The Purge of Babylon: A Novel of Survival

by Sam Sisavath

  “Is that…?” Carly began.

  “Yes,” Lara said. “Come on.”

  She turned and grabbed Carly’s arm and dragged her back into the room. Carly went along hesitantly, her eyes darting back up the hallway.

  Lara slammed the door shut and twisted the lever up ninety degrees to lock it. She had no illusions that the door would hold. At least, not for very long. What she wouldn’t give to have one of those steel doors they had over at Operations.

  Behind them, Elise and Vera were sitting on a small cot. They looked back at her, terror visible in their big eyes, even brave and usually stoic Vera.

  “Lara?” Elise said, her voice soft, barely audible.

  “It’ll be alright, sweetheart,” she said, trying to smile back at the girl. “Everything will be fine.”

  “What do we do?” Carly asked, her voice visibly shaking.

  “We stay here,” Lara said, remembering Will’s words. “Will and Danny will come for us. But we have to stay here. Whatever happens, we don’t go out that door. Whatever we hear, whatever knocks against it, we stay inside.”

  Carly nodded, and they looked back toward the door and took a few steps away from it.

  Then they heard it again, the same noise that had stopped Lara in her tracks in the hallway. It sounded louder this time, closer.

  “Oh my God,” Carly whispered. “Girls, stay back. Stay back…”

  The noise was screaming.

  Screaming and gunfire…

  …and more screaming…

  CHAPTER 41

  WILL

  THIRTY-SIX SECONDS.

  That was how long it took the Door to open and close. Exactly thirty-six seconds. Will knew because he had timed it to the very second.

  Thirty-six seconds.

  It wasn’t necessarily a long time. He could do a lot of things in thirty-six seconds, including kill a man. Hell, he could kill a man in less time than that. A lot less time.

  Thirty-six seconds was also more than enough time for a few hundred ghouls to get into the facility. His tiny shred of optimism was that there were so many of them out there, jammed into the clearing, that there might be a stampede effect, and they would somehow become a hindrance to one another as they all tried to make for the Door at the same time.

  Bullshit.

  It took the Door thirty-six seconds to open, then another thirty-six to close. However many made it through in the first thirty-six seconds, nearly the same amount would also get through before the Door could close back up. He had never been particularly good at math, and numbers were never his game, but even he knew that it was a hell of a lot.

  The Door had been opening for two seconds when Danny raced forward and snatched the pendant from Kate.

  It had been opening for four seconds when Will grabbed Lara’s wrist and screamed at her: “Go back to Carly and the kids and lock yourselves in their room! We’ll come for you! Go!”

  Then Lara was gone, but he didn’t watch her go. He was too busy firing at the first ghoul that landed on the top steps, even as Danny backpedaled toward him, still pressing the pendant as if it were going to help. Danny being Danny though, that didn’t seem to deter him one bit.

  The bullet didn’t stop the ghoul who glowered at him almost mockingly even as more ghouls fell through the opening above it.

  Will backpedaled and shouted, “Danny, Armory!”

  Danny slipped Ben’s pendant around his neck, turned and ran. Will was right behind him, counting down the seconds in his head.

  Thirty seconds…

  He reached back and fired down the hall as the first two ghouls bounded down the steps after them. As he fired and ran, he saw Kate, staring back, blood pumping out of the hole in her chest.

  The hole he was responsible for. He had done that. He had shot her. Had she done it on purpose? Made him shoot her? She pointed her gun at Lara. She must have known he wouldn’t allow that. Even if it hadn’t been Lara, even if it had been someone else, he would never have allowed her to shoot someone, not after she had already shot Ben and Rick and Davies.

  But it had been Lara, which made the split-second decision a non-decision.

  He watched Kate now, as the ghouls raced around her, like a black ocean parting, leaving her dry in its wake. The sight of it almost made him stop in his tracks.

  Almost.

  Then he was turning the corner, going left toward Operations, with Danny right beside him.

  They hadn’t gone more than a few yards when the first ghoul slid around the corner. Danny shot it in the head, and the ghoul stumbled back and slammed into two others. He emptied the rest of his Glock into them, but they absorbed the bullets and kept coming. He might as well be throwing rocks at them.

  No, that wasn’t true—rocks might have been more effective.

  Twenty-five seconds…

  Danny was running beside him. “The girls!” he screamed.

  “Lara’s got them!” he shouted back.

  He reloaded as he ran.

  “You shot Kate!” Danny shouted.

  “I know!”

  “I can’t believe you shot your ex-girlfriend, man!”

  Will glanced at Danny who was grinning, on the verge of laughing. “It was a rocky break-up!” he shouted back.

  Danny burst out laughing, just as the ghouls caught up to them.

  They emptied their Glocks back down the hall, watching the nearest ghouls cartwheel backward and fall, only to bounce back up onto their feet seconds later. The bullets weren’t stopping them, but the concussive force was enough to throw them off their balance.

  Barely.

  Twenty seconds…

  He heard gunshots and screaming from other parts of the facility.

  From the Quarters.

  He prayed Lara made it to Carly and the girls in time. This was all going to be for nothing if they weren’t safe. She was important to him, and he was always better when he had something to protect, someone to protect. That was Lara, and he didn’t want to let go. Not now. Not after all he and Danny and the others had endured.

  He had already lost Kate…

  The radio bumped against his hip, and he fought the urge to reach for it and waste precious seconds trying to reach Lara. She must have made it to Carly by now. She had a good head start. Lara was smart. He was sure she made it.

  Fifteen seconds…

  He turned another corner and saw the Control Room up ahead. They ran past it. Were Ben and Rick still in there, where Kate had shot them and left them? He considered risking a glance but at the last second, decided against it. It would cost him precious seconds, and depending on what he saw, it could cost him more.

  Not now…

  They turned another corner, and each time they did the ghouls were gaining on them. Finally they turned yet another corner, and there, at the very end of the hallway, was the Armory with its steel door. Unlocked, like always.

  At least, he hoped. Maybe Kate had locked it, to throw another obstacle in front of them. God, he hoped not.

  Ten seconds…

  He raced toward the Armory at full speed, loading his third and final magazine into the Glock. Danny was already on his second and last, and fired his final bullet, knocking a ghoul out of the air in mid-leap. Danny tossed the Glock to lighten his load.

  Will shouted, “Go go go!”

  Danny sped past him. Will slowed down long enough to throw his arm back and empty his final magazine into the mass of ghouls bounding up the hallway after them. He had forgotten how fast they were, how completely single-minded when they attacked.

  Five seconds…

  Danny reached the Armory and pulled the door open, lunging inside. Thank God it wasn’t locked. Danny was behind the door when it was Will’s turn.

  He tossed the Glock, spun, and lunged inside. Danny slammed the door shut a heartbeat after he entered and turned the lever ninety degrees to lock it, and all it took was another heartbeat before the first ghoul crashed into the other side of the door,
unable to stop its own forward momentum. Danny stumbled back, out of breath, as ghouls continued to batter at the door.

  Zero.

  “Now!” Will shouted.

  Danny pulled Ben’s pendant out and pressed it. They kept perfectly still and listened to the gears grinding again after a brief pause.

  The Door began closing, but it wouldn’t close completely for thirty-six seconds.

  “How many you think got in?” Danny asked, doubling over at the waist, breathing heavily.

  “A hell of a lot,” Will said, grabbing a rack of guns to catch his breath.

  “That’s a lot.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot.” He straightened up and looked around at the Armory, still gasping for air. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

  He grabbed a pair of assault vests from a shelf and tossed one to Danny. He grabbed the magazines with silver bullets. They were marked with a white “X” along the sides. He grabbed a new Glock and reloaded it.

  Their M4A1s were where they always left them, along a separate rack in a corner. They grabbed the rifles, loaded them, then grabbed the Remington 870s from another rack. They filled up on ammo, shoving in as many magazines and shells as the pouches would hold. He also grabbed a handful of glow sticks from a box.

  “We going to a rave first?” Danny asked.

  “The turbine,” Will said. “In case it goes…”

  “Now you’re just being paranoid.”

  “I’m being cautious.”

  Danny shrugged, then grabbed a handful of glow sticks and stuffed them into one of his pouches, too. “Why the hell not.”

  “Sheep,” Will grinned.

  “Baaaaaaah,” Danny said.

  As he fed shells filled with silver buckshots into the Remington, he heard the solid thoomp! as the Door finally closed shut above them, and suddenly the world was silent again, except for the hum of the turbine down the hallway from them.

  The ghouls had stopped pounding on the door, and they could hear the sudden burst of violence—screams and gunshots—erupting around the facility. As one scream faded, another took its place. The gunshots were random in nature, quick shots followed by silence.

  He forced himself to keep stuffing magazines into his pouch, trying his best to shut out the noises outside the Armory. There was nothing he could do for them now, for those caught outside when the ghouls flooded in.

  “It’s been a while,” Danny said. “Maybe we should make sure they’re okay…?”

  He nodded. It was rare when he could hear fear in Danny’s voice. Danny wasn’t afraid for himself, it was for Carly and Vera.

  Will unclipped the radio and pressed it. “Lara, can you hear me? Come in.”

  He waited, but there was no reply. Danny had stopped what he was doing to listen.

  Will tried again: “Lara, come in. Can you hear me?”

  Several excruciating seconds later they finally heard Lara’s voice: “Will, thank God you’re okay. Is Danny with you?”

  “He’s with me.” He exchanged a relieved look with Danny, who went back to reloading and stuffing. “We’re in the Armory right now. Are you safe?”

  “Yes,” Lara said, her voice trembling noticeably. “For now.”

  “What about the girls? Did you get to Carly and the girls?”

  “Yes, they’re here with me right now. We’re all fine for the time being.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “We’re locked inside Carly’s room,” Lara continued. “I can hear them outside, Will. They’re going from hallway to hallway, room to room, breaking down doors.” She paused, and he could hear her breathing as she tried to find the right words. “Will, I don’t think this door is going to hold them when they get to us.”

  “We’re coming to get you, but until then, grab whatever you can find—the bed, the dresser, everything—and pile them in front of the door. Everything, Lara.”

  “We’re doing that now. But please hurry.”

  “We will.” He hesitated for a moment. “Lara…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Hurry.”

  “Soon,” he said again.

  Will clipped the radio back on his belt. He looked over at Danny, who had moved back to the door, one ear pressed up against the thick steel.

  “Anything?” he asked.

  “Squat. Nada.”

  “They’re going after easier targets,” Will said. “The Armory door is steel, and it’s not going to break anytime soon. But the living quarters have wooden doors. They’ll break sooner or later. Dead but not stupid, remember?”

  “I’ll settle for dead. Again. Whatever.” He looked over at Will. “So what’s the plan?”

  “What choice do we have?”

  “You think we have enough ammo?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

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

  “Can’t be helped. We have to get to the girls now.”

  “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

  Will walked over to face the door. Danny wrapped his fingers around the lever, and they exchanged a brief look. He nodded and Danny mouthed down from five, four, three, two, one…

  Danny twisted the lever and swung the door open, and Will immediately stepped through, shotgun swinging up, looking for a target.

  He found an empty hallway instead, with dark black flesh sticking to the other side of the steel door. There were hundreds of bright red bloody footprints on the floor, and bloody handprints along the walls and ceiling.

  The ceiling. What the hell?

  Danny swung the Armory door shut, then stood beside him.

  “Ready?” Will asked.

  “Not yet, can I have a moment?”

  “No. Let’s go.”

  They moved forward.

  He tried to maneuver around the bloody footprints on the floor, but after a while gave up and stepped into them instead. Danny did the same. There were going to be bloody prints all over the facility by the time tonight was over. There was no point in avoiding it.

  As they neared the turn, a gunshot echoed through the hallways, followed by screams. Both had come from the other side of the facility—the Quarters. That was where everyone was now. It was night, and Operations was usually empty except for the Control Room, and maybe Peter in the Turbine Room, but even Peter had the good sense to sleep in his own cot every now and then. Will could hear and feel the hum of the turbine, so it was still running. Maybe Peter was in there now, safe.

  They were five meters from the turn when he stopped, and Danny immediately froze next to him. They exchanged a brief look, Will hoping to see in Danny’s face that he heard it, too. Danny nodded.

  Footsteps. Soft, padding footsteps. The kind generated by bare feet against concrete floors. There were a lot of them. Maybe a dozen. Maybe more.

  He and Danny moved as one, turning the corner together, side by side. The hallway was slick with blood, and four ghouls were bent over a body. He couldn’t tell who it was right away. The face was covered in blood, and the arms and legs were twitching, flopping against the floor like fishes on land. There was a gun nearby. A six-shot revolver.

  Mike.

  The ghouls covered Mike like a blanket, two suckling at his thighs while two more slurped greedily at his throat. Their dark, shrunken forms reminded him of children.

  He’s still alive.

  Mike’s fingers twitched in the pool of blood that gushed from his wounds. The slurp-slurp-slurp sound filled the hallway.

  The nearest ghoul, drinking at Mike’s right thigh, looked up and saw them standing at the corner. Blood drooled from its chin, the lower half of its face covered in a thick layer of red paint, and its dark black eyes glinted in the bright ceiling lights. It looked drunk, lost in ecstasy.

  Will shot it in the chest. The ghoul took the brunt of the buckshot and was thrown halfway down the hallway.

  Danny shot the second ghoul, while Will sho
t the final two, though it only took one shell. The silver buckshots did their job with brutal efficiency, spreading between the two crouched figures, splattering thick black blood among the bright crimson red.

  He and Danny waited for more ghouls to appear in the hallway, to respond to the loud booms of gunfire, but to their surprise none came. Instead, only silence once their shotgun blasts finished their fading echoes.

  “You think they heard that?” Danny asked.

  “Nah,” he said.

  He walked quickly toward Mike, whose eyes were still open, though he didn’t look as if he had control of his body anymore. Mike was a mechanic, he remembered, who spent most of his free time up on the surface fixing the vehicles they used for their runs. He was a nice enough guy, who insisted on hanging onto his revolver. It was a .36 Smith and Wesson and, to hear Mike tell it, a gift from his father, passed down through the generations. Will wasn’t sure about that. The gun looked pretty new to him, but Mike was a good guy, and Will didn’t feel like calling him on his story.

  He stood over Mike now, looking down at the blood-splattered face, wondering how he could still be alive with so much of his blood covering the long hallway. Mike’s lips quivered. Will wasn’t sure if he was trying to say something or if it was just muscle spasms. Large, gaping wounds ran along Mike’s neck and legs. His neck had been easier to get to, but in order to get at his thighs the ghouls had chewed through his pajama pants. It was a grisly sight.

  Danny said, “Want me to do it?”

  “No,” Will said.

  He drew his Glock and shot Mike once in the forehead. The body went still on the floor as a thin trickle of blood dribbled out underneath Mike’s head, and gravity pulled it into a larger pool nearby.

  They continued up the hallway, stepping through puddles of red and black blood, slick against the soles of their boots. He strained to hear, but couldn’t detect anything around the turn up ahead. There were two more turns, he remembered, recalling the facility’s layout in his mind, then the Entrance Hallway beyond that.

  And from there, the Quarters on the other side of the facility.