The Fires of Atlantis (Purge of Babylon, Book 4)

by Sam Sisavath

  “Are you saying you’re Tim Robbins?”

  “Hell no. I’m much handsomer.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, buddy.”

  “I do every day. Someone’s gotta.”

  They stepped over the blood—a difficult feat, since there was so much spread around the narrow passageway—and continued down toward the lobby, drawn forward by the warmth of the morning heat. There was just enough sunlight as they neared the half-circle arched entrance that they began to relax.

  “Right in the head?” Danny said.

  “How many times are you going to ask me?”

  “So it’s the brain.”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  “When will that be, you think?”

  “Five years, two months, one week, and three days from now.”

  “I’m gonna hold you to that. Anything else you wanna share, now that we’re both in a sharing mood?”

  “I think Kate’s going to attack the island.”

  Danny sighed. “How many times have I told you? Stop dating the psycho bitches. But do you ever listen to me? Noooooo.”

  “In my defense, we barely dated.”

  “You know what I always say about those one-night stands, man. They’re killer.”

  The lobby looked like a war zone, with shards of glass covering most of the tiled floor, scattered among dozens of bleached-white bones. The acrid smell of evaporated flesh and tainted blood hung in the air.

  Will started breathing through his mouth again. It seemed like he was doing a lot of that lately.

  They maneuvered around the chaos and death and stepped outside onto the sidewalk and into the hot sun. The street looked even more empty this morning, and the city of Dunbar was eerily quiet, with hardly any wind at all. Debris and spent shell casings littered the streets.

  Except for the two of them, there were no sounds or signs of any other survivors.

  Danny looked over at Ennis’s next door. “You think any of them made it?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Maybe Rachel got out.”

  “You think?”

  Danny thought about it, then shook his head. “Nah, I can’t even muster up enough optimism for that one.”

  “Some Captain Optimism.”

  “I know, I’m really not living up to the title these days. You wanna give it a try for a while?”

  “No thanks.”

  Danny glanced around him for a moment, then said, “So, what else did your ghoulfriend say about attacking the island?”

  *

  Ennis’s basement was covered in swaths of dried red blood. Or, at least, the part of it that they could see using the light pouring in from the side door. There were still large sections of the room covered in darkness, and Will and Danny scanned the place with their flashlights first and were surprised to find it empty.

  They headed straight into the back, where Rachel’s people had taken their packs last night. They found what they needed in a corner, some of the contents spilled around the area. Everything was still there, including the radio.

  They hurried out and climbed back up to the alley next door, then stepped through another graveyard of bones, this one thicker and deeper and longer than the one in the Dunbar museum. It was impossible to take a step without crunching a femur or snapping a finger or pulverizing ribcages. The lingering acrid smell of dead ghouls was overwhelming, and they had to put handkerchiefs over their mouths and nose to get through the alley on their way in and out.

  Will took a moment to gather himself back out on the sidewalk, pulling out a warm bottle of water from one of the packs and quenching his thirst. He spent the rest of it washing as much of the blood and grime off his face and hands as possible. Danny had already wasted two bottles cleaning the dry blood off his face, grimacing and hissing each time he touched his broken nose.

  The city hadn’t gotten any livelier since they stepped outside the museum thirty minutes ago, though it seemed to have gotten hotter, the streets on both sides of him flickering like mirages.

  He found a beat-up red truck on the curb and sat the portable ham radio down on the hood and powered it on. He pressed the pre-set button to bring up the island’s designated emergency frequency and adjusted the attached antenna as high as it would go.

  “How’s this going to work?” Danny asked, drinking the rest of his second bottle. Mostly free of his bloody mask, he actually looked even more bruised and battered in the sunlight, if that was possible.

  “What do you mean?”

  “So, you’re just going to tell Lara that your psycho ex is going to launch an attack on the island, and that she told you herself in a dream?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “And this doesn’t strike you as the least bit odd?”

  He thought about it. Then, “Lara and I have talked about it before.”

  “And she believes you?”

  “Of course she does.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—” Will stopped.

  It was a good question. But whenever he thought about it, he always came back to the same answer: because Lara had seen Kate that night in Harold Campbell’s facility back in Starch, Texas. Once you’ve seen the blue-eyed creatures and had their existence confirmed with your own eyes, it was easier to accept that they were capable of things that weren’t always entirely explainable. Danny, for all his involvement in their survival, had never actually seen Kate. Last night was, in fact, the first time he even saw one of the blue-eyed ones.

  “Because she’s seen them,” Will said finally. “Just like you did last night. Did you really believe me before then?”

  “Of course,” Danny said without hesitation.

  “Really?”

  “Well…” Danny grinned. “Okay, I had my doubts.”

  “And after last night?”

  Danny sighed and nodded at the radio. “Call the island. Then we have to get the hell back there as soon as we can.”

  *

  “Are you sure?” Lara asked.

  “Yes,” Will said.

  “Will, are you sure?”

  “Lara, she’s coming. I don’t know how, or when, but she made it pretty clear that she’s been ignoring the island all this time because we haven’t been worth her attention.”

  “And now, because of the broadcast, she’s paying attention again. So all of this is my fault.”

  According to Kate, yes, he thought, but said, “Don’t blame yourself. It was bound to happen sooner or later. We couldn’t hope to stay under the radar forever. We’re a loose end. She said as much.”

  “Kate…”

  “Yes.”

  “Goddammit, Will.” He could hear the exasperation in her voice. And maybe a little bit of anger. Or a lot of anger. It was sometimes hard to get all the nuances of someone’s tone over the radio.

  “Look, anything she says can’t be taken at face value,” Will said. “Maybe she’ll attack, and maybe she won’t. Maybe it’s because of the radio broadcast, or maybe she’s just using it as an excuse. I don’t know. But we shouldn’t take any chances.”

  Lara didn’t say anything for a while.

  “Lara…”

  “I’m still here,” she said. “What about Gaby?”

  Now it was his turn to take a long pause.

  “Will, what about Gaby?”

  “The island is vital, Lara.”

  “It’s just an island.”

  “But you’re on it. And Carly. And the kids…”

  “You have to find Gaby. We don’t leave our own behind, remember?”

  He wanted to find Gaby, but he couldn’t deny what had happened last night. Kate had all but ended Dunbar and its occupants. It had been so easy, too. That was the most disturbing part. Everyone who was here before last night was dead (or worse), and that included Gaby. Will was still certain she had come into the city. What were t
he chances she had made it out after last night?

  “We’ll keep looking for her on our way back,” he said finally.

  He must not have been convincing enough, because she said, “Will, you can’t leave her out there alone. Not again. You can’t give up now.”

  “The island is important, Lara. We can’t lose it.” He added, “Gaby would understand.”

  There was another long silence, this time from both of them.

  “Do you know where she is now?” Lara finally asked.

  “That’s the problem. Danny and I tracked her to Dunbar yesterday. If she was still here after nightfall… I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’ll keep looking. But the island, Lara, the island…”

  “I know,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the connection. “I know.”

  He didn’t know what else to say and was grateful for the sound of a car engine coming from up the street. He glanced back as Danny turned the corner in a white Ford Bronco.

  “Danny found a vehicle,” Will said into the mic. “I have to go.”

  “Find her, Will. Do everything you can to find her.”

  “Lara…”

  “Promise me.”

  “The island…”

  “Don’t worry about the island. I’ll take care of us here. You just take care of yourself and Danny, and find Gaby. Find her, Will.”

  If she’s even still alive, he thought, but said, “We’ll keep looking for her on our way back. But we can’t stay out here forever. Not with the island in danger.”

  “There’s something…” she started to say.

  “What is it?”

  She didn’t answer right away.

  “What is it, Lara?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing that I can’t handle. Just find her and come home. In the meantime, I’ll look after things here. You trust me, don’t you?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Good. I love you, Will.”

  He smiled. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He put the microphone down and turned off the radio as Danny parked the Bronco in the middle of the street behind him, then hopped down from the raised driver side door.

  “How’d it go?” Danny asked.

  “It went.”

  “You told her about Gaby?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And she was fine with us coming back without the kid?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to tell Carly it was all your idea.”

  Will grunted. “Sounds fair to me.” He nodded at the truck. “Where’d you find that beast?”

  “Auto body garage next to a VFW hall on the other side of town. Harrison might have been an idiot, but he wasn’t a total idiot. There were a half dozen working vehicles inside, including a fuel truck. Working batteries, too. From the looks of it, they kept all the cars running just in case.”

  “Any survivors?”

  “There was a hell of a lot of blood in the VFW. They had the windows and doors barricaded, but apparently it didn’t work. There was a basement in the back, but I heard scurrying from down there and decided I’d rather not investigate further.”

  “Smart.”

  “It’s been known to happen.” Danny watched Will pack up the radio. “Song Island or bust?”

  “No choice,” Will said. The words came out like gravel. “Can’t take the chance that Kate will attack without us there.”

  Danny nodded. Will knew he didn’t like the idea of giving up their search for Gaby any better than he did. But like him, Danny had come to the same conclusion.

  The island. They had to protect the island. It wasn’t just the beach and the hotel and the solar power, though those were important, too. It was the people on the island.

  Lara, Carly, Vera, and Elise….

  We can’t lose the island. Not now. Not after we’ve fought so hard to keep it.

  “Well, let’s get truckin’, then,” Danny said. “I’m driving.”

  “You’re a terrible driver.”

  “I’m a great driver. Better than great. I’m a spectacular driver. Back in college, they used to call me Danny the Driver. True story.”

  *

  The back of the Bronco was piled high with supplies Danny had raided from the VFW hall, though to hear him tell it, there were probably more goodies in the basement. He had stockpiled a generous amount of MREs, granola bars, and unopened cases of bottled water. He had also picked up weapons and ammo, along with a Mossberg pump-action and a FNH self-loading tactical shotgun.

  Will grabbed the FNH from the back and turned it over. Eighteen inches, black matte finishing, and it didn’t look as if it had ever been used. It had a metal shell carrier along the left side with six shells already preloaded. The shotgun was semi-automatic, which meant you didn’t need to pump it after each shot. Harris County SWAT had been thinking about switching from the Remingtons to the FNHs but had never gotten around to it.

  “Nice, right?” Danny said. “For the lazy shotgunner.”

  “I can dig it,” Will said.

  “There’s a box of ammo in the back if you can find it.”

  Will had to rummage around the water and lumps of shiny MRE bags before he found the box of shells on the floor. He tossed it into his pack. “This was all in the VFW hall?”

  “Most of it.”

  “Last stand?”

  “Looked like it. A hell of a mess. I think they had kids in there, too.”

  “How could you tell?”

  “I just could,” Danny said, but didn’t elaborate.

  “So there were definitely more goodies in the basement,” Will said. “An armory, maybe, where they kept more of these.”

  “Probably.”

  “It might have been worth it to go down there.”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  “When did you get so queasy around these things?”

  “Since shooting them only got me these little keepsakes,” Danny said, touching his broken nose, then rubbing—and grimacing—the red gash along his temple. “Now I know how you feel walking around with that face all day.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, pretty boy.”

  “What the hell for? There’s nothing out here. Even less than nothing. If there was a name for this place, they’d call it Nothingland. Nothingapolis. Loadacrapola.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Route 13 out of Dunbar was uneventful. Will was ready for an ambush or at least some kind of activity on their way out, but there was none. The streets remained deserted, and the main highway connecting Dunbar to Interstate 10 was a flat two-lane road with empty scenery on both sides of them. He expected to start seeing farmland and houses soon, but apparently they hadn’t ventured far out enough.

  ‘Loadacrapola’ is right.

  Then Danny said, “Whoa,” and slowly stepped on the brake.

  Will looked out the front windshield and immediately saw a body lying across the highway where Route 13 intersected with a country road on its right side.

  “Body?” Will said.

  “Body,” Danny nodded.

  “Stay sharp.”

  “I’m so sharp I give myself pinpricks.”

  Will put down the FNH and unslung the M4A1. The window was already rolled down, so all he had to do was focus in order to listen in on his surroundings. Not that he could hear very much over the churning of the Ford’s engines. He did glimpse something to his right in the distance, along the country road. It looked like a cemetery.

  Now that’s not an ominous sign at all.

  Danny stopped in front of the body. It was wearing a camo uniform and lying on its stomach. “Ambush?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “You go out and make sure while I wait in here.”

  “Don’t leave without me.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Will opened the passenger side door and hopped down. He scanned the area—the land to his right, then up and down the h
ighway. He stepped on bullet casings as he moved toward the body.

  The figure was definitely dead, fresh blood pooling underneath him. The man’s hip holster was empty and there was no sign of a weapon nearby. Will turned the man over onto his back with the toe of his boot. Male, twenties, with a ponytail. “Lumis” was written over his right breast pocket. He hadn’t been dead for very long. There were no vultures or crows circling above, so the smell hadn’t reached the carrions yet. He had been shot once in the hip, then again in the back.

  His right ear clicked, and Danny’s voice came through the earbud in his ear, part of the comm system they had recovered from Ennis’s basement earlier. “Dead?”

  “Looks dead to me.”

  “Give it mouth to mouth just in case.”

  “I think I’ll skip that part.”

  “Why, cause he’s a guy? You’re such a homophobe.”

  Will straightened up and looked around at the flat country landscape again. There was nothing out here, which made stumbling across a body odd. Someone had to have killed this man. Maybe someone had actually survived Dunbar last night. Maybe that person might have even been Gaby…

  Captain Optimism.

  “I’m heading back,” he said into his throat mic.

  He was halfway to the Bronco when he heard rustling and spun back around toward the ditch that ran alongside the country road. He didn’t hesitate and ran toward the source of the sound with his rifle at the ready.

  “Don’t shoot!” a voice shouted as he neared.

  Another man in his early twenties, also wearing camo, was crouched in the ditch with his hands raised high. The man was unarmed, sporting an empty hip holster and a makeshift tourniquet around his right ankle. His face was pale and he was covered in sweat, and the name “Darren” was stenciled across his nametag.

  “Don’t shoot!” Darren shouted again.

  “Get up here,” Will said.

  Darren hesitated, then stood up and climbed out of the ditch with some difficulty. The handkerchief he had tied around his ankle was covered in blood and he winced each time he put pressure on the leg.

  Danny had come out of the Bronco and was standing behind Will now, scanning their surroundings for possible signs of a threat. “Looks like we missed the party.”

  “Looks like,” Will said. Then to Darren, “What happened here?”