But it wasn’t the creatures upstairs that he was worried about. It was the ones downstairs with him right now!
Keo glanced over his shoulder as they swarmed inside the house, now unencumbered by Keo’s or Bunker’s bullets. They surged through the great room’s large space, their skeletal forms flickering against the dimmed night-lights all along the floors.
He stuck his hand with the MP5 backward and squeezed the trigger, and emptied the third magazine of the night.
Bullets ripped through the wall of black flesh, and ghouls tumbled and fell. More just jumped over the fallen ones and kept coming.
Keo had wildly oscillated his fire from left to right, and more than a few of his rounds glanced off the hallway walls. Bunker was going to be annoyed about that when he found out how Keo had unintentionally redecorated his house.
Haha, you think you’re going to live through this! a voice said from the back of his mind.
You’re goddamn right!
“Come on, come on!” Bunker was shouting.
Keo looked forward. Bunker was waiting for him on the other side of an open door. Moonlight gleamed off its metallic surface.
Shit, I hope it’s strong enough!
Bunker was reloading as he watched Keo run toward him. “Are you running slow on purpose, or what?”
“I’m running as fast as I can!” Keo shouted back.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Everyone’s a critic!”
He dived through the door even as Bunker unleashed his second magazine.
Keo stopped on a dime, spun around, and grabbed the door—it was impossibly cold to the touch, sending a thrill up his spine—even as Bunker backpedaled further inside, his rifle spitting lead into the hallway beyond.
As soon as the rancher stopped firing, Keo pushed the door home with all the strength he could muster.
It was heavy. Christ, it was heavy.
(I hope it’s just heavy enough!)
But he dug his boots into the floorboards and pushed—and pushed some more!
Clang! as the door slammed home, the collision racing through Keo’s arms and all the way to his face, where it made his teeth chatter for seconds afterward.
Keo shoved the deadbolt into place—all three of them.
Chank-chank-chank! as the locks moved to secure the door against the walls that framed it.
Keo took a few steps back, careful not to fall off the short landing. The room was brightly lit, thanks to a string of LED light bulbs along the walls leading down the concrete steps to the basement below. He quickly reloaded with his fourth and final magazine, while Bunker did the same with his AR.
Well, this is familiar, Keo thought, remembering the last time he fled into a basement room to escape ghouls. That wasn’t very long ago, in fact. He’d done the same thing back at Paxton.
The more things changed and blah blah blah.
But this time there were major differences. He wasn’t alone, for one, and instead of a scared teenage girl, he had a battle-hardened Bunker at his side. This basement also wasn’t like all the others he’d taken refuge in over the years. This one had a secret, one that while Keo had hoped he would never have to use was glad it was there just in case. Instead of a wooden door that could easily crack under a sustained attack, he had a steel slab and walls designed to withstand natural disasters. Although the basement had a cement façade, it was in fact lined with steel slabs, with only the floor just made of concrete.
He’d take the upgrade any day of the week, and then some.
“That’s it?” Bunker was asking him.
Keo looked over at the rancher. Bunker was staring at him.
“What?” Keo said.
“That’s it? That’s all they got? They’ll never get through this door in a million years if that’s all they got.”
They both turned back to the door.
Keo hadn’t heard the sounds of assault he was waiting for, as if the creatures saw the door and simply…gave up.
No. They wouldn’t do that.
Would they?
But it didn’t matter how long he stood there and listened, and waited. There was nothing but silence outside the basement.
“That’s it?” Bunker asked again. Like Keo, the rancher was still breathing hard, his heartbeat pounding noticeably behind his vest.
Keo shook his head. He didn’t know how to answer Bunker. This was…new.
Because you’re out there, that’s why.
Aren’t you, you sadistic fuck?
“Now what?” Bunker asked. He’d lowered his voice for some reason, probably not even realizing he’d done it.
“I don’t know,” Keo said, matching the rancher’s pitch.
It wasn’t just the lack of attacks on the door, but the seeming absence of any noise whatsoever outside that confused Keo. There was nothing out there that even remotely hinted at the presence of ghouls moving around. Which couldn’t have been possible, because he’d seen them with his own eyes, running after him.
So where the hell were they? Or was this just another game?
“Is this good or bad?” Bunker asked.
“I don’t have a clue,” Keo said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You’re the expert. What are they doing outside now?”
“Like I said. I don’t have a clue.”
“Can you at least make an educated guess?”
Keo shook his head. “I got nothing.”
“You’re useless.”
“Pretty much.”
“Great,” Bunker said, looking back at the door.
The radios on their hips squawked at the same time. Keo unclipped his first, because he already knew who was calling.
It was Lara: “Are you guys in the basement yet?”
Keo pressed the transmit lever. “We’re in the basement now.”
“Thank God. Are you both okay?”
“We’re both good.”
Boom as something struck the door from the other side, the actual sound of the impact muted greatly by the strength of the door.
Not that it stopped both Keo and Bunker from taking a quick step back, before exchanging a confused glance.
Keo looked back at the door and pictured a Sherman tank ramming into it from the other side. Which, he guessed, was just about what it would take to knock the steel structure and its surrounding wall down.
“What the hell was that?” Lara asked through the radio.
Boom…
“You heard that?” Keo said into the radio.
“No, but I felt it,” Lara said.
Boom…
It wasn’t a black-eyed ghoul—or even a million of them. It was something else. Something stronger. So strong that the door and its frame trembled under every single impact and sent shockwaves across the entire house. All the way to where Lara and the girls were at the moment, which was a hell of a feat.
“Keo? Are you still there?” Lara asked through the radio.
“Um, I’ll have to get back to you, babe,” Keo said, and put the radio away.
“This is bad, right?” Bunker asked as he took another step backward and stopped just at the top of the stairs. Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead. Keo hadn’t seen those earlier and wondered if he was suddenly perspiring, too.
“Yeah, I think so,” Keo said.
Boom as the door shook again, along with the wall surrounding it.
Uh oh, Keo thought when he noticed the dent in the center of the door. It was small, just an indentation, but it was something that hadn’t been there seconds ago.
Boom…
“Damn,” Bunker said. He’d almost whispered the word, as if afraid whatever was attacking would overhear him.
“You can say that again,” Keo said.
Bunker did, and louder this time: “Damn.”
“I was just kidding.”
“This is no time to be kidding.”
“When is a
good time?”
“I’ll let you know, because goddamn.”
Keo didn’t blame Bunker’s growing disbelief, because the indentation that had appeared in the door was the result of a fist.
Boom…
A fist that was trying to punch its way through what had to be a good full inch of galvanized steel. And if it didn’t succeed in doing that, then it was going to tear the door right out of its frame trying.
Goddamn is right!
Nine
“This place once belonged to the McCann brothers, two of the most paranoid and crazy motherfuckers I’ve ever met. Ike and Henry,” Bunker said the first day Keo and Lara showed up at the property and the rancher showed them around. “This was all theirs, and their pop’s before them. After the old man passed away, the boys decided to carry on the tradition. They had the bucks to pay people to do most of the grunt work on the shelter, but they also tacked on a few walls here and there themselves. If you ask me, I actually think they were hoping for something to happen, given how much money and sweat they spent on this place. I mean, look at all this stuff. It’s insane.”
“That’s a hell of a family,” Keo said.
“And then some. You know what preppers are?”
“Guys who think the end of the world is coming.”
“That about sums it up. The McCanns were preppers, but that’s probably not doing them justice. They were good guys when you got to know them, but if you didn’t, you’d probably think they were a little wacky.”
“A little?”
“Okay, a lot wacky. But who’s laughing now, right? No big bombs or EMPs from North Korea or any of that nonsense, but plenty of bloodsucking monsters. Who would have seen that coming? I didn’t. Anyway, Ike and Henry spent decades adding on to this place, using money from the ranch’s cattle business to pay for it all. Neither one of them ended up married. Or maybe they just couldn’t find any Texas gal who’d put up with what most people thought was nonsense.”
“Were you a prepper?” Lara asked.
“Nah, but I knew plenty of people who did the lifestyle.”
“‘Lifestyle?’”
“That’s what it is, basically. Most of them just liked hiding out in the woods and pretending the end of the world was coming. Frankly, I think they just wanted an excuse to hide away from the family for a week or two. You know, get into the woods and chill.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” Keo said.
“I found out there were conventions, websites, Facebook groups, you name it—all dedicated to prepping. It was big business selling things to them back in the day when people still thought money was a good idea.”
“So how did you know about the McCann brothers?”
“I met the big brother, Ike, in a dirty bar in Mexico City while he was doing business down there. Turned out we liked the same brand of tequila.”
“That’s all it took, huh?”
“What else is there? Anyway, he gave me a standing invitation to visit the ranch if I was ever in town. I took him up on it about three months later, and he showed me what he had cooking down here. He was pretty proud of it. I guess I’d be too, given how much they spent down here.”
“So what happened to them?” Lara asked.
“You mean after the end of the world?”
“Exactly.”
“As far as I know, they never made use of the bunkers themselves. I don’t think they were even in town when the shit went down. When I showed up again about six months into the whole mess, hoping to hide out for a while, the place was empty. So I figured, what the hell, someone should at least put it to good use. I’ve been upkeeping it ever since, even adding to it.”
“Reminds me of a man named Harold Campbell,” Lara said.
“Who was that?”
“A billionaire who built underground survival bunkers all across the country. During the early days of The Purge, a handful of survivors and I made use of one of his facilities. It’s probably the only reason I’m still alive now.”
“The McCanns weren’t billionaires, but they sure did a good job. The place is rough around the edges, but she’ll do. She’ll do. Mind you, I’ve been lucky; I’ve never had to make use of the place’s full potential.”
That luck, alas, wouldn’t last forever.
Boom…
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes. It’s exactly what you think it is.”
Boom…
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Bunker.”
Boom…
“But just in case I’m seeing things…”
“That’s a fist trying to punch its way through the door.”
Boom…
“Okay, so it’s exactly what I thought it was. Holy shit.”
“You can say that again.”
Boom…
“Holy shit.”
“I was kidding. You can stop now.”
Boom…
“Fuck my life.”
Keo couldn’t help himself and grinned, even as—
Boom!
“Did that sound…?” Bunker said.
“Louder?” Keo said.
“I was going to say faster. And harder.”
“Yeah, those, too.”
Boom!
The rancher was right on both counts. It did sound and feel as if the impacts were getting louder, and harder, and growing in intensity all at the same time. And it was going to get through. There was no stopping it. It was going to keep pounding on the door until it got through.
Keo had no doubts whatsoever about what was on the other side.
A blue-eyed ghoul.
The blue-eyed ghoul.
Mr. Fucking Sadistic itself.
The same one that had played with him in Paxton, that had followed him here in order to finish what it’d started. The same bastard that had taken out Longmire and its eighty-three residents, many of whom were probably covering the floor of Bunker’s great room right now, except they weren’t people anymore.
It was striking the door repeatedly, each blow denting the 12-gauge steel with such force that the literal “fist”-shaped dent was growing, getting bigger and bigger. Chunks of the concrete façade broke free from the wall and sprinkled the basement landing.
Boom!
Every blow caused the entire house to tremble.
Boom!
It was going to get through. He knew that. Even if it couldn’t punch its way through the door, it was going to hammer it out of its frame.
One way or another, it was coming in.
By now, Keo and Bunker had backed up so much they were almost falling off the landing and tumbling down the stairs.
“What now?” Bunker asked.
“Same as when the night began,” Keo said. “Shoot for the head.”
“That’s it? Nothing else?”
“That’s about it.”
“It kinda sucks.”
“Kinda? It sucks pretty badly.”
“True, but I wanted to be nice about it.”
“Why start now?”
“Good—”
Boom! as a big chunk of the wall on the right side of the door cracked and fell, exposing the steel sheet behind it.
“What’s it got out there, a tank?” Bunker said.
“Nope,” Keo said. “Just its fist.”
“Damn.”
Boom! as another big piece fell down, landing with a solid thunk! against the landing, and revealing even more of the steel surrounding the basement.
“That was a loud one,” Bunker said.
“Uh huh,” Keo said.
“What should we do now?”
Boom! as more sections of the wall cracked and peeled off and the ceiling above them spiderwebbed.
“Go,” Keo said.
“Go?” Bunker said, looking over at him.
“Time to go!”
They both turned and fled down the stairs almost simultaneously.
The boom! echoed from behi
nd them.
Then, as if it knew they had turned tail and ran (and maybe it did; the Blue Eyes did have hyper-hearing), the attacks seemed to increase even further in speed and intensity.
Boom!
BOOM!
Suddenly the world was full of sounds all pounding away at the same time. Falling concrete, impacts against the door, their boots on the stairs, and Lara’s voice shouting through their radios. Keo didn’t have time for any of it. He was too busy running.
“Are we really fleeing?” Bunker asked between spurts of labored breaths.
“Yes!” Keo shouted back, his own breathing just as ragged, and maybe even a little bit more so.
“Okay! Just wanted to make sure!”
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
Keo had no problems with running. This whole night had gone, as far as he was concerned, according to plan. He never had any delusions that they were ever going to keep the ghouls out of the house all night. Maybe if they were just facing a horde of Black Eyes, the barricades would have been more than enough. But it wasn’t just the Black Eyes. There was a Blue Eyes among them, and it could do things—get into places—that the others couldn’t dream of.
And right now, it was literally punching its way through an inch of solid steel.
So Keo and Bunker ran, hopping down the last couple of steps and onto the basement floor. Shelves of supplies and unused furniture flashed by on their right and left as they made a beeline for another door at the end of the room.
It was another stainless steel door, except this one was twice as thick and, in theory, should be able to withstand more blunt force than the one upstairs.
In theory, anyway.
Before tonight, it’d been hidden behind a shelf, and anyone who didn’t know it existed would never have found it. The basement was just a cover for what lay behind it.
“The pièce de résistance,” Bunker had said when he showed what was on the other side to them all those months ago.
Right now, it was the one thing standing between them and—
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
Bunker was the first one to the door. There was a keypad with a key slot backup in case the power went out, but they didn’t need either of those things right now because the door was already open. The rancher slung his rifle and slipped inside, then turned around and grabbed the round submarine wheel at the center and began pulling the heavy steel structure back into its frame.
Road to Babylon (Book 9): The Ranch Page 10