Road to Babylon (Book 8): Daybreak

by Sisavath, Sam

  Keo glanced down at his watch.

  7:25 p.m.

  For some reason he had expected more time to have passed, because 7:25 p.m. meant he was still far, far away from the warm embrace of daybreak. At least he was well-dressed for Paxton’s chilly environment, with the days on the road having prepared him for the cold conditions out here. Texas didn’t get many cold nights, but after the sweltering heat of summer, any significant drop in temperature was noticeable.

  Now where did he lose Mirabelle? Somewhere up ahead. Not exactly detailed directions, but good enough for tonight. All he had to do was stick to the back alleys with the street always to his right. As long as he could see the wide-open roads, he would know he was moving in the right direction.

  Keo jogged across another alleyway and slid against the wall of a flower shop—a place called stacy’s roses, the name partially visible on the glass portion of the rear door into the building—when he smelled it.

  It wasn’t roses, either.

  Every part of Keo froze except for the fingers of his right hand, which flexed against the grip of the KA-BAR to get the blood flowing and make sure he still had the ability to strike when he needed to.

  A ghoul. Just one, but that was definitely a ghoul.

  It was perched on an aluminum garbage can in the alleyway between Stacy’s flower shop and the building next door. Its back was to Keo, the malformed spine giving the creature the appearance of a gargoyle sans wings, waiting on a rooftop ready to pounce on an unwitting victim walking below. A thin streak of moonlight bounced off its domed head as it sat there, waiting, waiting…

  What was it waiting for?

  The monster was facing the street, so it didn’t see Keo when he almost took a step out from behind the flower shop. If it heard or sensed him back here, it hadn’t reacted, and it would have. The black eyes were not known for their ability to play possum, and they didn’t know the meaning of the word patience.

  No, it was obvious it didn’t know he was back here, and Keo wanted to keep it that way. That meant not moving for the next ten or so minutes, which was easier said than done. It was a good thing he was well-covered, or else the cold would have turned his joints stiff from the lack of action. He had slowed down his breathing so the spurts of mist leaving his mouth were smaller and less apt to be noticed even if the creature did happen to turn—

  Its head snapped with surprising speed in his direction.

  Keo pulled back until he was completely behind the corner. He stopped breathing, even as he mentally prepared himself to strike. If he had to act, it would be a worst-case scenario because as soon as this one lone ghoul spotted him, the rest would as well. They would “see” him through its eyes and come running, and the chase would be on again.

  He really, really didn’t want the chase to be on again.

  Keo imagined the ghoul’s dark black eyes scouring the side of stacy’s roses. Had he made a noise? Breathed too hard? Or did he shuffle his feet without realizing it? It could have been anything.

  Or nothing.

  Maybe the creature had just turned its head for some reason other than because he’d given himself away. But he’d find out one way or another. If it saw him, it’d act. And if it didn’t—

  A loud clang! echoed from the alley around the corner.

  The aluminum trash can, toppling over.

  Ah, hell!

  Keo stepped out from behind the corner even as the ghoul bounded across the alley on all fours in his direction. It moved incredibly fast, almost flying across the floor, while its eyes zeroed in on him.

  …its eyes zeroed in on him.

  That meant the others would know where he was, now. It was over. He’d lost the element of surprise. The only thing left was to run back to the warehouse, get inside the back office, and pray the filing cabinet and desk held.

  But first!

  Keo slashed, the KA-BAR gutting the creature from one side of its chest to the other. It flopped to the floor even as a spray of black blood hit Keo’s right cheek. More splashed the front of his clothes and long sleeves.

  He flinched at the foul stink, the smell as bad now as it’d been all the other times. But there was no time to clean himself, so he turned in the direction he’d come. He could still make it back to the warehouse if he ran. It wasn’t that far back.

  What about the bag? a voice asked. Lara needs it, remember?

  Shit. The bag.

  But he couldn’t retrieve it if he was dead, so Keo took off back toward the warehouse.

  Shouldn’t have left the warehouse in the first place! Jesus Christ, what were you thinking?

  The tap-tap-tap of bare feet on cold, hard concrete cut through his thoughts, and Keo slid to a stop just as two—three—four ghouls turned the corner in front of him.

  Too late. It was too late to retreat back to the warehouse!

  Keo spun around and ran in the other direction.

  Hit ’em where they ain’t, right, Willie? he wanted to shout out loud while laughing hysterically, but of course he was too busy sucking in a deep lungful of suddenly-tarnished cold Paxton air to do that.

  He glanced back, praying there were just still the four of them back there, because he could deal with four. It wouldn’t be easy, but four was manageable.

  God, let there just be four back there.

  Let there just be four…

  There were more than four.

  Fuck!

  They scampered across the ground, looking more like insects than creatures that once stood tall and proud and on two feet. Their hands seemed to almost dig into the floor as they propelled their thin frames forward, moonlight flashing across slick flesh and at least one broken skull. The sight of that one—the entire right half of its head missing, running among its complete fellow ghouls—was almost enough to make Keo stop, turn around, and ask how it was still alive (Well, kind of) in its current condition.

  Keo gripped the KA-BAR tighter so he wouldn’t lose it. If that were to happen…

  Good thoughts! Think good thoughts, pal!

  He had no idea where he was going, just that any place in front of him was better than what was behind him. The sides of brick and wood and steel buildings flashed by the corners of his eyes, some with doors inside and others without. The back alley got deeper and darker as he went, and Keo didn’t stop.

  He couldn’t stop. At least, not if he wanted to stay alive. And he definitely wanted that!

  He was making a lot of noise now, but that couldn’t be avoided. It was a little difficult to tiptoe when there was a horde of hungry ghouls behind you. Keo didn’t need to smell or hear them—though those were easy enough to do, too—because he could feel them back there. It was all in the air that he breathed in, as if someone had poured a steaming landfill over the area. He might have vomited from the smell if he could afford to take even a second off from running.

  But he couldn’t, so he kept pumping his legs, and the buildings appeared and disappeared around him. Alleyways came and went, and each time he crossed them, Keo thought about turning right and heading into the streets. He didn’t, though. There was nothing out there except more open space to introduce even more ghouls. And he had plenty of those right now, back here where everything was crammed.

  A new alleyway, except this time Keo glimpsed at least two ghouls appearing off the streets, their dark shapes flashing across the corner of his right eye. If he didn’t already know what they were, he might have thought they were running children. Very, very quick children that seemed to glide across the ground instead of running over it on the two legs God had given them.

  Definitely not children!

  The backs of buildings flashed by, including signs and names.

  Was that another auto body shop?

  What the hell was a BLAST-OFF POINT?

  He was moving too fast to get a good read. That was good. That was actually very good. Going fast was better than going slow, because he knew for a fact the ghouls weren’t going to s
low down. They didn’t get tired. They never got tired. Which meant Keo had to run faster, and faster, and faster.

  A sudden flash in front of him—

  What?

  —just before he heard the very loud pop! of a rifle shot.

  He didn’t see the bullet and wasn’t prepared for it, but the realization of what just happened caused him to skid to a sudden stop. He lost his footing and almost flipped over but somehow managed to remain upright even if it probably looked comical to anyone watching him.

  He waited for the pain, but there was none.

  He wasn’t shot!

  Keo glanced back in time to see one of the ghouls picking itself up from the ground, but before it could fully right itself, it was trampled underneath a forest of crashing limbs.

  “Move your ass, dipshit!”

  The voice had come from in front of him.

  “Dipshit?” Keo thought even as he looked forward again.

  “Now, dipshit! Now!”

  Again with the “dipshit!”

  Keo was moving his ass as fast as he could, running toward the sound of the voice. The only reason he did that instead of looking for another direction to take was because the gunshot hadn’t been meant for him. Had the shooter wanted to take him out, they would have already. He hadn’t seen the weapon or even sensed another presence up ahead until the shot was already made.

  Besides, it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go but forward. The only other clear path was to backtrack, and he couldn’t very well do that. There were the side alleys he kept seeing out of the corners of his eyes, but there was no telling how many—

  Three more poured into another alleyway.

  Yup, can’t go there!

  So Keo ran toward a black steel door that had opened up in front of him about twenty meters away. The door’s color was what had helped it to blend in with the night and darkness, making it practically invisible until now.

  Sudden movement as someone moved inside the doorframe, followed by the very distinct shape of a rifle poking out from the shadows. Bright muzzle flashes as the new weapon opened fire.

  Keo ducked his head and veered slightly to the right as he continued to run.

  Fifteen meters…

  …ten…

  The rifle was spitting a stream of fire now, its bullets passing Keo and, he assumed, hitting ghouls behind him. He could have confirmed that guess by taking a quick glance over his shoulder, but Keo didn’t do that. That would have cost him a second. Maybe two. He couldn’t afford either at the moment.

  So he ran instead, zeroing in on the open door and the firing rifle, when another barrel appeared next to the first. This one was positioned halfway down to the floor, and it too opened up until all Keo could hear was the pop-pop-pop of two semiautomatic rifles firing simultaneously, their muzzle flashes lighting up more parts of the ugly door along with two figures in the doorway, one crouching while the other stood.

  Five meters…

  “Get back, he’s coming in!” the standing shooter shouted.

  The second shooter stood up and backed into the shadows with the first, leaving the doorway wide open for him. Keo never slowed down and all but lunged through the opening and—

  He crashed into a figure standing in the darkness, and the two of them spilled to the floor. Keo somehow managed to hold onto his KA-BAR as a door slammed shut behind him with such force that it echoed inside his ears, fighting for space with his heavy breathing.

  “Sonofabitch!” a voice from very nearby shouted.

  “Lock it, lock the door!” someone else screamed.

  “What do you think I’m doing?” a third voice replied.

  Keo didn’t have to wait long to hear the inevitable: The loud and persistent bam-bam-bam! as ghouls crashed into the door on the other side, like machine-gun fire.

  Bam-bam-bam!

  Bam-bam-bam!

  Bam-bam-bam!

  “Get off me!” the first voice shouted. Keo figured out why it had sounded so nearby earlier; because it was coming from underneath him.

  Before he could “get off” the voice’s owner, a pair of hands did the work for him. Then, for good measure, a knee sank into his rib cage. He let out a grunt and rolled over onto a cold, hard floor before sitting up.

  Click! as a light turned on.

  It was some kind of portable flashlight taped to the back of a hand. The LED was bright enough that Keo could easily make out the hard faces of three people gathered around him, staring at him. He couldn’t help but immediately notice that they were all women. The one he’d landed on top of was brushing at her clothes as she picked herself up.

  “What should we do with him?” one of them asked.

  “Shoot him,” the one next to her said.

  “We just rescued him.”

  “Whose bright idea was that?”

  The first exchanged a look with the one Keo had run into.

  The third one, the oldest of the three, sighed. “Never mind.” Then, turning back to Keo, “So who are you, mister, and why are you running around out there with nothing but a knife?”

  Five

  Things got better after that. Or, at least, no one was pointing weapons at him. Which, for Keo, was the best definition of “better.”

  Unlike Keo, his rescuers were fully armed—holstered sidearms, magazine pouches, and semiautomatic rifles. They were also slinging packs. The only thing they were lacking, from what he could tell, was proper ammo, but he wasn’t about to chide them on that. He was the guy running around with nothing but a knife, after all, so who was he to talk?

  “You got a name?” the oldest one of the three, who had identified herself as Sharon, asked. Even though no one had said it, she was clearly in charge. Keo could read it in her body language and the way the two younger women responded to her. A true alpha in a room always revealed itself without having to try very hard.

  “Keo.”

  “What’s that mean?” the youngest one asked.

  “What’s what mean?”

  “Your name.”

  “What about it?”

  “You said KO? Like knockout?”

  “Uh, no. Keo. K-e-o. It’s my name.”

  “Oh. I thought it stood for something.”

  “Nope. Just plain ol’ boring Keo.”

  “Well, it’s a weird name.”

  Keo shrugged. “Everything else was taken.”

  “Huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what are you doing running around out here with just that knife, Keo?” Sharon asked before the young one could say anything else.

  “I didn’t always just have a knife,” Keo said. “I look dumb, but I’m not that dumb.”

  Liz, the woman who Keo had fallen into and gotten a knee in the rib cage from as a reward, snorted.

  “True story,” Keo said.

  “Whatever,” Liz said.

  “So what happened?” Sharon asked him.

  “What happened what?” Keo said.

  This was less an interrogation and more of a What were you doing running around out there by yourself, you dumbass? questioning. Keo considered telling them about the bag but didn’t. He couldn’t risk them taking an interest in it. It was probably paranoia on his part, but what the hell, better safe than sorry. He really, really didn’t fancy going back to Galveston for more.

  “How’d you lose your weapons?” Sharon was asking him.

  “I didn’t have a choice. They jumped my horse. I used up everything I had, until I only had this,” Keo said, tapping his sheathed KA-BAR.

  “You were at the big warehouse,” Liz said. It wasn’t a question. “That’s why all those crawlers were in there.”

  Keo nodded. “That was me.”

  “What were you doing in there?”

  “Trying not to get eaten.”

  “Oh yeah? And how was that going?” Jackson, the youngest one, asked.

  “Pretty good, actually. I’m still in one piece.”

  “Barel
y.”

  “Barely’s good enough these days.”

  She smiled. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

  “Yeah, you can,” Liz said. “It’s not just about surviving anymore. We did that during The Purge. Anyone can just survive.”

  Keo didn’t ask her what she meant by that. The women had clearly been through a lot in the short time since night fell over Paxton. He could tell that much from the way they moved—ready to shoot anything that wasn’t them—and the state of their clothes certainly gave it away. Not their choice of wardrobe—which was long pants, long-sleeve shirt and jackets, and boots—but the black blood that speckled them. They might not have managed to kill ghouls with their bullets, but they’d spilled plenty of creature blood and gotten it on them.

  No, these weren’t innocent damsels in distress. They’d been out here and knew how to handle themselves. Which, he guessed, made it all the more curious that they were using regular ammo. Shouldn’t they have known better?

  They were inside another, smaller building that was part of a car wash next door. Some kind of office space, with brick walls. The only two ways in were made of solid metal. One of those was up the hallway, where Keo could still hear the almost dull thump-thump-thump of ghouls pounding away on the other side. The front door was down the hallway and inside a lobby, and according to Sharon, was equally strong. The strength of those entrances was why the trio had chosen this place after their encounter with the ghouls at the warehouse.

  “It’s just the three of you?” Keo asked them.

  “There was more of us,” Sharon said. “When we ran into that nest at your warehouse, we got split up. It was chaos.”

  “What happened to the others?”

  The three survivors exchanged a glance. There was enough light coming from the LED strapped to Jackson’s wrist for Keo to know the women weren’t sure how much to tell him. Or if they even wanted to.

  “We don’t know,” Jackson finally said.