The Renegades (Book 4): Colony

by Jack Hunt

  They never replied.

  “I wish you had felt the need for speed back at the hillbilly camp,” I muttered. “What the hell happened to the Humvee with the battering ram on the front?”

  “We ran out of gas.”

  “You only had to travel a mile,” I replied.

  “Have you seen how fast Humvees drink gasoline?”

  “Would you two shut the fuck up?” one of the officers said.

  “Alright, Maverick,” Baja replied, readjusting his position.

  “No, he’s not Maverick. More like Goose,” I added.

  “Duck, duck, goose.”

  One of them pointed his gun at Baja. “I will pull this trigger, motherfucker.”

  “Oh please, Wolfman, it’s common knowledge that you Air Force boys are all mouth and…”

  Before he could finish the guy slammed the butt of his gun into Baja’s face.

  “Hey, hey. What the fuck,” I said. “He was just playing with you.”

  “You think I’m fucking playing?”

  I had a sweet comeback for that, but I thought these boys had enough. Instead, I bit my lip and tried not to cry with laughter. Meanwhile Baja was sporting a wonky nose and bleeding.

  The truck bumped its way past one of fourteen security entry points. This one had a sign for Gate 12-A. Off to the left was a statue of a jet plane.

  Inside, these folks weren’t messing around. They had armed guards stationed in various points around the perimeter. There was lots of activity. Trucks, jeeps, and people rushing back and forth between one building and the next. We came to find out from one of the friendlier officers that the base was split up into two sections: Area A and Area B. There were eight hundred and fifty facilities with over two thousand people still alive. Now that might sound like a lot but when the workforce was usually around twenty-two thousand, it was clear to see that the Z virus had already worked its way through a large chunk.

  The place was self-sufficient to some extent. They had a gym, surgery, pharmacy and clinics, golf club, gas station, hell, even a taxi service. Not that I could see anyone wanting to hail a cab in an apocalypse.

  We were driven up to a massive, cream-colored, official-looking building with lettering that said:

  UNITED STATES AIR FORCE

  AIR FORCE MATERIEL COMMAND

  HEADQUARTERS

  There were six flags either side of the walkway, flapping in the wind. Each one was a different color with military insignia on it. We were going to be taken to the 88th Air Base Wing, which was the host organization for the base itself.

  When the truck came to a halt, one of them brought down the steel flap and dragged us out.

  “Are the restraints necessary?” Ben asked.

  “Precaution until we get you cleared away.”

  “Cleared away. By that you mean being tucked into a bed and told a goodnight story?” Baja asked. “If so, I’d like to put in a request for The Three Little Pigs. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that one.”

  The officer who had previously slammed him in the face pushed him forward. That was the thing about Baja, the guy didn’t have an off switch.

  We were pushed forward through multiple doors. Military personnel stared at us like we were freaks from a traveling circus. With the amount of facial hair we were sporting it mustn’t have been a pretty sight.

  I really hoped that whoever was in charge of this setup wasn’t a complete dick. I was tired of running into egotistical lunatics carrying a chip on their shoulder. Finally they led us into an auditorium that was filled with computers and screens that were lit up with dots all over them. To anyone who worked here it probably made sense, to us it might as well have been the old Atari Pac-Man game as it was just a confusing display of colors, dots, and movement.

  A tall bald man wearing a dark navy-blue uniform with more badges than the Boy Scouts was engaged in a conversation when we were hustled into the building.

  “Hey, you want to stop shoving us before I shove something up your ass,” I said.

  “Actually I think he would like that,” Baja remarked. It must have been the final straw for the officer who had taken a disliking to us from the moment we’d shown up. He jabbed Baja in the gut hard, which enraged Elijah. While our hands were tied we still put up one hell of a fight.

  “Sergeant Banks, stand down,” the officer in blue bellowed. We now had a name for the prick. Banks. He was obviously lower down the chain of command. The officer approaching us had four silver stars on his shoulders and a gazillion medals on his left chest. Banks scowled at the officer but listened to him.

  “I’m General Jackson. We’ve heard a lot about you. The risk you took to obtain the cure has become quite the conversation piece around here.”

  He relieved the men of their duties. Banks scowled as he walked away.

  “I’m sorry about that, they have been a little high-strung since this outbreak.”

  “You think? Crackheads,” Baja muttered.

  I was about to ask where Jess and Izzy were when a door across from us opened and I spotted them. A sudden rush of hope flooded my being. Now I would like to say that Jess was all smiles, hugs, and kisses. But that wasn’t the case. If the others parting like the Red Sea was any indication of what was coming towards us, it would give you a rough idea of how she looked.

  The first slap she gave was to be expected. The second, was Jess being Jess and the third, well, Izzy stepped in at that point, saving me from being humiliated any further.

  “I think he’s got the point, Jess.”

  I blew out hard, feeling my cheeks sting. “Thanks.”

  Then Izzy turned and slapped me. “That’s for doing that to my friend.”

  Now I certainly wasn’t going to mention Danielle at that point otherwise I would have probably been picking my nuts off the floor, or at least what would have been left of them.

  After which Jess hugged me and planted a kiss that made all the shit before that point melt away for a brief few seconds.

  “Where’s Specs?”

  I pointed to a rucksack and she must have thought we were carrying his ashes. “Radio,” I muttered. “I’ll fill you in later.”

  Izzy’s head bobbed up and down as she looked past us. I knew this was going to be difficult to explain but how much, that I wasn’t sure about.

  “Dax? Is he still outside?” She had a smile on her face as if she’d been waiting to see him again. All our eyes dropped. No words needed to be said. Izzy turned around and walked out of the room.

  “I should go and… God, I’m sorry, Johnny,” Jess said, hugging me again.

  Again I began to feel my eyes welling up. “Yeah, well…” I blew my cheeks out releasing the heaviness in my chest.

  “Jessica, you’ll be able to show your friends to the dorm rooms?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Again, welcome and while you are here, you are our guests. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Baja raised his wrists. “You wanna get these off?”

  “Oh, right. Of course. My apologies, precautions, I’m sure you understand.”

  “Uh-huh,” Elijah muttered.

  Another officer cut the binds and Jess led us out of the command center. She was looking good, healthy, they must have been treating them well. And damn she smelled good. I’d almost forgotten how gorgeous she was.

  “Glad to see you found my message. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,” she said before her eyes drifted over the others.

  “Same here,” I muttered as we followed her over to what I thought was going to be your standard military bunk beds; instead we arrived at building 1216. It was like most of the structures on the air base. It was made from brick and covered in thick cream paint. Inside the rooms were small but comfortable. Compared to the jeep or some of the trashed places we had laid our heads down in, it was luxury. Carpets, a captain’s bed with recliner, desks, chairs, wardrobes, and the one thing we were all
counting on. A shower.

  We must have all smelled like roadkill.

  It was actually odd to see so many people on the way over to the dorms, looking clean and without bags under their eyes. The first order of business was to have a shave and a shower. They had more than enough rooms for all of us, so that we didn’t have to share.

  Jess said she would check back with me later, she was going to check on Izzy and make sure everything was okay. I didn’t think she would take it so hard but Jess had mentioned that Izzy still had strong feelings for Dax. That hadn’t ever changed even if they were apart. I kind of wished they had sorted through their differences. But that wasn’t meant to be.

  The warmth of the water rushing over me as I stood beneath it was invigorating. I looked at the dirt turning clockwise down the drain. A mixture of soil and dried blood. It had become almost like a skin in this new world.

  In the washroom, stripped of clothes and now clean, I gripped the sides of the basin and stared into the mirror. Everything about the place was strikingly different to the world outside. The silence. No snarling or moaning of Z’s was almost disturbing. We’d become so used to the sound of the dead roaming the streets that when we didn’t hear them, we thought there was a problem.

  I used a pair of scissors to cut large chunks of hair from my face before I lathered up with shaving foam and brought a razor out. When the final piece of hair was gone, it was a strange sight. I looked the way I did before all of this had begun, though my hair was longer. I took a few minutes to cut it back.

  As I stood there looking at myself, wondering what was left of the kid from Castle Rock, I realized we weren’t kids anymore. We were forced to grow up fast, pushed into situations we didn’t want to be in. I had lost count of the amount of people I had killed. Their faces randomly came to me in nightmares. How long would they haunt me?

  The door creaked open, I looked in the mirror at Jess standing in the doorway. Her eyes dropped to my naked ass and I smiled. We didn’t exchange words. She came in and closed the door behind her. She turned the shower back on and stripped off. Approaching me from behind she wrapped her warm hands around my waist and placed the side of her face against my back.

  We rested there in that moment for an unknown amount of time.

  I breathed in deeply, feeling our connection again. It wasn’t lost. It had dwindled. Turning into her, I ran my hand around the side of her face and tucked some of the dark hair behind her ear. My heart began thumping in my chest. My fingers drifted down the side of her cheek and tilted her head to the side as I kissed her. Her lips were full and soft. She applied the perfect amount of pressure as we kissed.

  As we broke, I noticed her chest rising and falling faster. Her eyes wandered my face as if surveying what she had missed or hated about me. It was hard to judge her. I’d given her enough reasons to give up and some that I hadn’t even told her about.

  I did wonder in that moment what experiences she’d had since we’d parted. Had she been with anyone else? I wouldn’t have faulted her if she had. None of us knew if we would live to see another day. You didn’t think about relationships in the same way as you did before this. Everything about life now felt carnal, primitive, and driven by a deep urge to feel anything beyond pain, loss or hunger.

  Perhaps I would one day tell her about Danielle. Maybe she would do the same with whomever she had encountered, if anyone. I wasn’t really sure if it mattered now.

  I pushed my body against hers, my arms wrapped around her as I hoisted her up. We stumbled back against the wall and both of us chuckled a little. The room was filling up with steam. Our bodies were no longer clearly seen in the mirror. Her fingers toyed at the base of my neck as we kissed and I felt her tongue slip into my mouth.

  My heart was racing harder, my body charged and ready for her. Every part of me came alive as a wave of desire built inside and her kiss released it.

  “I’ve missed you,” I said into her mouth as the memory of us hit me hard. We made our way over to the shower and stepped beneath the rush of liquid. I pulled the door behind us shut.

  RIKERS

  FROM HEAVEN TO HELL, that was our daily cycle. Moments of bliss smothered by a hellish nightmare that didn’t let up. And once again we were being thrown into the fire. Just we didn’t know it yet.

  Wright-Patterson Air Force Base was a blast while it lasted. Which happened to be all of seventy-two hours. It had given us enough time to recharge our batteries and get our body clock back on a regular schedule, not that it mattered.

  No place had turned out to be permanent. No matter how safe it seemed.

  That day had begun like any other. Morning sex with Jess, warm sheets, and a shower. I couldn’t get enough of it. It all seemed a little too good to be true, and I was right.

  They shuffled us into an auditorium with about one hundred other people and informed us in no uncertain terms that we were all going to be relocated. Whispers and concerned questions spread among the crowd, which in turn led into a whole lot of yelling by the same prick that had been in the truck when we’d been driven onto the base. Sergeant Banks.

  The small amount of information we had managed to squeeze out of them involved something to do with the base becoming a central facility for military only. All the rooms would be required. Civilians were going to be housed elsewhere at one of several colonies. That was the term they used. Colonies. When we protested, we were shut down in a heartbeat. It wasn’t open for discussion, vote, or debate. If anyone objected to it, they were free to leave but the military had made it clear that what was being offered was the closest thing to a safe zone. We would receive food, medication and be able to contribute within a community just like living in any small town.

  There would be showers, two meals a day, and safety behind secure walls that had not been penetrated by the undead. It was hard to argue with that. I only wish they had told us more about where we were going. A man in his late thirties refused to go unless he was told where. He was immediately hustled out by a couple of jarheads.

  We were to leave in two hours for an unknown location. Everyone had been instructed to gather what belongings they had and meet back at the headquarters at zero three hundred hours. Oh, Dax would have loved this. How they loved to throw out their military terminology and bark orders. I had to wonder how many of them had been under the microscope at school. The thrill of telling others what to do seemed to give them a real hard-on.

  Returning to our dorms, I packed my oversized luxury suitcase with one shiny toothbrush and a spare pair of underpants. Of course, these were the two essentials that every well-prepared warrior packed when facing the unknown.

  Okay, I admit it. I left there with the clothes on my back, nothing more.

  Outside the weather was cold and wet, we were now well into the winter months and already beginning to feel an icy chill. In front of the headquarters the military guys were having a hard job sorting through who was going where. Some were late showing up, causing even more grief.

  Now I don’t know what it is about these moments. You know, when someone is in charge of organizing a large group into smaller groups. But I couldn’t help find it amusing. It reminded me of high school. There’s always a mix of individuals: the overly enthusiastic ones that thought they had won a fucking vacation to the Bahamas, the grumpy bastards who would gripe about being told to do anything, and the dead serious folks who probably jerked off to pictures of politicians.

  Myself, I was usually found in the crowd who couldn’t take anything seriously. And that day that’s where I was. Standing beside Baja, the king of “let’s fuck this up and then laugh about it later.” The only one that was missing was Specs. We hadn’t spoken to him in about four days. The communication was spotty at best. The last time we had managed to get a clear signal he had riled up Baja so badly that he threw the gear. Since then it hadn’t worked very well.

  Tension was riding high, and people were losing their patience with being shoved around.


  “You head over there,” a guy said. “You’re not in that group, join those ones.” And “Are you going to make me physically move you?”

  We stuck together as a tight group even as one of them approached and told Izzy to move into another crowd of people.

  “I’m not going anywhere without these people.”

  “You are meant to be in sector B.”

  “And you’re pissing me off,” she replied to the young officer who went a deep shade of red. That was one thing you didn’t do — piss off Izzy or Jess. They wouldn’t hesitate twice to swat you or give you a swift kick to the balls. Neither one of them was weak. Maybe it was something to do with their upbringing, being raised in Castle Rock, or what they’d already been through.

  As the discussion got even more heated and the officer was backing down, Dickface, Sergeant Banks, strolled over looking like he had something stuck up his ass.

  “What is going on here, private?”

  “She won’t move into the other group.”

  He looked at her with indignation. “Then move her.”

  Banks went to grab her and well… I would like to say that I gave him forewarning but even I wanted to see this. She smacked him so hard across the face, what little brains he had are probably still bouncing off the inside of his skull today.

  I swear in that moment he didn’t know his own name. He blinked hard, completely taken aback by Izzy’s right hook. Once he finally returned to the land of the living, I saw him ball his fists and I was certain that if we hadn’t been there he would have beaten her black and blue. The rage in that man’s face was uncanny. Troubling for sure.

  But it worked. I don’t know, maybe he was sexually turned on by that sort of treatment but he backed up and told the officer that she was to remain in our group. I would later understand the reason for that decision.

  Eventually they managed to get a handle on the crowd and we broke off in our group towards the trucks that would take us over to a runway. We were silent, looking across at each other as the smell of gasoline lingered in the air and they drove us over there.