Apocalypse Five: Archive of the Fives Book One

by Stacey Rourke

  “No!” Pulling his gun, Houston stretched his arm out behind him and fired off a couple rounds. “Head to the simulation labs.”

  A laser blast glanced off her deltoid, and Detroit sucked air through her teeth, slapping a hand over the wound. “Why would we go there? None of that is real! It’s an elaborate virtual reality game!”

  Houston landed a shot in the shoulder of a guard, throwing him back. “Whatever you saw was real enough to cause this. What if that really was Earth? What if we’ve been traveling there every time and didn’t know it?”

  “If that’s true—” Reno began.

  “The pods really fly!” Juneau finished for him.

  Striding through motion-activated sliding doors, Detroit jerked her head in the direction of the sensor. “Shoot it out, Houston! Make them pry it open!”

  In a blink, he lined up the shot and exploded the device in a spray of shattered glass and metal. Even with the sliding doors clapped firmly shut behind them, the team didn’t slow.

  “We know how to manually override the pod’s auto-pilot systems.” Arms pumping, Houston matched Detroit’s stride. “If I’m right, we stand a better chance of escape in those. We wouldn’t get that blimp of a bus powered up before they’d be on us.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” Detroit lobbed back.

  In spite of the calamitous situation they’d found themselves in, Houston managed a shrug. “If I’m wrong, we’ll be ejected from the space station where our bodies will freeze and implode.”

  “That’s not comforting!”

  “Fork in the road, Captain.” Auggie’s chest rose and fell more from apprehension than physical exertion. “Launchpad to the left. Labs to the right. What’s it going to be?”

  “Orion’s Belt!” Squeezing her eyes shut, Detroit said a silent prayer she wasn’t about to kill them all and veered to the right. “Grab a flight suit. Juneau and Reno, we will cram into my pod. Houston, you’re with Auggie.”

  Minds fixed on the mission, their strides became timed and measured, falling into a unified pace. Behind them shouts rang out, signaling the guards had broken through the blocked door.

  Short on time, the team snatched their suits off the hooks and forced them on over their pajamas.

  “We should go radio silent, so they can’t track us,” Reno suggested, zipping up his uniform.

  “Agreed, only initiate systems required for flight.” Hopping on one shoed foot, Detroit tugged on her other boot.

  Before veering into opposite bays, Houston caught Detroit’s hand and held her for a beat. “We will find each other.”

  “Damn right we will,” she seconded, giving his hand a squeeze.

  Inside Detroit’s launch simulator, Juneau’s hands hovered over the keyboard usually manned by Lansing. “What’s your code? I’ll initiate manual over-ride.”

  “Muscle memory will move faster than my brain right now,” Detroit muttered through tightly clenched teeth, edging around Juneau to enter it herself.

  The pod lid hissed open. Their chariot to salvation … or death.

  Any hesitation they were feeling was forced aside by gunfire on the other side of the hangar door.

  “Get in!” Stationed beside the pod, Reno waved them over.

  Detroit slid in first, her hands working in a frenzy to click the buttons and flip the switches necessary to bypass systems check and prepare for immediate launch. Settling in beside her, Juneau prepared the oxygen reserves to accommodate extra passengers. The lid was closing on its track before Reno found a way to wedge himself in, forcing him to ride with on one hip on the edge of the bench seat.

  The vibration of the engines kicking to life quaked through them.

  “Brace for launch!” Detroit shouted over the roar.

  Just as the G-force lurch slammed into them, a fiery explosion flooded the hangar. The scorch of its licking flames chased the pod from the belly of the starship.

  “What was that?” Detroit swiveled in her seat, as if there was any way to glance behind her in the glorified egg. “Was that Houston and Auggie? We have to go back!”

  Juneau laid a gentle hand on her team leader’s knee. “We can’t, Dee. You know that. We will find them on Earth … or we won’t. Either way, there’s nothing back there for us. Not anymore.”

  Three sets of eyes stared out the small pod window, watching stars blur past as they hurdled toward Earth. Houston was right. This was no simulation. Yet that revelation led to a far more ominous question. What else had the chancellor lied about?

  Chapter Ten

  The pod slammed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dirt. The second the lid retracted, Detroit sprang from the ship, bending her knees to steady her landing. Spinning in a circle, she searched the sky. “Do you see their ship? We need to spread out, in a triangular formation, and search for signs of them. It might be a crash site, so make sure to—”

  “Step lightly over our burned and broken bones?” Auggie finished for her. Grabbing an exposed tree root, he heaved himself up over a shallow cliff crest.

  Houston’s head appeared beside him, popping up over the rocky ledge.

  Detroit jogged over and offered him a hand up. “We heard an explosion on the starship. Glad to see it wasn’t you.”

  Covered in dust, Houston beamed her way with a toothy grin. Closing his hand around hers, he pulled against her to hoist him up. “Oh, it was us.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with mischievous glee. “We may have strategically placed a few oxygen tanks in front of our rocket boosters before launch.”

  Leaning in, Auggie shoulder bumped Houston in a brotherly solidarity. “And by may he means we most definitely did. They can’t launch into an immediate pursuit if they suddenly have to prevent the entire starship from falling from the sky.”

  Only then, with relieved laughter playing across her lips, did Detroit realize she was still holding Houston’s hand. His skin was a warm and enticing distraction she hated to shake herself from. Still, the situation being what it was, she begrudgingly released her grip and let her arm fall to her side. “The sun is going to set soon. We need to set up camp for tonight. Auggie, you’re on shelters. Juneau, I trust you have something tucked in your belt that can start a fire and/or level a mountain. Let’s start with a simple fire for now. The pods most likely have emergency rations. We should …”

  Detroit trailed off, well aware that none of them were listening. The rest of the team had strayed to the edge of the cliff. Staring out at the desolate landscape, they took in their first true glimpse of the world they been sworn to protect. Moving on whispered steps, Detroit joined them.

  There were no bustling towns. No overpopulated suburbs. The only sign that this land had ever been inhabited were the skeletal remains of a few high rises in the distance.

  “Where are the people?” Juneau’s voice betrayed her by cracking. “There are supposed to be bustling towns. Families playing on playgrounds. Couples falling in love. All of them safe and secure in the knowledge that the A-5 are policing the universe to keep them safe.” Backing away from the vast nothingness, her head snapped side to side in panicked denial. “How can we save them from the end of the world if it’s already happened?”

  Turning on the ball of his foot, Reno raised one hand—palm out—to halt her descent into existential crisis. “June-bug, I need you to breathe. Remember the A.S.K. method we came up with? If we are Alive, Safe, and Concealed we’re doing okay.”

  Her breath ragged, his sister flicked a wayward curl from her eyes. “A.S.K. isn’t a thing! Concealed starts with a C, and our entire lives are a lie!”

  Reno pulled back as if she slapped him. “It does?”

  The remaining team members nodded a reluctant confirmation.

  Not to be deterred, he shook off the setback and tried another approach. “No one is saying this doesn’t suck. We’ve been spoon-fed a lie for years. But, we’re alive and together. Whatever happens from here, we can take it on as a team.”

  Houston bumped
Detroit’s elbow with his and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, “He doesn’t talk often, but when he does it’s impressive.”

  “What’s to take on?” Juneau’s attempt at a bitter laugh morphed into a choked sob. “We’re the champions of a dead planet.”

  “Jun—”

  Done listening, Juneau turned her back on her team. Hugging her arms to her chest, she shuffled to the rising crest of the red-rock cliff. With her shoulder blades pressed to its ragged face, she melted to the ground and wept.

  “She’ll come around,” Detroit offered to her crestfallen twin, bumping his arm with the side of her fist. “She painted this world with rose-colored glasses, and her heart is broken. Just give her time.”

  By nightfall they were huddled in a makeshift structure, compliments of Augusta. Scavenging the hillside, he found abandoned pieces of sheet metal. Those became walls he propped against the crag, securing them with rocks and boulders he maneuvered into place.

  Their stares fixed on the orange flames snapping at the sapphire sky, the disgraced A-5 used their fingers to scoop ravioli out of the ration packs retrieved from the pods.

  In some ways, it felt like any other overnight mission.

  Except for the fact that everything was different.

  “We have to move on at first light,” Detroit rasped. Their only weapon—the pistol Washington tossed at Houston—warmed her hip, making her feel far more vulnerable than she cared to admit. “Once they patch the space station up, they will send a team after us. They’ll make sure the execution of the insurgent team is a huge spectacle.”

  Augusta unzipped his jumpsuit far enough to retrieve the flask from his shirt pocket beneath. Hesitating, he drummed his fingers against its aluminum side and contemplated escaping into his usual state of blissful neutrality. However, feeling he needed to be in control of his faculties now more than ever, Auggie winged it off the rise of their elevated camp before he had a chance to reconsider. “Like we chose any of this. We have no idea what we’re in for here. What was real? What was made up? They may as well have blindfolded us and booted us out of the garbage hatch.”

  Running her hands up and down her arms, Detroit fought off a chill that the cold was only partially to blame for. “The humanoids were a reoccurring theme. We should sleep in shifts to be safe.”

  “Who do you think they will send after us?” Juneau asked the dancing flames.

  “They could send rookies.” Leaning back against a boulder, Reno stretched his legs out in front of him. “Basically, all we have to defend ourselves with are rocks and sticks.”

  “It won’t be newbies.” Houston tossed another log on the fire, sending a spray of ash flying. “They’ll want it to look like they’re giving us the chance to fall in line. I expect officers, with some sort of specialists that have studied our styles and strategies to evaluate our weaknesses.”

  Feet flat on the ground, Auggie’s hands dangled from his knees. “Maybe they’ll send our hidden friend, turn things in our favor a little.”

  “Our friend?” Detroit’s forehead creased.

  “Whoever it was that sent you into the real-world simulation. No way that was an accident. Someone wanted us to know what was being hidden from us. Which means …” Auggie trailed off, letting the rest of them catch up.

  “We have at least one ally on the AT-1-NS.” Houston dragged his hand over the rough stubble of his jawline. “But why now? After all this time, all of the corruption, what do you think prompted them to finally make their move?”

  Seated beside Houston, Detroit found herself close enough to see a little freckle on the edge of his lower lip she’d never noticed before. “The people I saw were starving and forced to give away what little they had. Maybe they felt it was now or ever.”

  As if feeling the warmth of her stare tracing over his mouth, Houston wet his lips. “If that’s true, we need to warn them of how we’ve all been played and manipulated before it’s too late.”

  “What makes you think anyone will believe us?” Juneau didn’t wait for a response. Rolling onto her side, she curled one arm under her head and shut her eyes to their harsh new truth.

  Detroit’s tone dropped to a soothing cadence. “It’s up to us to convince them. Our mission from the start has been to protect the people of this planet. That hasn’t changed. Even if those aboard the starship try to paint us as the villains.”

  “I can take first shift,” Reno mumbled. Plucking a pebble from the ground, he tossed it into the fire. “I won’t be sleeping any time soon.”

  “I’m with you, man,” Houston seconded. “The rest of you, try and get some shut eye. We need to be alert for whatever’s coming.”

  Silence fell as they settled in, adjusting and rearranging themselves in hopes of finding something that resembled a comfortable position. When everyone had stilled, Reno’s beautiful tenor broke the hush with a melancholy lullaby. What was once their proud anthem, redefined by a team dejected and alone.

  “Love, love me do.

  You know I love you.

  I’ll always be true.

  So, please … love me do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Juneau took the next shift in the early morning hours. She figured she might as well, as sleep proved an impossible task. Feeding the fire with a few more sticks, Juneau’s stare scanned her sleeping teammates.

  She heard how they mocked her for her love of old movies. What they didn’t understand was how those vintage reels had given her something to fight for. On the AT-1-NS, feelings were kept in check. Love was a bridled beast only the weak succumbed to—Detroit being a prime example. There, life was scheduled and routine. But, in those movies, she saw freedom. She saw dancing. She saw fun. She saw … a world worth fighting for. The truth, the reality of this demolished wasteland, ruined her techno-color fantasy.

  That was why she didn’t wake the others when she heard nearing voices. Choosing instead to level her gun, she prepared to do whoever it was a favor by freeing them from this desolate hell.

  “Leif, stop!”

  A scene burst out beside their makeshift camp. Sprinting around the bend of the crag, a young couple curled in a protective huddle around a bundled newborn. The posse of ten who pursued them were armed to the teeth, except for the woman with a caramel complexion and proud bone structure who had shouted at the pair, “You risk not only the child’s life, but all of ours by not adhering to the rules of the Fortress. I know you care for the child, but do you love it enough to chance it? If it stays here it will become infected. You know that.”

  Unable to tear her gaze from the drama unfolding, Juneau shoved her brother. “Reno. Wake the others.”

  “Not it! She!” the young mother shouted, rocking side to side to soothe the fussing infant. “And I know no such thing. No one has seen this mysterious sickness they’ve warned us of, yet I’m supposed to give up my child over it? No! Absolutely not. Do what you must, I will never hand over my child.”

  “Your feelings are understandable.” Planting her feet in a firm stance, the stoic leader of the charge clasped her hands behind her back. All among them wore muted earth tones. Their clothing was made for durability, not fashion. “Maternal instincts whispers to your more primal urges that the child is safest with you. You have to accept that for the fallacy it is. If the contaminated air doesn’t claim her, starvation eventually will. Is that the future you want for the little life you claim to love?”

  The team began to stir, each instinctively rising into a defensive pose.

  “We will provide for this child until our dying breath.” The young father took a protective stance in front of his family. “Do you plan to make that today, Reverend Longwood?”

  Swallowing hard, the reverend cast a sideways glance to the crew rallied behind her. “We make no threats against any of you, Leif,” she clarified, her tone one of perfect diplomatic neutrality. “However, you bring a large one down on us in this act against the Fortress. You’re jeopardizing the term
s of the truce for a fool’s errand. Tell me, Remi, have you named her?”

  “Yes!” The mother took a brazen step forward. “Her name is Adalyn.”

  “Who are they?” Houston mouthed to Detroit, passing Juneau the remaining clip he had for their lone weapon.

  Peeking around the sheet metal wall, Detroit’s almond-shaped eyes bulged. “That’s the couple I saw in my mission! They’re real! She must have just given birth.”

  “Shh!” Juneau hissed.

  “This doesn’t have to involve any of you.” Remi shifted Adalyn from one arm to the other. “Pin the whole thing on us. Tell them we escaped into the outer rim while you slept, after secretly giving birth. That will bring no harm to any of you, and you’ll never have to set eyes on us again. Please, just … give us a chance to run.”

  Leif cocooned his family in his arms, his desperate stare beseeching compassion from the reverend. “The world is a big place outside of these camps. We’ve packed essentials to get us through until we find somewhere we to settle. Please, Mother. No matter what lies out there, it can’t be worse than the pain of handing our child over to strangers.”

  With a gasp, Auggie slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh! Plot twist!”

  Dragging her tongue over her top teeth, the reverend’s gaze drifted skyward. “You know I can’t do that, Leif. It would be a death sentence to us all. This child … Adalyn,” forcing herself to utter the name, a crack appeared in her emotionless façade, “will die within forty-eight hours if you don’t hand her over for immunization. Spare yourselves that agony. Hand over the baby, and we will tend to this matter on your behalf.”

  His eyes narrowed, Leif shook his head, causing strands of sand-colored hair to fall into his eyes. “What happened to you, Mother?”

  “Luxuries like parentage have been replaced by the necessities of survival,” the reverend managed, her chin betraying her by quivering.