Tokens

by Sam Sisavath

  “What?”

  “It’s called a suppressor, not a silencer.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Proper terminology, missy.”

  Whatever, she thought, but said, “I guess you learn something new every day.”

  “Suppressors come in real handy. You never know when you might have to save some damsel in distress in a classroom full of Raggedy Men. If I’d used an unsuppressed weapon, we might still be up our asses in those fuckers right now.” He put the gun down. “But forget about that, too. It won’t fit your little peashooter.”

  As if you would have given it to me if it did, she thought, but asked instead, “How long have you been here? Hiding in this place?”

  “Not too long. A few hours before you showed up, from what I can tell.”

  “What about the city?”

  “What about it?”

  “How long have you been here? Had your run-in with the Raggedy Men?”

  “Long enough to hear all the commotion going on out there. Apparently everyone chose today of all days to show up in good ol’ Talico. Like I said: Shit and more shit.”

  “It wasn’t just you, then?”

  He shook his head. “Me and some friends. Thought we’d look for supplies, but all we found were those looney tunes motherfuckers. The place looked like it had bad juju from the road. I should have followed my instincts and steered clear of it. Who knows how many people it’s gotten before us. Will get, after we’re long gone.”

  “Why did they attack you?”

  “Probably the same reason they attacked you or those kids. Because we’re in their city. I don’t think those shit bags need an actual reason. This is their town. Probably have been for God knows how long. Who knows how many of them are out there.”

  “How many did you see at their warehouse?”

  “A dozen, at least. Packs of twos and threes coming and going.”

  “Chris said the same thing. That the Raggedy Men came out of nowhere and swarmed her group.”

  “Yeah, they use numbers to their advantage. We took out a lot of them, but they just kept coming. I swear I double tapped one in the chest and he wouldn’t stay down. I dunno how I managed to get away.” He tapped his wounded leg. “Not in one piece, obviously.”

  “What happened?”

  “A metal rod. Can you believe it? Raggedy Boy shoved it right through my leg.” He grimaced slightly at the memory. “Hurts like a sonofabitch. Still does. Thought I was gonna die just checking out that little party you were having down there.”

  “But you risked it anyway.”

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, am I right?”

  Bullshit, she thought. Well, at least he’s a bad liar.

  “Definitely,” she said. “What about your friends? Did they make it?”

  “One’s dead. Saw him go down. The other one…” He thought for a moment. “I don’t know where he is. Took off in one direction, and I went in the other during all the chaos. Saw him snatching up a bag, though. That’s more than I can say,” he added, looking annoyed with himself.

  “He’s still out there? Your friend?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. If he is, he’s on foot and armed with whatever’s in that bag he grabbed. We lost pretty much everything else, including our horses, when the shit bags attacked.”

  Ana stared at her savior for a moment, digesting everything he had said. Quickly, the pieces started to fall into place.

  Was it possible?

  Yes, because everything fit, including the timetable. All the clues were pointing to one inevitable conclusion.

  “Someone shot at me while I was riding past Talico this afternoon,” Ana said. “It’s the only reason I’m here in this place. I was going around it when it happened.”

  “You saw who it was?”

  “No. But whoever it was, he killed my horse, and as far as I know, he took my supplies after I fled.”

  “Hunh,” the man said.

  Ana watched him closely. Just as she had done a few seconds ago, he was clearly trying to piece together the things she was telling him.

  “And you didn’t see who it was?” he asked. “What he looked like?”

  “No. I only heard the gunshots. He was too far away.”

  “And he used a rifle?”

  “Wouldn’t it have to be a rifle?”

  “Yeah, I suppose it would.”

  Ana waited for him to say what they were both thinking.

  But he didn’t, so she said, “Your friend…”

  Her savior nodded. “Yeah, I guess it could be him. Hell, it probably is him. He did have his AR with him when he took off. That thing’s got a pretty sweet optic.”

  “If it was him, why would he ambush me if he already had supplies?”

  The man shrugged. “Maybe he needed more. Besides, that bag could have had anything in it from food to supplies to a bundle of C-4.”

  “C-4?”

  “Plastic explosives.”

  “Why were you carrying plastic explosives with you?”

  “Because you never know when a little boom-boom will come in handy. We got really good with it over the years. Blowing shit up everywhere.” He grinned. “You ever blow shit up for shits and giggles?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “You’re missing out.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” Then, “Is he a good shot? This friend of yours?”

  “He’s a pretty damn good shot, yeah. In fact, he’s so good that I’m surprised you got away. My guess is, he let you get away, or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “He just wanted my supplies…”

  “That would appear to be the case. Which would mean he got the wrong bag when he scrammed.” The man chuckled. “He probably ended up with the C-4. Can’t eat or drink C-4 the last time I checked.”

  “But why would he shoot my horse?”

  “How else was he going to get your stuff? Would you have stopped if a stranger showed up and asked you to split your supplies with him?”

  “Probably not.”

  “When he gets it into his head to do something, this dude tends to go all out. He can be pretty single-minded.”

  “What kind of asshole shoots a lone woman on a horse?”

  “A desperate one. And an opportunist. Either way, sounds like ol’ Keenan, all right.”

  “Keenan?”

  “If it’s the same person we’re talking about, then that’s Keenan who shot at you and took your things.”

  Keenan, Ana thought. Now where had she heard that name before?

  Then, like a thunderbolt: Sonofabitch.

  The name sounded familiar because she’d been thinking about it all day yesterday.

  Keenan. That name, along with three others: Patrick, Bates, and Sullivan.

  There was a very good chance she had already stumbled across Bates, which left three names: Keenan, Patrick, and Sullivan.

  And if the sniper who had tried to kill her this afternoon and forced her into Talico was Keenan, then that left…

  Patrick and Sullivan.

  She stared across at her savior. “I never asked you your name…”

  The man laughed. “Took you long enough. You’d think the name of the guy who saved your life would be the first thing you asked.”

  “Sorry,” Ana said, and forced a smile. “I had a lot going on at the time.”

  “Hey, I probably shouldn’t be talking. I haven’t even asked you yours.”

  “Kelly,” Ana lied. “What’s yours?”

  “Sullivan,” the man said, leaning forward and holding out his hand. “Nice to fucking meet you, Kelly.”

  Twenty

  Sullivan, Patrick, and Keenan.

  The “missing” three members of Gabriel’s murderous inner circle. Sullivan hadn’t identified the man who fell to the Raggedy Man’s attacks this morning, but it was clearly Patrick. Keenan was still alive and running around out there w
ith her supplies.

  As for Sullivan, he’d been hiding out in the Talico High School. Unlike with the ghouls, where you could be guaranteed that daytime was your friend, there were no such assurances with the Raggedy Men. They were out there in the day and at night, which was why Sullivan had been biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to put Talico in his rearview mirror. He’d only left the safety of his attic when he thought he could get something from it.

  “They’re watching the roads,” Sullivan was saying. “If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. I thought about making a run for it anyway, but the chances of me getting far with this leg if I’m spotted are about jack and shit.”

  Ana listened silently, trying to decide how she was going to kill this man. She still had the last bullet in the SIG Sauer, and they were sitting close enough that she was pretty sure she could make the shot. The problem was with the shot itself. More accurately, the sound of the gunshot. Unlike Sullivan’s weapon, hers didn’t have a silencer—or suppressor, as the man had corrected her. When she pulled the trigger, it was going to make a very loud bang even up here, and if there was even just one Raggedy Man down there, or nearby…

  The only alternative to the gun was the knife she had safely tucked away in her left jacket sleeve. But using it would mean getting much closer to Sullivan. Much, much closer. That wasn’t too much of a problem. There were fifty reasons she could come up with to move near him, and he wouldn’t bat an eye at any of them. In fact, he would probably flash her that annoying grin of his.

  But Ana bided her time because there was no point in doing anything while it was pitch dark outside. Forget about finding the warehouse that Sullivan had claimed the Raggedy Men were using as their headquarters; she’d had a hard enough time following him through the school’s darkened hallways, and couldn’t imagine stumbling around out there looking for one building out of hundreds.

  No. There was nothing for her to do until morning, which meant there was no point in killing Sullivan yet. But she was going to do it. Not just because the man was a murderer, but because she needed the things he had. The one bullet in the SIG wasn’t going to cut it. She wanted that gun with the suppressor, as well as the shotgun. He didn’t have anything else on him—no supplies, no food, and no additional ammo for his weapons—but she’d make do. She always did.

  She watched Sullivan’s face closely as he talked. Or as much of it as she could see with the fading moonlight and the two of them almost completely sitting around in pitch darkness. She could see the blue of his eyes easily enough, though, along with his cracked lips and the white, bloodied fabric of the T-shirt he’d used to tie up his right leg. That wound was going to help her tremendously when she decided it was time to finally end this burgeoning relationship of theirs.

  “Counting the ones you saw at their place, how many of them do you think are out there?” Ana asked.

  He shook his head. “Not a clue. Could be just the ones I saw or more. You took out how many?”

  “Four.”

  “Goddamn, woman. You killed four of them?”

  “Two in an alley earlier, and two more in the classroom.”

  “With that little bitty gun of yours?”

  “Yeah,” she lied.

  The less he knew, the better. In her experience, people expected you to be dangerous with a gun, even if you were a little redhead like her. But they were always caught by surprise when the knife came out. Even Wash, who had seen and done more in his short twenty-something years than most people ever would in a lifetime, hadn’t seen it coming.

  “Not bad,” Sullivan said. “You might be more useful for something other than just your looks after all.”

  He had grinned when he had said that, and she thought, Asshat thinks that was a compliment.

  But she smiled and said, “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Hey, it’s a good thing. Most people I know would piss their pants if they ever had to go toe-to-toe with a nightcrawler. The fact you can take down one of those Raggedy Men—never mind four—is good for me. Maybe it means I didn’t go down there for nothing after all.”

  We’ll see about that, she thought, but asked him instead, “What’s your plan when morning comes?”

  “What else? Get the hell out of Dodge.”

  “On that leg?”

  “You got a car or horse you’re hiding and haven’t told me about?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then yeah, I guess I’ll have to do it on this leg,” he said. “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “You know where the Dairy Queen is?”

  “I’ve seen it…”

  “There’s a clinic down the street from it. Maybe half a block. I passed it by while I was looking for a place to treat this leg after the ambush. I was going to go in and search it, but the shit bags came out of nowhere and I had to scramble for cover. Couldn’t risk going back after that. I bet there’s something I could use in there. Worst case, maybe a crutch.”

  “Maybe. Did you search the school?”

  “Went through as much as I could before I found this place. Other than that? A whole lotta nothing.”

  He stopped talking and stared at her.

  What? Does he know?

  “What?” Ana said out loud.

  “You got two perfectly good working legs. You could go back to that clinic. See if there’s something there that could help me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, because I saved your life? Or have you forgotten that part?”

  She sighed. It was overly dramatic, and she was afraid he might see through it, but watching his face…

  No. He didn’t see through shit.

  “I can’t run around out there with this,” Ana said, holding up the SIG. “Not with one bullet.”

  “I’m not giving you my gun, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sullivan said.

  “What about the shotgun?”

  He glanced down at the weapon, then back up at her. “Are you serious? I got a magazine and four shells, and you want me to give up the four shells?”

  She let out another sigh. Again, it was probably too dramatic, but like last time, he didn’t seem to notice. “Look, I’m not running around out there searching for meds or a crutch or whatever with just this gun and the one bullet in it. Not with God only knows however many of those Raggedy Men are still out there.”

  He wrinkled his nose, and she could see his mind working behind those untrustworthy eyes of his.

  Did I sell it well enough? I guess we’ll find out.

  After a few seconds of silence, he said, “There’s gotta be something in that clinic worth salvaging.”

  “I can go there and find out for you, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I can’t do it with just this,” she said, holding up the SIG again. “The shotgun will give me a better chance of coming back here.”

  “Shit,” he said, and went quiet again.

  They stared across the small space at one another, and Ana thought, Look at me. I’m just a small redhead. What are you so scared of?

  Finally, he said, “I want what’s in that clinic.”

  “I can’t guarantee you anything. This town’s been picked through. That clinic could be empty, just like every other building out there.”

  “Fair enough.” He picked up the shotgun and held it to her by the buttstock, but when she reached for (Slowly! Don’t make it too obvious!) it, he pulled it back slightly. “What about the girl?” he asked suddenly, his eyes drilling into hers.

  Ana didn’t answer immediately. She was so busy trying to find a way to get her hands on his weapons that she had forgotten all about Chris. The teenager was still out there, in the hands of the Raggedy Men. Probably in that warehouse Sullivan had told her about, going through…

  Don’t think about it. Just don’t think about it.

  “Well?” Sullivan said, still holding the shotgun away from her extended
hand. “What about the girl?”

  “I search the clinic, and in return I get to keep the shotgun,” Ana said. Then, before he could argue—she saw it coming on his face—she added, “That’s the deal. I’m risking my life for a weapon that I can use to go after Chris with. That’s the only reason I’m doing this.”

  “And the fact that I saved your life,” he said. “That makes no difference to you?”

  “It’s a dangerous world out there. And I didn’t ask you to risk anything.”

  He grunted. “Spoken like a true survivor.”

  “We all do what we have to.”

  “I guess so,” he said, and again she saw his mind turning behind his eyes.

  Had she sold it well enough?

  I guess we’ll find out…

  Finally, he extended the shotgun back toward her. “All right, missy. I guess I’ll have to just bite the bullet and take that shitty deal. What other choice do I have?”

  If he expected her to feel sorry for him, Sullivan was sadly mistaken. Ana took the weapon by the buttstock. It was brown and heavy, and there was some kind of etching along the black portion where the bolt was. The trigger looked like it was gold-plated and sparkled against a skinny stream of moonlight.

  “You’ve used one before?” Sullivan asked.

  “Not this kind, but something like it,” Ana said.

  “So you know how it works?”

  “Pull the trigger and it fires, right?”

  Sullivan smirked. “Yeah, that’s basically it. Shells—if you find more—goes into the feeder at the bottom or along the side. Lady’s choice.”

  She put the shotgun down on the floor next to her. She couldn’t use it on Sullivan now anyway. The weapon, even more so than her pistol, would have made a tremendous amount of noise. Even if there were no Raggedy Men in the school underneath them right now, wandering the hallways, they would be converging on the building within seconds of the shotgun blast.

  No, killing Sullivan would have to wait. Despite that, though, just having the shotgun so close was comforting. All she had to do was reach for it, lift it slightly, and pull the trigger. At this range, she wouldn’t even necessarily have to aim.

  You’re so close to being dead and you don’t even know it, Ana thought when she looked back at Sullivan.