Rooster (Road To Babylon, Book 3)

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Rooster (Road To Babylon, Book 3) Page 12

by Sam Sisavath


  She had stopped suddenly and was aiming her weapon at two figures (Civilian clothes. Armed. Cordine City locals.) trying desperately to close a heavy metal door. The two had no idea Pressley was there as they drove their entire bodies into the door, their boots fighting for leverage against the floor underneath them.

  The gunfire Keo had heard earlier was coming from the other side of that door, and it hadn’t lessened for even a little bit. If anything, the pop-pop-pops seemed to be gaining in intensity with every second, getting louder as the fight drew closer to them.

  Then Keo saw why the two Cordine City people were having so much trouble closing the door. He glimpsed bodies on the other side pushing back, even as an emaciated hand slid through the gap between the large slab of metal and the frame in the wall. First the hand, then the arm, followed by a face covered in dark flesh, hollowed black eyes peering inside at Keo.

  Ghouls. A lot of them.

  Greengrass’s words came back to him in a rush:

  “It’s out there right now, with that horde, looking for you. Whether we’re still in Cordine City or not, it’ll find you.”

  Well, Greengrass ol’ pal, looks like it’s found me! Keo thought even as he rushed forward. He wasn’t sure when he’d made the decision—or if there was a decision to be made. He acted on instinct because other people (even ones with guns) were preferable to ghouls.

  One of the frantic figures trying to close the door heard him coming and glanced over. The look of shock on his face said it all, but it was quickly replaced by fear as he swatted and punched at the black hands (hands!) reaching through the slit in the door. Obsidian flesh squirmed on the other side, so many that Keo couldn’t tell where the night began and they ended.

  The second Cordine City man wasn’t a man at all. She was a girl, her face drenched in sheets of sweat and what might have been blood, and she was straining so hard against the door that her boots were slipping against the floor. Keo knew from experience that the black-eyed ghouls had little strength, but that didn’t matter when there were literally hundreds (thousands?) of them pushing all at the same time.

  “Help us!” the man (boy?) shouted.

  What the hell do you think I’m doing? Keo thought even as he slung the shotgun and threw himself into the door next to the man.

  Keo gritted his teeth, sucked in a deep breath, and shouted, “Push!”

  “We’re pushing!” the man shouted back.

  “Push harder!”

  “There’s too many of them!” the girl shouted.

  “Keep pushing!”

  But they were trying to keep the ocean at bay and losing. Losing bad. Keo’s newly acquired boots couldn’t find purchase against the floor, and they were going backward instead of forward.

  This isn’t going to work. This isn’t going to work!

  Then a body appeared next to him.

  Pressley!

  Keo glanced over and caught her eyes as she embedded herself between the man and the girl. Her face was a mask of pain and sweat as she clenched her teeth and shouted, “Push! Push, goddammit!”

  They did. They pushed together, and slowly, very slowly, they began moving forward instead of backward.

  “Push!” Keo shouted. “Push harder!”

  The door began to close.

  An inch, then another, then another…

  “Push!” someone shouted. Keo wasn’t sure who it was. It might have even been him or the man or Pressley or the girl—

  Bam! as the door slammed home, and the boy grabbed the lever and yanked it down, and there was the very satisfying sound of gears within the door moving and the locks clanking into place one by one by one.

  Fifteen

  “Oh God, oh God, look out!”

  The voice came from the girl as she stumbled back, even as the boy with her struggled to unsling his rifle.

  “Look out?” Keo thought. Look out for what?

  He found out “what” when he glanced down and saw a severed hand on the floor—a hand!—reaching for one of his boots.

  Keo jumped back, shouting, “Holy crap! Shoot it! Shoot it!”

  But he should have been shouting “shoot them” because there were two of them. Hands, both clipped at the elbows, moving around on the floor, their fingers like spider legs carrying them frantically around Keo’s and the others’ feet.

  “Do it, do it!” Keo shouted just before bullets punched into the concrete and spit chunks big and small at his pant legs. More than a few pelted his waist and chest, but he was too busy backing away to notice even as the boy continued to spray the area on full-auto.

  The teenager didn’t stop shooting until both limbs had ceased moving entirely, thick viscous blood leaking out of them in small puddles. A pair of fingers, shot off at the joints, had ricocheted further down the hallway where they lay still.

  Keo kicked at the same hand that had been reaching for him earlier, and it flew through the air, blood leaking out of the wrist spraying the wall with dark liquid as it went.

  “Shit,” Pressley, standing next to him, said. “Did we get them all?”

  “I think so,” Keo said. “There was only two, right?”

  “I don’t know. If you say so…”

  “I got them all,” the boy said.

  “Are you sure?” the girl asked, before turning around to look behind her. “Are you sure, Brett?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure, I’m sure,” the boy said. He was out of breath as he ejected his rifle’s magazine and snapped in a new one. Then, “I think?”

  “I think you did,” Keo said.

  “Yeah, you did,” Pressley said, when the distant pop-pop-pop of automatic rifle fire made her look back at the door.

  No, not “distant,” just faint because of the closed door. The entrance was a thick blast door, and although it wasn’t completely soundproofed, it did a lot to dampen the noises coming from outside. The battle that was raging out there right now, except unlike earlier at the office building, this wasn’t human against human. This was human against inhuman.

  They stood silently in the hallway and listened, no one saying a word. The only sounds came from the girl’s slightly labored breathing and the continuous pop-pop-pop of small arms on the other side of the door.

  Keo glanced over at Pressley and wondered if he had the same look on his face: Better them than me.

  Then an explosion, breaking through the monotony of gunfire. It was a small detonation and close by, and Keo thought the door quivered slightly against it, but that could have just been a trick of the limited light.

  It’s not a party until someone breaks out the grenades, Keo thought even as the gunfire continued to rage. The good news was that they never seemed to get any closer to their position, but then, it was difficult to really gauge distance surrounded by thick concrete walls.

  Better them than me…

  Keo waited for the inevitable, for the manic sounds of flesh and bones pounding against the door trying to get in. Because the ghouls knew they were down here. When one of them knew, the others did too through that hive mind of theirs. And there had definitely been more than one ghoul outside the door earlier. Way, way more than one.

  So where were they? Why weren’t they attacking the door yet? Or maybe they were too preoccupied with other things. Other people...like the ones still firing automatic weapons at them right now.

  Keo wasn’t sure how long they stood in front of the locked door and stared at it, listening to the chaos outside. He sneaked a look over at Pressley again. He was surprised she had helped out with the door earlier, but maybe he shouldn’t have been. Pressley was like him; she understood the concept of self-preservation. Though he had to question how much she really contributed given her walking wounded state. Still, he and the kids had been struggling until she showed up, so maybe he was underestimating her.

  She played possum on Winston’s men. She might be doing it to you, too. Maybe she’s not quite as hurt as she looks.

  Anything’s def
initely possible with Ms. Do It here.

  Keo finally took a step back, and the sound of his boots against the hard floor snapped the others out of their momentary stupor. The teenagers—and that was what they were, just kids—spun around, their faces suddenly flashing with alarm. They staggered backward, while at the same time lifting their rifles. Pressley also quickly acted, retreating half dozen steps down the corridor and aiming her weapon back at them.

  Oh crap, Keo thought, because he suddenly found himself standing between them.

  The boy had his AR pointed at Pressley while the girl had hers trained on him. Pressley was switching between the two teenagers, her rifle swinging past him each time. She wasn’t purposefully aiming at him, but if she unloaded and one of the kids responded, chances were very good Keo would catch a stray round.

  This…is not good.

  “Put down your gun,” the boy said.

  “You put down your gun,” Pressley said.

  “Put down your damn gun!” the girl shouted.

  “No!” Pressley shouted back.

  They went back and forth for a while, taking turns shouting orders at each other to lower their weapons and no one obeying. Or even coming close to obeying. Keo thought about ducking and crawling away, but the girl kept bringing her rifle back to him.

  “You!” the girl said, her eyes on him. “Put down your weapon!”

  “Really?” Keo said. “You can’t even get this one”—Keo nodded in Pressley’s direction—“to put down hers, and you want me to put down mine?”

  The girl looked confused by his response, and Keo imagined her mind turning behind those dark blue eyes (Is it me, or does every girl I’m meeting have blue eyes these days? Is this some kind of conspiracy to remind me of Lara?), trying to figure out what was happening and coming up short. She looked diminutive standing beside the tall and lanky boy, but it was clear she had experience with the rifle by the way she held it. The boy did, too—all six feet and one hundred and twenty soaking wet pounds of him.

  Keo hadn’t joined their little party with his shotgun, partly afraid any slight movement on his part would get him shot either by the teenagers or Pressley.

  Easy does it. Easy does it…

  The siege outside had continued unabated while Pressley and the teenagers pointed their guns and shouted at each other, though Keo was pretty sure he was the only one who still noticed. He thought the gunfire seemed to be moving away from them, but he didn’t completely dismiss the possibility that the underground facility was so concrete-heavy it made pinpointing exact locations of the action difficult. Hell, it was hard to figure out where he was inside the damn place, never mind what was happening beyond it.

  How big was this building, anyway? And how deep were they underground? He hadn’t been able to get anything resembling a decent look at the outside world while the door was partially opened. Then again, he was too busy staring at undead eyes to see anything else at the time.

  Undead eyes. Undead ghouls. They’re still out there. A shit ton of them.

  Maybe I can use that…

  He looked the kids up and down. Really, really look at them this time.

  He guessed they were about sixteen or seventeen, which would mean they had come of age during the post-Purge years. Which meant they were very familiar with the dangers of the real monsters. They might even know enough to be more afraid of what was happening outside the facility right now than what was in here with them.

  I can work with that.

  “Don’t shoot,” Keo said. “I’m putting my weapon down.”

  He slowly bent his knees and placed his shotgun on the floor. That brought a look of surprise from both the teenagers and Pressley.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Pressley asked.

  “Listen,” Keo said.

  “Listen to what?”

  “Just listen.”

  She did, while still clutching and unclutching the rifle that was pointed across the hallway—with Keo still very much in the way—at the kids.

  “You listening, too?” Keo asked the boy.

  “To what?” the boy said.

  “Out there. Outside. You hear it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. So?”

  “You saw them.”

  The teenager didn’t answer, but the girl beside him shuddered.

  “They’re out there, and we’re in here,” Keo said. “You really think it matters who you are, who I am, or who she is? With what’s out there right now?”

  The kids didn’t answer, and Keo wondered if they even understood what he was saying. Maybe he hadn’t explained it correctly. They were just teenagers, after all. He was a pretty dumb one at their age.

  “He’s right,” the girl said, and tentatively lowered her rifle.

  “What’re you doing?” the boy asked.

  “He’s right,” the girl said again. “You saw them, Brett. You saw how many there were. You know he’s right.”

  The boy, Brett, looked like he was about to argue, but he instead remained silent and kept his eyes focused on Pressley.

  “Pressley,” Keo said.

  “What?” Pressley snapped back.

  “Put down your gun.”

  “Fuck off, Keo.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You know what’s out there.” He looked over at her. “You know what’s out there.”

  One corner of her mouth twitched, and Keo thought about Greengrass’s words:

  “It’s out there right now, with that horde, looking for you. Whether we’re still in Cordine City or not, it’ll find you.”

  If Greengrass knew what was out there, then so did Pressley. It wasn’t the type of thing you could keep a secret, especially after Axton. Keo had developed the impression that Greengrass’s unit was a close-knit group, maybe even Fenton’s version of an A-Team. They had certainly proven to be formidable enough back at the office building.

  “Pressley,” Keo said, “you goddamn well know what’s out there.”

  Behind him, Brett and the girl shuffled their boots, but neither one said a word. He thought he could feel the boy’s eyes on him, maybe wondering what Keo was talking about.

  But Keo kept his attention fixed exclusively on Pressley. “Like you said, we’re a long way from Fenton. Everyone’s dead or dying out there right now. But we don’t have to join them. You understand?”

  Pressley glanced briefly at the door, listening to the crackles of gunfire, before looking back at Keo, then past him at the teenagers.

  “It’s just us now, in here,” Keo said. “You, me, and these kids. There’s a very good chance that’s all there will be at sunup tomorrow. Do you understand what I’m saying here, Pressley? Do you understand?”

  Pressley’s eyes shifted back and forth between Keo and the Cordine City kids over Keo’s shoulder. Then, narrowing her eyes at him, “You better be right about this.”

  “I am,” Keo nodded. “Trust me.”

  Pressley gritted her teeth, and he expected a smartass retort about “trusting” him, but instead she slowly lowered her rifle until it was hanging next to her side.

  Keo turned around and stared into the muzzle of Brett’s still-aimed carbine. “Kid, it’s your turn.”

  “Huh?” Brett said, looking from Pressley to Keo.

  “Weren’t you paying attention?”

  “Not really…”

  Great. Kid’s a meathead.

  “Brett,” the girl said. She put a hand on his arm and gently guided it down. “Brett…”

  The boy relented, but Keo didn’t sigh with relief until Brett’s AR was finally pointed at the floor.

  Hallelujah!

  The girl nodded at Keo. “What now, mister?”

  Keo smiled back at her and thought, Now I do the smart thing and move the hell out from between the three of you, so when you start pointing guns at each other again, I’m not the one who eats a stray bullet.

  “Call me Keo,” he said instead.

  Sixteen

  “What kin
d of name is that?” Brett asked.

  “Hey, we can’t all be Bretts,” Keo said.

  “Huh?”

  “Exactly.”

  Brett glanced over at the girl for help. She smiled back at him before looking past his shoulder at Keo. “I’m Scarlett, Mr. Keo.”

  “Just Keo’s fine, kid.”

  “Okay. Just Keo, then.”

  “That’s Elvis,” Keo said.

  Pressley narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about? My name’s Pressley.”

  “Elvis Pressley, right?”

  “Wrong spelling and wrong first name.”

  Keo shrugged. “Close enough.”

  “She’s one of them,” Brett said. “She’s from Fenton.”

  “What makes you say that?” Keo asked.

  “You said it.”

  “I did?”

  “Not in so many words, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. She came here with the others. The ones we fought yesterday.”

  I guess the kid’s not a total meathead after all.

  “She was,” Keo said.

  “Was?” Scarlett said doubtfully.

  “Her people are dead. She’s all that’s left.”

  “How does that make her ‘was?’” Brett asked.

  Keo glanced over at Pressley, but she looked through him and at the teenagers, and said, “As far as I’m concerned, Fenton or Cordine City doesn’t exist anymore. At least not while the four of us are down here and those monsters are out there.”

  Brett didn’t look convinced, and neither did Scarlett, but the kids didn’t argue. They also kept their weapons pointed at the floor, which was really all Keo cared about. But just in case, he put his hands on his shotgun, laying across his lap.

  He had somehow ended up in the middle of them again, when all four of them walked over to the wall opposite the blast door and sat down. Keo had thought about getting up and moving over to Pressley’s left side, but decided that maybe he needed to stay between them, almost as a buffer against further hostilities.

  So you’re a peacemaker now, huh? Now that’s worth a chuckle or two.

  Besides, he didn’t feel like standing or moving around more than he had to. The Tramadol was kicking in, he could feel it, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t tired from all the running and fighting and trying to stay alive of the last hour.

 

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