The Purge of Babylon: A Novel of Survival (Purge of Babylon, Book 1)

by Sam Sisavath

  “Not really.” She sighed. “You don’t realize how utterly pointless your career choice is until the world crumbles, and all the skills you spent so much time learning in order to be the best in your field become instantly useless.”

  Will chuckled in the darkness. “You make a lot of money doing something like that?”

  “More than a cop.”

  “Ouch.”

  She laughed softly. “Let me ask you something.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I’ve always wanted to know. Do they pay you extra for being in SWAT?”

  “Enough to order two Whoppers instead of one.”

  “Impressive.”

  “I could definitely go for a Whopper right about now.”

  “Would you buy me one?”

  “Why stop at one—”

  A clacking noise from the street below them cut him short.

  He reached for his Glock on the nightstand as she immediately climbed off him and slid across the bed to reach for her own holstered weapon on the floor. When she looked up, he was already at the window. She marveled at the way he moved—silently, like some kind of apparition.

  She followed him and looked down into the street. In the moonlight she could see a rolling Coke can, aluminum scratching loudly against the asphalt. It was a small sound—insignificant, but it might as well be fireworks in this new existence.

  Will pointed at something. A ghoul appeared from a bush across the street, watching with dark eyes as the can rolled past. Satisfied it wasn’t prey, it disappeared back behind the bush.

  Dead, not stupid.

  Will was smiling at her. She smiled back.

  They were both standing naked in the dark holding guns. Utterly absurd and incomprehensible a few weeks ago, but tonight, in this abandoned house with an undead creature across the street, perfectly normal.

  “You look cold,” he whispered.

  She could feel her nipples standing erect in front of him. “You look pretty cold yourself.”

  Will glanced down, then back at her. “I could change that in a hurry. You could help.”

  “I bet that kind of sweet talk gets all the girls hot and bothered.”

  He reached over and took her hand. She let him lead her back to the bed. They put their guns on the nightstand, and she pushed him down on the ruffled sheets and climbed on top. He cupped her breasts. Her nipples were fully erect and hard, and his touch sent all kinds of sensations through her.

  “You have beautiful tits,” he said. “And yes, I do say that to all the girls.”

  Kate reached back and held him against her palm. She lifted her body slightly up and guided him inside her. He moaned in the darkness. She leaned down and sought out his lips and kissed him hard, the way he had kissed her in the hallway.

  He pushed his hands through her unruly long hair and held her mouth tightly to his. He lifted himself off the bed in time to her movements. She reached orgasm faster when on top, and she could sense it coming now. It had to be the moment. The here and now, the threat of the ghoul below, and the soundless night around them.

  She opened her eyes, looked down at him. She moved faster, and he responded with urgency.

  She came in waves and bit down on her lip to keep her cries from escaping into the cold air. He grabbed her waist and reversed their positions. The satin sheets rubbed against her back and buttocks as he thrust inside her until he, too, came, stifling his own moans against her mouth. He tasted hot and sweet and salty.

  They slept the rest of the night with her body splayed on top of his, his arms around her, holding her tight. She wasn’t sure if he slept at all, but she felt his warm breath against her and the slow beating of his heart, and for a brief moment she convinced herself that things might not be so bad after all, that maybe there was something of a chance for them.

  The thought lasted until the sun came up a few hours later, when they had to untangle and go face the reality outside.

  CHAPTER 20

  WILL

  Harold Campbell was a paranoid rich man with too much time on his hands. He was perpetually afraid the United States government was going to raze his mansions—word was he had more than one, possibly three or four, depending on who you asked—or send the vicious hound dogs of the IRS after him on some trumped-up charge. One day, it occurred to Campbell that the only way to defend himself from the government was to build an underground facility that could, conceivably, withstand a nuclear strike. Unless, of course, the nuke landed directly on top of the place, and then, yeah, he’d probably go right along with the rest of humanity. Harold Campbell was paranoid, but he wasn’t stupid, after all.

  Will knew about Campbell’s flights of fancy, because he had spent two weeks trying to learn the construction business from a friend, before eventually deciding he’d rather spend his time kicking in doors and shooting bad guys instead. That friend was Tom Lerner, a fellow Ranger he and Danny knew from their time in Afghanistan. Lerner’s family business was one of many contracted to build Campbell’s underground survival lair.

  Will spent two weeks helping Lerner’s family pour concrete and install electrical components around the facility. He also spied bits and pieces of the floor plans, enough to know that he and the Lerners were building only a small portion of the structure, that there were many others at work elsewhere, a small army of builders coming and going, and more still waiting to start their phase.

  The place had multiple layers and redundancies, all designed to withstand and survive a prolonged assault. Will had never met Campbell himself—no one had, according to Tom—though every now and then he saw one of Campbell’s assistants walking around with a video camera sending live feeds to their boss back…well, wherever it was Campbell spent his days. He was never on scene, but he was nevertheless always there. Sort of.

  That was five years ago, and given Campbell’s money and resources, it wasn’t a stretch to believe the facility was finished, and probably had been years ago. The question was, had Campbell gotten to it in time? Will doubted it, unless the man was already living inside the facility at the time of what Will and the others were referring to as The Purge. That was possible, but unlikely.

  What he was fairly certain of was that the facility was there, and it was their best shot.

  He told the others all of this while they were still in Houston.

  To his surprise, they agreed to follow him out of the city.

  *

  Danny and Ted were waiting in the driveway of the temporary home base, the garage door open behind them, when he and Kate walked down the street from the house they had spent the previous night.

  Danny glanced in his direction, and a second later Will heard a click in his ear: “Took your sweet time. We were starting to wonder if you two had run off together.”

  “Thought about it,” he said, “but it would have been cruel, leaving them with you.”

  “Now that hurts. Speaking of which, you get some last night?”

  Will glanced reflexively at Kate.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He pressed the PTT switch. “Everyone good?”

  “Sounds like a ‘Yes’ to me,” Danny said in his ear. “Hopefully you still remembered how to get the job done. It’s been a while, right? Since that emo chick you picked up outside the Taco Cabana on Westheimer?”

  “Great,” Will said, aware Kate was watching him closely. “We saw about two dozen of them last night, checking the houses up and down the street.”

  “Yeah, we heard them moving around the house. Same group from yesterday, you think?”

  “Possibly.”

  “If it’s the same ones, then they’ve doubled since the last time we saw them. That’s not good.”

  “Nope. Not if they’re following us.”

  “You think they’re following us?”

  “Maybe.”

  “By the way, you didn’t answer my question. How was it? Spectacular? She looks like a spectacular lay.”
r />   “Fuck off.”

  “What’s he saying?” Kate said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

  “Something about his mom,” Will said.

  “Oh, go for the momma jokes,” Danny said in his ear. “Classy.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “He’s asking about us, isn’t he? What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing.” When she looked like she didn’t believe him, he feigned hurt. “Honest. Not a thing.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, clearly not believing a word of it.

  As they reached Danny, a motor started up and Luke rode one of the ATVs out of the garage and down the driveway. The four-wheel all-terrain vehicle, a red Yamaha with dented sides, was hauling a trailer behind it, topped with supplies underneath a heavy tarp cinched closed to keep the wind from ripping it loose.

  “Welcome back!” Luke shouted over the roar of the engine. “Thought we might have lost you guys last night!”

  “This guy?” Danny said. “Ghouls wouldn’t know what to do with him.”

  Ted rode a green Honda out after Luke, his ATV also pulling its own supply trailer. They had found the vehicles in a sports shop along Highway 59 on their way out of Houston. The place had been ransacked, but there were plenty left behind. The ATVs proved invaluable, allowing them to take the highways by staying mostly along the shoulders and maneuvering around vehicles in their path. And when they needed to, the vehicles traveled just as well along smaller roads, dirt trails, and sidewalks. The hitched trailers made carrying supplies and bullet-making materials effortless.

  Ted and Luke parked their ATVs in the street, then went back inside the garage and drove out two more. Will’s ATV was a black Yamaha that—like the other ATVs—had seen plenty of action in its previous life. It had a solid motor, which was all that mattered.

  Carly and Vera came out of the house, shielding their eyes against the glare of the sun. They looked energetic, even refreshed.

  Danny said, “Grab a shower. Bottled water, soap, and shampoo are in the bathroom on the second floor.” He wrinkled his nose. “In fact, I insist.”

  “I smell like a rose,” Will said.

  “Keep telling yourself that. We’re not going to be moving for another hour anyway. Smoke’em if you got’em.”

  Kate asked, “An hour?”

  “Go for it.”

  “If you insist.” She hurried up the driveway, stopping to chat with Carly and Vera briefly before continuing into the house.

  Will looked after her for a moment before he sensed Danny standing next to him. “What?”

  “So? Spectacular, good, or just meh?”

  “Best night of my life,” Will smiled.

  “Damn, really? I suspected, but I had no idea your sex life was that bad before everything went to shit.” He sniffed Will and made a face. “It must be the dirty, filthy, foul-smelling kind of sex.”

  “King-size bed didn’t hurt.”

  “Just like a hotel, huh?”

  “Minus the room service. We made do, though.”

  Carly came over to them. “Kate said you guys got stuck in one of the houses last night. We were worried.”

  “All’s well that ends well,” Danny said. “By which I mean they totally had sex last night.”

  “Oh, real subtle, Danny,” Carly said, rolling her eyes at him. Then she smiled at Will and said, “So, how was it? Spectacular, good, or just meh?”

  “You’ve been hanging around Danny too long,” Will said.

  *

  Harold Campbell had chosen a secluded patch of land that he had purchased years ago in the city of Starch, Texas, about thirty-two kilometers—or about two hours given their deliberate progress—from Cleveland. Starch was a city of 2,000 residents and was remote enough from prying state and federal government eyes for Campbell to get away with building his compound. The city also had something Campbell needed—Lake Livingston, a huge nearby reservoir of water.

  Between the two small cities, the highway had flattened out noticeably, with walls of trees flanking the four-lane highway. There were few elevated roads this far out of the city, and at times the road was so well-trodden that it felt as if they were driving on hard gravel. Most of the businesses they passed along the way were gas stations, diners, and every now and then, a strip mall with a few businesses vying for attention. Ancient structures that had been here forever, and had always relied on the occasional customers for survival.

  Will rode his ATV with Kate behind him. Danny rode with Vera clinging tightly to his waist, while Carly rode with Ted on his Yamaha. They were all carrying supplies in trailers. Except for Luke, whose Honda was up the road ahead of everyone. Will had given the kid the same communications gear that he, Danny, and Ted wore, so Luke could keep in touch at all times.

  He heard a click in his right ear, followed by Luke’s voice: “Hey, guys, reporting in.”

  Will clicked the PTT: “Go ahead.”

  “He shouldn’t be out that far ahead!” Kate shouted over the wind.

  Will looked farther up the road but couldn’t see any signs of Luke. He told the kid repeatedly not to get too far ahead of them, but teenagers were still teenagers. One with a very cool toy, no less. Kate hated the idea of Luke riding alone, but she had about as much control over him as Will did. Which was to say, very little.

  Luke said, “There’s an overturned semi about half a mile ahead. It’s made a pretty big pileup and there are cars blocking both sides of the highway. I don’t know if we can even go around it, it’s pretty big.”

  Will heard Danny’s voice cut in: “Luke, did you say there was an accident ahead?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Are you sure it was an accident?”

  “What do you mean?” Luke sounded confused.

  “Did it look like an accident?”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “How many cars did you say there were?”

  “I’m looking at one of those big rigs and maybe two dozen more cars. Why?”

  “And they’re covering both sides of the highway? All four lanes?” Will asked, joining back in. He knew exactly where Danny was going.

  “Yeah,” Luke said, though he sounded unsure now. “Why? What’s going on?”

  Will exchanged a brief look with Danny, riding nearby.

  Luke said, “I can try going around it…”

  “No,” Will said quickly. “I want you to head back to us.”

  “Go back? Why?”

  “I want you to start back toward us, Luke. Now.”

  Will slowed down and stopped, Danny doing the same next to him. Ted, coming up behind them, did likewise.

  “What’s happening?” Kate asked, alarmed.

  “There’s an overturned semi up ahead,” Will said. “We’re too close now, I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “What about Luke?”

  “He’s coming back.”

  “I’ve told that kid over and over not to get too far ahead of us,” Ted grunted.

  “He’s a teenager,” Danny said. “It’s his job to not listen. It’s written in the DNA.”

  They could see Luke coming back in the distance, his red ATV a sudden flash of color in a stretch of very gray road and brown, sunburned grass.

  “What’s the plan?” Danny asked.

  “Let’s see what we’re dealing with first,” Will said.

  “How far to the facility?” Carly asked.

  “At this speed, two more hours, give or take,” Will said. “We have plenty of daylight left, there’s no need to hurry.”

  He glanced down at his watch: 9:11 a.m.

  Plenty of time.

  A loud, cracking noise punctured the quiet.

  He knew instantly what it was and so did Danny, and before the others could react, the two of them had climbed off their ATVs and were unslinging their M4A1s.

  “Gunshot!” Will shouted. “Get behind cover now!”

  The others hurried down and scrambled for cover. Will, crouched next to his vehicl
e, looked up the road and saw Luke’s bright red ATV slowly rolling toward them. It was drifting and the seat was empty. There were no signs of Luke.

  “Oh, God, Luke…” Kate whispered next to him, her voice breathless.

  Will lifted his binoculars and looked down the road. The bright fire-red ATV had gone nose-first into a ditch nearby, one of its back wheels still spinning in the air, its sputtering engine still turning. He looked past the vehicle and saw a figure lying facedown on the asphalt road about 190 meters from their position.

  Luke.

  The kid’s arm was moving noticeably.

  “He’s alive,” Will said.

  He could feel Kate next to him, her entire body a box of boiling energy.

  “We’ll get to him, Kate,” Will said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  She didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure she’d even heard him.

  “Kate,” he said, more forcefully this time.

  She looked at him, indecision, shock, and fear on her face. He had seen that same look in dozens of faces in Afghanistan. War always looked different in person, where it was usually twenty-three hours of boredom followed by one hour of sheer terror.

  “He’s alive,” Will said, “and he’s going to stay that way. But I need you to stay here.”

  Her eyes widened. “No, don’t make me!”

  “Someone has to cover us.”

  She started to argue, but then stopped and nodded, her face still pained. “Go. Hurry.”

  He looked over and met Danny’s eyes. He was crouched behind his ATV with Vera clutching at his waist, her face buried in his back. “How we doing this?” Danny asked.

  “We go out and get him. Kate and Ted cover us.” Will looked at Ted and focused on the big man’s eyes until he was sure Ted was really listening. “Shoot anything that moves. With the exception of us.”

  “I second that last part,” Danny said.

  Ted nodded. He clutched and unclutched his .308 Winchester. The bolt-action rifle had a big $2,000 scope on top, and Ted had proven surprisingly efficient with it.

  “Ted,” Will said, “watch the trees to our right. That’s where the first shot came from. They’ll most likely still be in there. You see a muzzle flash, you shoot back at it and you keep shooting until that muzzle appears somewhere else. Then you follow it and you shoot at that. Understand?”