The Fields of Lemuria (Sequel to The Walls of Lemuria) (Purge of Babylon)

by Sam Sisavath

  For a moment, he thought she was going to laugh, or maybe mock him. But instead, she just shook her head. “You’ll find out soon enough, because I’m one hundred percent certain he’s on his way here now.”

  “Who?” Norris said. “Who is on his way here?”

  She glanced back at Norris, then across the room at Keo. “You really don’t know why any of this is happening, do you?”

  “Not a goddamn clue, girly,” Norris said.

  “Well, that makes it kind of fucking tragic, doesn’t it?” She sighed. “His name is Pollard. Bobby was his nephew.”

  “This is all because he blames us for killing Bobby?” Keo said. “Good old-fashioned revenge, is that it?”

  “Not because of Bobby. Pollard liked the kid, but he didn’t like him that much.”

  “What, then?”

  “There was another boy with Bobby the day you killed—”

  “We didn’t kill him,” Keo interrupted.

  She shrugged indifferently. “The day he died, then. Better?”

  “It’s the truth,” Norris said. “That used to count for something.”

  “Yeah, well, those days are long gone.”

  Norris grunted. “Tell me about it.”

  “If it matters to you, I believe you,” she said.

  “Why?” Keo said.

  “Why?”

  “Why do you believe that we didn’t kill Bobby?”

  “I don’t have a clue,” Fiona said. “But it doesn’t seem like you’d have a reason to lie now. I mean, it’s not like it’s going to matter when Pollard gets here. He’s still going to kill you because he blames you for it.”

  “But it’s not for Bobby’s death?” Norris said.

  “No. That kid’s death led to something else that matters more to Pollard than life itself. When Bobby died, there was another boy with him. Do you remember?”

  That sonofabitch.

  Keo knew the name before she even said it. Somehow, he always knew the little bastard was going to keep haunting him for whatever little time he had left. All because he made the wrong decision in a moment of weakness, and for all the wrong reasons. It had been for Gillian, for the others, even Norris. He wanted to reward their faith in him. The world had ended, and he wanted desperately to be something new, someone other than what he had always embraced in the ten years prior.

  “Joe,” Fiona said. “The kid’s name was Joe. Pollard, the man leading this hunt for you, is his father.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Fucking Joe.

  He had no one to blame but himself. The Keo from October of last year would have put a bullet through the kid’s head without wasting a second thinking about how it would make him feel later. But that was before he met Norris, Gillian, and the others. That was before the world ended.

  Goddamn you, Joe, you little twerp.

  Norris was probably thinking the same thing as he looked across the room at him, though there was something else in Norris’s eyes, a “Don’t beat yourself up over it, kid” that the ex-cop often gave him from time to time. Of course, Keo could just be seeing what he wanted to see at the moment, a pitiful attempt to lessen his own guilt.

  I got soft. Jesus, when did I get so soft?

  He returned his gaze to Fiona. She was watching him back with an almost curious expression. He imagined that she had been hunting him and Norris for so long she might have expected him to grow fangs and try to bleed her dry when they finally met. The enemy was always easier to put down when you saw them as less than human. He knew that personally. Maybe she had even convinced herself that he was like the creatures that came out at night.

  That thought prompted him to look down at his watch again: 4:31 p.m.

  Getting close…

  “What now?” Fiona said.

  Keo unzipped his pack and pulled out a sweat-soaked handkerchief that he tossed over to her.

  She caught it with her good hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “You really want to sit there all day with crap on your face?”

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  Norris took out a bottle of water and tossed it over to her. She wet the rag and cleaned off the black and green paint. She wasn’t bad looking, but Fiona was no Gillian. Then again, few people were even before the world ended, and there were even less of them now.

  When she was done, Fiona turned the handkerchief over and cleaned the grime off her neck and wiped some of the blood off her left arm, careful not to touch the dressing. Then she drank the rest of the water.

  “You’re not what I expected,” she said, looking across at him.

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Something else.”

  “Horns?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m used to disappointments. It keeps you sane these days.” She put the empty bottle between her legs and stared at her reflection in the plastic surface. “I wasn’t lying to you when I said you’re both dead men. Pollard isn’t going to let you go, no matter how far you run. You killed his nephew and his son. He’s never going to forgive that.”

  “Bobby was a mistake,” Keo said. “We didn’t kill him, but someone from our party did. Joe…he came after us. If he hadn’t attacked the house—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, cutting him off. “The fact remains, his son is dead, and you were responsible.”

  “A man who loves his son wouldn’t have given him face paint and an assault rifle and sent him out there to kill women and children,” Norris said from the window. “The guy’s idea of parental involvement stinks to high heaven.”

  “That may be,” Fiona said. “Still doesn’t change what happened. Or his response. This is what he wanted all along, you know. To corner you. When he puts his mind to something, Pollard is scary in the way he zeroes in.”

  “When I first saw them, Joe and the others didn’t look paramilitary,” Keo said. “They looked like regular hunters.”

  “They were scouting the area. It’s better to look like hunters just strolling through the woods if you run across other survivors.” She gave him a half-smile. “You’d be surprised how people react when guys with tactical assault gear roll up on them.”

  “No shit. You’ve done it before.”

  “Lots of times.” She shrugged. “It’s a dangerous world out there.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is,” Keo said.

  “What was this Pollard guy, ex-military?” Norris asked.

  “I don’t know,” Fiona said. “I don’t think anyone knows. But some of the guys said he used to be an officer in the army.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone know?” Keo asked.

  “He won’t say. Maybe you can ask him when you see him.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Put a bullet in his head while you’re at it, kid,” Norris said.

  “I’ll make sure to do that, too.”

  “You mean that, don’t you?” Fiona said. “You really think you’re going to survive this, even get a chance to kill Pollard.”

  “I’ve survived worse.”

  “Have you?”

  “Don’t ask,” Norris said. “This guy’s past is murkier than the mud your boys have been forcing us to traipse through the last three months.”

  “Two and a half,” Keo said.

  “You sure?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  Probably.

  “What did you do before all of this?” she asked Keo.

  “I worked for some guys based out of Raleigh, North Carolina.”

  “He used to be a mercenary,” Norris said.

  “Eh, we’ve been called various things,” Keo said. “Some more unseemly than others. Mercenaries is just one.”

  “What are the other things people have called you?” Fiona asked.

  “Why the curiosity?”

  “Just curious.”

  He smiled. “A lot of other thing
s, depending on what we do. But mostly, we stay in the shadows.”

  “Why?”

  “Hard to shoot something you can’t see.” He added, “It’s a living. Well, it was a living.”

  “Sounds like a dangerous way to make a living.”

  He gave her a noncommittal shrug.

  She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she said, “What kind of name is Keo, anyway?”

  “Bill was taken,” Keo said.

  *

  “How many?” Keo asked.

  “Too many,” Norris said.

  Keo leaned against the wall and peered out the bullet-riddled window across from Norris. Humid air flowed through the holes and merged with the already stale interior of the house’s second floor. He ignored the heat and concentrated on the figures moving across the ground, darting between a field of trees and toward them.

  He counted six. Add that to the two already below them (or was it three?), and it was eight people at least. All of them armed with assault rifles and, as far as he knew, an unlimited supply of ammo and God knew what else they had in their arsenal. Fiona had, after all, tried to take him out with a grenade and a smoke canister. What did the ones waiting below them have? Or the six coming over?

  Screwed doesn’t even begin to describe this lovely day.

  He thought about taking a shot at the closest black-clad figure moving between the trees. The man was doing his best to stay hidden, even employing a zig-zag pattern as he raced out from behind cover.

  Keo decided against it. He needed to conserve ammo right now. He counted a magazine and a half for the M4, which was now his backup weapon. The loaded magazine only had ten bullets left, while he had a full spare in one of his pouches. There were also the two reloads for the Glock, which still had almost a full mag ready to go. But handguns weren’t going to do much against eight (at least) people with assault rifles. The upside was that Fiona had attacked him with a Heckler & Koch MP5K. She had also been carrying three spares for her submachine gun with thirty rounds each, which meant he now had three spares for his MP5SD since the two weapons utilized compatible steel magazines. That, more than anything, was the best damn news he had gotten all day.

  “More will come,” Fiona said behind them.

  Keo glanced back at her. He was surprised she hadn’t decided to risk running for the stairs while his back was turned. The distance was less than eight meters and she could probably have made it if she got a good enough jump. He pegged her chances at fifty-fifty, which wasn’t bad. Hell, he would have gone for it.

  So I guess she’s smarter than me.

  “How many more?” Keo asked.

  “It depends on how close Pollard is. How many did you see out there?”

  Keo glanced over at Norris, who shrugged.

  “Six,” Keo said.

  “Then Pollard isn’t here yet. When he comes, you’ll know it.”

  “How many is he bringing?” Norris asked.

  “It could be anywhere from ten to twenty, depending on who else is nearby. He has most of them stationed at the visitors’ building near the entrance of the park.”

  “How many there?” Keo asked.

  “Maybe twenty more? The rest were in the woods, pushing you guys down here. You didn’t think you ended up pinned against the south shoreline by accident, did you? This was Pollard’s plan all along.”

  “How many people does he have out there?” Norris asked. He sounded slightly exasperated by all the numbers Fiona was throwing at them.

  “Fifty, give or take,” Fiona said. “Not counting the ones you’ve killed already. There are more back in Corden.” She frowned. “I told you. It doesn’t matter where you go. Pollard will follow you all the way to hell, and he’s got people who will do everything he tells them.”

  Keo and Norris exchanged another look. He was pretty sure he had just seen something that looked more than a little bit like fear in the ex-cop’s eyes that time. He wondered what Norris was seeing in his.

  Fifty more. That was how many men Pollard had with him at the moment. Not counting the ones already below, or the ones that just showed up. Just short of sixty. Maybe over sixty.

  Fucking Joe.

  He looked back at Fiona. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” she said.

  “What will Pollard do when he gets here?”

  She shook her head. He could tell that she had been thinking about the same question all this time, and she didn’t look as if she liked her own conclusions. “If you’re asking me will Pollard do everything in his power to make sure I don’t die along with you two, then you’re barking up the wrong tree. He doesn’t give a shit about me. I’m expendable. We all are to him.”

  “Those two down there backed away when I had you at gunpoint. They seemed to give plenty of shits about you.”

  She nodded. “Eric and Wally are my friends. I would do the same for them.”

  “But Pollard…”

  “He’s not my friend.” She stared at him stone-faced. “Once he shows up, he’s going to send in people who don’t care if I live or die. Their primary goal will be to take the two of you.”

  “Why would he do that?” Norris asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What he means is, you had a grenade,” Keo said. “You were trying to kill us. Why would Pollard throw men up here to capture us now?”

  “It’s his MO. Pollard was willing to just kill you when you were out there running around. But now that you’re cornered, he’ll want more. He’ll demand his pound of flesh. He’ll want to take his time with the two of you because he can afford to now.”

  “Damn,” Norris said. “This guy sounds like a ball of laughs. How’d you get involved with a charmer like that, kid?”

  “It’s the end of the world, old man,” Fiona said, as if that should explain it.

  Keo guessed that it did.

  You survive. Even if that means following someone like Pollard. Because doing so means you get to keep surviving…

  “You killed Pollard’s only son,” Fiona said, leaning her head back against the wall. “He loved that boy. Doted on him. The only reason he let Joe attack the house was because he thought he had it all planned out, and his second-in-command was leading the charge.”

  “He down there now?” Norris asked. “This second-in-command?”

  “That’d be a hell of a feat. Pollard tied him to a tree and left him outside at night after he came back without Joe. We could hear him screaming throughout the night. I swear, they were messing with him, taking their time.”

  “What do you mean?” Keo said. “Who was messing with him?”

  “The creatures,” Fiona said. “The bloodsuckers. I’d never seen anyone take that long to die. He must have screamed until almost sunrise…”

  *

  5:05 p.m.

  Running out of time…

  He could hear them moving below on the first floor, sometimes racing past the stair landing or going back and forth around the house on the outside. Every now and then, there was the distant squawk of a radio call, but they were either too far away or too hidden behind walls for him to make out what they were saying. One thing was for sure: they weren’t going to attack. At least, not yet.

  They’re waiting for Pollard…

  “Where was he when you last saw him?” Keo asked Fiona. “Pollard.”

  “At the visitors’ building,” she said. “He doesn’t do the dirty work. Running around after you two is for grunts like me.”

  “Sounds like a swell guy,” Norris said.

  “He’s an officer,” Keo said. “That’s what they do. Give orders, then wait for someone else to make it happen.”

  “I thought you weren’t ex-military,” Fiona said.

  “I wasn’t. But I’ve been around enough of them.”

  “Your dad was one, right?” Norris said.

  “An officer? No. He was a working man. It was one of his better qualities, and he didn’t have ve
ry many to begin with.”

  “Daddy issues, huh?” Fiona said.

  “Not really,” Keo said. “He’s dead and I’m still alive.”

  “Definitely daddy issues.”

  “I’m not the one following a maniac through half of Louisiana.”

  “Point taken,” she sighed.

  He got up and moved toward the stairs and leaned around the newel, then took a quick glance down at the first floor. From up here, he could see straight down to the damaged bottom half. Fiona’s grenade had gutted almost one third of the steps, leaving behind just enough for him to lead her up at gunpoint earlier. That was another accidental plus. It made the path unnecessarily treacherous for those downstairs, especially if there were more than one coming up at the same time.

  “Anything?” Norris said behind him.

  “Not a peep.”

  “They’re going to wait you out until Pollard shows up,” Fiona said. “It’s funny…”

  “What’s that?” Keo said.

  “Everyone liked Bobby, Pollard’s nephew. He was a good kid. But Joe? No one really liked the little bastard. He was always too aware of his position. Or his father’s, anyway. He always knew what buttons to push to get things his way. Sweet and innocent one moment, then a real smarmy asshole the next.”

  And he was a hell of an actor, too.

  Norris was looking at him curiously. “What’re you thinking, kid?”

  “When Pollard shows up, it’s over.”

  “Yeah, I figured that part out by my little lonesome. So what are we gonna do about it, that’s the question.”

  Keo grinned. “What would Riggs do in this situation?”

  Norris laughed. “I think you know the answer to that one.”

  “Who’s Riggs?” Fiona asked.

  Keo got up and walked back to the wall where he had placed Fiona’s pack. He rifled through the contents and pulled it out. It sported camouflage colors and was slightly five inches long and one-and-a-half inches wide, with a pin at one end.

  He looked over at Norris. “You ready for this, old-timer?”

  “No,” Norris said, “but when has that ever stopped your crazy ass from doing something anyway?”

  “Um, what’s going on, guys?” Fiona said, more than just a touch of worry in her voice.