The Renegades (Book 4): Colony (2 page)

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.

F
rom 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.

Waiting were six Boeing CH-47 Chinooks. Each one carried thirty-three passengers for a total of thirty-seven with crew. The trucks parked about fifty feet away. The sound of the tandem rotors was deafening. The back flap on the truck dropped and they guided us towards the helicopter that would take us to our final destination.

We went around the back of the Chinook and up a loading ramp into the cargo holding area. For a helicopter that could carry that many people it was pretty cramped. Either side had red lightweight fold-down seats. With the seats in an upright position a vehicle could be loaded in the back. In this case though, they were down. The interior had silver padding and a large American flag affixed to the ceiling. I took a seat beside Jess, strapped myself into a five-point harness seat belt, and stared at a couple of green first-aid kits that were stowed away.

There was no point in us attempting to talk to each other as the whirring noise of the rotor blades was like a high-pitched scream in our ears. I couldn’t tell you what the others were thinking as we lifted away in a cloud of dust.

But I know what I was thinking.

I had my reservations about it all. As we banked a hard left I saw a few of the other helicopters out of the back head off in a different direction. Up to that moment we hadn’t experienced animosity towards us to make us question their intentions — except a few riled-up officers.

It was a fairly turbulent three-hour journey that concluded with us landing on a helipad sometime that afternoon. I didn’t see much out the back except water.

“Welcome to paradise,” an officer said, hustling us out.

“Where are we?” someone asked.

“Rikers Island, New York. But we call it the Hive.”

I hadn’t heard of the place but it didn’t look very inviting. Large concrete walls with barbed wire encircled the perimeter. We came to find out that it was New York City’s main jail complex, an island of four hundred and thirteen acres situated in the East River between Queens and the Bronx. There was only one road on and off the island. At its peak it could hold up to fifteen thousand people.

It might have been safe but it wasn’t paradise. It was a dismal-looking location built for holding prisoners. Luxury wasn’t the goal, containment was.

I had a bad feeling about this.

There were ten jails and seemingly countless facilities. All of them looked the same: government run, low budget, and bleak. A few passengers voiced concern and were told not to worry, as the area we would be staying in wasn’t bad at all. According to them, they had prepared for a situation just like this. That was a lie if I’d heard one. They hurried us into a large building with doors coated in a light blue paint. The walls were yellowish white as though they had been tainted by cigarette smoke. Guided down a series of corridors, I noticed iron bars everywhere. The entire place smelled of bleach and metal. We were brought into a large gymnasium with basketball nets and tiered bleachers. They told us to go take a seat and wait for more instructions. We weren’t the only ones there. There had to have been at least another four hundred people gathered together. Noisy chatter made it hard to think. Strangers stared at each other, giving the whole place a cold feel.

The only ones packing sidearms were the guards who were dressed in black with baseball caps. We all took a seat and watched even more people stream in. There was a sense that no one knew what this place was or even if we could leave.

“Now as much as I didn’t like those hillbillies, I’m starting to wonder if we didn’t have a good thing going on back there,” Elijah said. “I ain’t sleeping in no cell.”

His eyes were darting around nervously. Most of the people, some of the guards included, looked taken aback by Ben’s SWAT attire.

“Okay, okay, quiet now.” A large man sporting a buzzed Mohawk came in with two others. The guy behind him was dressed in a pristine suit, the woman beside him wore white doctor’s garb.

“Afternoon, everyone. Settle down. I’m James Fritz. Though most refer to me here as the Warden. I know you all have questions and in time we will answer those. I wish to welcome you and let you know that should you have any concerns my door is always open. It’s going to take a little while to make the arrangements for where you will be sleeping. For now, my colleague, Dr. Brenton here, would like to do a preliminary medical examination.”

“Why?” someone yelled.

Dr. Brenton answered. “Precautionary. It’s to insure that you are physically well. We can’t have any viruses being spread here on the island. Besides we want to make sure that if any of you are lacking any essential nutrients, we can make a note of that.”

“You will all be provided with a map of where you can go and where you can’t,” Fritz added.

A gruff-looking man with tattoo of a skull on his neck shouted out, “Are we allowed to leave or are we prisoners?” That was followed by nods from others.

“Of course you can leave. But why would you?” he turned, addressing everyone. “You are some of the fortunate few who are safe. Behind these walls you will live, but I can’t say the same for out there.” He paused. “And no, you are not prisoners. In fact, you are a vital part of the future of mankind.”

“Well then, you won’t mind me leaving, will you?”

“Of course not. Tanner here will escort you out.”

The stranger got up from the bench and joined the one they referred to as Tanner. He was the man with the buzzed Mohawk.

“Anyone else care to leave?”

I turned to Ben and looked at Elijah. Baja shrugged. We were all on the fence. But after being outside we were prepared to at least see what this place was about. Jess squeezed my hand. I think it was nerves more than anything. I gave her a weak smile.

“Okay then. Welcome to the Hive.” He paused and gestured to the woman beside him. “Dr. Brenton.”

She stepped forward with a clipboard.

“When I call your name please follow the left corridor and a staff member will escort you to building 403.”

She began rattling off names and people streamed out. As the crowds thinned she had others go down an alternative corridor. The lines were so long they trailed out of the older pasty-looking buildings into recently developed facilities. The rooms inside were large and contained highly sophisticated medical equipment. We each perched on metal stools, waiting to be seen. There were five people dressed in white outfits checking vitals and hooking us up to monitoring equipment. Blue glowing lines flicked up and down, others beeped steadily. They extracted blood, and injected what they said was protection against bites.

“Insect bites, bedbug bites?”

“Sort of.”

I hesitated and pulled back before letting them do it.

“Sort of?”

“It’s okay, it only stings for a second.”

“It’s not a matter if it stings or not. I want to know what it does?”

“It’s packed with nutrients and essentials in the event infection was to spread.”

“Infection?”

“It’s up to you. You don’t have to have it.”

“What if I choose to opt out?”

“You would have to leave the island.”

Drastic. Not a good sign.

I stared over at Elijah and the others who all appeared to be accepting it except for Baja who was trying to flirt with his doctor. I’m pretty sure I caught him saying something about showing her his needle. Then he got this look on his face and realized that it came out wrong.

I paused before agreeing to the injection. It was one of those awkward moments you wonder if you are going to fuck it up for everyone. I really didn’t want to have anything injected into me that I didn’t know about. It reminded me of the time I got the flu shot and then found myself in bed for two weeks. I grimaced at the thought. Then on the other hand I didn’t want to end up being kicked out. Reluctantly I gave a nod. She placed the gun-like device up to my right shoulder. There was a click, then a hiss.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“How long have you been working here?” I asked the doctor.

She glanced at me then spoke, “A few weeks.”