starship dangled us like the proverbial carrot of your salvation, meanwhile you’ve been fighting to survive. Let us go. And, hopefully, the fantasy that is the Apocalypse Five will die along with us.”

  Taking a bold step closer, Tatum jammed her hands onto her narrow hips. “Maybe the reason you haven’t earned that hero title yet is because you haven’t truly been given the opportunity. Well, guess what, kids? Here it is. Fun little side note about heroics? They don’t have to be solo acts. You want to get Juneau within the boundaries of the Fortress? Okay, that’s our plan. But you’re not doing it alone. With all of the able-bodied soldiers of the Floaters behind you, we’ll storm that fort together. That coward Washington will have no choice but to come down and face us himself.”

  At a loss for words, Detroit glanced to Houston and Augusta. Bewildered shrugs were their only response. “As kind as that is, we can’t ask you to do that.”

  “That’s the great thing about allies.” Tatum grinned, flames of war smoldering behind her eyes. “You don’t have to ask.”

  Chapter 18

  Moonlight glimmered in through the porthole, acting as a nightlight in Leif and Remi’s hidden lodgings. Curled up on their nest of blankets, the new parents slept on their sides to cocoon Adalyn in their love.

  The only other light came from a camping lantern positioned by the door. Beside it, Houston paced a trench into the floor. The clomp of his boots provided the soundtrack to his festering annoyance.

  “If you’re going to keep doing that, can you at least change direction?” Auggie asked. Laying on his back, one arm was thrown over his eyes. “The motion of the ship isn’t making me seasick. But you are.”

  “I just don’t understand what she could possibly be thinking!” Houston spun in Auggie’s direction, as if he had been waiting for someone—anyone—to unleash on. “Usually, I can tap into the wavelength of her strategy. It might take a little guess work, but I get there. Not this time. I have no clue.”

  Resigned to the fact that his high-strung teammate had no intention of letting him sleep, Auggie pushed himself up onto one elbow. “I’m sorry, she? Who were we talking about?”

  “Detroit!” Houston threw his hands in the air, letting them fall to his sides with a slap. “She’s actually thinking of taking a small camp of untrained civilians into battle? That’s the equivalent of a death march. She might as well line them all up and take them out execution style. At least that would be the merciful route!”

  Face blank of emotion, Auggie blinked up at him. “And this is … Detroit that’s doing this?”

  Thrown off his rant by the repeated question, Houston pulled up short. “Yes, Detroit. Are you messing with me?”

  Holding up his thumb and forefinger, Auggie pinched the air between them. “Little bit. Because, soldier boy, if you have a problem with our team leader, take it up with … our team leader. That way I can get some sleep!” Like she was cued by his sassy retort, Detroit picked that moment to crack open the door. “Oh, look, there she is now. May I suggest you two quietly discuss your issues? Because I am newly sober, about ten hours past the point of exhaustion, and roughly ten minutes away from making my inner monologue public.”

  Easing the door shut behind her until it quietly clicked, Detroit cringed in Auggie’s direction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that sounds terrifying,” she said in a hushed whisper. “What’s up, fellas?”

  Houston needed no further invitation to unleash. “What’s up is that our team leader has lost her damned mind. Are you kidding me, Dee? Taking the Floaters into battle is nothing short of cruel. We can’t do that to them.”

  Slumping back to the floor, Auggie rolled onto his side. “If you two could rage a little quieter, that would be swell.”

  Houston didn’t pause long enough for Detroit to responded. Resuming his stride, he curled his hands into white knuckled fists. “There’s no nice way to put it. You include the Floaters in this, and they’ll get themselves killed.”

  Detroit squeezed her eyes shut, and dragged her fingers through her hair. “I convinced one person not to do something stupid tonight. I don’t think I have the energy to do it again.”

  “Your meeting with Tatum?” Houston pressed. Noticing Leif stirring, he dropped his voice and inched closer to his teammates.

  Back pressed to the wall, Detroit sank to the floor. “These people know how to survive, not fight.
I can’t sound the trumpets of war with them beside us.”

  With an exasperated groan, Auggie shoved himself back into the conversation. “So, we’re taking the noble route then? Fantastic. What’s the plan?”

  “Tatum was worried about her brother, that horrible Nicoli guy, making a scene if she publicly announced the call of support for our cause. There is a whole lot of family drama there that blew this little orphan’s minds. Regardless, it worked in our favor. I suggested she spread the word quietly, in a more one-on-one, grapevine approach. It will take her until morning to reach all of her people that way. That buys us much needed time.” Locking stares with Houston, Detroit caught a glimpse of absolute understanding in his mahogany smolder that made the breath catch in her throat. “When the majority of the ship is asleep, we move with our previous mission. Two boats, paddling downstream.”

  The winds of outrage stolen from his sails, Houston deflated. “So, we’re facing this fight alone?”

  Elbows on her knees, Detroit’s hands hung limp between them. “Just as it was always intended.”

  ***

  As the paddles sliced through the water with gentle laps, moonlight glittered off its rolling surface. In one boat sat the new family, Reno, and a still groggy Juneau. In the other, Houston, Detroit, and Auggie took their places at the oars.

  Only when the colossal ships shrank in the distance, did Detroit break the mandatory silence with her desperate plea. “Auggie, if you have a flask hidden anywhere—and I mean anywhere on your person—you will become my favorite person in the universe if you let me have a drink. I need something to warm me up.”

  “Would if I could, mon capitaine.” Auggie cringed, plunging his paddle in for another stroke. “Believe me when I say I’m regretting my cold turkey method as much as you.”

  Hugging her arms over her chest, Detroit rubbed her frozen hands up and down her arms in a desperate search for warmth. She tipped her chin over her shoulder, peering back at Auggie from her seat at the front of the rowboat. “If I haven’t said it before, I’m proud of you for making this change.”