Gaby looked over at Peter again and felt a sickening knot in her gut. He looked even more awful than a few seconds ago, the discoloration around his face seemingly changing color at least a dozen times. The flesh around his right eye was now the size of a giant fist.
He’s going to die. Tonight. Tomorrow morning. But he’s going to die.
I’m sorry, Peter.
She sat back against the wall and closed her eyes and tried to think.
Options. What were her options?
Limited. But Will always told her there were options, some that were obvious, but most that were hidden. She just had to find them.
So what were her options right now?
She had to think.
Think!
Then it came to her.
The girl.
Gaby tried to find the small figure in the darkness, focusing in on where she last heard the girl moving around, the soft rustling of clothes.
“Hey,” Gaby said.
There was no answer.
“Have you ever heard of Beaufont Lake?”
Still nothing.
“There’s an island on it. Song Island. It’s safe. There’s even a hotel—”
The girl stepped out of the blackness with her head cocked slightly to one side. She had moved so quickly that Gaby was momentarily taken by surprise. There was a fleck of interest in the girl’s eyes. “You said an island?”
“Yes,” Gaby said. Be careful. Don’t spook her. “Song Island. Have you ever heard of it?”
“No.” She glanced behind her, as if trying to decide how to proceed. Maybe she was afraid of Harrison finding out she was even talking to the prisoner.
Easy does it. You have her attention now. Don’t lose it…
“It’s safe there,” Gaby said. “There’s a hotel. Electricity. Hot showers. Frozen food. And ice. When was the last time you had ice?”
The girl didn’t answer.
“I can take you there,” Gaby said.
The girl looked over at Peter, then back at her. “It’s near here?”
“It’s not far. A day’s drive. Maybe a couple of days on foot.”
The girl looked back into the shadows behind her a second time. With her hair out of her face, she was a lot younger than Gaby had first thought. Thirteen, maybe, like Milly.
“I know you don’t want to be here,” Gaby said. “I know you’re just staying because you don’t have a choice.”
The blue eyes seemed to confirm everything Gaby had just said. Or was she reading the kid all wrong?
God, please don’t let me screw this up.
“You can come with us,” Gaby said. “With Peter and me. And Milly, too. Did you see Milly? She’s about your age.”
“They took her,” the girl said.
“We can get her back and leave here, and you can come with us.”
“To the island?”
“Yes, to the island.”
Gaby did her best to control her rising excitement. She could almost imagine the girl’s brain working, absorbing the information. But she had to tread lightly. The girl was taking a risk. She knew that much. Harrison had left her here because there was no way Gaby or Peter could escape in their condition. Certainly Peter had no more fight left in him, and it was hard for her to do anything when she couldn’t even walk.
Even so, it bothered her that he had just left a little girl behind to watch them. Were the adults all busy somewhere with something else? Maybe there were guards on the other side of that door Harrison had gone through twice now. Maybe—
Concentrate on the girl! She’s your opening! Seize it!
“What’s your name?” Gaby asked.
“Claire,” the girl said.
“I can take you with me, Claire. You’ll be safe on the island.”
“Because the bloodsuckers can’t go there,” Claire said.
“Yes,” Gaby said. “How did you know—”
Claire whirled around and disappeared into the shadows.
“Wait, Claire,” Gaby said, but the girl was gone. She wanted to shout but was afraid of making too much noise in case there were guards outside the basement door.
She sighed and leaned back against the wall, crestfallen. All her hopes of escaping with Peter and Milly died inside her and all she could do was look at Peter, asleep—or somewhere between asleep and dead—next to her.
I’m sorry, Peter. I’m not good at saving people. Nate could have told you that.
And Matt.
And Josh…
There was the quick patter of footsteps just before Claire reappeared out of the darkness. The rifle was slung over her back, looking absurdly big against her slight frame. There was something else, too: Claire was clutching a small black microcassette voice recorder.
Gaby opened her mouth to ask what was happening when Claire shushed her by holding up her hand. The girl crouched in front of her and pressed the play button on the recorder and held it out as a familiar voice came through the tiny speaker:
“To any survivors out there, if you’re hearing this, you are not alone. There are things you need to know about our enemy—these creatures of the night, these ghouls. They are not invincible, and they have weaknesses other than sunlight—”
Lara! It was Lara’s voice!
“—One: you can kill them with silver. Stab them, shoot them, or cut them with any silver weapon, and they will die. Two: they will not cross bodies of water. An island, a boat—get to anything that can separate you from land. Three: some ultraviolet light has proven effective, but flashlights and lightbulbs with UV don’t seem to have any effect. We don’t know why, so use this information with caution. If you’re hearing this message, you are not alone. Stay strong, stay smart, and adapt. We owe it to those we’ve lost to keep fighting, to never give up. Good luck.”
The message ended, and Claire clicked off the recorder. “You said an island. Not far from here?”
Gaby nodded anxiously. “Yes. It’s called Song Island.”
“And she’s right? The creatures can’t go there?”
“Yes. She’s right. They can’t.”
“She’s not lying? You promise?”
“She’s not lying. I promise.” Then, “Where did you record that from, Claire?”
“Donna has a small radio that she listens to every now and then. It’s our father’s; he used to listen to talk radio on it. Donna thinks the government might still be out there, but I told her it wasn’t. A few nights ago, we heard this. It keeps changing channels, so I decided to record it just in case we couldn’t find it again.”
“Did you try to radio them back?”
“Can’t. You can only pick up stuff with the radio.”
“Do the others know about it? Harrison?”
“Donna tried telling him, but he doesn’t believe it.” She frowned. “I think he doesn’t care. He likes it here. The way things are.” She looked at Peter. “We don’t, though.”
“Who is Donna?”
“My sister.” She glanced back at Gaby and narrowed her eyes a bit. “How do I know the woman on the radio isn’t lying? How do I know you’re not lying? Everyone lies. Especially adults. Harrison lies all the time. He uses the kids to watch the roads and trick people. Like he did with you.”
“I swear I’m not lying, Claire.”
Claire watched her intensely, blue eyes squinting as if she could read Gaby if she stared long and squinted hard enough.
She’s too young to look so old.
“And you’ll take me with you?” Claire asked finally. “To the island? Swear it?”
“I swear it,” Gaby said.
“And Donna?”
“Donna, too, if she wants to come.”
Claire nodded, seemingly satisfied. She pocketed the voice recorder.
“Do you keep that with you all the time?” Gaby asked.
“Uh huh,” Claire nodded.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess it gives me hope.” She stoo
d up and flicked another quick glance back at the shadows behind her. “What now? How do we get out of here?”
“Are there people on the other side of the door? Guards?”
“No. They left before you woke up.”
Why? What’s happening out there? Where are all the adults?
All those questions raced through her mind, but she forced them away. No guards. That was all that mattered. There were no guards outside the door!
“I need my guns, Claire,” Gaby said. “Do you know where they took them?”
The girl shook her head. “No, but there are others.”
“Others?”
“Guns. There are lots of guns on the other side of the door. How many do you want?”
“How many you got?” Gaby said, grinning back at her.
13
Will
“How many?” Danny asked.
“A dozen, give or take,” Will said.
“How many is ‘give or take’?”
“A dozen or so?”
“Remind me to never let you do my taxes, Mister CP-Or So.”
They were crouched just beyond the tree lines, watching the trucks roll by and up the road—Route 13, according to a sign they had passed earlier—and toward the city of Dunbar.
Lucky number 13.
The trucks were of various sizes and colors, some beat up, others brand new. They included a shiny silver F-150 that was hauling an orange and white U-Haul truck in the middle of the pack. Will glimpsed a couple of white stars and the state of Louisiana on the sweat-drenched uniforms of a couple of the men sitting in the back of the Ford as it flashed by him.
Josh’s boys.
What are they doing here?
“Fourteen,” Will said when the last truck had passed.
“You think they’re tracking Gaby?” Danny asked behind him.
“I don’t think so. Way too many cars for just one girl.”
“Maybe our boy Josh is in one of them. Kid’s in love. You remember what that was like? With the hormones going nuts? I wouldn’t put it past him to commit this kind of force to recapturing her. Sounds like something a teenager would do.”
“You’re assuming he thinks she’s still alive.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“The cave, remember?”
“Oh, right. I forgot about the cave.”
“It was this morning, Danny.”
“It’s hot out here. My brain turns to soup in the heat. Give me a break.”
Will grunted, then glanced down at his watch: 3:14 p.m.
Three hours until nightfall. Gonna be close…
“Did you see anything I might have missed?” Will asked.
“Like what?”
“Like something that’ll tell us where they were coming from, or going?”
Danny thought about it, then shook his head. “Can’t say, but then again, I don’t know the area. You?”
“Nope.”
“So, I have a question.”
“Did you raise your hand?”
Danny raised his hand. “So, I have a question.”
“What is it?” Will smiled.
“How do you think the ghouls know to avoid those betraying buggers now that they’re no longer wearing the hazmat suits and gas masks?”
“Probably the same way they knew not to attack the guys in hazmat suits and gas masks in the first place.”
“The whole hive mind thing. Someone gives the command and it goes out to the infantry. Someone high up. Like your buddy Mabry.”
“Or one of his acolytes.”
“Like, for instance, your ex-ghoulfriend Kate?” Danny grinned at him.
Will sighed. “Don’t rub it in.”
He sat back down on the hard ground and looked up Route 13. Dunbar wasn’t a particularly big place, but like most country cities, it was spread out and separated into districts, with the suburbs circling the main business area. The whole place sounded dead at the moment, and Will could still hear the engines of the soldier’s caravan moving away from them, fading with every passing second.
“Gaby probably went in there,” Will said.
“Likely,” Danny nodded. “If she’s still alive…”
“Those soldiers seemed to think so back at the cave. So let’s go find out, one way or another.”
“Not like I got anything else to do.”
Will got up and moved through the woods, keeping parallel to the road on his right. Danny followed, but only after making sure no one had sneaked up behind them while they were waiting for the cars to pass.
Gaby and her two companions had clearly been heading for Dunbar since leaving L15 behind. He had picked up multiple tracks moving alongside Lake Hillman and in this direction. If one of those prints had belonged to Gaby, that is. He still wasn’t sure, but the odds were in their favor. This was Gaby, after all. If he knew one thing about her, it was that the teenager was a survivor.
“How’re your wounds?” Danny asked after a while.
“My guts are still where they should be. Thanks for asking; I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t, but Lara made me promise.”
“You scared of Lara?”
“Hell yeah, she’s five-five of balls of fury. I told you she’s running the island now, right?”
“You mentioned that once or twice.”
“Yeah, you really know how to pick them, buddy.”
“What does that mean?”
“First Kate, and now Lara. I guess you have a type.”
“Is that right?”
“Ball busters,” Danny chuckled.
Will grinned. Danny probably had a point there.
They passed a train track, then a slew of old houses with peeling paint and rooftops that didn’t look strong enough to withstand a harsh wind blowing in the wrong direction. There were too many open spaces, forcing them to dart from building to building as they followed the motor oil trails of the collaborator caravan up Route 13 toward the center of Dunbar.
After about an hour of skirting around the open, keeping to the same stretch of road but never on it, they finally sidled up to an orange building called Gaine’s Meat Market near the very center of what Will surmised was the busy business section of town. A streetlight swayed back and forth in front of them, while half a block along Highway 190’s four-lane stretch the trucks and ATV had made camp in the mostly barren parking lot of a strip mall. Heavily-armed men milled about the vehicles, doing…what?
Will and Danny leaned out from the corner of Gaine’s with binoculars and watched the soldiers for a moment. The U-Haul sat almost in the center of the parked vehicles, but no one had pulled open the back doors, which further piqued Will’s curiosity. It couldn’t have been people inside, because trailers didn’t have air conditioners and it would be suffocating under the heat.
“You think it’s a coincidence they’re here at the same time as us?” Danny asked.
“I’m not a fan of coincidences,” Will said.
Danny sniffed him. “Not a fan of hygiene, either, from the smell of it. When was the last time you showered?”
“It’s been a while.”
“I can smell that.”
“Stop sniffing me and take a look at the U-Haul.”
“I am,” Danny said, peering through his binoculars. “What about it?”
“They haven’t opened it yet.”
“You think there’s something worthwhile in there?”
“Gotta be. Why haul it around?”
“Maybe it’s dirty laundry. Or a washer and dryer to wash those sparkly uniforms. Look at them; they almost look like soldiers. How precious.”
“Where would they plug the washer and dryer in?”
“Details, details.”
“Look at the way they parked it. In the center.”
Danny chuckled. “Isn’t this what got you in trouble in the first place? This need to know everything about everything?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I’m not sure that’s quite the saying.”
“Details, details.”
The men (wannabe soldiers) began spreading out along the streets, moving in pairs of two. He counted ten, then twenty—ten pairs in all. They were searching the buildings around them while a dozen or so remained behind with the caravan. It was a mixed bag of men—old and young, fat and skinny, and some sported ponytails or unruly long hair that stuck out underneath ball caps.
Try getting away with that in Basic Training, boys.
Weekend warriors or not, the fact that each man was carrying military-grade firepower made them just as dangerous as any enlisted man he had been around. They were wearing sidearms and he glimpsed the barrels of M4s, a couple of AK-47s, and one was hauling around a Belgian FN FAL battle rifle. Will wondered where he had gotten that. The weapon that people called “The Right Arm of the Free World” was a rare sight these days.
“Heads up,” Danny said.
One of the pairs had come out of a Shell gas station in front of them and was moving up the street in their direction.
They pulled back from the corner.
“What’s the call?” Danny said.
“Find out what they’re doing here and if Gaby’s still around.”
“How are we going to do that?”
“Quietly.”
“Oh, that’s cute. When did you get so cute all of a sudden?”
“Must be the extra bullet holes,” Will said.
“So that explains the whistling noise I’ve been hearing,” Danny said.
What’s in the U-Haul?
There was a gas tanker directly below them, and Will wondered how much fuel was left inside it and if it would be worth it to somehow drive it down to Song Island as an emergency reserve.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
A tanker full of fuel would definitely help in a worst-case scenario. Of course, getting it there was the problem. That was, if they could get it working in the first place, which wasn’t a given these days with cars sitting around collecting dust and rust for the last eleven months.
He fixed his attention back on the camouflaged pair walking on the street below them, carbines cradled in their arms.
The Purge of Babylon Series Box Set, Vol. 2 | Books 4-6 Page 17
