Tokens (After The Purge: Vendetta, Book 2)

by Sam Sisavath

  Slowly. So, so slowly.

  She almost stopped breathing altogether at the sight of its domed head, just barely visible in the semidarkness of the room. She waited for more of them, but there was just one that she could see. That should have made her feel better, but it didn’t. Not even a little bit.

  It was a ghoul, and it was pulling itself out of the shadows with its hands, fingers fighting for purchase against the hard pavement. It took the monster a lot of effort just to eat up an inch of space, and suddenly she knew why she was only seeing it now even though it had been coming—slowly, so slowly—since she began shouting.

  I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Oh, God, I think I’m going to throw up.

  The creature’s stench was thick in the air, trying to suffocate the life from her regardless of how she breathed—through her mouth, through her nose, or even when she held her breath altogether. It was there, and it wouldn’t go away. It was everywhere, pressing against her skin, the exposed parts of her face. Everything tingled.

  There was a click! and the lone LED light above her buzzed to life.

  Ana wished it had stayed off, because then she would have been spared the details about the grotesque figure.

  It was staring at her with dark black eyes, its jaw grazing against the concrete and leaving behind dark black stains in its wake. If there had once been life behind those eyes, it was long gone and replaced by a revenant that moved on base instincts. There was no intelligence behind those soulless, hollowed black pits that she could detect. Any evidence that it had once been human had been long stripped away, leaving behind a bony thing with malformed limbs. Pruned black flesh clung to its skeletal frame, its hairless skull gleaming under the lone light.

  The monstrosity continued to pull itself forward because it couldn’t get up and walk. It didn’t have legs. No, that wasn’t true. It had legs, but it was missing everything below the knee joints, even though Ana thought she could hear the patella of its right leg grinding against the floor as it moved, along with its pelvic bone. The noises, somehow, were even worse than the smell.

  It was ten feet from her, and getting closer.

  She looked back at Gabriel, visible now at the top of the stairs with the lights on, though the door behind him was still obscured in shadows.

  “Why did you bring it down here?” she asked.

  He took a couple of steps into the light before stopping in the middle of the stairs and sitting back down. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m leaning toward getting out of Dodge. People are asking too many questions, and I’m having a hard time keeping my lies together.” He smiled. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

  She glanced back at the ghoul.

  Nine feet. How had it made up a whole foot while she wasn’t looking?

  She turned back to Gabriel. “Don’t do this.”

  “Are you scared?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Look at it. It’s so pathetic. It can barely move. I had to put it in a potato sack to bring it here, and it barely fought. It hasn’t had a drop of blood in ages. It’s so weak, you could probably kill it with your bare hands.”

  Ana looked down at her arms, duct taped to the armchair.

  “Oh, right, I forgot about that,” he said. The amusement in his voice was like a knife through her gut. “I guess you can’t kill it with your bare hands.”

  You fucker, she thought, but knew that wasn’t going to help the situation, so she said instead, “Gabriel, you can’t do this…”

  “Of course I can. But don’t worry, I didn’t leave you completely defenseless. After all, what would be the fun in that?”

  Fun? There is no “fun” here, you bastard!

  “Look at your right arm,” he said.

  She did—and didn’t see anything she hadn’t seen the last ten times she had looked.

  “See it?” he asked.

  “See what? What am I looking at?”

  “Look closer…”

  She did, even squinting, but there was nothing down there except gray duct tape. What the hell was he talking—

  Wait. What was that?

  It was some kind of thin sliver, like a thread, running from one short end of the tape to the other. It was an incision, made with a knife or something sharp, but it wasn’t deep enough to cut through the material completely. It was, though, big enough that she could see the mesh between the top and sticky bottom part of the tape.

  “See it?” Gabriel asked.

  “That’s it? That’s it?”

  “Well, I can’t do everything for you now, can I? You’ll have to do something yourself, Ana.”

  She jerked her arm, praying the tape would simply snap in half, but her hand remained fastened to the armchair. But she had felt something. A little give. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it hadn’t been there before.

  Ana looked over at her left arm.

  “It’s just on your right,” Gabriel said. “Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

  “Easy?” she said, almost spitting the word out. “You call this easy?”

  “Easier than the alternative.”

  “I’d rather have a knife. Give me my knife.”

  “Sure, why not,” Gabriel said.

  “Sure, why not?” she thought. Is he really going to…?

  Something sailed through the air and landed on the floor in front of her, clanging barely six inches from her right foot.

  It was her knife.

  “Oops,” Gabriel said. “You were supposed to catch that.”

  She glared at him. “You sonofabitch.”

  He chuckled. “I thought about taking you with me, but you’d be more trouble than you’re worth. Then I remembered; when was the last time I saw a ghoul feed? Answer: It’s been a while. I’ve always been fascinated by how long it takes someone to turn. The whole process, from beginning to end. I’ve heard a few theories, but I don’t think anyone’s ever done a controlled experiment like this one. You think it’ll be able to stop when it’s full, or will it keep drinking you to death?”

  “You fucker,” Ana said.

  “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

  She looked back at the ghoul.

  It was eight feet away now and raising its right arm, lowering its palm to the floor, then dragging its body forward.

  Seven feet…

  And there was the knife, so close she could feel the plastic handle. Feel the silver blade that could end this with a simple stab. She had done it before, and it would have been easy to kill the ghoul.

  If she wasn’t tied up.

  If she could grab the knife from the floor.

  If, if, if…

  “I’m being cruel, aren’t I?” Gabriel was saying from the stairs. “I should really give you more of a chance. Shouldn’t I?”

  “Yes,” Ana said. “Give me a chance.”

  “But I really, really want to see if you’ll turn before it drinks you empty. I’m extremely curious. Don’t worry, though; either way, I’ll make sure you don’t end up running around out there looking for innocent little kids to feed on. It’s the least I could do.”

  She turned back to the ghoul.

  It was six feet away now. Had it picked up speed? Was it actually moving faster?

  No, it couldn’t be. It had to be her imagination.

  Wasn’t it?

  She looked back at the stairs. “Gabriel…”

  “You’re scared, aren’t you?” he asked. She couldn’t tell if it was a real question, or if he was playing—

  Oh, who was she kidding? The bastard was having fun at her expense!

  “Yes,” she said. “Cut me loose. Just one hand.”

  “That’s up to you. I’m sure you can break free.”

  “I can’t…”

  “You’re not even trying.”

  “I can’t, goddammit!”

  “Try harder.”

  “Give me a cha
nce. Just give me a chance.”

  “But look at it. It can barely move. It’s going to take”—he mocked glancing at his watch— “at least another day to reach you. Or half a day. Let’s go with half a day.”

  Bullshit. It’s not going to take half a day.

  Because it was already halfway to her.

  Five feet…

  And the smell. It had gotten worse. She didn’t think that was possible, but now that the creature was within spitting distance of her, she was pretty certain it was, and she might have dry heaved her empty stomach on it anyway. Maybe that would make it change its mind. Could ghouls get disgusted by being thrown up on?

  Just the thought made her almost gag.

  “Careful now,” Gabriel said from the stairs. “Don’t want to give it more incentive. It’s hungry. It’s been hungry for who knows how long now. When we found it, it was hiding in this cabin about fifteen miles from town. The boys and I had no trouble capturing it and a few others, bringing them over…”

  What the hell were you doing with it, you sick fuck? she wanted to ask him, but it was a waste of time and breath.

  She said instead, “Gabriel, please…”

  “Oh, so it’s ‘please’ now, huh? Whatever happened to killing me before this is over?”

  “Please…”

  The sound of the ghoul’s lower jaw scraping against the concrete, ripping skin loose, made her look over. It was filthy and disgusting, and the overwhelming stench that emanated from every inch of its flesh made her flinch.

  Four feet…

  “Gabriel,” she said. “Please.”

  He didn’t say anything and just watched her curiously.

  She sought out his eyes while the tears welled up around hers. It came easily and on cue. “Please, Gabriel. Please don’t do this. For God’s sake, I’m sorry. Please. Please.”

  He cocked his head. “I almost believed you.”

  “Please,” she said, even as she struggled against the tape holding her to the chair.

  Ana was putting most of her weight into her right arm. The tape was giving a little bit each time she jerked, but it would have been more effective if she could pull harder. But that was impossible, and she was forced to resort to small movements. Small, barely noticeable movements. But at least the tape was yielding with every motion she managed. At least there was that.

  God, I hope it’s yielding. God, I hope I’m not just imagining it!

  She didn’t stop working on the tape as she pleaded with Gabriel. “I’m sorry. You have to believe me. I’m sorry. Please, Gabriel. Please.”

  “About what?” he asked. “What are you so sorry for?”

  “Everything. Everything I said. Everything I did. I’m sorry. Please, please, you have to believe me. If you let me go, I swear I’ll do anything you want. I’m begging you, Gabriel. Please, I’m begging you for my life. Please.”

  That last please might have done it, because he stood up.

  The tears were rolling down her cheeks in streams now. They came from deep down, produced by memories of the past, of the dark days of The Purge. She had new ammo to help them along—her sister being taken, fleeing through the dark woods from Mathison’s men, fearing for Wash’s life…

  “Please,” she said, her voice fluctuating, dropping then rising, just the way a pathetic woman begging for her life would sound like. “Please, Gabriel, please. Don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. Please. Please.”

  The creature was so close to her now that it stopped crawling temporarily and reached out with its right hand toward her restrained right foot. When it failed to make contact, it looked perplexed.

  For a second or two, before it started crawling again.

  Two feet…

  She looked over at Gabriel as he began walking down the steps.

  Almost there. Almost there!

  She gave her right arm a quick peek. It didn’t look as if she’d made any headway at all. Had she been mistaken about the tape yielding little by little against her struggling? Was the damn thing never going to let her go?

  Ana focused on Gabriel. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. About everything.”

  He was watching her the entire time, as if trying to read her, to figure her out, as he took more steps down. “You’re an interesting woman, Ana. I can’t quite figure you out.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. What do you want me to do, Gabriel? Tell me, and I’ll do it. I swear, I’ll do anything.”

  He was close enough now that she could see it in his eyes.

  He was buying it. She had gotten through.

  Finally.

  “Gabriel, please, let’s start over,” she said. “Let’s just start over—”

  There was a boom! from the top of the stairs, so loud that the entire basement shook for a few seconds.

  No. I was so close. I was so close!

  Splinters flicked through the air and pelted the floor in front of her, other wooden pieces landing on the crawling ghoul (One foot! It was one foot away!). Not that the creature noticed. It was too busy trying to get to her.

  At the bottom of the steps, Gabriel was turning, looking up just as a figure appeared at the top, and Ana heard the sound of a shotgun racking. A shadowy form was moving up there as Gabriel drew his sidearm.

  “He’s down here!” she shouted. “He’s got a gun!”

  Gabriel fired up the stairs, sending off two bangs that were so loud Ana flinched at the thunderous echoes.

  “Down—” she started to scream, when she felt something scraping against the nose of her boot.

  She looked down and her stomach dropped.

  The ghoul’s bony fingers, like deformed spikes, were wrapping around her leg, the contact sending ice up and down her spine and into the deepest recesses of her soul.

  Then it began to climb, pulling itself up, using her leg as an anchor.

  Ana heard someone shrieking, and it took half a second to realize it was her.

  Twelve

  There was a time when Ana was terrified of the dark and everything that dwelled within it. The Purge had all but cemented that fear, and if not for the driving need to keep herself and Emily alive, she might have succumbed. There were so many times when she had wanted to do just that. Just roll into a ball and seek out a corner and let it all just go away.

  But she never did, because Em couldn’t afford her to.

  So Ana had fought back and learned how to live with the darkness. She stopped being afraid, and the constant fighting kept her going. The nights were filled with terrors, as were the days during that miserable year, though for entirely different reasons. The years after that had been just as hard and just as trying.

  Through it all, Ana had adapted (Adapt or perish, someone once said over the radio) and never allowed herself to become complacent. She couldn’t afford to, not with hers and Emily’s lives constantly at stake. Over the last five years, the ghouls became background noise as she focused more on surviving the ones that walked in the daylight. In many ways, the humans were always more dangerous than the nightcrawlers could ever hope to be. At least with the creatures, you knew what you were getting. Man, on the other hand, was capable of so, so much more.

  Since The Walk Out, Ana had encountered ghouls, but she’d never really felt the same kind of fear like those early days of The Purge. There was dread, of course, but never the type that dug deep into your soul and filled up the pit of your stomach and refused to let go no matter how hard you shook or fought.

  She felt that now, trapped in this room with a ghoul crawling up the length of her body.

  No.

  No, no, no.

  She tried to let out another scream, but the only thing that came out was a loud, almost wheezing cough. Her throat hurt from all the screaming she’d already done and the pleading with Gabriel. She was pathetic and desperate, and worst of all, not in a position to do a damn thing about it except watch the creature glare at her, its slack jaw opening impossibly wide as it pulled it
self up past her waistline. Viscous liquid dripped from its jagged brown and yellow teeth and splattered her pants.

  No…

  She had forgotten all about the smell—or maybe she was just too busy concentrating on the sight of the thing as it crawled up the length of her leg to worry about anything else. She was afraid it might decide to stop and take a bite out of her leg, but it seemed intent on getting to the very top of her. Or perhaps it just wanted her exposed flesh instead of having to work through the fabric of her pants.

  NO!

  Then it happened. She didn’t know how exactly or where the strength came from when it hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was all those memories of that miserable dark year flooding back to her in a tidal wave. Or maybe it was just pure unfiltered fear flooding every inch of her being, giving her strength from places where she didn’t think they existed. But where and how didn’t matter anymore, because it was just there and she pulled her right arm up with everything she had and—

  Yes!

  The tape broke loose at the point of incision with a loud tearing sound, and she lifted her right arm, made a fist out of her fingers, and punched the ghoul in the face.

  No, you don’t. No, you don’t!

  The blow glanced off the creature’s forehead, but if she thought that would throw the monster off her, she was sadly mistaken. Instead, it clung to her with one hand, cold fingers tightening around her leg even as its head rocked back slightly from the strike.

  No, no, no!

  She hit it again, this time going for the center of its face. Its nose shattered under her knuckles, like twigs underneath a sheet of rubber snapping in half.

  That did it, and the ghoul careened back, back until it lost its grip on her leg and collapsed to the floor, bones clacking against the hard concrete.

  It’s not going to stay down. It’s not going to stay down!

  She knew it without having to think about it. The ghoul was already dead, and it was going to take more than her fist to keep it down for good. Silver would have done it, but the only silver near her was the knife on the floor that she couldn’t reach.

  Ana turned as much as she could and began digging her nails into the duct tape holding her left arm against the chair’s armrest. She was making terrible progress, and it didn’t help that she barely had any nails. She had difficulty getting good grips and could only pull strip after strip of tape loose—