by Sam Sisavath
“You met him. Buck,” Keo said.
She leaned her head back against the soft upholstery. “White hair. Forties?”
“Forties or fifties. Ish.”
“Looked forties to me. Maybe late forties.”
“Age is just a number, anyway. What matters is what he’s doing out there.”
“What is he doing out there?”
Now it was Keo’s turn. He told her about a place called Winding Creek, a small town in the middle of nowhere, where he had spent the last year of his life, and other places that had suffered the same fate as Winding Creek and Kohl’s Port. One of them was Dresden, where Macy and the others had gone. Did they ever make it, she wondered. And if they did, was there anything left to make it to?
But she didn’t interrupt Keo and listened quietly, doing her best to keep her head from imploding at the same time. Fenton, Buck, some place called Jonah’s farther down south that she remembered Buck and Redman talking about back in the stables.
When he was finished, Gaby asked, “Why are they doing this?”
Keo shook his head. “I don’t have a clue.”
“None?”
He shrugged.
“What?” Gaby pressed.
“I don’t know,” Keo said. “A lot of conjectures and guesses. Wait, are those the same?”
“I think so.” Gaby stared across the room at him. He looked as if he knew something but didn’t want to say it, for whatever reason. “So what do you know?”
“They’re taking women and children from the raids.”
She thought about Reese, still back there in Fenton…
Where I left her…
“They did that at Kohl’s Port, too,” she said. “Why?”
“I’ve been trying to find the answer to that one, but I haven’t come close.”
“You were at Fenton.”
“Uh huh.”
“What were you doing there?”
“They took a friend of mine.”
“From Winding Creek?”
“Correct.”
“Any luck?”
“Not yet. Ran across you first and had to change plans.”
“Sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “Eh. Adapt or perish, right?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah.”
“You hungry?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“You’re not sure?”
“My head hurts. I’m not even sure this is real or if I’m imagining this entire conversation we’re having.”
“Trust me, I’m real. I think.”
Keo tossed the bag over to her, and Gaby barely caught it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the scent of venison hit her. She pulled out the still-warm strips of meat and chewed on them. The burst of energy was almost instantaneous, and even the throbbing in her skull seemed to fade just a little bit. Not much, but enough that she didn’t want to bang her head against the wall to make it stop.
“What is this?’ she asked.
“Fawn meat.”
“You killed a fawn?”
“I would never do such a thing to an innocent woodland creature…unless I was really hungry. Or needed a snack.”
She grunted at him.
He grinned. “But no. That came from friends of the ones that gave you that pounding headache. What did you do, head butt one of them?”
“It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
Keo chuckled. “I can relate.”
“You shot them.”
“I considered using harsh language but didn’t think it would be as effective as a magazine of nine mils.”
“You picked the right option.”
“Glad you approve. So, were those Buckies after you or me?”
“Buckies?”
“That’s what I call them, on account of them being Buck’s boys.”
“Mercerians. Buckies. Real clever, Keo.”
“You think so?”
“Not really.”
They exchanged a brief grin.
“But to answer your question, I had to kill a couple of them after Kohl’s Port,” Gaby said. She left out the part with June in the woods, and added instead, “I guess they were after me.”
“I killed a few of them myself on my way up here.”
“How many is ‘a few?’”
“A dozen or so.”
“Or so?”
“Give or take.”
She took a moment to recall what Buck’s men—or Buckies, as Keo called them—had said while they stood over her. “I think those guys you killed were after me. They went through a lot of trouble to take me alive.”
“Sounds like you made quite an impression on ol’ Buckaroo.”
“I think he just wanted me alive to get information on Black Tide.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s worried we might interfere with whatever he’s got going on down here. He’s been keeping tabs on us. Did you know he used to be a Mercerian?”
Keo nodded. “I figured. The whole circled M thing.”
“Yeah.” She paused for a moment. “Thanks. For saving my life.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I guess I owe you.”
Keo smiled.
“What?” Gaby said.
“You don’t wanna owe me, kid.”
“Please stop calling me kid.”
“How old are you now?”
“Old enough to hate being called kid.”
“Fair enough,” Keo said. “Does Black Tide know you’re in Fenton?”
Gaby shook her head and tore into another piece of deer meat. It was soft and tender and seasoned just right. “I don’t know. They caught me outside of Kohl’s Port. You know where that is?”
“No.”
“A seaside town southeast from here. Knowing the island, they probably have a search team out there looking for me after what happened to Lightning Two. Who knows what they might have found out by now.”
“How are they doing, by the way?”
“Busy,” Gaby said. She gave him a long and curious look before finally asking the question that had been on her mind for years now. “Why’d you leave, Keo? One day you were there, the next you were gone.”
He turned around to look out the open window. “It was time.”
“That’s it? That’s your explanation?”
“I’m not good at staying in one place for too long.”
“You could have at least said good-bye.”
“I’m not very good at saying good-byes, either.”
“Danny saw it coming. He called you a ronin. Whatever that is. And Lara…” She saw his shoulders tensing slightly at the name. “She was disappointed you didn’t stay.”
“She knows why I had to leave,” Keo said. “We talked before I left.”
“She told us. Not the why of it, but that you’d left.”
“It was a private conversation.”
“I figured that. Still, there were a lot of times when we could have really used you.”
“You had an Army Ranger. You didn’t need me.”
“Danny’s good, but he can’t be everywhere at once.”
“They have you.”
She grunted. “I’m not that good.”
He chuckled. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
The compliment pleased her, especially considering the source. But it also embarrassed her a little, and Gaby said, “Got some water?”
“In the pack next to you.”
She looked down at a tactical pack leaning against the sofa. Gaby unzipped it and pulled out a warm bottle of water. The pounding in her head had lessened, but it was still enough of a nuisance that just lifting the bottle to her lips made her wince.
“Painkillers on the side,” Keo said.
She fished out an unlabeled white plastic bottle and shook out two pills, then downed them with the help of the water. “You’ve run into trouble?”
&
nbsp; “That goes without saying.”
“I guess so.” She paused for a moment to drink some more water. “Looks like you’re running a bit low on everything. You okay?”
“A couple of scrapes and bruises. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I bet, she thought. Besides Will and Danny, Keo was the only other person she’d met who simply refused to let something like a bullet wound (or two, or even three) stop them in their tracks. It wasn’t that they were invincible—far from it, in fact—but they were just too damned stubborn to quit.
Gaby said, “So who’s this woman you’re trying to save?”
“Her name’s Emma. I sort of promised her daughter I’d get her back.”
“Sort of?”
“I actually did promise her, I guess.”
“Is Emma beautiful?” Then, before he could answer, Gaby smiled and added, “Of course she’s beautiful. Who am I talking to here?”
Keo glanced back at her. “Are you saying I’m superficial?”
“I’m saying you’re a guy.”
“Can’t argue with that logic.”
With water and food and painkillers in her system, Gaby found renewed strength to stand up (Easy does it, girl!) and walked slowly, very slowly over to where Keo stood.
“You should stay down, kid,” Keo said. “You took a hell of a beating. Pretty sure you have a concussion or two. Or twelve.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you say so.”
She almost toppled sideways at least five times on the walk over. He was right. She was off-balance, and the jackhammers going off inside her skull were definitely signs of a concussion. But she managed to get there anyway and leaned against the other side of the open window and looked out.
If the town of Sandy-something was nearby, she couldn’t locate it from the window. They were in a building near the back of some kind of ranch, with nothing but flat wide-open fields covered in swaths of sunburnt grass around them. A dirt road extended out from a two-story building—it looked like a farmhouse—and to a highway almost a football field away.
“Are you sure we’re safe this close to the enemy?” Gaby asked. “We’re practically behind enemy lines.”
“Twenty miles is a hell of a lot of road to search.”
“Not when you have technicals. As far as I can tell, Fenton’s got crazy fuel reserves to run all their vehicles.” She thought about the warehouse on the island. “There’s something weird going on in that place.”
“You mean besides the raiding of surrounding towns and the taking of women and children?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
“How long were you in there?”
“Since they caught me outside of Kohl’s Port yesterday.”
“And that’s when you met Buck?”
“Yes. Why?”
Keo was smiling at her.
“What?” Gaby said.
“When I talked to Buck earlier today, he mentioned ghosts from the past. I thought he was just trying to be a literary asshole, but I guess he wasn’t. He was referring to you.”
Gaby replayed her conversation with the Bucky leader back in her head.
About Black Tide, about Mercer…
She nodded. “He was a true believer. We always wondered where they all went—the Mercerians that never came back to Black Tide after Houston, or left after we took over. There must have been a few hundred of them running around out there. You think they’re all with Buck right now?”
“Not all of them. Some. From what I can tell, Buck’s been busy taking in new recruits. Fenton’s just his latest stop. Did you meet Copenhagen while you were inside?”
“Copenhagen?”
The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Apparently one of Fenton’s original overseers during the ghoul occupation,” Keo said. “After the nightcrawlers left, he stayed behind. He and Buck are running the place now, or so I’m told.”
Gaby nodded. June. She’d mentioned the name last night, before the woods…
“I didn’t meet him while I was there,” Gaby said. “You think he’s the one calling the shots? The man responsible for all these town raids?”
“Either him or Buck. Or both of them. Not that it matters, when you get right down to it.”
“I guess not.”
Neither one of them said anything for a while, and Gaby looked down at her watch: 4:16 p.m.
“It’ll be dark soon,” she said. “Are we going to stay here overnight?”
“There’s a barn next door with a second floor. Only one way up, which makes it the most defensible building on the property.”
She nodded. He was no longer talking about fighting off Fenton’s people. Once sunlight faded completely, there would only be one real danger, and it wasn’t man.
Something moved in the corner of her eye, and Gaby turned to find a brown horse kicking at a patch of dirt in the yard. It was a big animal with a saddle, standing under the drooping sun between them and the flat highway on the other side.
“You said this was a ranch?” Gaby asked.
“Yeah, why?”
Gaby nodded at the horse.
“It’s mine,” Keo said.
“Yours?”
“Well, technically it’s not really mine, but it might as well be.” He gave her an amused look. “What, you thought I carried you twenty miles on my back?”
“The horse?”
“Uh huh.”
The animal lifted its head and looked over in their direction, almost as if it had heard them talking about him, before going back to kicking at the dirt.
“What’s it doing?” Gaby asked.
“There’s a mass grave out there. Probably more than one. Whoever spent time here before us did some cleaning.”
“What happened to them?”
“They left. A few years ago, from the looks of it.”
Gaby stared at the horse. It had gotten tired of whatever it was doing and had wandered away before stopping again to graze at some grass.
“It’s a thoroughbred,” Keo said.
“What’s that?”
“A kind of horse.”
“How do you know that?”
“Contrary to popular belief—or what Danny tells you—I’m not actually an idiot.”
“I never took you for a horse person, that’s all.”
“I’m not.”
“So when did you learn so much about horses?”
“Well, there was this time in Afghanistan…”
“Is this going to be a long story?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Let’s skip it, then. I don’t think my headache can take it.”
“Your loss. It’s a pretty good story.”
She looked out at the horse again. “Where did you find it?”
“It sort of fell in with me.”
Gaby gave him a Is this a joke? look.
“True story,” Keo said. “I’ve tried to ditch it twice now, but it just won’t go away.”
“Must be your magnetic personality.”
“Must be.”
“Does it have a name?”
“Horse.”
“Yeah, the horse.”
“No, that’s his name. Horse.”
“Seriously? You named your horse, Horse?”
“What should I have called it? John? Peter? Gabriel? Maybe something cuter, like Pinky the Horse?”
She smiled and watched the horse move on to another patch of grass. “Pinky the Horse sounds pretty good to me. Basically anything’s better than just calling it Horse.”
“Everyone’s a critic,” Keo said.
Eighteen
With an hour before nightfall, they moved from the office and over to the barn on the left side of the property. The two-story house occupied the largest space to the right—a big white structure with a wraparound porch and a swing. According to Keo, the doors and windows were broken, leaving behind a large building that would have t
aken too much effort to defend, especially with just the two of them.
The barn was an easier choice. It had been bright red when it was first built and painted, but was now a dull, almost pinkish color. The previous owners (or whoever had taken the place over after The Purge) had reinforced the two large front double doors and a back window; it also had a second floor with only one way up and down. There were some old remains of animal droppings and sprinkles of hay on the first floor, and she had a brief flashback of her captivity in Fenton.
The loft provided them with an old pallet that had been fixed up as a bed, along with stacks of used bedsheets in a corner. There was plenty of evidence that people had made use of the place before them in the form of empty MRE bags and cans. But there were no hints of old spilled blood, which meant whoever had spent time up here had left in one piece.
Except for Keo’s horse wandering around the premises outside, the ranch and its surrounding acres were empty. When she opened the loft doors and looked right up State Highway 359, she could just barely make out the outlines of buildings in the distance, about two miles from them. According to Keo, that was the main town of Sandy-something.
The ranch itself was surrounded by flat open land, which meant there weren’t a lot of places for people to sneak up on them. There were trees on the other side of the highway, but they were sporadic and spread out and nothing like the dense woods outside Fenton. The second floor of the barn gave her a wide view of the countryside, and she wouldn’t have any problems making out a vehicle coming toward them for miles. But, of course, she would be able to hear them well before she ever saw them.
Right now, though, she wasn’t too worried about Buck’s men catching up to them. At least not today, with the skies getting progressively darker and darker with every passing minute.
She glanced over as Keo climbed up the ladder behind her and dumped a pile of extra blankets on the floor. He grimaced a bit as he did it, which wasn’t the first time. She’d seen it earlier, in the office building. Apparently she wasn’t the only one running around with aches and pains.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I’ll live,” he said.
“That’s not what I asked.”