The Renegades (Book 4): Colony (13 page)

H
ere’s
the thing about plans. They have a tendency to go askew. It doesn’t matter how much thought goes into a strategy or how clever you think you are, life can flip the table on you real fast.

“Z’s!” someone shouted.

I turned my head to see an ocean of faces pushing forward. Snarling, moaning, and gnashing their teeth, it was a sight far worse than what we had encountered to date.

We were still seated on top of the metal container when we saw the tidal wave of undead heading towards us. Now I had seen a vast number in Salt Lake but this overshadowed anything I had witnessed before. Like rats being driven out of the underground. They came from every direction. At first we had no idea what was driving them towards the ocean. Some stumbled forward slowly while others were in full sprint.

Now there had only been a few times in my life that I had truly felt terrified. And this one trumped them all. Time was ticking and working against us. We had one hour before more Hive security would come to find the others. It was a small window that was slowly closing as we realized the predicament we were in.

“No, no, no,” I said before jumping to the ground. I swung up my assault rifle and prepared for the fight of our lives.

“There’s too many, leave your weapons on top. We’ll need them later.”

As the others tossed their weapons up, my eyes scanned the skin-eaters. It would have taken an entire army or fleet of ships to take them out. What were they running from? A few seconds passed and that question was answered. Black smoke billowed from every cavity in the ground. An out-of-control fire was spreading inside the subway system.

All of us looked for a means of escaping but there was none. The only option we had was to get into the water. Moving as fast as our legs could carry us, we ran to the edge of the pier and dived into the frothy waves. A sudden slap of cold shocked my senses. I gasped, feeling my heart pumping like mad. It was freezing cold in the ocean.

“This way,” Ben shouted as each of us surfaced and fought to stay afloat. Pushing away from the pier it was a horrendous sight. The undead trampled each other. Many were on fire, like moving candles dripping flesh from their bones. As they spilled over into the ocean and drifted down into the deep, we were pissed to see the two helicopters go with them. The pure force of them pushing forward tipped the helicopters into the water. It was beyond disappointing, it was another kick in the gut. As if the virus itself was making one final stand to survive. From the safety of the ocean we watched as the city was set ablaze causing even more devastation. Years and years of work, effort, history, and culture were now lost in a cloud of inky smoke. Treading water, all we could do was wait.

The city had become like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, clogged with Z’s. We had to keep swimming in the East River parallel to the mainland until we came out on a shore, a short distance from the Brooklyn Bridge. Exhausted from swimming, we slumped down on the rocky shore, trying to catch our breath. A cold easterly wind blew in off the water, causing me to shiver. If we didn’t get warm fast, we were going to die of hyperthermia. Our weapons were still back at the pier. This couldn’t get any worse. I don’t know what we imagined would happen when we saw them coming towards us. It wasn’t like all of them were going to rush into the ocean. Most of them remained on land. Only the ones who were too near the edge went over.

Clambering up from the pebbled beach, Rowan looked more determined than anyone else.

“Where are you going?” Wren shouted.

“To get some warm clothes.”

It was funny actually to think that while the dead were loose on the world, staying warm was still at the top of the agenda. We dived into the first shop we could find. The windows were already smashed. Mannequins lay all over the floor. Even though it was daylight outside, the store was dark so it was hard to tell what clothes they had. We frantically yanked off our soaking wet clothes and snatched up anything we could find without giving any thought to whether or not it fit or looked good. The sound of snarls and moans could be heard close by. I glanced at the clock on the wall that was still ticking. If the time was right, we had less than thirty minutes.

“Nice tits,” Baja said to Izzy as she tossed away her wet clothes and slipped into the first thing she could find. She scowled at him. It took a little while to find something that fit but eventually we were feeling warm again. As we stepped outside into the light, we immediately became aware of what kind of store it was. All of us looked like punk rockers. Izzy looked like Avril Lavigne from her early days with a white tank top, checkered pants, and a tie, Baja looked like Sid Vicious, and I now resembled the Punisher in an all-black, full leather jacket and a white skull on the front of my T-shirt. It wasn’t ideal but it worked.

Z’s were coming towards us. “Oh shit.”

“We have no weapons and are in the worst possible fucking situation since leaving Cock Ville,” Baja said.

“Try this.” I reached back into the store and pulled out an arm of a mannequin.

“What the fuck am I going to do with that? Give ’em hand jobs?”

“No, you dumbshit, watch this.” Izzy snatched it out of my hand and ran at the three Z’s. This fucking girl was a maniac.

“Batter up, bitches,” she said before swinging it like the hammer of Thor and smashing the shit out of their heads. I had to say her motivation had soared to new heights and ours with it. I’d heard it said that behind every great man was a great woman. I think that was completely ass backwards. Izzy and Jess were never behind us. They were always out front kicking ass. Instantly, everyone grabbed a leg or an arm, except Baja who grabbed a head and made a few sexual gestures before tossing it at a Z’s face.

Yeah, I guess you could say surviving the apocalypse with us was rough. We used anything we could get our hands on. Meanwhile Ben, the smartest of the bunch, went back into the store and tore apart several of the racks to create his own bojutsu long pole weapon. It didn’t take much convincing after he lopped off three Z’s heads with one swipe for us to follow suit.

Of course Baja thinking he was fucking Bruce Lee spun his around and hit himself in the head. Oh he was badass to the core.

So here we were in the middle of Z land overwhelmed by the slow, fast, and mutated and the clock was ticking.

“Listen, we aren’t going to be able to make it back for our weapons. There’s no time.”

“He’s right,” Annora said. “Listen, we’ll move ahead and let’s see how this plays out.”

The idea was pretty simple. An exchange. I would turn myself over on the condition that they sent out Jess. We would meet halfway down Rikers Island Bridge. It was the only way in or out except for the air. Now, there was more to it but that was all they would need to know.

The journey back to the Brooklyn base wouldn’t be easy. We had three options. Navigate our way back via Brooklyn Bridge, swim, or locate a subway system that wasn’t on fire. Not one of them was going to be worth the risk.

“You are going to need those pilots,” I said.

“We’ll use the other two helicopters.”

Faux Façade relied on a number of factors to work. I was handing myself in with the intention of getting Jess to safety. Once I was inside and they began work on me, the resistance would get the two helicopter pilots to communicate with the Hive and let them know they had managed to survive and would be returning. However, members of the resistance would be in the helicopters fully armed. Some of them dressed as security. This time however they would return with a large group of the resistance. Once inside, the resistance would take the place by force using a surprise attack. Meanwhile I would use the card that Birdy had to get out. Yeah, there was going to be a fair amount of luck involved and the risk of being killed was very high but there was no other choice. It was the only way to get inside. Once and if they managed to take the island they would be able to begin their own testing.

We were a good distance from sector C, Chinatown. We slipped down through the streets, fighting our way as we went. Attempting to find a car that still had keys would have not only been a suicide mission but impossible. New York was a nightmare when there wasn’t an apocalypse but now it was even worse. New Yorkers had abandoned vehicles. The way some of them had swerved into buildings revealed some of the horror that must have gripped the city as men and women turned on each other.

There were people impaled on the top of fences as if trying to escape only to be pulled down to a vicious death.

When we finally arrived at a Chinese restaurant called Mr. Wong’s we had to bust our way into the store through the main window. This only attracted more Z’s.

“Go, go, go,” Ben said, rushing us inside. Annora led us down into a dank basement.

“Give me a hand.” She began shifting some of the tables and chairs to reveal a trap door that when opened revealed a black steel staircase. As if we were opening an oven in the middle of a self-cleaning cycle, a large plume of black smoke came out. Heat mixed in with it made it clear that whatever base had been there before was no longer there.

“How they hell did you know about all these places?”

“We created them. Most existed already. The remnants of tunnels that dated back to Prohibition but some were created by brute force. This for instance.”

“Tell me again, why we are going to risk our lives going down there?” Ben asked. “If there are Z’s down there we aren’t going to see them. There’s too much smoke. If they don’t get us, we’ll die from inhaling that shit.”

“If you want to stay here, be my guest. But we need to radio the instructions to the others.”

“We’ll stay here.”

Rowan, Annora, and several others went with them while we hung back locked inside the kitchen area. We could hear Z’s outside, those who had followed us into the restaurant. There was no point going out and killing them. Baja leaned back against the door where a pole had been jammed between the handles. He slumped down and look exhausted. Few people would ever understand what it was like to live through what we had. Small moments like these were savored. The chance to take a breather and regain our energy was priceless. The fear among us was tangible. No one wanted to act heroic. What had to be done here was beyond saving Jess. It was about the future of humanity. Though it seemed a little odd that it now rested in the hands of us, a group from a small town in the armpit of Nevada.

“After this is over, where do you want to go?” Baja asked.

Izzy was looking through some yellow cans. Most had black Chinese lettering on the side. There was no telling what was in them. Thankfully none of us were hungry. We just wanted to get this over and done with.

“I don’t care,” Ben said. “As long it’s sunny and there’s beer.”

“What about you, Elijah?”

At one time it would have been easy to answer that question. Though with society in pieces, a location didn’t matter. People did. Home was wherever other people were.

“I’m returning to the fortress.”

“Oh come on man, I’m not going back to that shithole,” Baja said.

“Specs is there,” I muttered, smashing a can of fruit against the corner of a metal table to get it open.

“My point exactly,” he muttered before smirking.

“Anyone thought about what will happen if this works?”

I laughed. “To be honest I have never thought about any of our plans working. The fact we have got this far with our ass cheeks intact has been good enough for me.”

“No, I’m serious,” Izzy said. “So let’s say we make it, we take the place back and they extract whatever shit is inside of you. What then?”

“I’m not sure any of us follow, Izz, what do you mean?”

“Like, if they couldn’t produce the cure and the cure is inside of those who are immune. How are they going to get that out to others? Does it rely on blood transfusions?”

“No, I think they have to take apart his brain,” Elijah said with a smirk.

“Best of luck finding it,” Baja laughed and both of them slapped hands like they were part of some retards convention.

“No, seriously, how are they going to get the cure to others?”

Annora reappeared, her face blackened from smoke. She was quick to answer the question. “We just need to extract the gene. From there we will have to run some tests to see if it can be integrated with others. In many ways it’s like someone getting a heart transplant. For some it will take, others it might not.”

“So there is no guarantee then?” Ben asked, walking over to Annora. Behind her Rowan was lugging in some radio equipment. It was blackened by the smoke but not burnt. A few more people came up coughing their guts out as they brought in AK-45’s, and a few handguns. I went to take one. Rowan placed his hand over mine.

“You won’t be needing one.”

“What?”

“If they see you armed, they are going to think we are trying something.”

“He’s right.”

“But let me guess. You will be?”

“I’m the one having to risk my ass to walk halfway up that bridge. You are damn right, I’m going to be packing.”

“Until I get over there, I’m taking one. So get your damn hand off.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes. I didn’t know what his issue was. Sure he didn’t trust me but why? Because his brother was killed trying to help me?

“Guys,” Izzy came out of the back of the storage area holding a case of beers.

“Oh, there is a God,” Baja said, bowing to kiss the floor only to pause when he realized how nasty it looked.

While Annora tried to reach the remaining resistance over the radio we tucked into a couple of beers. At least if I was going to die, I was going out in my happy place.

“Why on earth have they got Indian beer in a Chinese restaurant?”

“Does it matter? Drink up.”

I had to wonder if this would be the last time we would be together. Every day since leaving Castle Rock, it had weighed heavily on my mind. How would each of us die? Who would live? I always saw Specs getting out of it. He was a resourceful fucker who you could toss into the middle of a jungle and he would come out smiling from ear to ear. I glanced at Baja. Now this was a kid I was certain was going to bite the bullet way back in Castle Rock, but I have to say, he surprised me like a one-legged horse winning in the Kentucky Derby. His reservoir for staying alive ran deep. Myself, well, if I was going to die, it wasn’t going to be at the hands of Z’s. It would probably be answering back to someone. I could never stand those who felt the need to lord themselves over others.