Apocalypse Five: Archive of the Fives Book One

by Stacey Rourke

  “Does this idiom have a point you were hoping to get to today?” Detroit removed the lid from her canteen, took a swig, and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

  Lips pressed in a thin line, Nicoli his tone a respectful neutral. “My point is that they haven’t sent anyone to check on that first batch of boys, or another platoon to swarm us. Do you think they might—”

  “Know we’re coming?” Detroit finished for him. Twisting the lid back, she let the canteen swing loose at her hip. “I have no doubt that they do. And, with the starship hovering overhead, I’m sure they know exactly where we are.”

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek, choosing his next words carefully. “This … doesn’t concern you at all?”

  Halting her stride, Detroit turned to face him. “They’ve been watching me every day of my life for as long as I can remember. They’ve monitored my reaction time, my habits, and my weaknesses.”

  “That’s the part that would scare the hell out of me,” Nicoli admitted, not shrinking under the potency of her glare.

  “They think they know me so well,” Detroit huffed with a humorless laugh. “But I’ve been watching Houston just as long as they’ve been watching me. And guess what? I had no idea what he was going to do on that mountain. I relish the opportunity to surprise them with what I’m capable of.”

  Trying to ignore the dagger of loss stabbing into her heart and grinding deep, Detroit resumed her stride.

  Unwilling to let the conversation die, Nicoli launched himself after her and easily matched her gait. “I heard what the big guy did. He died a true hero.”

  There it was.

  The ultimate finality, uttered about … Houston. Steps slowing to a stop, her gaze fell to the leaves crunched under her boot. She blinked hard, trying to find her place in a world that no longer made sense.

  “Hey, Nicoli! Look at you, up here!” Jogging up, Auggie inserted himself between them and clapped a hand on Floater’s shoulder. “Your sister was having some questions about something … boatie. Maybe you could scurry back there and see if you can help her out.”

  “I didn’t mean any insult, or offense. I was just trying—”

  “Oh, I know!” Auggie assured him, offering him the bright, beaming smile that had charmed many. “And someday, you may even realize I’m saving your life right now. In the meantime, this is the point when you make a none-too-hasty retreat.”

  Shaking his head, Nicoli lobbed off to Tatum’s side like a dog with his tail tucked.

  One hand on her stomach, Detroit fought her way back from the brink. “Thank you,” she managed, letting him take her elbow and guide her back into a stanch stride.

  “You’ve stepped up in unfathomable ways. It’s only fair I follow suit.” The half-grin he offered could in no way soften the sadness roosting in the depths of his stare.

  Swallowing hard, Detroit shrugged back into her warrior façade and eyed Auggie as if seeing him for the first time. “So … what was up with that? When exactly did you become my bodyguard?”

  Chin tilting in her direction, his eyes crinkled into a genuine smile. “Right around the time you became Joan of Arc.”

  Old telephone poles used as posts were buried deep in the ground. Corrugated metal slabs strung between them to form towering walls that surrounded the Fortress. Scaffolding had been built atop it, allowing armed guards to patrol all hours of the day and night. Torches lined the perimeter, chasing off the long shadows of impending twilight.

  Even so, no alarms were sounded when the hodgepodge group of nearly fifty bodies arrived at the orange gate riddled with oxidized metal. Other than cocking their weapons, one muttering an inaudible code into the comm at his collar was the only sign the guards noticed them in the slightest.

  Proving he was neither dead nor part of a simulation, original A-5er, Boston, appeared on the overlook. White hair dancing in the chilled breeze, he clasped his hands behind his back and let his gaze sweep over the crowd. “I don’t suppose you brought the infant to hand over?”

  “Sorry, we got a sitter for this one,” Detroit called up. Cocking one hip, she rested the butt of her rifle against it. “Your team’s mission to kill her made this seem less of a child-friendly excursion.”

  “I see.” Boston’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, his chin lifting with haughty disdain. “That makes your plan here … what? To tear down our walls with brute force and excessive violence?”

  “Aw, man!” Auggie threw his hand not holding a Rhino revolver in the air, and let it fall to his side with a slap. “Now you blurted out the ending and ruined it for everyone else!”

  “Look at all of the people you wrangled for your suicidal cause.” Boston’s eyes narrowed at the Floaters and Cave Dwellers scattered through the mix. “How ambitious of you.”

  Lip twitching with loathing, Detroit fought to keep her tone a placid neutral. “What can I say? We’re likable.”

  Reno took a threatening step forward, and jammed the barrel of an old-fashioned Glock in Boston’s direction. “Where’s my sister, you bastard?”

  “Except for him.” Auggie’s head jerked in Reno’s direction. “He has newly discovered rage issues. We’re looking into it.”

  A sinister smile coiling at the corners of his mouth, Boston brought his hands together in a sharp clap. “I am so glad you brought her up. She’s been here with us, awake and spilling all sorts of dirty little secrets about the five of you. Oh, wait. I’m sorry. The four of you. I forgot one of you took a running start off a cliff earlier today. Tell me, was there a girlish scream as he fell? Did he wet himself with fright? At any point did the boy break when he realized how insignificant he truly was?”

  The butt of her rifle falling into the dirt, Detroit let her fingers curl around the barrel to combat her yearning to squeeze the trigger.

  Much to the surprise of … everyone, it was Reno who jumped at Boston’s taunting. “You have Juneau? Is she still here?”

  “She is indeed,” Boston sneered, looking every bit the comic book evil villain. “Would you like to see her? Perhaps hear some of the secrets she’s been spilling in front of your newfound friends?”

  Jolts of alarm prickled down Detroit’s spine. Holding out one arm to hold Reno back, she whispered, “He’s playing us.”

  Reno peered up at her, his chin quivering. “Dee … it’s Juneau.”

  Resigned to whatever was about to be unleashed, she let him go.

  The heartsick twin stumbled forward, head tipped back as if beseeching the heavens. “Please, can I see her?”

  Grinning with glee, Boston raised his shoulders to his ears. “It would be my pleasure to show her to you, boy.” He snapped his fingers, motioning to his guards.

  Her mass of red hair bobbed into view as she was led up the stairs to the scaffolding. Hands bound behind her back, tears steaked Juneau’s round cheeks in constant torrents. Taking her by the arm, Boston led her to a spot center stage, wearing a mask of faux concern.

  Reno’s breath caught in an audible hitch, his eyes glistening with grateful tears. “June-bug! We’re here! I promise we will get you out of there! You are leaving with us!”

  Guilt sagging her features, Juneau shook her head. “Oh, Benny, you never should have come.”

  “Wh-what does she mean? What is she saying?” Reno’s head spun in the direction of his teammates, desperate for them to translate English to English and decipher her message.

  “Poor Juneau is frightfully upset,” Boston explained to the crowd below, his voice a theatrical boom. “For she was just telling me some of the most horrific stories about the humanoids that have plagued these lands for years.”

  Hand instinctively latching onto Reno to pull him back, Detroit momentarily forgot how to breathe.

  “Oh … hell,” Auggie muttered under his breath.

  Wickedly aware of how the remaining team members were shifting with unease, Boston continued on with his spectacle. “I had no idea about any of this, the beasts
having come long after my time served on the A-5 team. But Juneau,” pausing, he wagged one finger in the air, “her revelations may haunt me the remainder of my days. Would you like to tell them, team leader, or shall I have your sister in war speak on your behalf?”

  Eyebrows raised in challenge, Boston dared her to speak knowing full well any word she uttered would incriminate them all.

  Unable to form a single word, Detroit backed into a tight huddle with her team, getting the sudden and unmistakable feeling of being caught in a pit of sleeping vipers.

  “Have it your way.” Boston shrugged, and tapped a spot along Juneau’s spine that turned the shivering ginger into an unwilling puppet.

  Moving with robotic jerks, Juno’s body lumbered her to the edge of the wall, her knees pressed to the metal at an angle that would take little more than a strong breeze to knock her over. This time, no hologram blocked out her features. It was Juneau’s own heart-shaped lips that uttered the ultimate words of betrayal. “On every mission my A-5 team has embarked on, there has been a device behind our earlobe. Its main purpose was communication. Yet, it held another far more disturbing function.” Mouth open, as if choking on the words, she glanced to Boston, praying for an ounce of mercy.

  Pressing his lips together in mock understanding, Boston brushed that spot on her back once more.

  His shoulder pressed to hers, Auggie whispered for Detroit’s ears only, “Any idea what our play here is? This is fast becoming do or die.”

  Detroit flipped her hair from her eyes, and her chin jutted out with unyielding purpose. “We’re going to turn into the spin.”

  Eyes welling with a fresh wave of tears, Juneau’s shoulders shook as her tongue loosened against her will. “That device cloaked our appearance. We … were the humanoids. Every life they’ve taken, every catastrophe they caused, has been our doing.”

  The gathered rebels responded in a collective gasp.

  Stares swiveled.

  Glared daggers of accusation were stabbed in the direction of the clustered trio.

  Dropping her ADS assault rifle to her side, Tatum ventured a step closer. Eyes narrowed, she searched Detroit’s face for traces of the truth. “That’s not true. It can’t be. My parents … my family … Detroit, tell me this isn’t true. Were you those brutal things that have painted the earth with the blood of thousands?”

  Drenched in a self-loathing, Detroit ground her teeth to the point of pain. “Through the device, we saw all of you as the humanoids. We thought we were saving lives.”

  Cocking his weapon, Nicoli took his place at his sister’s side. A murderous gleam darkened his stare to inky pits of despair. “I don’t believe that was the answer to the question she asked.”

  Noticing her teammates’ fingers tightening around the grips of their weapons, Detroit raised a hand to steady them. She squared her shoulders, and met the accusation head-on. “You’re right. Anything I say will sound like an excuse, and you deserve more than that.” Air escaping her lips in an anxious quiver, she charged into the truth. “Yes, we … were the humanoids.”

  An enraged buzz swelled around them. Weapons, including Nicoli’s, were suddenly trained on what remained of the A-5.

  Slamming a hand to her brother’s chest, Tatum held him back. “We will hear them out, because we are not monsters!”

  “We didn’t learn of any of this until we came here!” Detroit shouted over the thunderous rumblings of outrage. “The second we discovered the truth, we made it our mission to help you all in any way we could. Even though we knew it would never correct what we had done!”

  Those words hit Tatum’s ears with the shrill squeal of nails dragging over metal. Hands easing in her struggle against Nicoli, her head slowly turned in Detroit’s direction. “You … knew? While we extended the kindness of our home to you, you knew you had killed people we loved and destroyed the land bound water supply?”

  “Tsk,” Boston’s lips parted with a pop, his head shaking in disapproval. “What a devastating disappointment that must be, knowing they ate your food and mingled among you, while the blood of your families stained their hands.”

  “No!” Auggie argued, taking a protective step in front of his team leader. “It was only when we sat and talked to your people were we able to put the pieces together! Those on the space station manipulated us all! All to further their way of life!”

  Nicoli matched his step and intensity, easily pushing past Tatum’s waning resistance. “Yet it was the hand of one of you that fired a bullet into the temple of my father!”

  Boston caught Juno’s arm, pulling her back from the edge into the waiting hold of two hovering guards. Reveling in the opportunity to ease himself into the forefront position, he threw his arms out wide to hush the brewing frenzy.

  “Friends, you have been led astray to the amusement of children!” he bellowed, offering them a smile dripping with feigned compassion. “It is not too late to make amends! You would have nothing without the aid of the Fortress.”

  Detroit didn’t miss the uneasy looks that were exchanged between the Floaters and Mountaineers who surrounded them. While the A-5 was currently top of their most vile humans list, they weren’t prepared to mash themselves back under the thumb of the Fortress. A small spark of rebellion survived Boston’s revelation, and that meant there was still hope.

  She wasn’t the only one that noticed the would-be rebels’ hesitation to fall in line. “Unless, of course, you disagree?” Boston ventured with icy indifference. “Are you prepared, here today, to have yourselves counted as enemies to the Fortress? Will you stand with the traitorous A-5, and die beside them?”

  Cued by his threat, every guard lining the scaffolding took aim on the swarm below. The clicks of their safeties locked and armed sent an ominous chorus echoing off the trees.

  Chin falling to her chest, Detroit could practically hear that matchlight spark of hope sizzle out. Desperation shifted the mood to one of self-preservation. Even Nicoli’s weapon drooped under the weight of that cloak of oppression.

  Ever the diplomat, Tatum’s expression blinked to neutral as she begrudgingly blinked up at Boston’s perch. “What would you have us do?”

  “I’m so glad you asked,” Boston purred with a vindictive smile. “I’m sure you’re all gathered here because of the infant that had been harbored by the Apocalypse Five. She’s a rare child that managed to live on this Earth without inoculation from the contaminants. As you must realize, we are fascinated by such a child and want to study what in her genetic makeup allows her to be such an anomaly.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they want her for,” Auggie grumbled, taking solace in the weight of the grenade launcher strapped to his back. If nothing else, he could clear them a path to run.

  “Special clemency will be shown to the clan that brings the infant to us, so I suggest you all hurry. Oh! But first, I’m going to need you to reaffirm your compliance to our previous arrangement. The A-5 tried to rally you against us.” Boston’s hands curled around the edge of the wall, and he leaned forward with voyeuristic intrigue. “Kill them.”

  No signal was needed for the trio to shift to a back-to-back formation. Weapons drawn at the ready, they were stunned by utter stillness.

  “You seem to be harboring the disillusion that you have a choice in this matter!” Boston’s face twisted in rage. “Shooters, take your marks!”

  With military precision movements, each guard lined up a kill shot. “This is very much a you or them situation.”

  “You may need to check your math before committing to such orders, Boston,” the reverend, and leader of the Air Walkers, declared as she stepped into the clearing. A team of nearly thirty flanked her, all heavily armed and draped in ammo. “Because from where I’m standing, you are grossly outnumbered and outgunned.”

  Pushing off the wall, Boston’s posture straightened, bemusement playing over his features. “Reverend, always a pleasure to see you. Although it is unusual for you to involve yourself in the
se types of matters. I thought you had better sense than that.”

  The reverend let her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug that would have seemed lackadaisical, if it wasn’t for the M-57 clutched in her hands. “That’s before these matters, as you put it, centered around my very much alive and healthy grandbaby. Who proved to me, in her few days on this planet, how wrong I had been listening to the likes of you. I came to celebrate my newfound realization by joining the brave crew staging an uprising. It seems, however, that I got here in time to remind them what they’re fighting for.”

  Whatever humor he had found in the situation was chased away by a storm cloud of brewing rage. Brow pinched in a deep V, he spat each word with audible disdain. “You think I’m going to stand here and allow you to breathe fresh life into the dying corpse of this pathetic rebellion?”

  “I very much do. Again, because …” Letting the sentiment hang in the air, a wide sweep of the reverend’s arm gestured to the excess of weaponry now positioned at his rusted gate. “Even so, I am a woman of faith meant to share the gospel. Today, I bring word … of an angel.”

  “What’s happening?” Reno mumbled. “Are they going to kill or not?”

  “Seems it’s still up in the air.” Detroit shrugged.

  Exchanging mocking huffs of laughter with his men, Boston’s rage cooled to minor annoyance. “She’s come for a sermon, then! Let’s hear her out. Maybe by the end, the A-5 will be bored enough to kill themselves and spare us the hassle.”

  “Oh, I doubt it.” The reverend grinned. “You see, I was warming a kettle of tea in my hut when a man crashed through my roof. Truth be told, my first thought was that he was the angel Raphael sent down from the clouds with a message from God to this humble servant. But, while this particular angel was cast down from above,” turning in Detroit’s direction, the reverend pointedly peered her way, “his story began … in the stars.”