Requiem (After The Purge, Book 1)

by Sam Sisavath

  “Did you find it or not?”

  “I only saw it for a second when they first took everything else, so I wouldn’t recognize it if I saw it again. But there is a lot of jewelry in a box back there. You can look for it yourself later.” She eyed him curiously. “What’s so special about that watch, anyway?”

  “Someone gave it to me. I promised them I’d never lose it.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “I didn’t say it was a her.”

  “I assumed.”

  “You know what happens when you assume.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  They sat quietly and chewed on the flax seed in silence for a moment. With the door open, the smell of evaporated ghoul flesh had begun to dissipate, but it still hung in the air like a permanent marker. The stench should have made him uncomfortable, but Wash was too used to it by now to be too bothered. He wasn’t sure, though, if that was a good or bad thing.

  I’ve been doing this too long. Way too long…

  “Who were they?” he finally asked. “The ones who took your sister?”

  Ana stared across the warehouse intensely as she talked, as if she could look back into the past and relive the moment. “I don’t know all their names, but I know the one who’s leading them. Mathison. He and his friends showed up in Newton about a week before everything happened. I knew they were trouble as soon as I saw them. As soon as I saw him. I wanted them to keep going, leave town, but I was outvoted.”

  “Outvoted?”

  “We do everything in Newton by votes. Majority rules. It’s a regular democracy. The system worked just fine until a bunch of asshats with something a lot of people in town wanted showed up. I got outvoted, and Mathison and his crew were allowed to stay. By the time the others realized I was right, Mathison had already fled with Emily and three other women. They left in the middle of the night and left a lot of blood and tears in their wake.”

  “Were they on horseback?”

  She shook her head. “They showed up on foot and left the same way. We have the stables guarded at night, and I guess they decided not to risk it.”

  “So why were you also on foot out there?”

  “The horses belonged to the town, not me. They couldn’t spare to loan me one to chase Mathison.”

  “Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

  “Does it matter which?”

  “I guess not. At least they’re not moving any faster than you. Who else is chasing them?”

  “You’re looking at her.”

  “Just you? But they took three other people besides your sister.”

  “Yeah, they did.”

  Wash watched her somber face carefully. “Let me guess: You were outvoted.”

  “Yeah,” Ana nodded. “Mathison’s crew killed three people on their way out. Gutted them like fishes. I guess they didn’t want to use their guns and wake everyone up, so they used their knives. It was bloody, and a lot of people in town hadn’t encountered that kind of violence in a long time. It shocked Newton to the core. Even when we hired slayers to deal with ghouls that would wander into our area, the others never had to see it. Their hands were always clean.”

  I’ve heard that story before…

  “So you’re out here all by your little lonesome hunting a band of killers, is that it?” he asked.

  She looked over at him and smiled. “I was.”

  Morning came and went, and Marla never returned. Neither did the missing mountain man. Wash was glad no one showed up, because it meant he could just sit in the same spot and not have to move. But that changed when Ana decided it was time to suture his wounds. He would have argued if he thought it would have done any good. Besides, he knew she was right. Having bandages on was one thing, but he could still feel himself bleeding underneath them.

  Before she went to work, Ana took out a bottle from one of the backpacks she’d stuffed full of supplies and shook out two pills. They were brightly colored and had the letter M stamped on one side and the number 30 on the other.

  “What are those?” Wash asked.

  “Morphine,” Ana said.

  “You know what morphine pills look like?”

  “Don’t you?”

  He shook his head. “Never came up.”

  “You’ll need them for the pain.”

  Again, he didn’t argue, and chased the pills down with some water while Ana got ready. She placed the first-aid kit next to her, along with a needle and scissors on top of a clean rag. The warehouse provided everything she needed. Everything except the answers that neither one of them were sure they really wanted to know.

  “You’ve done this before?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How many times?”

  “More than I’d like.”

  “What exactly did you do before all of this? And don’t give me the office bullshit.”

  “Not this, I can assure you.”

  “So how do you know about pills, sutures, all those neat tricks with small knives?”

  “It’s been six years since the world went to shit, Wash. I had to pick up a few new skills to survive. It was that or sign up to get some stranger’s semen put inside me so I can squeeze out a kid for the ghouls to feed on. No thanks.”

  Wash chuckled. She was talking about being a collaborator during The Purge. Men and women who voluntarily chose to cooperate with the monsters. They were resettled into towns like Harrisonville, where the men gave blood and served the wills of the new overlords while the women allowed themselves to be impregnated by strangers. It was the reason why almost every child he came across these days were five-year-olds.

  The fact that Ana hadn’t been one of those collaborators wasn’t a surprise to him. It was going to take a lot more than just some monsters to make this woman do something she didn’t want to.

  “You know this is going to hurt, right?” Ana was asking.

  He sighed. “I know.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, toward the other side of the warehouse. “The living quarters are back there. There are beds…”

  Wash shook his head. “I’m not lying down on the same bed as those fuckers. Do it here. I’ll be fine.”

  She gave him a doubtful look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Wash said. “But just in case I don’t see you again after this, you can have my horses.”

  It hurt, and he managed not to cry out. At least, he thought he did. By the time she was almost done, he was fighting back tears and hoping she didn’t notice. She probably did, even if Ana didn’t say anything. But she could just have been too busy with the actual bloody work—and trying to keep him alive while she did it—and didn’t have time to enjoy his misery.

  When she was done, Wash lay down on top of a blanket Ana had rolled out earlier and stared up at all the cobwebs that had taken over the rafters. Sunlight pooled along the ceiling, reflecting off the heavy metal siding and the chrome from the vehicles in the back. It was impossibly peaceful beyond the warehouse walls, and for a moment he forgot about the mountain men and all the bags of mystery meat Ana had discovered.

  “You okay?” Ana asked. He heard her voice but couldn’t tell where she was exactly. Nearby? She had to be nearby.

  “Yeah,” Wash said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said again.

  “Try not to move unless you have to. You’re not bleeding, but things like bullet holes don’t magically seal themselves up overnight. We’ll have to stay here for at least another day, maybe longer if you can’t travel by then.”

  He traced her voice to somewhere on his right, and Wash turned his head in that direction. She was sitting on the floor next to him, her hands draped over her bent knees, watching him back. She had been wearing surgical gloves earlier, but Ana had taken them off. There was still some blood along her wrists.

  “The longer I hold you back, the farther Mathison’s getting away,” Wash said. “You should think about taking off.”

  “And just
leave you here?”

  “I’ll catch up when I can.”

  “He’s widening the distance, but I know where he’s going. Sooner or later, we’ll both get there.”

  “Brownsville.”

  She nodded.

  Unless the guys at the cabin lied to you, Wash thought, but he said, “If they’re still on foot, we can make up the lost time on horseback. Unless, of course, they’ve picked up horsepower themselves since you found their last campsite.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’ll catch up to them eventually. When that happens, I’ll need you by my side.”

  “You mean my trigger finger.”

  “That, too.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll be there. If I don’t die tonight, I mean.”

  “You’re not going to die, Washateria. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  He tossed her an annoyed glare. “Seriously? Still with that?”

  “Admit it, you like it.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “Thank God you’re here to tell me what I know and don’t know. I didn’t realize I’ve been missing that all my life.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “I don’t think you were doing it correctly. Otherwise I would have gotten it.”

  Wash groaned and closed his eyes. “Tell me about your sister.”

  “Why?”

  “It’ll help pass the time. And I’d like to get to know her if I’m going to be risking my life to save her.”

  “I don’t know where to start…”

  “Start anywhere. How old is she? What does she look like? What’s her favorite color? Is she as pretty as you?”

  He couldn’t see her, but he imagined Ana smiling when she said, “So you admit it. You think I’m pretty.”

  “Don’t let it get to your head. I’m delirious with pain and meds. I’m pretty sure I think unicorns are real, too. Now, tell me about Emily before I fall asleep.”

  He heard her taking a deep breath before finally speaking.

  “She’s nineteen. She was just a kid when The Purge happened…”

  Eleven

  Wash slept and woke up throughout the day, but the meds kept him from staying awake for very long. He was fine with that and willingly allowed the sweet, sweet bliss of sleep to draw him back into its embrace each time.

  Ana came and went, including dragging the bones and dead bodies out of the warehouse. When she was done with that, she returned for a shovel and spent another two hours or so outside digging graves in the woods. Later, she took the horses out in pairs to let them graze on the grass.

  Wash considered getting up and going through all the supplies that the mountain men had left behind to see if he could find anything of value, but each time the idea came up, his body rebelled. Instead, he spent his time staring at the spiders spinning cobwebs along the rafters, before eventually falling asleep again.

  The supplies Ana had laid on the floor next to him had doubled in size when he next opened his eyes. Then it was triple. Ana was still going through the warehouse room by room, bringing out what they would need and leaving what they didn’t. His things, including the Mossberg 590A1 tactical shotgun, were among the pile, along with his pack.

  “Fuel?” he remembered asking her during one of his brief awake interludes.

  She had shaken her head. “I don’t think they’ve used those vehicles for a while now. Every gas tank is empty and has been for some time.”

  “Too bad.”

  “Yeah, too bad.”

  He thought about asking her if she’d discovered any new hints as to what the mountain men had been doing to their prisoners, but never followed through with it. He decided he didn’t just not want to know, but that it didn’t matter anymore. The men were dead, and along with them, their evil deeds.

  Then he slept again.

  When he next opened his eyes, feeling as alive as he had in quite some time, Ana was sitting next to him Indian style with his kukri machete in her hands.

  “What time?” he asked.

  “Half an hour before nightfall.”

  “Already?”

  “For you. For me, it’s been a slow day.”

  Wash guessed that explained the darkening rafters. The light bulbs hadn’t been turned on yet, and Ana had told him earlier about the solar panels on the roof and in a big field behind the building, which was how the mountain men got their electricity. Which still didn’t explain where they kept their fridge, because Wash knew they had one. How else would they store their…goods?

  “What is this thing?” Ana was asking as she took a few practice swings with the kukri.

  “It’s a machete.”

  “I can see that. But what’s it called? I’ve never seen something like this before.”

  “It’s called a kukri.”

  “Sounds Japanese.”

  “Nepalese.”

  “From Nepal?”

  “That’s usually where you find Nepalese stuff, yeah.”

  “Asshat.” She held the blade in her palm and weighed it. “It’s got nice balance. No wonder you like using it. It feels like a knife but has the reach of a short sword. The best of both worlds. Is the blade…?”

  “It’s got silver in it.”

  “Of course it does. Where did you get something like this? Somehow I have a hard time envisioning you traveling to Nepal for one.”

  “Why? You want one?”

  “I wouldn’t say no, if you’re offering.”

  “If I have time, I’ll make you one.”

  “You know how?”

  “The same person who made that one for me taught me how. Kukris aren’t supposed to be that long.”

  “Did he make it himself?”

  “What makes you think it was a he?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Girls don’t run around making machetes, Wash.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, he did. He was good with his hands. He’s the one who taught me how to shoot, too.”

  “‘Was?’”

  “He’s dead.”

  She put the kukri down. “I’m sorry.”

  “It happens.”

  Ana didn’t say anything for a while and seemed content to sit there staring at him. She had tied her hair back in a ponytail again, which was disappointing. He remembered the sight of her red hair fanning around her face and decided that he missed the look.

  “What?” he said. “I’m pretty, but I’m not that pretty.”

  She smiled. “Touché.”

  “So what is it?”

  “I think you’re going to need another day, Wash.”

  “I’m feeling better. I’m feeling a lot better, actually.”

  She shook her head. “But you’re not. Physically, anyway. And I’m going to need you at your best—or damn close—before we go back out there again. Mathison and his people aren’t going to give Emily back to me without a fight. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  “It’s going to get bloody…”

  “I know that, too.” He reached over and took her hand and squeezed, and was rewarded with an amusingly surprised look on her face. “We’ll get her back. I promise.”

  “Thank you,” Ana said, almost hesitantly. He really had caught her by surprise, which was something Wash didn’t think was possible.

  He pulled his hand back to spare both of them the awkwardness. “You never told me how many men Mathison has with him.”

  “Ten.”

  “Ten?”

  “Does that make a difference?”

  “I was hoping for…less.”

  “That’s not counting Mathison.”

  “So, eleven total.”

  “Uh huh. Are you having second thoughts now?”

  “More like third or fourth thoughts,” Wash said.

  He slept peacefully, either because of the meds or the fatigue of the last few days catching up to him, but by the
time he woke up to morning sunlight the following day, Wash felt like he could take on the world again. As long as the world didn’t come at him with four-by-fours swinging at his midsection, anyway.

  He pushed up from the blanket he’d been lying on for the last two days to find Ana sound asleep on something that almost looked like a futon next to him. She lay on her side facing him, her arms protectively across her chest. The duvet she had been using was bunched around her knees, and Wash picked it up and placed it back over her. She shifted in her sleep, turning over onto her back, but didn’t wake up.

  Wash stood up and fought the instinct to stretch. That wouldn’t have done his stitched side any good. It was healing, and he could feel the relief coming from down there, but that didn’t stop him from taking two more painkillers anyway. (Just in case…) That left six more pills in the sheet, which wasn’t too alarming since the mountain men had plenty more stocked up. He had a feeling he was going to be finding out if the rest were as good as the ones he’d been taking soon enough.

  He took a moment to pick up his gun belt and slipped it on, then dropped the Beretta into the holster on his right hip and the kukri into its sheath on his left. He left the 1911 semiautomatic on the floor and walked to the stable, where he opened it and took out two of the horses—the orange-brown Quarter Horse and the Tennessee Walker—and led them outside for their morning breakfast. His stomach growled, but he pushed it off until he could raid the mountain men’s pantry himself. There had to be more than just nuts in there. He would kill for some MREs right about now.

  Once outside, Wash didn’t have to go too far to see where Ana had dug the graves for the warehouse’s former occupiers and the leftover ghoul bones. He walked the horses to a nice patch of green and tied them to a branch to let the animals eat. Wash stood nearby and enjoyed the simple act of standing on his two feet without feeling woozy or having the urge to sit down to rest. Even the cold morning barely had any effect on him. It was either the pills or the healthy dose of sleep. Or likely both.

  The warehouse looked much bigger on the outside, its steel exterior giving it an almost impregnable aura. Besides the door and the big garage entrance next to it, there were just the high windows at the top. It didn’t look welcoming at all—a big gray building in the middle of nowhere—and maybe that was the point.