Purge of Babylon (Book 6): The Isles of Elysium

by Sisavath, Sam

  Well, that was it. He already had the pedal pushing against the floor. The damn vehicle was just slow.

  As he passed them by, one of the soldiers turned back to talk to the civilian, but the other one continued to look after him. Keo stared forward and kept going, but as soon as he was on the other side of the intersected street, he glanced at his passenger-side mirror and saw the soldiers going into the house.

  Close one.

  He wondered if Dave had seen them or if he was too busy trying not to freeze to death in the back. Since Dave hadn’t said anything, it was probably the latter.

  They were halfway to the front gate now, and he was feeling a lot better. Not that he thought they were any closer to making it out of T18 alive, though he had settled on the odds of them exiting the subdivision at slightly under forty percent. The presence of those two soldiers had knocked those odds down some, but having passed them, he thought forty percent was probably about right.

  I’ve had worse odds.

  As the golf cart churned on, splashing an ungodly amount of water in its path, Keo upped his chances of surviving Texas at around forty-five percent.

  What the hell. He was feeling a little optimistic these days.

  *

  The last time he approached the front gate of T18A1, with Grant in the driver seat, the two soldiers manning it were too busy trying not to catch a cold in the guard booth and had left the gate open.

  This time, Keo wasn’t so lucky.

  It took all his willpower not to pick up the M4 and start shooting. He didn’t do it because he had gotten lucky with Owen and Ronny inside Gillian’s house, but out here there were no walls to help suppress the sound of gunshots. And he remembered the two soldiers he had passed earlier; there was no telling how many others were still walking around the subdivision, going house to house.

  He was twenty meters from the heavy gate—way too heavy to ram; hell, the cart would crumble long before he could force that hulking metal barrier open—when the guards spotted him. It was likely the soft glow of his headlights, which despite not being all that bright was the only thing lit up around the area and wasn’t difficult to pick out.

  One of the guards hurried out of the booth, bent slightly at the waist as if that would save him from the slashing rain. The man had his M4 slung over his shoulder, which told Keo he wasn’t on high alert.

  Keo stopped ten meters from the gate and reached down and took out the Glock, then placed it in his lap. He kept his right hand on the gun while holding the highest point of the steering wheel with his left so the guard could see it.

  The guard moved toward him, shielding his eyes with one hand against the sheets of rain that seemed to be coming at them sideways now. The wind had also picked up and the man’s raincoat was pressed against one side of his body, and it looked like he was doing everything possible not to be picked up and blown into the night sky. It didn’t help that he was tall and lanky.

  “Open the fucking gate!” Keo shouted with all the indignation he could muster.

  Behind him, Dave must have finally realized where they were and stirred. Or, at least, Keo assumed he was moving back there, because Jordan’s protector gave the front seat one involuntary hard kick before going suddenly very still.

  The soldier stopped at the sound of Keo’s voice, and still peering from underneath one hand, shouted back, “What?”

  “I said open the gate, you moron!” Keo shouted over the pak-pak-pak of rain. “We’re freezing our asses off out here!”

  The soldier hesitated. He glanced back at his partner, but the man remained hidden inside the shack with a small LED light of some sort hanging above him. With no help coming, the soldier started moving toward the golf cart again.

  “Are you deaf?” Keo shouted when the man was five meters away. “You new here or something? Open the gate!”

  The man was close enough now that Keo could see he was very young, his face just barely illuminated by the weak headlights.

  “The golf cart,” Keo wanted to shout. “Respect the golf cart, you little prick!”

  Keo glared at the soldier like he expected something better, like he belonged and this kid was screwing up—

  That might have done it.

  The soldier looked back one more time before shouting, “Sorry, sir!” and rushed back up the street to the gate.

  Sonofabitch. That actually worked.

  Keo loosened his grip on the Glock but kept it in his lap, his chest thrumming a thousand miles per second and giving his chattering teeth a run for its money.

  “Oh, fuck me,” Dave whispered behind him. Loudly, too, because Keo could hear him over the storm. “I can’t believe that worked. You fucking maniac.”

  Keo grinned and put both hands on the steering wheel. He stepped on the pedal and the cart moved forward.

  The soldier pushed the heavy black metal gate aside as Keo drove through, halfway out of there before the gate had even fully opened. The soldier looked after them as Keo turned left as soon as he was able and pointed them down the road, back toward the marina.

  *

  “This isn’t going to work!” Dave shouted.

  “Shut up!” he shouted back. “It’ll work!”

  “We’re just going to drive up there and take one of the boats? And they’re just going to let us?”

  “Yes,” Keo said, and thought, Or die trying, but he didn’t add that part because he didn’t think Dave needed to know he had adjusted their chances of surviving tonight back down to forty percent…ish.

  Oh, who was he kidding? It was more like thirty-five, considering how desolate and empty the world looked at the moment. If he thought the almost invisible houses in the subdivision were unnerving, it was nothing compared to driving through the wide-open fields that were teeming with people earlier today. The crops looked as if they were being physically assaulted by the rain, most of the corn stalks pummeled to the ground while water flooded the row after row of carefully arranged soil.

  The only reason the golf cart wasn’t already floating instead of grinding down the road on its four small tires was because the pavement was slightly elevated, but that wasn’t going to last very long. Before midnight, every street and road in T18 was going to be under water. So he wasn’t terribly surprised by the lack of soldiers out here. Besides the fact that Dave and Jordan’s last known trails led into the subdivisions, anyone foolish enough to hide among the fields wouldn’t survive the night anyway. Drowning out there was a very real possibility.

  Somewhere between the near-miss at the gate and his present location, Keo had lost track of time and didn’t know how long they had been on the road. They must have been close to the marina because he glimpsed the water tower to his right, on the other side of another large field of crops. It was too dark and visibility was nonexistent, and he could just barely make out the rocket-like shape and the round top—never mind if there were any guards still braving the horrid weather up there.

  He was wary about having to deal with extra guns, but maybe he was giving Steve’s “soldiers” too much credit. Sure, the tower made for a great sniper’s perch, but it was going to take a hell of a good shooter to hit something in this weather. If, that is, someone was still up there at the moment.

  He guessed he’d find out soon enough.

  Not that he had any choice, anyway. The marina was the only way out. Or, more specifically, the boats docked there. He needed one of them. The faster the vessel, the better, but he’d settle for something with enough gas to get him…where? It didn’t matter. He’d figure it out once he was in the river. Until then, it was all theory anyway.

  There were enough lights along the power poles to keep him from running off the road and into the overflowing ditches to both sides of him. Meanwhile, the rain had decided to bypass the cart’s roof entirely and was now hitting him from the side. Keo wished he had grabbed an extra blanket for himself and hoped Jordan, back there with Dave, didn’t die of hypothermia first.

&n
bsp; He slowed down when he saw the guard shack next to the marina gate coming up. He couldn’t actually see the structure, just the faded glow of two LED lamps hanging on the other side of what he assumed was a closed window.

  The last time he had been driven through by Jack, there were four men with rifles manning the gate. What were the chances Steve had pulled some of them to help with the search? Because if all four had remained behind, this was going to be a very short escape attempt. Keo could see himself outgunning two—maybe even three—if he was really, really lucky, but four? That was asking for too much, especially tonight when he could barely feel his fingers despite the fact he had both hands clutching the steering wheel in a deathlike grip.

  Keo stopped the cart completely about fifty meters from the marina entrance and looked back at Dave. The former cafeteria man was already picking up his M4 from the floor. Keo could barely make out Dave’s face back there, but he could see the whites of his eyes just fine. They were wide and scared.

  “How are we going to do this?” Dave asked. He was stuttering badly, except he wasn’t really; he was freezing, and everything that came out of him just sounded like stuttering because his teeth were chattering so fast.

  “I’m going to drive up there, kill them, then leave you behind with Jordan and the golf cart while I get us a boat,” Keo said. His own voice sounded clipped, as if he had a hard time forming words. “After that, you drive over to the docks and we get out of here.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “I can barely see your face and you’re right in front of me. How am I going to know you’ve made it?”

  “I’ll give you a signal.”

  “What kind of signal?”

  “Hell if I know. But you’ll know it when you see it. Or hear it.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan,” Dave frowned.

  “It’s the best one you’re going to get tonight. If we’re still here by tomorrow, all three of us are dead. I know it’s hard to believe, but this rainstorm is probably the best thing that could have happened to us.”

  “You’re right; that is hard to believe.” Dave shook his head. “Shit, I should have stayed at the cafeteria.”

  “You should have. I bet it’s warmer.”

  “Among other things.” Dave sighed. “Okay, let’s get this over with. If I’m going to die, it might as well be soon. I’m not in love with the idea of freezing to death out here. Or drowning,” he added, looking over the side of the cart at the inch-high rain building around them on the road.

  “That’s the spirit,” Keo grinned.

  Dave grunted back.

  Keo turned around and stepped on the pedal, and the golf cart motored forward. The marina entrance looked a world away, its thick black gate the only thing keeping him from salvation at the moment.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

  Even if he got through the four guys at the gate—unless, of course, Steve had decided to double the sentry, which was entirely possible, too—there were the other soldiers inside the marina, not to mention the ones at the docks. The last time he was here, he had spotted at least a dozen men milling around Marina 1 and 2, not counting however many were at the docks. Two, the last time he had counted, but that was before Dave and Jordan made their great escape.

  Then there were the snipers on the water tower. If they were still up there and if they could shoot from 200 meters in this condition.

  There were a lot of ifs tonight. One wrong if, and he was a dead man.

  So what else is new?

  Still, he was going to have to lower his chances back to about thirty-five. That seemed about right. Not quite too optimistic, but not entirely too pessimistic, either.

  He was thirty meters from the entrance when a figure emerged out of the booth with a flashlight. Rain fell in rivulets down the man’s hood and bounced off the cold steel barrel of the M4 rifle in his other hand.

  Keo drove all the way up to him, waiting until he was just ten meters away before he lowered his hand to his lap, picked up the Glock, and raising it back up, fired through the falling raindrops.

  CHAPTER 23

  Maybe it was the rain, the frequent thunderclaps, or his inability to stop his teeth from snapping, but Keo barely heard the gunshot.

  Or the second, or the third one.

  It only took one round to fall the soldier walking toward him, though Keo shot him again anyway as the man was going down just to be sure.

  He stopped the golf cart and turned off the engine and hopped out just as a second guard stood up inside the booth and looked out the window. The light from inside illuminated his face and the man was still turning his head when Keo shot him in the face, shattering the glass at the same time.

  Keo rushed toward the guard booth.

  Three shots and no return fire. Three very wet, very loud gunshots that someone had to have heard. If not the guys in the water tower, then the ones on the other side of the gate, in the marina. There was no way someone would not have heard, even in this driving rainstorm—

  Thunder, twice in a row, boomed across the skyline behind him. They were at least five times louder than his gunshots. Or maybe someone did hear the gunfire but just didn’t care, because everything else about the night was just so much, much louder.

  That’s right, pal, think positive.

  Keo had the Glock aimed at the broken window, waiting for a second head to pop up. He was still waiting when he finally reached the booth and kicked the door open and looked in at a lone body crumpled on the floor.

  Two soldiers. That was it. Maybe he really had gotten lucky. Maybe Steve really had committed most of his forces to searching the subdivisions. Or maybe Steve just didn’t realize how uncommitted his men were and most of them were hunkered down from the rain at this very moment.

  He looked back toward the golf cart in time to see Dave climbing out with his rifle.

  “Wait for my signal!” he shouted.

  Dave nodded back. Or Keo thought he did. He might have just been shaking under the unforgiving cold.

  Keo scanned the marina on the other side of the gate, which was really just a long metal pole across the wide lane. He could see the docks at the very end, and for whatever reason the pounding rain sounded much louder out here.

  He expected to see men rushing in his direction, soldiers on horseback charging through the storm. Was it really possible Steve had concentrated the bulk of his forces to searching the houses? Yes, because there were a lot of houses. Five subdivisions worth. Even the military ones would be searched. That kind of canvassing required a lot of manpower.

  Keo was starting to feel good about his chances again (Fifty percent?) as he grabbed the gate and unlatched it, then swung it out of the way. It was heavy against his wet and slightly numbed hands. When he had the gate open, he unslung the rifle and went into a slight crouch, sweeping the marina just to be sure.

  There was absolutely no movement from the wide parking lot in front of him, and no sound except for the consistent pak-pak-pak of rain. The water was flowing down the incline floor and into the river on the other side, and at this rate it wouldn’t be long before this part of T18 was submerged in water as the river overflowed.

  The bulk of the marina was dark except for lights coming from his left, from one of the offices along the administrative buildings. He recognized Marina 1, where he had met with Steve twice now. He glimpsed figures on the other side of the windows milling about. Soldiers trying to stay out of the freezing rainstorm.

  Keo got up and jogged through the parking lot toward the docks. He could see the boats in their slips being tossed around by the swells of the river. If not for the lines holding them in place, they would have been gone by now. Hell, he might not even need to use the motor; just untie one of those boats and let the current carry him back to the ocean—

  A figure, moving at the end of one of the docks in front of him.

  Keo slid to a stop an
d went into a crouch. There were no vehicles to hide behind, so he was stuck out in the open. At least he didn’t stand out too much in the night dressed in the black raincoat. Even the M4 was black, which meant if the man didn’t stare too closely—and given the distance, that was unlikely—then Keo was for all intents and purposes invisible.

  The guy was walking from the end of the dock toward the middle, appearing for just a brief second in a small pool of light when Keo first saw him. Now that the man had continued on, he morphed into a moving black (and shivering) silhouette. Keo could just barely make out clouds of mist with every breath the man took and wondered if he was producing the same kind of telltale signs.

  He took a moment to sweep the other docks. Were there more men walking or standing around trying not to freeze to death on those other platforms? If there were, they were doing a hell of a good job hiding themselves. Was it possible they would only leave one unlucky bastard out here while everyone else kept warm inside Marina 1?

  Anything was possible, especially on a night like this. It wasn’t like he was dealing with real soldiers here. These weren’t men who had been whipped into shape by Boot Camp and demanding drill instructors. They were civilians playing dress up, many of them just barely worthy of the weapons they were carrying.

  He suddenly felt very generous, and Keo hiked his chances of surviving the night to a whopping sixty percent.

  He stood up and slung his rifle, then began walking toward the middle dock, the one where he had seen the soldier walking back and forth on. The man spotted him almost right away, but instead of going for his weapon, he stepped into a weak halo of light and rubbed his hands together and blew into them.

  It was the raincoat. Of course it was the raincoat. Just like the soldier at the T18A1 gate could only see the golf cart, this one saw the raincoat and rifle and thought Keo was one of them, too. And why wouldn’t he? Keo didn’t just look like he belonged, he walked like it, too.