Road to Babylon (Book 9): The Ranch

by Sisavath, Sam

  Keo slid through the slowly-closing opening and into the brightly-lit hallway on the other side. The soles of his boots skidded against the concrete floor as he stopped, turned, then grabbed the other half of the wheel and pulled the door inward.

  It took both of them to swing the 350-lb door into its frame, the bulky two-inch object landing home with an impressive clang! that was even louder than the basement door, which was only half its size. Bunker spun the submarine wheel, the locking mechanisms inside grinding as they did what they were supposed to do.

  Clack-clack-clack!

  When the last lock clacked! into place, the two of them took a half-dozen steps back from the door. Neither one of them said a word as they waited for the now-familiar boom of a blue-eyed ghoul’s fist landing on the other side.

  Instead, there was silence.

  Almost. Besides their hard breathing, the only other noise came from the low hum of the generators running in the background and the air infiltration system working down the hallway, cycling clean air from the outside world through a series of elaborate filters and blast-proof ducts that Keo had no idea even existed until Bunker showed them to him.

  The passageway was made of solid concrete—ten feet high and fifteen feet wide. There was nothing about it that looked as if its builders had followed any building regulations. Instead, there was a strictly “build it however we want it” aesthetics to the place. Everything down here, from the hallway to the door, was done to the McCanns’ specifications according to Bunker.

  Bunker finally broke the silence. “What do you think? Will it hold?”

  “I don’t know,” Keo said.

  “You’ve faced these things before, right?”

  “Too many times to count.”

  “So can they break through 350 pounds of galvanized two-inch steel door or not?”

  “I have no fucking idea, Bunker,” Keo said, even as he thought, But God, I hope not.

  They were still waiting for something—anything—when the radios on their hips squawked simultaneously.

  Lara’s voice, through the speakers: “Guys? What’s happening out there? Someone give me a sitrep.”

  “It’s your woman, you answer her,” Bunker said.

  Keo unclipped his radio and spoke into it. “We’re underground, Lara.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “In one piece.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I’m fine too, thanks for asking,” Bunker said.

  Keo said into the radio, “Bunker’s fine, too.”

  “I guess that’s good,” Lara said.

  “Ouch,” Bunker said.

  Lara wasn’t in the hallway with them, but she was close by. There was another door down behind them and around a corner—the last line of defense, though Keo hated to think of it in that way. She had brought the sisters, Wilson and Gummy, along with Thuy, down here earlier in the night. It was part of the plan: Keo and Bunker would see what the ghouls did topside and react accordingly, retreating into the basement to access the tunnels when necessary. (It had proven necessary much faster than Keo would have liked.) Meanwhile, the women were safe and sound down here the entire time.

  He wanted desperately to make his way to them, but Keo fought the urge. He would do so when the time was right, when he didn’t have any other choice. He just hoped the “last line of defense” was stronger than the basement door had proven. Of course, for them to fall back to the third option, they’d have to lose the second one first. And right now, the hallway door was still very much in play.

  For now, anyway.

  “The pounding I was feeling earlier. Did it stop?” Lara was asking through the radio. “I can’t feel it anymore.”

  Keo gave Bunker a questioning look. The rancher shrugged back and leaned against the door. He didn’t move or say anything for a while.

  “Well?” Keo said after about thirty seconds.

  Bunker shook his head. “I can’t hear or feel shit.”

  “Keo?” Lara was saying through the radio. “What’s happening now?”

  “We don’t know yet, but we should stick to the plan,” Keo said into the radio. “Are you okay back there?”

  “We’re fine. Everyone’s just anxious.” Then, the worry in her voice unmistakable, “Be careful, okay?”

  “I will.”

  Keo put the radio away and pushed his hands against the cold steel door. There were no vibrations, no impacts. Nothing to indicate the ghoul had started trying to break the structure down like it had the basement door. He pressed his ear against the smooth surface, a jolt of cold sweeping through him from the contact.

  “You’re wasting your time,” Bunker said. He’d stepped back and was checking his rifle. “That’s 350 pounds and two inches of solid 12-gauge steel. Can’t hear shit through that thing.”

  Keo stayed still and listened anyway.

  Bunker was right. He couldn’t hear a damn thing through the door.

  “Well?” Bunker said behind him.

  Keo pulled back slightly and shook his head. “You’re right. I can’t hear anything.”

  “Told you.” Then, “Maybe it didn’t make it through the top door.”

  Keo recalled the image of the ghoul’s fist denting through the sheet of solid steel…

  “Yeah, I don’t believe it, either,” Bunker said. “Maybe it was just wishful thinking. That’ll teach me.”

  Keo took another step back and unclipped his radio. He pressed the transmit lever. “Lara.”

  He waited, but she didn’t answer.

  Keo tried again: “Lara.”

  Again, there was no response.

  Keo exchanged a look with Bunker before glancing down the hallway.

  “Why isn’t she answering?” Bunker asked.

  “I don’t—” Keo started to say when their radios squawked.

  Lara’s voice, shouting through the radio, “Keo—”

  The bang! of a gunshot reverberated through the radio, cutting her off.

  “Lara?” Keo said into the radio.

  “Was that a gunshot?” Bunker asked.

  Keo didn’t answer him. He was too busy walking down the hallway, picking up his pace with every step. “Lara,” he said into the radio. “Lara? Lara!”

  He glanced back at Bunker, but the rancher was waving him off. “Go, go!”

  Keo spun around and took the turn up ahead. The soles of his boots slid slightly against the hard concrete floor as he did so, but he managed to stay upright as he picked up even more speed through the brightly-lit passageway. Gray concrete walls flashed by to both sides of him, light bulbs on the ceiling lighting his way to Lara…

  Ten

  Get to Lara!

  The entrance into the McCanns’ underground shelter consisted of the main area at one end and the two-inch steel door that Bunker was currently guarding, the two areas linked together by a long hallway with a single turn in the middle. Each length of hallway was less than twenty yards apiece, but as Keo ran through the first, then the second and final one, the passageway seemed endless. He’d been running for only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before he finally spotted another steel metal door on the other side: Beyond that door—the last line of defense—was the main shelter, and Lara.

  Jesus! Why are you so slow?

  There were two ways to gain entry into the main shelter area—either someone opened the door from the other side, or using the keypad. Keo used the latter, all but lunging at the door, fingers flying over the keys on the wall as he punched in the numbers Bunker had made him memorize all those months ago.

  Get in there. Get to Lara!

  Now now now!

  Locking bolts retracted and the door popped open, but it was incredibly heavy—over three inches of solid steel—and took its precious time just initially snapping free from its frame. Keo helped it out, throwing his whole weight against it and pushing, pushing, pushing.

  He had to get inside. He had to get inside now.

&nbs
p; Now now now!

  The door wasn’t even fully open—and it probably wouldn’t be for another ten or more seconds—but Keo couldn’t wait. He gave up pushing and squeezed through the partially open door instead, the MP5 in his hands by the time he set foot into the main entry room.

  It was essentially one long foyer, made entirely of metal like the rest of the main shelter. The glossy surfaces reflected and diverted the bright LED lights into his eyes, and Keo struggled to see as he ran, praying he didn’t trip or run right into something very sharp that might puncture a lung, or worse.

  Thankfully, he already had a good idea of the layout. He’d walked through the place months ago and had refreshed his memory earlier today with Lara and Bunker. There were cabinets and a bench to his left, sinks and wash bins to his right. A bathroom, then a closet—more storage areas. Like the rest of the underground shelter, everything was made of unyielding metal, including the hard floor pounding away underneath his running boots.

  Why was he moving so slowly? Jesus Christ, it felt like he was fighting against quicksand. He had to go faster.

  Faster!

  He went straight to the door on the right side, at the end of the room. A regular steel door with a regular handle that he grabbed and yanked open, and lunged through with wild abandon, the voice in the back of his head shouting, Faster! You’re too slow! Lara needs help! You have to move faster!

  “Lara!” he shouted even as he entered the adjoining room.

  The common area was just that—probably the largest space in the entire complex, designed to be shared by everyone who had made it down here. There were sofas, a full-size kitchen, and a bench-style dining table. Shelves lined the walls, and an entertainment center with a 60-inch black no-brand TV hogged a large spot on the wall. Everything down here had a purpose, and aesthetics weren’t necessarily a big concern to the McCanns. There were doors along the sides leading to private living quarters, but Keo ignored them. He knew exactly where Lara was supposed to be.

  And there she was, standing in the center of the wide-open space looking back at him.

  She was okay.

  Thank God. Thank God…

  At least she looked okay. She was on her feet, and he didn’t see anything that looked like injuries. Or blood.

  No blood. Thank God. No blood…

  He glimpsed the sisters out of the corner of his eye. Wilson and Gummy were sitting on one of the couches on his right, clutching one another. He couldn’t spare the second or two it would have taken to confirm they were okay, because he was too busy focusing on Lara.

  “Stop,” the figure standing behind Lara said. She stepped slightly to one side, revealing herself. She’d been hidden earlier, but not anymore.

  It was Thuy.

  Keo slid to a stop and immediately raised the MP5—pointing it at Thuy as she emerged from behind Lara, her smaller face just visible to the right of Lara’s shoulder. But it was the gun in her hand, not quite pressing against the back of Lara’s head, that drew Keo’s immediate attention—and kept it there.

  Sonofabitch.

  Sonofabitch.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Thuy said.

  “What are you doing?” Keo asked, even though what he really wanted to shout was, You hurt my woman, and I’ll put you down like a rabid dog, you bitch! But he bit his tongue, because he knew the outburst wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. Hell, it’d probably cause more harm than good.

  He added instead, in as calm a voice as he could muster, “Who fired the shot?”

  “I did,” Thuy said.

  Keo’s eyes snapped from Thuy’s partially hidden face to Lara’s. She looked back at him, and if she was even the least bit scared, he couldn’t see it on her face. Then again, Lara always did have one hell of a poker face. It wasn’t all bluff, either; she’d been through more than most people and had come out of it all in one piece. To say Lara had been to hell and back would have been a slight understatement.

  Lara was the toughest woman he knew, but even she had her limits. And right now, he could see it wavering a little as she met his gaze. He didn’t believe for a second it was because she was afraid for herself. No, it was more than that. It was the unborn child in her belly, which would have been more prominently visible if not for the vest she was wearing over the jacket.

  Keo noticed immediately that Lara’s hip holster, where the Glock was supposed to be, was empty. It looked very much like the same weapon in Thuy’s hand at the moment. Lara was also not carrying the MP5K anymore. Instead, it was hanging off Thuy’s shoulder.

  All the evidence snapped together, forming a very bad picture.

  Keo’s eyes returned to Lara. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “We’re fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “She’s okay,” Thuy said. “Everyone’s okay. I just needed to get your attention.”

  Oh, you have my attention, all right, Keo thought.

  “She took me by surprise,” Lara said. “I’m sorry, Keo.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You don’t ever have to be sorry to me.”

  Keo looked past her and at Thuy. The other woman was clearly trying to make herself small, afraid Keo might open fire. If she only knew that Keo wouldn’t have done that in a million years. The only reason he kept the submachine aimed was because he was too afraid of what Thuy would do—to him, to Lara, to the kids—if he didn’t make himself into a potential threat.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Keo asked Thuy.

  “I told you, I just wanted your attention,” Thuy said.

  “Okay, so now you have it. What do you want?”

  “I want you to go back outside and open the door into the basement.”

  “What?”

  “Open the door into the basement.”

  “Why would you want me to do that? Do you know what’s out there? On the other side? Did you hear that pounding earlier?”

  “Yes,” Thuy said.

  That caught Keo by surprise. It wasn’t so much her answer but the way she’d said it—so matter-of-factly, as if she’d given it a lot of thought.

  Keo’s radio—and Lara’s, on the floor between Keo and her—squawked, and they heard Bunker’s voice:

  “Anyone wanna give me a sitrep? What’s going on in there?” Then, when no one answered him fast enough, “Bueller? Bueller?”

  Keo unclipped his own radio with one hand, the other still holding the MP5, and brought it up to his lips. “Bunker.”

  “What happened? Everything okay in there?” the rancher asked.

  “It’s Thuy.”

  “What about her?”

  “She took Lara hostage.”

  “Uh, can you repeat that? There must be something wrong with my radio. I thought you said Thuy took Lara hostage?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your radio. Thuy took Lara hostage.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m staring at her while she’s holding a gun to the back of Lara’s head right now,” Keo said.

  “Oh,” Bunker said.

  “Tell him to open the door,” Thuy said.

  “The hell I will,” Keo said.

  “Please.”

  “What?”

  “Please,” Thuy said again. “Tell him to open the door.”

  Keo didn’t know how to respond to that. Had the woman holding a gun to Lara’s head just begged him to do something? That didn’t make a lick of sense.

  “Tell me why,” Keo said.

  “It wants me to open the door,” Thuy said. “It wants to come in.”

  “Who?”

  “You know who. You met it outside of Paxton. It sent me here.”

  Fuck, Keo thought.

  “Please,” Thuy said. “Tell Bunker to open the door.”

  Keo didn’t answer her. Instead, he keyed the radio again. “Bunker.”

  “I’m still here,” the rancher said.


  “What’s the status on the door?”

  “The same now as when you left.”

  “They haven’t tried to come in yet?”

  “If they are, they’re being mighty quiet about it. Does this have something to do with what’s going on in there?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “Well, you wanna fill me in or what?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Swell,” Bunker said.

  “Tell him to open the door,” Thuy said. He thought her voice was cracking slightly, as if she didn’t want to be saying any of this.

  “He’s not going to do that,” Lara said. Then, to Keo, “Right?”

  “Right,” Keo said, even though he thought, But I may have to, if she doesn’t give me any choice. God knows I don’t want to, but if it’s between what’s out there and saving your life, it’ll be the easiest decision of my life.

  But he’d agreed with her anyway because maybe, just maybe, there was another way out of this. Maybe, if he’d heard the waver in her voice correctly…

  You better be right about this, pal. You better be right…

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked Thuy.

  “I don’t have any choice,” Thuy said. “I told you that. This is what it wants.”

  “Why are you doing its bidding?”

  “I don’t have any choice.”

  “Tell me why. There has to be a reason.”

  “What does it matter to you?”

  Because you have a gun pointed at the most important woman in my life, and if anything were to happen to her, I’m not sure I can live.

  He said, “I need to know why you’re doing this. Maybe we can help you.”

  “What?” Thuy said.

  “Maybe we can help you.”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “Because you look like you need help. You said it yourself: You don’t want to do this. You’re being forced to. Maybe we can help you. But we won’t know for sure if you don’t tell us.”