After The Purge: Vendetta Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Sisavath, Sam

  “His sister,” Wash said.

  “Oh.”

  Keith remained perfectly still looking out the window, peering between two rusted rebars. Wash didn’t think the man could actually see anything because he couldn’t, and he was pretty sure he had better night vision than everyone in the room.

  Another scream, and this time it was much longer, and female.

  Wash stared out the window, looking up and down the street, but couldn’t see anything out there. There were thick, dark patches of shadows everywhere, and Wash could just barely make out silhouettes peeking out from behind the windows on a two-story brick building across the street from them. They weren’t the only ones who had heard the screams, apparently.

  “Keith?” Wash said. “Is it her?”

  “Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “It’s Lyla…”

  Twenty-Three

  “It’s Lyla,” Keith said again, almost as if he were trying to convince himself and not the other people in the building with him.

  “Are you sure?” Wash asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure? Because I can’t see shit out there.”

  “Neither can I, but that’s her voice.”

  You know what your sister sounds like when she’s screaming? Wash wanted to ask, but it was probably not the most appropriate question at the moment. Besides, if it wasn’t Lyla, who else would it be? She was out there in the dark, alone, because—

  “You let her run off by herself,” the Old Man said.

  I didn’t have any choice.

  “Didn’t you?”

  No.

  “Didn’t you?”

  Wash didn’t answer.

  He said out loud instead, “Anything? Can you see anything now?”

  “No, still nothing,” Keith said.

  Wash glanced back at Ana, but she too shook her head. She was standing on the right side of Keith, with Wash on the left. The kid, Chris, had remained where she was and was either too scared to get up and join them or— There was no or that he could come up with.

  Wash focused on the darkness outside the building. And that was all he could see—darkness. Patches of shadows in the alleyways between buildings and slight movements that may or may not have been other Jasper residents peeking out from behind rebar-secured windows. Not that he could be absolutely certain of anything. Even the moon seemed to have gone shy, leaving very little light of any kind to work with.

  “What will the others do?” Wash asked.

  “The others?” Keith said.

  “Your people. What will they do?”

  “They’ll stay indoors. If it goes bad, they’ll use their basements.”

  “You guys have basements?”

  “Yes. The ones that didn’t have one, we put them in. We’ve been here since The Walk Out. We know what’s out there.”

  “You have a protocol,” Wash said.

  Keith nodded. He hadn’t, Wash noticed, taken his eyes off the darkness outside for even a second. “We had one before One Eye showed up, and we tweaked it afterwards. If everything goes to shit, the others will lock themselves underground and wait for morning.”

  “The basements are that strong?”

  “Against the black eyes, yeah.”

  “But it’s not just black eyes out there, Keith.”

  “Yeah, that’s the problem.”

  Understatement of the century, Wash thought, looking across and finding Ana already gazing in his direction. They locked eyes for a moment, and he thought he could read everything going through her mind:

  We just need to survive the night.

  We just need to get to morning.

  We just need to hold out that long.

  Wash glanced down at his watch. The second hand swept smoothly around the dial, the lumed indices indicating the time: 3:11 a.m.

  Tick-tick-tick-tick.

  Three and a half more hours left before morning.

  Tick-tick-tick-tick.

  Three and a half hours too much…

  Tick-tick-tick-tick…

  “Keith?” a voice called from outside.

  Wash looked up and out the window, then checked to see that Keith and Ana had heard it too, and that it wasn’t all in his mind. It wasn’t. Keith’s entire body had gone taut, and Ana’s mouth was slightly open as she stared outside.

  I guess they heard it, too.

  “Keith?” the same voice called out. “Can you hear me? Keith, please help me! Keith! God, Keith! Please!”

  It was a female voice, and Wash thought, Lyla. That’s Lyla.

  He hadn’t been sure before when he’d just heard the screams, but now that there were actual words, he couldn’t deny it.

  Had Lyla returned to Jasper on her own? But that didn’t make any sense. Why would she be screaming, then shouting Keith’s name, if that were the case? Wouldn’t she just walk back home and knock on a door—maybe even Keith’s—instead of making so much unnecessary noise and drawing attention to herself?

  Unless she didn’t have any choice…

  “Keith!” Lyla shouted again. She sounded far away, and her voice echoed slightly off the buildings around them. “Please help me! Please, Keith! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for leaving! Keith! I won’t do it again! I promise!”

  Keith, standing at the window between Wash and Ana, tightened his grip on the barrel of the AR rifle in his hands. His knuckles had turned ghostly.

  They couldn’t see Lyla out there, but there was no denying where her voice was coming from. The west end of town, the same direction Wash and the others had entered Jasper earlier. She was still too far away for them to catch any glimpses of her, but they had no problems hearing her.

  “It’s a trap,” Wash said. “You know that, right?”

  Keith didn’t answer him.

  “Keith,” Wash said.

  “I know, goddammit,” Keith said, grunting the words out as if each one caused him a great deal of pain.

  “It’s out there, isn’t it?” Ana asked.

  Wash nodded. “Yeah. That’s a good bet.”

  “Shit,” Ana said, almost whispering the word.

  He could read the fear on her face, but Wash didn’t share it.

  Tonight. One way or another, it ends tonight.

  And he was ready for it. He had been ready, for days, weeks, and months now.

  “This is why you chased it all the way down here,” the Old Man said. “Might as well get it over with tonight, kid.”

  Might as well, Wash thought.

  “They’re using her, aren’t they?” Ana asked. “They’re making her do this. It’s making her do this.”

  “It’s playing,” Wash said. “That’s what they do. The blue eyes. They like to play games.”

  “Is that what it did with you? Back at the farmhouse with the girl?”

  “The farmhouse was just another one in a long line of sick games. This is how they get their kicks. They’re sadistic motherfuckers that way.”

  “Jesus,” Ana said softly.

  Wash turned to Keith. The man’s eyes were glued on the window. Wash couldn’t be sure if he’d looked away for even a brief heartbeat.

  “Keith!” Lyla called out again. She’d been quiet for the last thirty or so seconds before that. “Keith, it’s me! Keith! Come help me! Please! Please! I’m so sorry for leaving. I promise, Keith, I promise I won’t do it again!”

  Wash stared at Keith, knowing exactly what was going through the other man’s mind at the moment. His first instincts were to talk Keith from doing what Wash knew he was about to do, but Wash didn’t follow through.

  It ends tonight. One way or another, it ends tonight.

  “Oh my God,” Ana whispered.

  Wash followed her gaze out the window. Something had appeared in the streets.

  No, not something, but someone.

  “Is that her?” Ana whispered.

  “I think so,” Wash said.

  It was hard to make her out as she walked slowly up the street.
Something looked off about the way she was moving, as if every tiny step caused her tremendous pain. She was also leaning slightly, favoring one side of her body. And just in case he wasn’t already 100 percent sure he was looking at a wounded Lyla, there was her voice, clearly coming from the approaching figure:

  “Keith! Please! It’s me! It’s Lyla! I’m hurt so bad, Keith! Are you there? Can you hear me? Please help me! I don’t think I can make it! Keith!”

  Every word that echoed up the street was like a dagger driving into Keith. His face tightened, and his mouth twisted. His eyes squinted, and he kept clutching and unclutching his grip around the rifle’s barrel.

  Then Keith took a sudden step back, away from the window, and glanced over at Wash. He didn’t say anything, but then he didn’t have to.

  “What about the girls?” Wash asked.

  Keith understood the question. He turned and hurried across the room.

  “Where’s he going?” Ana asked.

  “Dunno,” Wash said.

  They watched Keith as he reached the room in the back and swung the door open. It was a closet, not a bathroom. He crouched and yanked open what looked like a trapdoor in the floor.

  “Basement,” Wash said to Ana.

  Keith grabbed some items farther inside the closet space before standing up and walking back to them. He had slung his rifle and was holding a pump-action shotgun in one hand and another rifle in the other. He was also carrying a faded brown duffel bag by the strap.

  “Can you use this?” Keith asked, holding up the rifle slightly toward Wash.

  Wash took it. The weapon looked like a cross between a standard AR and the U.S. Army’s M4, but there was Heckler & Koch written on the side of the magazine well in white letters. Wash pulled out the magazine and thumbed the silver point on the 5.56 round at the top.

  “Yeah,” Wash said, “I can use it.”

  “Are you good with it?” Keith asked. He was staring hard at Wash.

  “Yeah,” Wash said.

  “I’ve seen him shoot,” Ana said. “He’s pretty good. Really good, actually.”

  Keith nodded, before looking past Wash at the window behind him.

  “It’s a trick,” Wash said. “You know that. It wants us out there.”

  “I know that, you know that, and it knows that,” Keith said. “But I still have to go out there.”

  “So you’re going to do exactly what it wants you to do?” Ana asked. Wash wasn’t sure if she sounded alarmed or dumbfounded. Maybe a little of both.

  “Doesn’t change anything. That’s still my sister out there.”

  Almost as if on cue, Lyla’s voice echoed from outside: “Keith! Oh God, Keith, please help me! Keith! Keith, it’s me! It’s Lyla! I’m hurt so bad. I need help. I don’t think I can make it. Keith! Can you hear me?”

  Wash locked eyes with Keith. The other man’s face was grim, but the determination was unabated.

  “It’s your town, and that’s your sister,” Wash said. “It’s your call how we play this.”

  “What?” Ana said. “Play what? What are you talking about?”

  Before Wash could answer, Keith jammed the shotgun into Ana’s hands, startling her, before he dug into the bag and took out a box of shells. Ana looked down at the gun and ammo in her hands, as if unsure how they got there.

  “For the girl,” Keith said, holding out a knife still in its sheath.

  Ana took it, glancing back quickly at Chris.

  “The closet,” Keith said, nodding at the small room in the back. “The trapdoor leads into a cellar. It’s small, but it’s reinforced. There are nonperishables down there and more ammo. You and the girl can last for some time if you have to.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ana asked him. When he didn’t answer, she turned to Wash and was about to ask the same thing, but she saw his face and didn’t. She said instead, “Wash, don’t. This is stupid. You know this is stupid.”

  “It has to end tonight,” Wash said. “I’m tired of hunting it. Sick and tired of it.”

  “So you’re just going to walk out there and let it kill you?”

  “That’s not the plan.”

  “Then what is the plan?”

  “When it shows itself, I’ll kill it. That’s the plan.”

  “That’s assuming it doesn’t have another army out there.”

  “She’s got a point,” Wash said to Keith.

  The Jasper man took out a pair of magazines from the bag and stuffed one into his pockets. He handed Wash two extra mags for his H&K. “That’s all I have. There’s more in the other buildings, but…”

  “They’ll have to do,” Wash said.

  He put one magazine in his back pocket and the other one into his front right side so it wouldn’t interfere with the sheathed kukri on his left hip. What he wouldn’t give for a decent pouch or a MOLLE vest to carry everything, though.

  “How about a tactical nuke while you’re at it?” the Old Man asked.

  Yeah, that’ll work, too.

  “Will the others help?” Wash asked Keith.

  Keith shook his head. “They’re not fighters. Most of them are like Jim. Older people. The few that can fight have families to think about. I wouldn’t ask them to risk their lives anyway.”

  “So it was always just you out there helping One Eye.”

  “It’s always been my job to look after them. That’s the reason I do everything. I promised them they’d be safe here.”

  “Keith!” Lyla shouted. Her voice sounded much closer that time, and Wash discovered why when he glanced out the window.

  She was almost at their building. Twenty meters, maybe less. And now that she had made up the distance, Wash could distinguish her from the darkness. She was still wearing the same black clothes from the last time he saw her outside the barn. And she was definitely hurt, holding onto one arm while dragging a leg behind her, leaving a continuous trail in her wake.

  Lyla knew exactly where they were, because she was staring in their direction. Or, more precisely, she knew where Keith stayed. Besides, it would have been hard not to know where to look because their building was the only one with a light flickering in the background.

  “Keith!” Lyla shouted. “Help me, Keith! God, it hurts! Keith! Please! It hurts so much!”

  Wash wondered if Lyla could see them standing on the other side of the rebars. They could see her, so it stood to reason she could make them out in return.

  He scanned the streets, then the buildings. They were as dark now as when he’d looked the last time. Maybe even more so, if that was possible. There was nothing out there that even remotely looked like a perching ghoul, black eyes or otherwise, that he could make out.

  But you’re out there, aren’t you? You’re watching this. Enjoying every second of it. Having fun at our expense.

  You bastard.

  “Wash,” Ana said from the other side of the window. Then, when Wash turned to her, “Don’t do this.”

  “I have to,” Wash said.

  “You don’t have to. Stay in here with us. With Chris and me.”

  Wash glanced at Keith. If the other man had heard Ana—and it would have been impossible for him not to, standing between them—he didn’t react to any of it.

  Wash met Ana’s eyes again. “That door and these bars can keep the black eyes out, but they won’t do a damn thing against One Eye. It’ll tear through them like paper. Even if I don’t do this, it’ll end tonight regardless.” He tried to smile, but it probably came out wrong. “I can’t keep this up, Ana. Chasing it down, playing its games… It has to end tonight.”

  “What if it kills you?” Ana asked.

  “Then it kills me.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  He smiled and was sure that one came out better. “I know, but you still chased after me, didn’t you?”

  She sighed. “I guess I’m an idiot, too.”

  Keith finally pulled back from the window. “You two done?” he asked before walking
to the door with his rifle.

  Wash focused on Ana. He was trying to think about what to say to her—maybe apologize for such a shitty reunion, or maybe tell her how he felt about her—but she beat him to it. Ana walked over, grabbed him, and kissed him on the mouth. He pulled her body tight against his, and for a second—maybe ten seconds, maybe twenty—he was able to block everything out and just concentrate on her.

  But it didn’t last. It never lasted.

  Keith, waiting at the door…

  Lyla, screaming out her brother’s name outside in the streets...

  And One Eye, somewhere out there, watching, waiting…

  Ana pulled away first. “Don’t die.”

  He nodded and opened his mouth to answer, but she shushed him with her palm against his lips, and said again, “Don’t die.”

  “I’ll try,” Wash said.

  “Don’t try. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” he said again.

  Wash looked past her and at Keith. The Jasper man had already removed the lumber from the door and had his hand on the deadbolt.

  They exchanged a look, followed by a nod.

  “I’ll be right back,” Wash said.

  Ana stepped aside without a word.

  Wash walked over to join Keith. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Keith answered by pulling back the deadbolt with a loud, echoing chank!, then throwing the door wide open. Moonlight poured inside the room and over them, and Wash thought, Any last piece of advice, old timer?

  “The girl’s got it right,” the Old Man said. “Don’t die. Or if you can’t hack that, at least take it with you.”

  Twenty-Four

  It was cold. So much colder than it should have been. A lot colder than when he was out here earlier. But then, maybe all of that had to do with the unsettling sense of dread gathering steam in the pit of his stomach as he stepped out of the building and onto the sidewalk behind Keith. The wooden floorboards creaked underneath their boots—again, much louder than it should have been.

  Behind Wash, the door closed, followed by the grating sound of wood against wood as Ana put the pieces of lumber back in place. The surprisingly loud chank! as the deadbolt slid into its housing.