Black (Road To Babylon, Book 5)

by Sam Sisavath

  She sucked in some of the stale air around her. Thinking about Houston reminded her of Keo, who had been with her then. Danny had also been there. She wished both men were here now, alongside her and Lara. Two men might not have been enough to turn the tide of tonight’s battle, but she couldn’t imagine it would have hurt.

  But they weren’t here.

  Keo was in Fenton on a mission, and Danny was in another state. Even if he marshalled all his forces and came running, he wouldn’t arrive before morning anyway, and Gaby had a bad feeling this fight was going to be decided well before sunup.

  Eight

  The halfway point was really three-fourths of the way to the backup OP, consisting of three long tunnels linked together by steel doors. It was originally designed as a Cold War-era bomb shelter with each section labeled A, B, and C, with A now repurposed for OP2 and the warehouse sitting on top of the C entrance. C itself went on for another hundred or so meters behind them, all the way to the original sealed entrance, but they had walled up that part to prevent anyone from accessing the place who didn’t know about the Black Tide-created door.

  The shelters had been unused for decades until Black Tide arrived, and in the days that followed, they’d cleaned up the tunnels and made them usable again by supplying a separate emergency power to the electronics. They had done it without alerting most of the town’s residents, though Darby Bay’s leaders knew all about it.

  They were surrounded by concrete and steel as they moved through C, with B somewhere in front of them and, eventually, A at the very end. The bunkers had been chosen for their defensive capabilities but also because A still contained most of its original parts, including a wide array of communications infrastructure that had been restored and augmented with new equipment. From A, Lara could reform command and organize while also making long-range contact with other Black Tide assets through the available gear.

  She remembered Lara looking over at her as they toured the place and saying, “Hopefully we won’t have to use it, but just in case.”

  “Just in case,” Gaby had replied.

  There were a couple of turns between C and B, and they took them without incident, passing metal doors along the walls into small rooms on the way. From previous visits down here, Gaby knew that the rooms had originally been designed to accommodate survivors. There were old unused cots inside them, along with blankets and boxes of clothing, but they’d thrown those away. The shelters were a last resort, and there wasn’t much about it that looked accommodating or aesthetically pleasing. But the overall construction had stood the test of time, and it would do.

  Just in case, right, Lara?

  Mueller and Becker led the way, with Gaby in the middle, and Leo and Hartnett continuing to bring up the rear. The only sounds for the longest time were their footsteps and the hum of old halogen lights that lined the walls, turning everything around her yellow. They had considered replacing the lights with brighter LEDs, but that would have been more trouble than it was worth. The fact that the power was on at all meant Lara was already safe in A, the emergency generators up and running.

  Unlike the last time Gaby had found herself moving underneath a city’s tunnel system, there was no suffocating darkness or the pungent smell of waste trying to choke her to death. The air was sterile and stale in spots, but it wasn’t unbearable. There was no one to greet them but old and scarred gray concrete walls and steel pipes along the ceiling. Their boots tap-tap-tapped against the hard pavement, and any wariness Gaby had about being underground and so close to the ocean had been overcome when she was down here days ago to familiarize herself with the setup.

  “Lights are still on,” Becker said absently. “I thought they took out the city’s power?”

  “The tunnels aren’t using the city’s power; they’re using backups we installed down there,” Gaby said.

  “Hunh. That’s smart.”

  “Yeah, well, we have our moments,” Gaby said and thought, Too bad most of them weren’t tonight.

  “Almost at the end of C now, see you at B in a few,” Mueller was saying in front of her, with one hand on his radio. His comm was tuned into Parrish’s unit, which had its own separate channel from the one her radio was currently locked on.

  “What did they say?” Gaby asked.

  “Captain just wanted an update on our location, ma’am. They’re anxious to get you reunited with the big boss.”

  Gaby wondered if he’d said the ma’am part with anything that even resembled resentment, but of course she could only see the back of his gray-flecked head. In her experience, not everyone appreciated being bossed around by a twenty-something girl. Mueller, as far as she could tell, was much older than her. While he probably couldn’t pass for her dad, an older brother wouldn’t have been too much of a stretch.

  “Did he say if they were able to make contact with Galveston and Larabie?” Becker asked Mueller.

  “No,” Mueller said. Then, “Cindy’s in Galveston, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she is.” Becker glanced over at Gaby. “Cindy is Goldman’s wife.”

  Gaby nodded. “There’s a hundred reasons why we might have lost communications with them.”

  “Yeah, but both FOBs, at the same time, in the same night we’re attacked?”

  Gaby thought, That’ll teach me to lie out of my ass to comfort someone.

  She said instead, “We don’t know what’s going out there yet, so it’s pointless to speculate. Let’s just concentrate on what we know.”

  “But you know more than us. You know what’s really happening out there.”

  “You’re assuming too much,” she said as they took another turn into another long hallway with similar gray concrete walls and yellow lights.

  “Oh, come on, Gaby. Lara doesn’t send two of her security team to wait for just anyone. What’s really happening out there? You know, don’t you?”

  I know we screwed up.

  I know we sent Keo to Fenton on some damn fool mission when we should have kept him right here.

  I know Buck is playing us for fools.

  And I know Galveston and Larabie are probably both gone.

  But she didn’t say any of those things out loud and could feel Becker’s eyes watching her, waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know any more than you do,” Gaby said as they turned another corner and, mercifully, there was the familiar steel metal door into B at the end of the shortest section of the tunnel system yet.

  Saved by the door.

  Becker clearly didn’t believe her, but he didn’t keep the conversation going. She was grateful for that.

  “Leo and Hartnett, watch the corner,” Mueller said as he led her and Becker to the door.

  The older man stopped in front of the steel plate—it was thick and looked like something that belonged on a submarine—and slung his rifle. Becker stood back while Gaby glanced over her shoulder at Leo and Hartnett pulling security behind them.

  Bang-bang-bang! as Mueller “knocked” on the heavy door with his gloved fist.

  Gaby turned around and watched him do it again.

  Bang-bang-bang!

  There wasn’t much of an echo, as the sounds died almost as soon as they ricocheted off the slabs of concrete around them.

  They waited.

  After about ten seconds, Mueller and Becker exchanged a look. She didn’t like the expression on their faces.

  Uh oh.

  There was a big handle near the center of the blast door with a lever underneath it. Mueller grabbed the lever and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s locked from the other side,” Mueller said.

  From her past visits down here, Gaby knew that the section doors could only be locked from one side. They had guessed it was because the original designers valued the contents of A over both B and C. You could lock out C from B, and B from A, but not the other way around.

  “Let me give it a shot, old man,” Becker said.

  Mueller
smirked. “Give it a try, princess.”

  Becker slung his rifle and tried pushing down on the lever, but it didn’t budge for him, either.

  “Well?” Mueller asked.

  “It’s locked,” Becker said.

  “No kidding.” Mueller reached for the radio Velcroed to his vest and clicked it. “Captain, it’s Mueller.” He paused for a bit, listening, before continuing. “Yeah, we’re at the B door now, but it’s locked and no one’s responding.”

  Mueller stopped talking to listen and listened again.

  Five seconds…

  Ten…

  “What’s he saying?” Gaby finally asked.

  “There should be two guys on the other side waiting to open the door for us, then escort us through B and to A,” Mueller said. “He’s trying to raise them now.”

  “I’m getting a bad smell about this,” Leo said from somewhere behind her. He and Hartnett were at the back of the corridor, where they could see around the corner in case anyone tried to sneak up on them.

  “You always say that,” Hartnett said. “And I always tell you, just shower more often.”

  “My BO is the least of my worries right now, bub.”

  “Not from where I’m standing.”

  “Ouch,” Leo said. “That hurts.”

  “So does my nose,” Hartnett said.

  Gaby turned back to Mueller as he clicked his radio again and spoke into his throat mic. “Roger that, sir.” Then to Becker, “They can’t reach Pelfer or Jackson on the radio.”

  “The ones waiting for us?” Gaby asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  “That’s not good,” Becker said.

  “No, it’s not,” Mueller said.

  Bang-bang-bang! as Becker pounded on the metal door with his gloved fist.

  “Didn’t you see me try that already?” Mueller asked. “Twice?”

  Becker shrugged. “Just in case they couldn’t hear you. You are old and weak, after all.”

  Mueller grunted. “This old man can still kick your ass.”

  “That’s what every old man says.”

  Another grunt from Mueller, who looked past Gaby and at Leo and Hartnett behind her. “Give me a wider security net, boys.”

  Leo and Hartnett disappeared around the corner, the tap-tap-tap of their boots fading gradually as they went farther up the connecting hallway.

  Gaby unslung her rifle and held it in front of her, and thought, Just in case.

  Next to her, Mueller was cupping his ear with a hand while listening to his earbud before turning back to her. “They’re in B and moving toward us now. Should be here in ten minutes, give or take.”

  “Still no word from Pelfer or Jackson?”

  Mueller shook his head. “No.”

  “What kind of guys are they?”

  “You mean, are they prone to fucking up?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  Mueller didn’t take very long to think about it. “They’re good guys. Everyone on the team is. You don’t get assigned to watch the big boss if you’re a scrub.” He hiked a thumb toward Becker. “Well, there are exceptions.”

  “Watch it, old man,” Becker said.

  Mueller snorted, before saying to Gaby, “We’ll find out what happened to Pelfer and Jackson soon enough. But whatever it was, I can guarantee you it wasn’t incompetence.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” Gaby said.

  “But you’re right to be worried. They should be answering their radios, and the fact that they’re not… That’s not a good sign.”

  “Unless your sign says ‘Shit Street Ahead,’” Becker said.

  Gaby didn’t say anything. In a lot of ways, it would have been better if Pelfer and Jackson were the screwing-around type, because the alternative was worse.

  And what was that alternative? That something had happened to the two men while they were waiting for them on the other side of the door. And if something had happened to them, then that same “something” was closer to Lara than Gaby was.

  “Can we open this door ourselves?” Gaby asked.

  “Don’t have to,” Mueller said. “Quincy and Docks should be here soon.”

  “I mean, could we, if we had to?”

  Mueller banged on the thick steel structure with one hand. “They call them blast doors for a reason. These things are designed to withstand the end of the world or just abouts. The walls around it are five inches of concrete. Could we open it? Sure, but it’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than what we got on us right now. There’s a reason we chose this place as a backup command center, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember,” Gaby said.

  Mueller reached for his radio and clicked it again. “You guys here yet?”

  “They’re taking their sweet time,” Becker said. “Ask them what’s—”

  Mueller held up his hand to silence Becker.

  Then, into his mic, “Quincy, Docks. Respond.”

  Gaby stared at the older man and didn’t like the displeased look on his face.

  Now what?

  Mueller clicked his radio again. “No, sir. Door’s still closed.” A beat. “They should be close by now—”

  Mueller stopped talking because he had just heard the same thing she did: The faint—extremely faint—pop-pop-pop of gunfire coming from behind the door.

  They went absolutely still and listened, Becker and Mueller leaning noticeably toward the door.

  The pop-pop-pop of small arms fire, followed by something that might have been a scream. Or screams.

  It was impossible to pinpoint what was happening in B. For all she knew, it could have been someone blaring rock music, and what she thought were gunshots could have been drums. Or guitar riffs. Or a thousand different possibilities.

  Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that.

  When she exchanged looks with Mueller and Becker, she knew she hadn’t misheard, even if what they were listening to were badly strained as the sounds attempted to pierce the thick steel structure in front of them.

  Mueller took a step back and reached for his radio. “Sir, I’m hearing gunshots coming from B.” He paused briefly before continuing. “Yes, sir. I’m positive.” He had looked over at her when he said that last part, as if for confirmation.

  Gaby nodded back.

  “Hey,” Becker said. “Listen. It’s quiet again.”

  Gaby began leaning toward the door—

  —when it started to move.

  She jumped back, lifting her rifle at the same time. Becker and Mueller mirrored her movement, and both men ended up to her left, their own carbines pointed forward.

  The door continued to move in front of them. Slowly and silently, and the only sounds were her pounding heartbeat and that of Becker’s and Mueller’s next to her.

  At least it’s not just me.

  The door continued to open.

  Slowly.

  So, so slowly.

  Widening an inch at a time…

  Gaby thought she could hear a voice speaking through Mueller’s earbud, but she was unable to distinguish what it was saying. Mueller hadn’t responded, either because the whole thing was in Gaby’s mind or it wasn’t, and he couldn’t afford to take his hands off his rifle for even a second to press the radio’s transmit lever.

  Instead, they stood side by side by side, rifles at the ready, watching as the door continued to move.

  Opening…

  Her heartbeat increased, the thumps coming faster and faster.

  And the door continued to open.

  Slowly.

  God, it was taking forever. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours?

  No. Seconds. That was all. The blast door had only been opening for the last few seconds—

  A black-clad figure fell through the small opening, slamming chest and face-first onto the hard concrete. Gaby flinched at the thwump! of the impact, like a slab of meat being mercilessly smacked against an unyielding wall.

  It was a man, and he wasn’t actu
ally dressed all in black. He was wearing the blue colors of a Black Tider, except his uniform was covered in blood.

  So much blood…

  “Shit, it’s Docks,” Mueller said. He slung his rifle and rushed forward, grabbed Docks by the extended arms, and began pulling him backward. Docks’s legs thwumped! as they were dragged over the raised bottom section of the doorframe and into their side of the tunnel.

  The door had ceased moving now that Docks, who was apparently the one pushing it from the other side, was no longer there to provide pressure. It remained partially open, with just a big enough hole for Docks to fall through but not nearly large enough for Gaby to see into the adjoining tunnel without getting closer.

  No way in hell. That’s what dumb people do in horror movies.

  Mueller had continued to drag Docks’s unconscious form behind them until it was just her and Becker facing the oval-shaped metal entrance. They waited for something else to come through, but nothing did.

  Gaby glanced back at Mueller, crouching next to Docks. She couldn’t tell if the blood-covered man was still alive or if he was even moving at all. And yet he had to have been breathing very recently, because someone had clearly unlocked the door from the other side and then pushed it open, if just barely.

  “How is he?” she asked.

  “He’s alive,” Mueller said. He was taking out a first-aid kit from his pouch and dropping the contents onto the floor next to him to get at them easier. “I don’t know for how long, though.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s bleeding out like crazy. Have to get control of it, or he’s not gonna last very long.”

  “If that’s Docks, where’s his partner?”

  Mueller looked up at Gaby, then past her at the door.

  Gaby turned back to the ajar slab of metal. It hadn’t opened any farther since the last time she looked. That was the good news. The bad news was that it meant she still couldn’t see what was on the other side without getting closer.