Rooster (Road To Babylon, Book 3)

by Sam Sisavath

  “And Keo’s any better?” the man who called himself Greengrass said. “How do you spell that, anyway?”

  “Buck didn’t tell you?”

  “It didn’t seem important at the time.”

  “K as in kiss my ass, e as in eat me, and o as in oh no, she didn’t.”

  Greengrass smirked again, and Keo was pretty sure of it that time. Either his night eyes had adapted to his surroundings—a ten-by-ten room built out of, from the feel of it against his back and butt, blocks of concrete. It might have been some kind of storage room, except there hadn’t been anything inside when Keo woke up about ten minutes ago.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Greengrass was there, along with a woman lying on the floor next to him. They were clearly together, but whereas Greengrass was fully awake, the woman hadn’t moved an inch since Keo opened his eyes. There weren’t any lights in the room—they were sitting in complete darkness—and Keo only knew the third person was a woman because of her pale white skin and red hair, which made her stand out. A dull white bandage was wrapped around her head, and she might have had more bandages on the rest of her, but he couldn’t see well enough to be absolutely sure.

  Fading soot and gunpowder lingered in the air, coming from his own clothes as well as his roommates’. He was pretty sure there were other things emanating from his body at the moment, considering the explosion that had sent him flying into the wall like a human cannonball. The aches caused by moving even a little bit, regardless of which part of him did the moving, were proof of that. If he could peel off the layers of thick clothing, he would expect to find stretches of black and purple bruises from his legs up to his waist and beyond. The first time he lifted his hands to his face, he flinched when he touched his left cheek, and there were a couple of big welts along his forehead and temple.

  All of that was the reason why he hadn’t moved very much since picking himself up from the floor where he had been lying inelegantly on one cheek, just like the woman was doing right now.

  It was cold in the room, and that had the inadvertent benefit of numbing some of the pain. Not all of it—it wasn’t even close to being all of it—but enough that he didn’t feel like he was going to die from sheer misery. And it was plenty miserable. Jackhammers-constantly-pounding-away-at-his-body miserable.

  His fellow prisoners were wearing black from head to toe, which made it difficult to pick them out. Someone had taken their assault vests, but it wasn’t difficult for Keo to piece together the clues to their identities. The man also had pale white strips around both arms and one leg. More bandages. Which meant he and the woman hadn’t escaped the office building unscathed, either.

  “He did say you were a character,” Greengrass was saying from somewhere across the small room.

  “‘He?’” Keo said.

  “Buck.”

  “Buck you right back.”

  Greengrass grunted. “Does that ever get tiring?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Being so clever all the time.”

  Sometimes, Keo thought, but he said instead, while injecting just the right amount of smartassness, “Never.”

  “He also told me to be wary of you.”

  “Is that why you kept quiet back in the stairwell?”

  “That was one reason.”

  “What were the others?”

  “You were probing, digging for information. I wasn’t about to give you any.”

  “I was just trying to be friendly.”

  “Is that right? You always try to be friendly with people hunting you?”

  “See, I didn’t know you were hunting me. I thought you guys were just looking to share a room. It was a pseudo interview.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re so believable.”

  Keo smiled. He had to admit, Greengrass was growing on him. Not that Keo wouldn’t shoot the man in the head right here, right now if he had a gun. Heck, he’d settle for a knife to plunge it right through that barely visible forehead of his.

  Whoever had tossed him, Greengrass, and the woman into the room had taken everything they had except the clothes they had on. Someone had even snatched the pack of gum Keo had kept in his back pocket for a rainy day. It was strawberry-flavored. The one bright spot? They had left his socks, which was the only reason Keo wasn’t freezing to death.

  “What’s her name?” Keo asked.

  “You don’t need to know that,” Greengrass said.

  “Don’t be rude. Besides, you told me yours. What’s one more name between friends?”

  “Is that what we are now? Friends?”

  “I figured.”

  “And how’d you figure that?”

  “Look around you…”

  “I have…”

  “What do you see?”

  “Jack shit.”

  “That’s not true. You see me. Well, mostly.”

  “You?”

  “Yeah, me.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m sitting here, and your friend may or may not wake up. It’s way too dark in here to see what kind of shape she’s in, but I’m guessing not so great. That leaves just you and me.”

  Greengrass kept quiet, so Keo continued:

  “This is the point in time when the two bitter enemies put aside their animosities and team up to fight a common foe. It’s called cooperation, pal.”

  The other man remained silent. Keo had no clue if he was thinking about what Keo had said or if he was just being overly dramatic.

  Keo decided to use the silence to shift slightly and flex his arms and legs to get the blood flowing. Every slight movement still sent jolts of pain through his body, but he didn’t want to be caught sitting flatfooted if someone were to burst in on them at any second. Not that he could tell from which direction they would do that exactly, since he couldn’t even locate the door in all the darkness. He’d have to get up and feel around the walls, but that was for later, when his muscles didn’t make him clench his teeth every time he moved any one of his limbs.

  At least there are no broken bones. God, I hope there are no broken bones.

  It didn’t feel like anything was broken. He could breathe okay, could see the clouds forming in front of his face with every breath he took. And his arms and legs might have throbbed whenever he moved or rubbed them, but at least they were all intact.

  Nothing like legs and arms where they’re supposed to be.

  That’s right, think of the bright side. Which is…you’re still alive.

  Now that’s a good bright side!

  Greengrass still hadn’t spoken. He also hadn’t moved even a little bit, which made Keo wonder just how badly hurt the other man was. Keo had aches and bruises everywhere, including on his aches and bruises, but what was Greengrass’s condition? And how was it going to affect this nascent partnership of theirs?

  “Who are they?” Keo asked.

  “Who?” Greengrass finally said.

  “Who do you think I’m talking about, Mr. ‘I’m So Important I Get To Use My Surname When Everyone’s Still Using Their First Names Only?’ Our captors, that’s who. Did you find out their identities?”

  Greengrass turned his head slightly, as if he were afraid of being spied on. Then, looking back in Keo’s direction, “I don’t have any idea.”

  “They attacked you first. Killed your sniper”—Mr. Smiley Face—“James.”

  If there were lights in the room, Keo thought he would have seen Greengrass squinting back at him with a How do you know? on his face.

  “I’m an idiot, but I’m not a total idiot,” Keo said. “I can put two and two together like any other bozo with half a brain. They took out the shooter and strung him up to lure you outside. Except you didn’t bite and stayed in the lobby. They were forced to assault you, but you repelled them. You were doing pretty good for a while there, but eventually they broke through. And here we are.”

  “A
nd here we are,” Greengrass said. “Which is where, exactly?”

  “You tell me. You were awake long before I was.”

  “Not too long before. About an hour.”

  Keo looked around him, not that he could see much beyond dull gray walls. “Looks like a closet. Or storage room.” He glanced back at Greengrass. “What do you think?”

  The man shook his head. “I was unconscious when they brought us here. This place… We could be anywhere. Maybe even underground.”

  “Underground?”

  “Some kind of bomb shelter. Or panic room. It could be anything.”

  “But it was definitely the ones that attacked the building?”

  “Yeah. They overran the lobby. Aaron, Janks, and Williams died during the assault. Pressley”—his head turned toward the woman—“and I were the only ones left at the end. I was out of bullets and fighting hand-to-hand when they overwhelmed us. Pretty sure we were both dead, too, but…” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know why they kept us alive.”

  “Why did they attack you in the first place?”

  “We were sure there were people in the city when we entered, but I assumed they’d stay out of the way while we hunted you down. I guess I was wrong.”

  I guess you were. Lucky for me.

  Or is it?

  The truth was, he couldn’t be sure of anything right now. Not where he was or who had put him here. He wasn’t even certain about the man he was talking to or this little partnership he was trying to hash out.

  Or maybe I should call it a “Let’s not kill each other until we’re both out of here” temporary team-up.

  Yeah, sounds about right.

  While Greengrass talked, Keo had been keeping track of the names. He’d mentioned someone named Aaron, Janks, and Williams.

  Three Buckies go to town…

  Then there was James.

  A fourth decided to tag along…

  Pressley and Greengrass himself made—

  Six bozos that decided to track little ol’ me instead.

  But that wasn’t all of them. There were also the two in the staircase that Keo had killed. What were their names again? Oh, right.

  And John and Pete make eight dead weights.

  Buck had sent eight men after him, and they had followed him all the way to Cordine City from Axton. They weren’t chumps, either; nothing like the Buckies he had dealt with on his way to Fenton, or the ones he faced alongside Gaby.

  No, Greengrass was a pro. Maybe he’d even been one before all of this, but he was definitely one now. Keo didn’t know about Pressley, but he did remember hearing a woman telling someone to “Do it” outside the stairwell door. “It” had turned out to be firing a grenade round into the confined room.

  Keo had a lot of questions for Greengrass, but most of the pressing ones would have stalled this—whatever “this” was—thing they had going on. Right now, Greengrass was voluntarily talking because he had (smartly) decided escaping their prison would require both of them. Unless, of course, Pressley woke up soon, but she had shown no interest in doing that in the thirty or so minutes since Keo had been awake. Even if she did finally gain consciousness, three people gave them better odds than two. Or, at least, Keo hoped Greengrass saw it the same way.

  “So you don’t have a clue who they are?” Keo asked.

  “No,” Greengrass said. “You?”

  “How would I know? I’ve spent the last two days running from your little posse. Was starting to feel like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, but obviously prettier and less Caucasian.”

  Greengrass chuckled.

  “What?” Keo said.

  “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s my favorite Western. Favorite movie, actually.”

  “Glad to hear it. I didn’t particularly care for it myself.”

  “Come again?”

  “Only if you buy me dinner first.”

  “What?”

  Keo grinned, even though Greengrass probably couldn’t see it. “I was never really into Westerns. Too many hats. And boots. And cows.”

  “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is a classic.”

  “So is the McRib sandwich, but I’m not a fan of that, either.”

  “There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”

  “Fine dining aside, what did you see out there?”

  “When?”

  “During the gunfight.”

  Greengrass didn’t answer right away, but this time Keo was certain he was seriously considering the question.

  Finally, the man said, “They dressed like civilians. I didn’t see anything that looked like a uniform. But they didn’t exactly fight like civilians.”

  “How so?”

  “They tried coming in through the back door, and when that didn’t work, they tried the sides. Each time, we pushed them back. But they had a plan. All their early attempts were just sorties to see how we’d respond so they could adjust. By the time I realized that, they were all over us.”

  “And you’ve never been to Cordine City before? You or anyone else from Fenton?”

  “No. It’s never been on our radar.” He seemed to hesitate before continuing. “We try to avoid the cities. They’re too big, too hard to take even with the technicals. A city the size of Cordine would have taken too much effort and manpower.”

  Easier to take the small towns like Winding Creek and slaughter everyone inside, Keo thought, but decided that little fact probably wasn’t going to help him get any closer to escaping or pulling more information out of Greengrass.

  He said instead, “How many men did they have?”

  “It looked like over fifty, but I couldn’t see all of them. There was probably more. A lot more.”

  “Fifty-plus fighters.”

  “Probably more.”

  “That’s a lot.”

  Keo thought about what he’d seen from the fifth floor of the office building during the battle. Heads popping up and down behind windows, figures in the streets… At least three dozen, but he was badly limited by his angle and desire to stay hidden.

  “Yeah.” Greengrass nodded. “When they finally pulled the trigger and took the lobby, there were a lot of them. Too many to fend off.”

  “And no one said anything to you?”

  “They might have, but I was too busy being clubbed in the head to hear what they were saying. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What did you see and hear back there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Someone fired a grenade into the stairwell, and I was too busy running away from it.”

  “Williams.”

  “Was that his name?”

  “Yeah.”

  Keo wondered if Greengrass knew about John and Pete, the two Buckies he’d killed in the stairwell. The man hadn’t said anything about them—hadn’t even mentioned their names—but for all Keo knew, Greengrass was staring daggers at him right now and thinking of ways to roast him alive.

  “Has anyone come in here?” Keo asked.

  “Not since I woke up,” Greengrass said. “Did they take your watch?”

  Keo looked down at his empty wrist. “Yeah. They took everything I had on me. Including a pack of gum.”

  “Gum?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Poor you.”

  “I know. I’m pretty broken up about it, too.”

  Something that sounded like a grunt came from Greengrass. “You were a hard man to track. We lost you multiple times after Axton. Did you know we were on your tail before Cordine City? You had to have known,” Greengrass added before Keo could answer. “You were taking precautions.”

  “Apparently they weren’t good enough precautions, because you still kept finding me.”

  “Janks was a tracker. He was ex-Army.”

  “Like you?”

  “What makes you think I’m ex-Army?”
<
br />   “I’ve been around enough Army assholes to know when I’m sitting across from one.”

  Greengrass chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Take it however you like. Is Buck ex-Army, too?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “So how did someone who used to be ex-Army end up taking orders from a civvie?”

  “Buck is very capable. That’s all you need to know.”

  I’m going to need to know a lot more than that if I’m going to put a bullet between his eyes, Keo thought, but again didn’t think that was going to help this little burgeoning team-up with Greengrass, so kept it to himself.

  He said instead, “How is she?”

  “She’s hurt,” Greengrass said. “We both are.”

  “How bad?”

  “I took a bullet in my right leg; it shattered my fibula. My left arm is broken somewhere between the shoulder and elbow. I think it’s the humerus bone. I have a cut in my left arm from a knife, but that’s barely worth mentioning. They were nice enough to stop the bleeding and wrap me up.”

  “That’s mighty generous of them.”

  “I guess I wouldn’t have been very good to them for intel purposes if they let me bleed to death. I’m guessing that’s the only reason we’re still alive. They’re going to interrogate us, find out what we’re doing in Cordine City.”

  “You think they’re locals.”

  “Has to be.”

  “What about Pressley? She gonna live?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t want to turn her over to get a better look at her wounds. But she hasn’t woken up since they put us in here, and her breathing’s weak. Steady, but weak.”

  Hunh. Maybe I’m better off by myself.

  But even as he thought that, Keo knew it wasn’t true. Greengrass might have been a walking dead man, but he was still capable of (slowly) walking, and that might come in handy. What was that old saying about only needing to be able to run faster than the other guy to outrun a bear?

  He was hurt, but he wasn’t physically limited like Greengrass. Aches and bruises would heal, but it was going to take more than time to mend a busted fibula and a cracked humerus bone. So if he had to go mano a mano with the Bucky, it was going to be an easy win. It also wouldn’t exactly be a fair fight, but Keo wouldn’t lodge a complaint if it came to that.