by Sam Sisavath
A powerful gust of wind came out of nowhere and swamped them, followed by the gray belly of an A-10 Warthog as it flew by overhead. Keo followed its trajectory as the aircraft swooped over the cornfields, flying low enough that it would have been tempting for someone to try to shoot it down. Whether they would actually hit it was another matter. But there was no gunfire and soon the plane disappeared into the distance, becoming little more than a black dot against the darkening skies.
“Come on,” Claire said, and got up and jogged across the twenty or so meters of open field between the woods and the first row of corn.
Keo was right on her heels, the submachine gun at the ready. He listened to Rita’s footsteps but didn’t glance back to check on her. As long as he could hear her…
He expected Buckies to pop out of the wall of corn in front of them and shout out, “Boo! Tricked ya!” but no one did. They didn’t come out of hiding in front of them and not from their sides or behind them. There was no one anywhere to greet or interfere or even notice their dash from the trees.
Keo didn’t breathe easier until he was surrounded by swaying stalks—and only because the plants stretched well above his head, hiding them from curious eyes. Claire never stopped moving, and neither did Keo. The kid definitely knew where to go, despite everything looking identical to Keo.
“Damn, there’s a lot of corn,” Rita said behind him.
“There are acres and acres of it,” Claire said. “They had me working the apple orchards when I first got here before I got them to switch me over to corn. I’ve managed to stay away from the wheat fields, though.”
“What else do they have growing around here?” Keo asked.
“Just about everything they need to survive. Fish, too. A lot of fish from the lake.”
“How close have you gotten to the restricted area?”
“You’re looking at it. They don’t let anyone through the gate who doesn’t have clearance to be there. And there’s only one gate in and out.”
“You haven’t been able to step foot inside at all?”
“Not yet.”
“So how are you getting us in there?”
“I said I haven’t been able to get in there yet, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been working on it,” Claire said as she began angling right.
They moved in the new direction for a few more minutes, with Keo checking the paling horizon every three steps or so. The quiet around them—with only the whistling of wind moving through the corn—was disconcerting. Keo had never gotten this far into Fenton, and even though Black Tide reconnaissance already told him where Buck’s main forces were, he expected some hints of Mercerian activity nearby. Or, at the very least, something to indicate the place was getting ready for a war.
But there was nothing of the kind, and it bugged him.
“So you have a plan to get us in there,” Keo said.
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Claire said. “Trust me, Keo.”
“I do trust you, kid.”
Claire finally slowed down as they came to the end of the cornfield, and the teenager glanced around them. He was going to ask her what she was looking for when she crouched and snatched up a grungy duffel bag buried in the ground. As she was searching through its contents, Keo took a quick peek out at the city of Fenton.
Fenton was a good-sized city, with apartment buildings, strip malls, and paved roads that stretched well beyond what he could see with the naked eye from his current position. He glimpsed a few dozen people in the streets and on the sidewalks; they were starting to file into nearby housings. Not a lot of people, but enough to confirm that Fenton wasn’t abandoned. And he was looking at just one very limited part of the place, so there would be even more people and activity elsewhere.
“Here,” Claire said, taking out a couple of Texas Rangers ball caps and handing them to him and Rita. “You’ll have to put your weapons in here. Gun belts, too. Civilians aren’t allowed to carry guns in the city, so you can’t be seen with yours out in the open.”
Keo was prepared for that and took the bag, then placed his submachine gun inside. Rita did the same with her rifle, even if she did hesitate for just a brief second or so. They unbuckled their gun belts, but Keo took out his Glock and slid it behind his back where it was hidden by his jacket (Just in case). Rita did likewise with her SIG.
“If the civilians can’t have weapons, how do they fight off ghouls?” Keo asked.
“They don’t,” Claire said. The teenager shook her head. “I don’t know how they’re doing it, but ghouls rarely come into the city. At least, not since I’ve been here. From the people I’ve talked to, Fenton used to have problems with the occasional strays, but they haven’t had the kind of pack attacks that most cities with a thriving population still get.”
Keo zipped up the duffel bag with their weapons inside and slung it over his shoulder. “So no ghouls?”
“There are ghouls out there. I mean, there are ghouls out there everywhere, but in small numbers. People have told me they’ve seen active packs in the area at nights, but they never attack. It’s like it was back during The Purge, when there were still collaborator towns, and the creatures stayed beyond the city limits because they were told to.” She paused for a moment, before continuing. “Does that make sense?”
He nodded, and thought, Yeah, it makes sense. Too much sense.
After everything he had learned—about Buck and Blue Eyes, about their unholy partnership—Keo didn’t doubt that everything Claire was telling him made perfect sense.
“You know why, don’t you?” Claire asked. She was eyeing him curiously.
“I’ll tell you later, when we’re not standing around out here waiting for nightfall,” Keo said.
“Sounds like a plan,” Claire said. She peered out at the city before looking back and grinning at him. “Try to keep up, old man!”
The teenager jogged out of the cornfields and into the open.
Keo exchanged a quick look with Rita.
“Old man?” Keo said.
“Well, you are pretty old,” Rita said, grinning back at him before she charged out after Claire.
Keo sighed and ran after them, the thoughts, I can’t believe I volunteered for this. I must be crazy, running through his mind.
Eleven
“Will we be safe here?” Rita asked.
“For now,” Claire said. “You won’t have to stay here for very long, though.”
“The plan you’re working on?” Keo said.
“It’ll happen tonight.”
“Assuming it works.”
“It’ll work,” Claire said, and she sounded completely convinced. “I can be very, very convincing.”
Keo raised both eyebrows, wondering what she meant by that, but held his tongue. He guessed he’d find out. After all, Claire had told Lara everything was a “go,” which was the only reason they were in Fenton in the first place. The kid wouldn’t have given them the green light if she had any doubts. Or, at least, Keo hoped she wouldn’t do something so reckless.
You mean something reckless, like take off her uniform and voluntarily let herself be captured?
Oh, right.
He decided to focus on the positive instead. Like how they had managed to make their way into Fenton without being caught. Calvin, of course, notwithstanding. The fact that the Buckies weren’t everywhere searching for them in the aftermath of their run-in with Calvin further cemented Keo’s belief the sniper hadn’t squealed on them.
“You know how to tell if you’re the best at something? You put it all on the line against the best. And if you beat him, then you know. That’s the only way you’ll know for sure.”
Thank God for big egos, Keo thought now as they walked around a small clinic squeezed between two much larger buildings. They had entered through the back and moved to the front, where Keo gazed out at the darkening streets from behind the curtainless windows. That had concerned him, but Claire said the windows didn’t have curtain
s when she found it, and she hadn’t added any because it could draw unwanted attention from those familiar with the area.
The lights directly outside their door remained turned off, but he could already see solar-powered lamps attached to strategically chosen poles up and down the streets starting to come on. There weren’t nearly enough lights to brighten every part of the city, from what he could see, but enough to keep Fenton from going completely dark during nights. The same couldn’t be said for the buildings in front of and around him. There were at least thirty more minutes before complete nightfall, but the apartments were already dark and quiet, as were the other structures he could see from his limited angle. But that didn’t mean everyone was already indoors. A few stragglers were still hurrying up the sidewalks.
Five years later, and we’re still afraid of the dark.
Keo watched a couple knock, then enter a red brick four-story building across from the clinic. There were rebars over windows on the first and second floor, but none on the third and fourth. The presence of extra security seemed to be random, as far as Keo could tell. He wondered if that was something new or if it had always been like this. The window in front of him, for instance, had protection, though it was clear some of the bars had been removed and repurposed elsewhere, leaving gaping holes that were big enough for a child to squeeze through. A child, or something resembling one.
Rita and Claire appeared next to him and looked outside. There were no lights inside their building, though there were half-used candles on the counters and an LED lamp gathering dust on a table in the reception area behind them.
“How many people are living in this place?” Rita asked Claire.
“A couple thousand,” Claire said. “Maybe more. I didn’t exactly do a head count, but most people I’ve talked to seemed to agree on a couple thousand civvies.”
“That’s a lot of people. I mean, I’ve seen bigger, but still, a couple thousand’s a lot.”
“How did you think I was able to move around so freely? They don’t actually have records of anything, including who comes and goes. All I had to do to move between jobs was to ask the right guy.”
“All you had to do was ask, huh?” Keo said.
“Ask nicely, yeah,” Claire said.
“How nicely?”
She smiled across the window at him. “I have my ways.”
“I’m sure you do.” Then, “Are you sure we’re okay in here?”
“We should be fine.”
“‘Should?’”
Claire shrugged. “Hey, if you want 100 percent anything, try knitting.”
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Danny.”
“That’s what Gaby says, too. And Lara. And Carly…”
“So what’s the plan?” Rita asked. “How do we get from here to inside the compound?”
“The only way in without leaving a trace is through the front gate,” Claire said.
“There are woods on the other side of the warehouse,” Keo said.
“You could definitely swim from the woods to the island, sure, but that’s a long swim.”
“I’m a pretty good swimmer.”
“I know. You’re half-dolphin.”
“Say what?” Rita said.
“Long story,” Claire grinned.
“One better left never told,” Keo said. “I’m assuming a late-night swim to the target is out of the question, then?”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
“What would you say, exactly?”
“It would be difficult. They know the warehouse is vulnerable from that side. That’s why they have patrols in the woods in the day and snipers in the guard towers 24/7. I’m assuming—though I don’t know for sure—that they also have guards on the grounds of the island. I could be wrong, though.”
“You’re probably not.”
“Besides, it’ll be safer through the front gate.”
“‘Safer?’” Rita said doubtfully.
“This plan of yours?” Keo asked.
Claire nodded. “Have faith, Keo.”
“I do, kid. Otherwise we wouldn’t have humped ten miles to get here.” And lost Banner and Chang in the process, he thought, but Claire didn’t know about that, and Keo didn’t think it would do anyone any good if she did.
He looked back out the window at the empty streets and the darkening buildings. If he didn’t know any better, he would think Fenton was expecting a ghoul attack anytime soon.
Rita must have been thinking the same thing, because she asked Claire, “If Fenton hasn’t had any ghoul problems in a while, why’s everyone locking themselves in at night?”
“I don’t know. Habit, I guess?” Claire said. “Besides, it’s not like Fenton has a thriving nightlife. The people here are like people everywhere. They work their asses off in the day and rest at night so they can wake up and do it all over again.”
“You sound like you admire them.”
“I just understand them.”
“Where are you supposed to be staying?” Keo asked Claire.
She pointed out the window and at a two-floor about five buildings farther down the street. “There’s a bed-and-breakfast above a restaurant. Or what used to be a restaurant. I have three roommates. All women.”
“Are they going to miss you?”
“Nah. I told them I had plans for tonight. We’re not on lockdown out here. People are free to come and go as they please, but most don’t because it’s safer indoors at night.”
“They’re free to come and go, just not into the military section.”
“Except that, yeah. Fenton is very clearly separated between the workers and the security forces. The civvies feed Buck’s people and Buck’s people protect them.”
“Is that what they call themselves?” Keo asked, even as images of the bloodbath in Winding Creek rushed back to him. “Security forces?”
“Uh huh. I doubt if most of them know what Buck and his people are doing out there.”
“You didn’t tell them?” Rita asked.
Claire shook her head. “That wouldn’t have done anything for us except give me away. Besides, they’re survivors. In a lot of ways, they’re still existing like The Purge is ongoing, that they need protection.”
“They’re not entirely wrong,” Keo said. “The problem is, the protection they need is against the people supposedly protecting them.”
“But they don’t know that. In here, hidden by these woods, the only thing that matters is the people around you, the one working beside you. You can’t really blame them after everything they’ve been through. After everything all of us have been through.”
Keo nodded, because he did understand, and because he knew about Claire’s own losses. “You did good not to draw too much attention to yourself. They don’t know what they don’t know, and it’s not our job to change that.”
He paused for a moment, thinking about the right away to ask the question that had been on his mind ever since he saw Fenton from a distance.
“What?” Claire said, looking at him closely. “What is it, Keo?”
“Did you find her?” he asked. “Emma?”
The teenager shook her head. “I’m sorry. I asked about her by name, even mentioned the town where she was from, but no one’s heard of her. Most of them have never even heard of Winding Creek.”
“Do you believe them?”
“I do. Like I said, these people don’t know what’s going on out there. To them, Buck and his men really are just a security force keeping them safe from the big bad world. Even Buck himself…”
“What about him?”
“Most of the people I’ve talked to have never seen him in person. It’s the system—only a few guys in town actually communicate with the Mercerians in person. There’s a big wall separating everyone else.”
“And they’re good with that?” Rita asked.
“Good?” Claire said. “I think they prefer it that way. It keeps their hands clean.”
/> “What about you?” Keo asked. “Have you seen Buck since you’ve been here?”
“Not once. Honestly? If you hadn’t spoken to the man and Gaby hadn’t chatted with him face-to-face, I’d almost think the guy was some kind of bogeyman adults made up to scare little kids.”
Keo believed her. Everything Claire was telling him jived with Black Tide’s recon reports. Not that it was easy to spot a face on the ground from an airplane even using telephoto lens, but no one fitting Buck’s description had shown up in any of the photos. Even the ground teams that had gotten close enough to the town in the early days had not seen anyone resembling the Mercerian leader.
“What about the other captives?” Keo asked. “The women and children they took from the towns?”
“Like I told Lara in my reports, I came up empty on that front, too,” Claire said. “If Buck’s people brought them here, then they have to be inside the compound somewhere. It’s the only other place to put them where they wouldn’t be seen.”
“Or they might not even be here.”
“Or they might not even be here,” Claire nodded. “I wish I had better answers for you, Keo, but I just don’t know what’s happening on the other side of those fields. Or what’s in that warehouse.”
“I guess that’s why we’re here,” Rita said.
“Someone has to do it,” Keo said.
“Hurray for us, I guess.”
Claire looked at him, then over at Rita. “They told me you guys volunteered for this mission?”
Keo and Rita exchanged a look.
“Wow,” Claire said. “And I thought getting myself captured on purpose was the dumbest thing someone has done this year.”
Rita grinned at him. “Well, can’t really say she’s wrong.”
“This plan of yours,” Keo said to Claire. “Tell us about it.”
“Not it, but who. His name’s Jeremy,” Claire said, “and he should be on his way here soon.”
Beams of light flashed across the window, silhouetting the iron bars that still covered them, followed by the tap-tap-tap of footsteps on the street outside.
