The Apocalypse Five (Archive of the Five Book 1)

by Stacey Rourke

  “I thought you were dead,” she managed to utter.

  “I know.”

  “I was pissed.”

  “I know that, too.” The smile died on his lips, chased away by equal parts frustration and desire. “As soon as this is over, we’ll find a nice hot spring and I’ll make it up to you. Audience be damned.” Extending his hand in Auggie’s direction, he nodded toward the grenade launcher strapped to his back.

  “I’m already there,” Detroit seconded, clicking off the safety of both her guns.

  “Hell, me too!” Ducking out of the strap of the weapon, Auggie bestowed the weapon like he was handing Excalibur to King Arthur. “First, I believe a little payback is in order.”

  “Orion’s Belt it is.” Eagerly accepting it, Houston weighed it in his palms.

  “No! This will not stand!” Seizing Juneau by the arm, Boston yanked her to his side as if she were a bargaining chip he could use buy their servitude. “Under the authorization of the governing power of the Starship At-1-NS, I order you to stand down! Shooters, fire at will! Take them out!”

  Pressing the butt of the launcher to his shoulder, Houston peered down the scope and squeezed the trigger. A rush of air, then another. Two rapid fire shots sent grenades sailing for the gate. They exploded with a thunderous boom that shook the earth beneath their feet. The rusted metal imploded inward, raining shrapnel into the compound. The support beam that held the gate on its track cracked, folding inward on a collision course with the ground. That loss of support caused the scaffolding to list to the side and spill off all that stood on it.

  Houston swung the grenade launcher onto his back, grabbed an assault rifle in each hand, and blazed a trail through the burning rubble. “If you want your lives back, follow me.”

  Holding fast to their weapons, the freedom-seeking clans followed Houston’s blaze of glory like he was the God of War sent to avenge them.

  “Huh,” Auggie snorted in appreciation. “Look at him striding in there like a superhero. You may have some competition for his attention when this is over. I know if I was down with that, I’d make a play.”

  “Same here,” Reno admitted, cracking an almost smile. “Now, let’s go save my sister.”

  Chapter 24

  Since their world began to crumble around them, the Land Dwellers resorted to scavenging for the things they needed or could use to survive. One thing they always grabbed whenever they stumbled upon them were guns and weapons. Some clans hoarded them, others used them as currency to trade to those that valued them. Them being armed to the teeth wasn’t a new development. For as long as they could remember, they lived in fear of ever acting on thoughts of rebellion. Even whispers of such notions could have extreme consequences. Nicoli found that out after his parents were killed. So enraged was he that the “humanoids” killed them while the Fortress did nothing, he attempted to wrangle some of his friends and storm the gate to demand answers. They plotted in secret, behind closed doors in hushed whispers. Still, rumors of their plans reached the fortsmen. The result, after Nicoli’s cohorts pointed the finger at him to save their own skin, was three ribs broken and a deepened vendetta.

  There was no short supply of stories similar to that, of the Fortress asserting its power and position by violent means when anyone dared to test them. It left the people wound tight and volatile, like the bundles of TNT Juneau painstakingly created. The A-5 storming the Fortress barracks acted as the long overdue spark that sizzled down the wick of oppression and unleashed an explosion of fury.

  While the team led the charge into the compound, the blaze of rebellion quickly raged above and beyond them. Before Houston could take his shot at an inbound soldier, a Floater emptied three chambers into his target’s chest. Detroit took aim at a sharpshooter on a remaining portion of the scaffolding when Nicoli blew out the guy’s kneecap and sent him pinwheeling over the edge.

  Finding themselves acting as defense to the intense storm of Land Dwellers, the team huddled together and provided cover to the other insurgents when it was needed. All the while, Reno searched for signs of his sister. In the center of the compound sat two long brick buildings with peaked glass roofs that ran the length of both. A streak of red bolting toward the southernmost building snapped his head in that direction.

  “Juneau’s over there!” Reno hollered, his gun-toting arm sagging.

  “Go after her!” the reverend called, stalking alongside Boston as he attempted to army crawl away with a hunk of rebar jutting from his thigh. “We’ve got this.”

  The team hung back for a beat, their training screaming at them never to leave civilians in a live ammo fight.

  “What would your God think of you now?” Boston sneered up at them with blood and soot smeared across his face. “You’re no better than us.”

  Crouching down, with her gun balanced on her knee, the reverend considered him with a tilt of her head. “God tells us to have faith like a child; loving, and trusting without question. You exploited that innocent purity for personal gain. I can’t think of a viler crime.”

  “What about murder?” Boston tried to scoot away on his elbows. Any ground he made was easily recovered by a simple side-shuffle by the reverend. “How will your faith justify that?”

  Shoulders sagging, her stare swept over him in a cursory inspection of his wounds. “One bad thing about the limited supplies we’ve been forced to live with? Something as simple as an infection can turn deadly without the proper antibiotics. And, as you know, the people here are contaminated.” Leaning over him, the reverend spat on to his wound. She rocked back on her heels, clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and shook her head. “I’m sorry to say you’re now infected by an ailment that, according to your people, can only be cured aboard the A1-1-NS. That makes this a mercy kill.”

  Pulling a Ruger from the back of her belt, the reverend pressed it to his temple, and erased him from the archives with a fatal pop.

  As the body of the once exalted warrior slumped to the ground, she peered up at the hovering A-5. “Why are you still here? Go!”

  Houston’s elbow bumped Detroit’s rib, prodding her forward. “Auggie and I will clear the barracks. You and Reno go get our girl.”

  Gunfire boomed on all sides. Bodies fell in clouds of gore and debris. Scorched embers from the grenade strike still smoldered by the gate. In the face of all this, Houston wanted to leave her … again.

  “I just got you back,” she shouted to be heard over the roaring chaos.

  Houston’s forearm landed on her shoulder, using her as a brace to level a shot at an inbound fortsman. Detroit had enough time to pull her head away, before he fired off the shot that would have left her ears ringing for weeks to come.

  Their route temporarily cleared, he hooked one hand around the small of her back. When he crushed her body to his, his ebony waves fell across his forehead as he dipped his head to claim a long awaited kiss. One he had missed out on too many times before. Pulling back, he pressed his forehead to hers as they both struggled to steady their breathing. “There isn’t a force on this planet powerful enough to tear me away from you again. Now, as you were, soldier.”

  Dropping his arm, he snapped into an official A-5 salute.

  Her heart thudding against her ribs, Detroit returned the gesture then glanced to Reno. “I didn’t see which direction she went. Lead the way.”

  The pair kept low to the ground, seeking cover behind the corner of the first building until a sufficient lull bought them enough time to dart for the second. Fears of a coded entrance were put to rest when they were able to wrench open the door with ease and escape inside.

  All sounds of the skirmish outside died away the instant the intricately carved walnut door banged shut behind them, sealing them inside. For a moment, neither Detroit nor Reno could do anything but stare. Outside, the buildings were worn and tattered shells—shadows of what they had once been, much like everything else in this desolate world. Inside, was another matter. Jaws swingin
g slack, they marveled at the posh display that bore a striking similarity to that found aboard the starship. The walls were painted in a crisp eggshell hue that glistened thanks to the extravagant silver chandelier, dripping with crystals, that hung overhead. A sofa and loveseat upholstered in a lush, neutral pallet welcomed all that entered into the expansive foyer. Cozy throw pillows, and a handwoven rug of beige and orange, added homey touches that would have made this the perfect place to curl up with a book … if people weren’t dying mere feet away.

  “What … am I looking at?” Reno managed, struggling to pick his jaw up off the floor.

  “This, is the luxurious life offered for those seated at the right hand of the devil.” Rocking back on her heel, Detroit peered across the foyer into what appeared to be the commissary. From where she stood she could see a silver and glass salad bar complete with fresh greens, fruits, and decadent desserts. “From the looks of it, selling your soul pays well.”

  Springing into action, Reno launched himself down the narrow hall to the left. “Come on, she’s this way!”

  Detroit sprinted to catch up, easily matching his stride. “Is this, like, one of those twin things?” The extra guns and ammo strapped to her back clapped against her sides, keeping time with her gait.

  Not slowing, Reno tipped his chin her way to allow her to feel the full effects of his you’re a moron scowl. “No. I just saw a door slide shut behind her at the end of this hall.”

  “Or, that,” Detroit mused, eyebrows lifting as she shrugged.

  Their footfalls echoed off the cement block walls, until they found themselves facing a sliding door activated by a fingerprint recognition. Glancing up from the daunting device, the pair exchanged uneasy glances.

  “Here goes nothing. It works on the starship. Let’s hope they share security clearances, along with their complete lack of morals.” Filling her lungs, Detroit held her breath and pressed her hand to the pad.

  Much to their surprise, it gave a trilling chirp and the door shushed open.

  Detroit raised her rifle to her shoulder, and craned her neck to see into the dimly lit room. “There’s a shot in the dark that paid off. I can honestly say I didn’t think that would work.”

  She started to inch over the threshold, only to be halted by Reno’s hand on her arm. “Wait.”

  Her gaze shifted from his face to his hand, and back again. “Okay, but I should probably point out that she’s your sister. That girl leaves her wet towel on the gym floor all the time. The longer we wait, the less I can promise to fight for her with the same vigor you would.”

  So intent was he on peering into the unknowns of the ominous room, that her joke sailed right over his fuzzy red head. “Who do you think they view as their real enemy here? The clans that have kowtowed to them for years, or the five kids who just blew a hole in their Fortress?”

  Taking his words to heart, Detroit’s stare flicked over the door casing. “I hear what you’re saying, and I’m now fearing a giant anvil is going to fall on my head. So, our option is to tiptoe in there knowing full well we’re walking into a trap?”

  Jaw tensing, Reno flipped sunset-orange curls from his eyes. “Exactly. Heads up, and watch out for flaming arrows.”

  “Worst motivational speech ever.” Lips pursed tight, Detroit pressed her back to the wall and slunk across the gray slate floor in silent stealth. Reno stayed close behind her, keeping the sight of his Glock on a constant swivel for potential threats. No swinging blades dropped down from above. A giant, killer bug didn’t click across the floor to devour them. Instead, they were met by a still silence and the occasional beeps and pings. Rounding a corner, the space opened up into a control room filled with terminals, computer screens, and frosted glass panels with various digital projections flashing across their surface.

  The trepidation Detroit should have been feeling was replaced by fascinated curiosity. Weapon toting hands falling to her sides, she approached the circuit boards of different color flashing lights and buttons. The tips of her fingers met cold steel, as she dragged them across the edge in her search for answers. It was only thanks to her specialty in engineering and weaponry that she could decipher some of what she was seeing.

  An intricate modem for a satellite communications system.

  Power board for the entire compound.

  What appeared to be a tracking device similar to air-traffic control. Which she guessed monitored each and every time the A-5 pods came and went.

  What she didn’t understand was the glass wall, and the topographical maps that kept fading in and out across the cloudy glass. Eyes narrowing, she studied the lines and grids, tilting her head to make sense of them.

  “Detroit?” Reno rasped from across the room.

  “Are you getting what all of this is?” Detroit began in an awestruck whisper that soon bloomed to an excited ramble. “I think … No, it is! It’s different grids of this entire area, broken down into those belonging to each individual clan. This is how they’ve been finding us, Reno! This is how they tracked us to the Floaters’ ship. They must use this grid to monitor everything, then their communication system sends it right up to the At-1-NS. This is it! This is their tether to Earth! With this, we could …”

  Spinning around, her words trailed off—the revelation tarnished by the sight of Juneau. Tears zigzagging over her peaches and cream cheeks, she held the barrel of taser set to kill to her temple.

  “Juneau … June-bug, what are you doing?” One hand outstretched, Reno edged closer to his twin.

  Her pert face crumbled, sending a fresh wave of tears spilling from her lashes. Still, his sister failed to utter a word of explanation.

  “It’s that damned implant.” Detroit dragged her tongue over her top teeth, searching her backlog of information for what she knew about the device.

  “That it is,” a crackling voice added. Washington’s face flickered to life from a projection module atop the center terminal. “I feel I should add, Juneau can’t come to the phone right now. She’s busy holding her finger on that trigger as per my request. When I see fit, she’s prepared to deliver 30,000 amps—the equivalent of a lightning strike for those that are interested—directly into her gray matter.”

  Hands balled into fists, Reno lurched toward the projection only to be blocked by Detroit’s arm. Though, if she was being honest, she had no idea why she held him back. What was the worst he could do to a 3-D hologram?

  “What do you want, Washington?” Detroit hissed, hoping hearing him out would placate the chancellor into letting Juneau go.

  Image crackling, he pursed his lips in mock interest. “What do I want? Young miss, when it comes to you and your team the only thing I want is your complete eradication. I thought casting you down to that abysmal wasteland would be punishment enough. But, no. You had to rile everyone up and threatened all that I’ve built. You’re making me regret my moment of mercy. Which, I fully intend to correct.”

  “It wasn’t mercy.” Releasing her hold on Reno, Detroit took her own threatening step forward. Her top lip curled into a venomous snarl. “People heard the gunshot and would dutifully coming running. You couldn’t think of any way to justify our mass murder, which left you with the lone option of letting us go. Oh, but not before you painted us as the villains. Let’s not forget that fun added bonus. Now, no one aboard the starship will bat an eye as you pick us off one by one.”

  “Don’t goad him,” Reno warned, peering at the gun in his sister’s trembling hand.

  Venturing closer, Detroit’s boots squeaked across the floor. “But people down here will care. They know you’ve been lying to them, and they’re done, Washington. Done with the subjugation. Done with starving while you fill your plate. Done … with you.”

  “You think I need them, or your team?” Washington’s right eye twitched with rage. “Juneau, click off the safety, if you please.”

  Honoring his request because she had no choice, a whimper escaped Juneau’s clamped lips. Torrents of tears
dripped from her chin as she clicked the button that brought the weapon to life with a high-pitched squeal.

  “That screen behind you? That is a satellite grid that allows me to find anyone, anywhere within my dominion. Want to venture out into the nothingness that lies behind that?” Washington challenged with the lift of one brow. “Be my guest. It would save me the hassle of killing you. In the meantime, I think it’s time for a lesson in the potency of my power. There’s nowhere any of you can go that I can’t find, and destroy you. Juneau … pull the trigger.”

  Finally, Juneau found her voice, self-preservation forcing a sob from her quaking shoulders. In spite of her anguish, her finger tightened on the trigger.

  “No!” Reno’s hand shot out, wrestling with if he could tackle his sister, and tear the gun away from her in time.

  “One moment, Juneau.” Washington’s raised finger appeared in the projection in his casual effort to halt her. “This is an excellent teaching moment. You were all raised to be soldiers. To put the mission before all else. Yet, you let yourselves form emotional connections to each other. I hope you see that as the mistake it is, now that you’re faced with how easy it makes it for me to manipulate you. As you were, Juneau.”

  “Please!” Catching her wrist with the opposite hand, Juneau fought against the betrayal of her own appendage.

  “That’s right!” Detroit eagerly agreed. Head whipping in Reno’s direction, the words tumbled from her lips fast and furious. “We’re a team. One that is stronger from each of us having our own strengths and specialties! Like me, I know weapons and engineering. Which means, I’ve studied the mechanics of implants like this. There was a way to short them out.” Fingers outstretched, as if the information was about to float by so she could grab it, Detroit frantically searched her memory.

  As her pleading eyes beseeched her brother, Juneau’s face crumpled. “I’m so sorry,” she hiccupped.