by Sam Sisavath
“What about you?” Greengrass asked.
“Took a beating, but I’m pretty sure I can run if I have to. As to how far I can keep it up, well, that’s another matter.”
“There’s something else to consider…”
“What’s that?”
“They’re out there.”
“Our captors…”
“No,” Greengrass said. “Them.”
“Them who?” Keo was going to ask, when the answer came to him in a rush, and he thought, The night’s still not safe. They’re still out there. And some of them are still just as dangerous now as they were six years ago.
“What about them?” Keo said.
“They’ll know I’ve been captured by now. It already knows.”
Keo had a feeling he already knew who the it that Greengrass was referring to was, but he had to ask anyway. “‘It?’”
Greengrass grinned back at him through the darkness—not that Keo could actually see it, but he could feel it.
“Do I have to say it?” the Bucky asked.
This time, it was Keo’s turn to keep quiet.
“It’s out there right now, with that horde, looking for you,” Greengrass continued. “Whether we’re still in Cordine City or not, it’ll find you.”
“You’re working with them,” Keo said. “You have been, since all of this began. Since Axton.”
“Yeah…”
“That’s why you didn’t let the sniper kill me back at the office building. That’s why you risked coming up the stairs to get me.”
“It wants you alive,” Greengrass said. “I don’t know why. That’s not my business. I was given an order.” He paused. Then, “It’s nothing personal.”
“Easy for you to say,” Keo said.
Eight
“It wants you alive. I don’t know why. That’s not my business. I was given an order. It’s nothing personal.”
It also won’t be anything personal when I shoot your ass and leave you here to die, Keo thought, but he bit his tongue on that one, too.
Instead, he tried to think about what was happening out there beyond their little concrete prison. He didn’t know how long they had been in here or if there was still light outside. It had been morning when he almost died in the stairwell, and Greengrass didn’t have any better sense of the time. It could have been a day, or two—or more—since the gun battle.
Keo’s head was still swimming from being nearly buried in rubble, but he didn’t think there was any permanent damage. (Of course, if there were, he wouldn’t exactly know it, probably.) He had regained enough strength to stand up and walk around the room, and it was just as small and cramped and hard against his socked feet as it had been when he was sitting and trying not to move.
He found the door to his right—Greengrass’s left. It was a rectangular metal plate. Thick, too, from the dull thud that responded when he banged on it a couple of times with his fists. There was a lever, but it wouldn’t budge in any direction. There was no lock, which further convinced him he was inside a holding cell of some type. Maybe it had even been a closet or storage room at one point, but it wasn’t those things anymore.
Greengrass hasn’t said very much since telling Keo that hunting him down and trying to capture him alive for a blue-eyed ghoul was “nothing personal.” Keo hadn’t bothered to argue the point, mostly because Greengrass sounded like he was about to either fall asleep or lose consciousness.
Keo let the man rest while he explored their cell. It took only ten minutes for him to walk around the room four times. There wasn’t any other way in or out except the lone door, and pushing against it hadn’t done anything but given him a sore shoulder. He was able to move easier than he had expected, and while there was still pain, it wasn’t the same throbbing aches like when he first woke up. And he could walk well enough to feel better about his situation, something that Greengrass couldn’t claim.
“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.”
Guy’s got more broken bones than a dog with a big backyard.
So how much help would Greengrass really be when Keo needed him? Or Pressley, for that matter? Ms. Do It still hadn’t woken up from her nap, and Keo was beginning to think she never would. Then again, giving his captors three targets to shoot at was better than giving them just one—namely him.
We’ll see, I guess. We’ll see.
He didn’t like what Greengrass had said about it being out there, somewhere, still looking for him. Just thinking about that made Keo shiver, and he was glad it was too dark for Greengrass to see even if he were awake, which Keo wasn’t convinced of.
When Keo glanced in his direction to check that theory, he found the Bucky in the same spot as the last time he’d looked. The older man’s eyes were closed and might have been for some time, but Keo only noticed now.
He walked over to the Buckies and crouched in front of Pressley.
He had to admit, she wasn’t bad looking, and although he had always favored blondes more, he’d always found gingers to be a close second. (The fact that she had encouraged Williams to “do” him in notwithstanding.) She hadn’t moved from the prone position they had left her in—on her stomach, resting on one cheek. Up close, he could make out the dry trails of blood along her temple. There was another bandage around her left thigh, and this one seemed to be bleeding, with a small pool of blood around the area. There was another bandage around her left arm, but it looked to be in better condition. Pressley was very much still alive and her breathing was constant, if a bit weak.
Keo scooted over to Greengrass.
The man was a lot older than Keo had thought at first—maybe mid-forties—and he had more grays in his hair than brown. Crow’s feet jutted out of the corners of both eyes, and he had a sharp nose—
Greengrass opened his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
Keo smiled. “Just making sure you’re still alive.”
“Are you sure now?”
“Pretty sure.”
“So get the hell away from me.”
Keo got up and walked back to the door. “You always this groggy after a nap?”
“Is that what you call almost dying? A nap?”
“Almost dirt nap?”
“Buck was right. I don’t know whether to buy you a beer or choke you to death with my bare hands.”
“Grumpy it is.” Keo nodded at the door. “I found it, by the way. We’re definitely in a prison cell of some type. You can only open or lock it from the other side.”
“How long was I out?” Greengrass asked. He rubbed at his face with his right hand. His entire left arm, Keo noticed, had never moved once.
“Twenty minutes, tops.”
“Feels longer.”
“It’s the room. The ambience.”
“Ambience?”
“Atmosphere? Either/or.”
“Anything happen while I was out because of the…ambience?”
“What’s the matter, Greengrass, you afraid I’ll fondle you in your sleep?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you. So did something happen or not?”
“Don’t get your panties into a bunch. Nothing happened.”
The Bucky glanced over at Pressley. “Did she wake?”
“No, and I’m not sure she’s going to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. But we should probably assume that and not count on her helping us getting out of here.”
“So we’re still doing that,” Greengrass said. It didn’t sound like a question.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind. Have you?”
“Just wanted to make sure.”
“You sure now?”
“Touché.”
“Point is, whether she wakes up or not, there’s a good chance it’ll be up to you and me to get us out of here.”
“We’re not leaving without her.”
/>
“I never said we would.”
“Just so we’re clear on that one, too.”
“Clear as day,” Keo was going to say, but before he could get the words out, the door next to him began moving.
“What—” Greengrass said.
“Company,” Keo said, and he walked quickly back to his spot and sat down on the floor. It didn’t take very long because of how small the room was. He made sure to fold his legs in front of him and draped his arms over his knees in case he needed to get back up in a hurry.
Just in case…
Both he and Greengrass kept quiet as someone swung the heavy door open from the other side. At the same time, yellow halogen lights flooded the ten-by-ten space from nowhere.
No, not lights, but light. There was just one, on the wall above the door. Keo hadn’t seen it in the darkness, and it was too high for him to touch while he was groping his way around the cell earlier. But it had lit up as the door opened, either triggered automatically or from a switch.
Now that he could finally see (Let there be light!), Keo got his first real good look at Greengrass and Pressley next to him.
Greengrass looked even more beat up than Keo was expecting. The man grimaced, a heavily lined face as his eyes tried to adjust to the sudden brightness. Pressley, on the floor next to him, stayed where she was and actually looked more peaceful in the light.
Keo turned to take in the opening door just as two figures standing in the widening doorframe came into view. Both men, wearing civilian clothes. They were in their twenties, with nothing even resembling a welcoming look on their faces. The tall and skinny one had come unarmed, while the shorter but just as skinny one held a pump-action shotgun in front of him.
“Move and you die,” Tall and Skinny said.
As if they had rehearsed it, Short and Skinny racked his shotgun and aimed it at Keo, then swung it over to Greengrass. Then, for good measure, at the unconscious Pressley.
“I don’t think she’s going to be much of a threat,” Keo said.
“You never know,” Tall and Skinny said.
The taller of the two stepped inside and grabbed Pressley by the arms and began dragging her across the floor over to the door.
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?” Greengrass shouted and tried to get up.
He tried, anyway, but didn’t get very far. Keo thought he would have fallen right back down from his injuries by the way his face contorted as he attempted to get up, if Short and Skinny didn’t step into the room and strike Greengrass in the back with the buttstock of his shotgun first.
Greengrass grunted as he fell back down to the cold floor.
Short and Skinny whirled around and fixed Keo with a hard look, as if daring him to do something.
Keo shrugged back at him. “I don’t know them. Do what you want.” Then, when the man narrowed his eyes questioningly back at him, “Tell your boss that I don’t know these guys. Whatever grudges you have against them, I’m not a part of it.”
The man with the shotgun didn’t respond and instead backed up as his partner continued dragging the still-unconscious Pressley over to the door. Tall and Skinny wasn’t very gentle, and Pressley left behind jagged blood smears from one side of the cell to the other.
That would probably hurt if Pressley could actually feel anything, Keo thought, but he still winced at the sight.
Short and Skinny turned and followed his partner through the door, and Keo watched the heavy slab of metal swing back around, sliding into place with a loud bang!
Keo glanced over at Greengrass. The Bucky was picking himself up from the floor when the lone lightbulb disappeared, and Keo couldn’t see much of anything again.
“You okay?” Keo asked.
Greengrass sighed. “At least the fucker didn’t hit me in the arm.”
“Captain Optimism,” Keo chuckled.
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe after we get out of here, and only if you play your cards right.”
Greengrass’s shadowy outline leaned against the wall, and his head turned toward the door. “Why did they take Pressley?”
“I don’t know, but they went straight to her. You saw that, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“That’s the question. Feel free to ask them when they come back. I’m sure they’ll be all eager-like to answer.”
“I will.” Greengrass went silent for a moment. Then, with just a trace of barely contained anger, “What was that shit about?”
“What was what shit about?”
“What you said. About not being one of us, that they can do whatever they want with me and Pressley because you don’t care.”
Keo shrugged. “Hey, I’m just trying to increase my chances of getting out of here with my limbs still intact. If that means selling you out to do it, then so be it.” He smiled. “It’s nothing personal.”
Greengrass grunted, but kept silent.
Nine
He should have gotten a better look at what was outside the door when he had the chance, but he hadn’t been smart enough to do so. Of course, he blamed it on everything happening inside the room—Pressley being dragged out like she was a piece of meat, Greengrass being introduced to the buttstock of a shotgun—demanding his attention, but it was really just an excuse. By the time he realized he needed to gather intelligence, the lone light in the cell had gone out and there was just darkness again.
Excuses, excuses.
He spent the next hour or two (he wasn’t really sure which, maybe somewhere in-between) waiting for something else to happen. He’d gotten his legs underneath him again and stood next to the door trying to hear something happening outside the room, but the walls were just too thick. For all he knew, they could be underground somewhere like Greengrass had suggested or even in the back of a grocery store.
Probably not the back of a grocery store.
Greengrass hadn’t said a word since they took Pressley, and as far as Keo could tell—without sitting in front of him and making absolutely sure—the Bucky might have gone back to sleep. Or fallen unconscious.
Either/or, because one was the same as the other.
Keo didn’t mind the quiet too much, though. He liked being alone with his thoughts anyway, and given how weakly Greengrass had protested when the Skinny Brothers dragged Pressley out of the room, he had begun to rethink the Bucky’s value.
“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.”
Two broken bones were nothing to sneeze at. Hell, one was bad enough, and Greengrass was dealing with two.
I have a feeling getting out of here’s going to come down more to me than us.
He was still thinking about that when the door began to move again.
Keo hurried back to his spot and sat down, and closed his eyes just before the halogen lamp switched on and once again bathed the room in a yellowish light. When Keo opened his eyes, he immediately turned his head toward the door and at the two familiar skinny figures as they looked in—and right at him. They were ignoring Greengrass completely, not that the Bucky noticed because he hadn’t woken up despite the light. His head was lolled slightly to one side—a hair’s breadth from toppling sideways and into the spot where Pressley had been an hour (two?) ago.
Unlike the last time, the men had shown up both fully armed—Tall and Skinny cradled an AR rifle in front of his elongated frame while his partner wielded the same pump-action shotgun he’d used on Greengrass earlier.
And they were definitely looking straight at him. There was no mistaking that. Just as they had come for Pressley last time.
I guess it’s my turn.
“Hey, boys, how’s it going?” Keo asked.
The two men exchanged a look before Tall and Skinny beckoned Keo over with his forefinger as if Keo were a puppy.
“I don’t know what that means,” Keo said.
“Get your ass over here,
” Tall and Skinny said. He wasn’t exactly menacing, especially with that rail-thin frame of his, but the rifle did add some gravitas.
“Ah, so that’s what that means.” Keo stood up slowly. “Where we going?”
“Boss wants to see you.”
That worked? Keo thought, but kept the surprise off his face when he asked, “What happened to Pressley? She talking to the boss now?”
The Skinny Brothers didn’t answer him. Instead, they stepped back as Keo approached. It wasn’t that they needed to make room for him, but more that they were giving him plenty of leeway so he couldn’t reach for their weapons. Not that Keo had any intentions of doing something stupid like that. Or, at least, he was pretty sure there was only a forty-sixty chance he wasn’t going to.
Fifty-fifty, if he was being really honest with himself.
Easy does it. No point in getting yourself killed now.
That’s right, because I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities to get yourself killed later.
He glanced back into the room at Greengrass just before he stepped outside. The Bucky was either asleep or unconscious. Keo had entertained the idea that Greengrass was faking it and waiting for the chance to act, but that didn’t appear to be the case. The man really was oblivious to what was happening.
When Keo looked back at his captors, he got his best look at the outside world.
Or, anyway, a long hallway constructed of the same pale gray walls that made up his ten-by-ten prison cell. Halogen bulbs inside protective coverings lined the sides of the ceiling and were good indicators he was being kept inside an old building. Newer construction preferred the brighter and longer-lasting LEDs now.
Only one out of every ten or so lights were currently humming, and the ones that were weren’t giving off that much power. There was enough to see with, if just barely. Keo wondered if it was the same with the bulb inside his cell and that he’d just been sitting in the dark for so long he thought it was a lot brighter than it actually was.