Bombtrack (Road To Babylon, Book 2)

by Sam Sisavath

  They always knew there were still blue-eyed ghouls out there. Lara and Danny and everyone knew it, too. Will’s sacrifice had decimated the ghoul population—the black-eyed ones, anyway. But the blue eyes were always smarter, more autonomous, and it was an accepted fact among Black Tide that the blue eyes had gone into hiding now that they no longer had the numerical advantage.

  And yet, and yet, there were times when Gaby wondered if that was more theory than fact, because so few people had actually reported seeing the blue eyes in the years since The Battle of Houston. If there were so many of them still out there, then where were they? How could they hide so well, for all this time? After five years, she could count on one hand the number of sightings, and even less when it came to confirmed sightings.

  Keo had gone silent again and was looking out the window at the darkness outside. He was, she saw, gripping his German submachine gun in front of him, and wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.

  “Are you sure it was the same one?” Gaby asked. “Are you sure, Keo?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. They all look the same to me, but…”

  “But what?”

  “There was something about the one outside Winding Creek…”

  “What? What about it?”

  “It was looking at me like it knew me. That’s why I thought it was the same one from outside Jonah’s.”

  “Jesus, Keo. You’re scaring me. You know that, right?”

  He tried to grin at her, but it came out badly forced. “Sorry, kid.”

  “Fenton, Buckies… These things I can deal with. I can see and shoot and put down. But this other thing…”

  She trembled again, but this time didn’t care that Keo had seen it, because she could tell just by looking at him that he felt exactly the same way.

  He’s as freaked out as I am, and I don’t know if that makes me feel better…or worse.

  Yeah, probably worse.

  “Is that it? Have you told me everything?” Gaby asked, even as she thought, God, please tell me that’s everything. I’m not sure I want to know more…

  Keo’s face was as somber as she’d ever seen it, and the long scar along the left side of his face seemed to pulse against the moonlight.

  Oh God, that’s not everything.

  “No,” Keo said.

  She was afraid to ask the next question, but she did anyway because she had to know. “What else is there? What else could there be?”

  “If it was the same one in Winding Creek that was at Jonah’s…” Keo started, but didn’t finish.

  She would think he was doing it for dramatic effect, but she could see in his eyes that it wouldn’t have been true. Keo was running the scenarios through his head, trying to come to grips with them. She wondered how long he had been waging that battle.

  “What?” she pressed. “What is it, Keo?”

  “If it was the same one,” Keo said, “then that means it’s hunting me. It knows who I am.”

  “What does that mean? It knows your name?”

  “More than that…”

  “More than that how?”

  “Me, Gaby. It knows me. It knows I was in Houston.” He paused again, and the way he was looking at her sent another cold shiver up her spine. “You know how that hive mind of theirs works?”

  “A little…”

  “Someone once described it to me as a flowing river, with the ghouls as millions of sand pebbles along its banks. They’re linked by the same current, just at different spots. They can see and hear what the hive mind projects, like a ripple effect. The closer they are to the source of the ripple, the stronger the connection. So when we were under Houston five years ago, that image was broadcasted into the hive. Us, Gaby. What the ghouls down there saw that day, the rest of them saw, too. Us.”

  Gaby listened without interrupting. She knew all this; she’d gone through it with Lara and Danny and Carly a dozen times. Maybe more. Maybe hundreds of times. The ghoul hive mind, the psychic connection that joined them over hundreds of miles—maybe even farther.

  But that knowledge wasn’t what was making her skin crawl. It was the look on Keo’s face and the uncertainty in his eyes as he talked.

  “It knows about you, too, Gaby,” Keo continued. “You, Danny, everyone else who was down there with me that day. It knows who we are.”

  “What are you saying? God, what are you saying?”

  “I think it was hunting me,” Keo said, “for what happened that day. I think it’s hunting all of us now…”

  Nineteen

  She woke up with Keo’s voice in her head (“I think it was hunting me for what happened that day. I think it’s hunting all of us now…”) and found him sitting next to the loft doors, the submachine gun with the built-in suppressor resting across his lap. He was asleep, his head lolled slightly to one side, but he opened his eyes when Gaby sat up and swung her legs off the pallet, the wooden bed creaking against her motions.

  “Shit. Did I fall asleep?” Keo asked.

  “I think you did,” Gaby said.

  Keo glanced down at his watch. “I was still awake at four. It’s seven eighteen now.”

  “You just got three hours of sleep?”

  “Good enough.”

  He stood up and stretched, then removed the extra lumber before throwing the loft doors open. Warm sunlight filled the second floor, the sun as bright this morning as she’d ever seen it. Or maybe that was just because she didn’t think she’d live to see another sunrise after the last few days.

  Either/or, I guess.

  “What about your horse?” Gaby asked. “I didn’t hear him all night.”

  “He’s used to sleeping indoors.”

  “You mean in barns?”

  “No. I mean indoors.” Keo gave her a wry smile. “He’s a, uh, weird horse.”

  “Well, his name is Horse.”

  “There’s that,” Keo nodded. “So, what’s on the agenda?”

  “The same as yesterday. Find a radio strong enough to reach Black Tide. Failing that, using this”—she picked up the two-way Keo had given her yesterday from the floor—“in case there’s someone out there who may be looking for me and is close enough to hear it.” Gaby picked up the AR rifle and slung it. “I’m going outside to see if I can reach anyone. Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck.”

  Gaby grabbed a bottle of water before she climbed down the ladder. She hopped the last two rungs and found Horse lying on its side in the middle of the room. Keo had unsaddled the animal and removed its bridle. He had also wiped it down for the night, which made her wonder how he knew so much about taking care of horses. Maybe she should have let him tell his Afghanistan story after all…

  The man’s full of surprises.

  The horse lifted its head slightly and looked over in her direction but must not have found her all that interesting because it went back to resting, its body splayed out lazily on the floor of the barn.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in a small mirror hanging on the wall as she passed. Gaby couldn’t help herself and walked over to take a long look.

  She was dirty from her bruised forehead down to her jawline; her eyes were puffy and her hair was a mess. She plucked some hay and grass out of her hair, then used half of the water bottle to wash down her face, careful not to rub too hard against the bump between her eyes before drinking the rest. At least there wasn’t a hole up there, in the spot that she’d used to smash the Bucky’s nose in. What the hell was she thinking, pulling a stunt like that?

  Horse stirred, then got up on all four legs as she walked past him.

  “Wanna go outside?” she asked the animal.

  The thoroughbred sniffed the air—or maybe it was smelling her.

  I don’t smell that badly, do I?

  She removed the two-by-fours from the front doors, then leaned them against a nearby wall before pulling back the locks. Horse waited patiently behind her as she worked, then walked casually past her and
outside when she pushed the doors wide open.

  The thoroughbred didn’t stop until it had found a patch of ground with some grass and began grazing. Sunlight glinted off its smooth black mane, and the animal looked perfectly at home out here.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Gaby said.

  The horse ignored her.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

  It stopped eating long enough to glance over, big brown eyes looking at her for a moment.

  “Don’t run off, I may need a ride again.”

  It might have shrugged (Did horses shrug? She wasn’t sure) and went back to getting its morning breakfast.

  Gaby smiled and shook her head. She was talking to a horse. She wondered if Keo ever did that and if he felt as silly as she did now.

  She put some distance between her and the barn and changed the two-way’s frequency to Black Tide’s designated emergency channel. She pressed the transmit lever and held the radio up to her lips.

  “This is G-Squad One to any Black Tide elements out there. Reply if you can hear me. I say again: This is G-Squad One to any Black Tide elements out there. Please reply if you’re receiving this.”

  Gaby lowered the radio and waited.

  Five seconds…

  Ten…

  She tried again: “This is G-Squad One to any Black Tide elements out there. Reply if you can hear me. I say again: This is G-Squad One to any Black Tide elements that may be out there. Reply if you can hear me.”

  Another five seconds…

  Then another ten…

  “Any Black Tide elements that can hear me. This is G-Squad One. Come in. If anyone’s out there who can hear me, please respond.”

  The handheld remained silent.

  She sighed and tried again anyway. “If there’s any Black Tide elements out there receiving this message, please respond.” She added, more resigned than she had intended, “Because I could really use some help, guys. I could really, really use some help right now…”

  This time she let thirty seconds go by, but the results were the same.

  Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

  She glanced up at the sky, hoping to see or hear something that would indicate there was anything up there other than birds. If Black Tide was looking for her, they would be sending one of their aircraft.

  But that was the big question, wasn’t it? If they were looking for her, and if they even had any semblance of her current whereabouts.

  She looked south. Kohl’s Port was somewhere down there. How far? She didn’t know, and Keo had no idea, either, because he didn’t even know the seaside town existed until she told him about it. That was the problem with a post-Purge world—too many cities and towns that hadn’t existed before, and those that did had new names.

  Fenton was one of those places. It had always existed, except it was just too small for anyone to notice before the world ended. Now it was growing—a “boom town,” according to everything Keo had heard—and it wouldn’t be long before people took notice, if they didn’t already.

  I don’t know what’s happening in that place, Lara, but I know it’s not good.

  And the question that had been hanging at the edge of her mind, ever since she learned about it (and Keo reinforced it last night):

  Why are they taking the women and children? What the hell is Fenton doing with them? What in God’s name is going on in that place?

  But the answers weren’t going to come to her while she stood in the front yard of an abandoned ranch. Right now, her priorities were simple—get back to Black Tide and tell them about what she’d seen and learned. About Fenton, about the raids, and about Buck and his Mercerians.

  You were right, Lara; the Mercerians didn’t just fade away into history. They’re still out there. Closer than we thought, as it turned out.

  She turned around to search for higher position. There was the barn’s second floor, but that might not be high enough to boost her radio’s lousy range. The highest point would be the roof of the two-story house to her left, on the other side of the office building. But how was she going to climb up there? Maybe if she found a ladder…

  Keo’s horse whinnied loudly behind her, and Gaby glanced over at it. When they locked eyes, the thoroughbred let loose another loud whinny.

  “What?” she said, just before she felt the burning sensation as the bullet drilled through her right thigh.

  Gaby stumbled, dropping the radio more out of shock than actual pain.

  Sniper!

  She twisted around, searching for the shooter. She hadn’t heard the shot (They’re using a suppressor!), but there was nothing behind her except the highway. And beyond it, a few rows of trees—

  Run, you idiot, run!

  She did. It was hard with what felt like acid burning its way through her right thigh, trying to carve out a hole the size of her fist down there. She reached down and flattened one hand over the wound—the blood oozing against her palm was surprisingly warm—while using her other hand to cling onto the slung rifle so she didn’t lose that, too.

  The radio. She’d dropped the radio!

  Gaby glanced back at it, on the ground, and spent half a heartbeat thinking about the pros and cons of going back for it, when something zipped! past her—just inches from nailing her left thigh—and struck the front of the barn ten meters in front of her.

  Forget the radio, you idiot. Run!

  She ran. Or hobbled. It was probably more of a hobble since every ounce of pressure she put on her right leg was akin to someone stabbing her in the thigh repeatedly with a knife. She gritted her teeth and took her hand away from the wound so she could run instead of just hobble—

  Zip! Zip! as two subsonic rounds slashed past her and struck the barn again, very close to the first bullet. All three rounds had been low on purpose, which meant they were trying to (cripple) wound her in the legs. As slow as she was running, it wouldn’t have taken very much to nail her in her exposed back if that had been their intention.

  Stop thinking and run!

  She caught a flicker of movement from her left side and glanced over to find Keo’s horse galloping away. She wasn’t sure where the animal was going, but it clearly knew it was more dangerous to remain anywhere close to her.

  You’re right, Keo, that is a smart horse!

  She was halfway to the wide-open barn doors when she shouted, “Keo!”

  Zip! as another silent round dug a divot into the ground in front and just an inch to the left side of her pistoning legs.

  “Keo!”

  She glanced up at the open loft doors just as Keo appeared. “What—” he started to say when a healthy chunk of the wood above his head vanished in a torrent of bullets.

  Keo spun and dove out of view.

  While the shooters (There has to be more than one!) were concentrating their fire on Keo, Gaby used the opportunity to dash the remaining five meters to the barn. She grabbed one of the doors and dragged it over, and it locked into place with a loud banging clank!

  She ran for the second door when two bullets struck the already-closed door about knee-high. She ignored the near-miss and slammed the second door closed, just as two more rounds punched into the other side with two echoing pek-pek!

  Her chest was pounding when she lifted the heavy two-by-fours and slid them into place, then shoved the locks home. She didn’t allow herself to breathe until the doors were secured and she had backpedaled a good twenty feet away from them. She stumbled on her own retreating legs and had to grab a wall to keep from falling.

  Gaby looked down at the blood pooling around her right leg and sighed. The bullet had gone through her right thigh about an inch from the edge. There should have been a lot of pain after what she’d put it through, but maybe it was because of what she had put it through that there was just a numbness down there.

  She hobbled over to the ladder and shouted, “Keo! You still alive up there?”

  “Yeah!” Keo shouted back down. His voice came from behind he
r, near the loft doors. “You?”

  “I’m hit.”

  “How bad?”

  “One in the thigh. You got anything?”

  “One in the thigh’s better than two in the head.”

  “Gee, thanks. I meant, you got anything for that?”

  She heard him chuckling through the open trapdoor. “You’re in luck.”

  Right. Luck.

  Then, Maybe he’s right. It could have been worse. They could have been shooting to kill instead of just trying to wound me.

  Because that was exactly why they had shot her in the thigh and was still trying to hit her down there as she fled. Buck’s orders.

  She glanced back at the door when one of Keo’s tactical packs fell through the trapdoor behind her.

  “Enjoy,” Keo said. She looked up but couldn’t see him, though she could hear him already moving back to the loft doors.

  Gaby picked up the bag and sifted through it. She found a small first-aid kit and took it out, then sat down on the floor and went to work.

  Keo’s right, this could have been a lot worse. I could be in here bleeding all by myself.

  Clink-clink-clink as brass casings pelted the floorboards above her. Keo, firing that suppressed submachine gun of his.

  Definitely could be a lot worse.

  “What’s going on?” she shouted.

  “Just keeping them honest,” Keo shouted back.

  “Can you see them?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Across the highway.”

  Shit, Gaby thought, wondering if the shooters were what she had seen last night. But for that to be true, the Buckies had to have snuck into position during the night. During the dead of night. Something like that took a lot of guts.

  Either that, or stupidity.

  “Buckies?” she shouted.

  “I’m guessing!” Keo shouted back down.

  “How many?”

  “I can’t tell. You gonna die on me down there?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Gaby said, and thought, No way in hell I’m dying out here. No way in goddamn hell.