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Rooster (Road To Babylon, Book 3)

Page 18

by Sam Sisavath


  Who are you kidding?

  Stop it.

  Just…stop it.

  It’s over.

  It was over before it even started.

  He let his fingers unfurl and let his hands fall to the cold floor.

  Keo closed his eyes.

  For just a moment. Just a brief second—

  It was crouching in front of him.

  How?

  You know how, you idiot. You big, dumb idiot.

  “I won’t turn you,” it hissed. “Oh no. You won’t get off that easy. We’ll bond. And play. And soon, you won’t remember what it was like not having me inside, right”—It pricked him in the forehead and pushed his head against the wall with a finger—“here.”

  The cold and heat from its contact made him shiver.

  “Are you ready?” it hissed.

  Not in a million years.

  “Are you ready for the rest of your miserable existence?”

  Which part of “not in a million years” don’t you understand, you sonofabitch?

  “It’s time—” it began, when it stopped.

  The creature cocked its head, looking away from him and up the hallway, toward the gathered mass of ghouls.

  “No,” it whispered.

  “No?” No, what?

  “No,” it hissed again before standing up. “Not now. Not now.”

  Keo blinked up at the creature, confused by what was happening. Wasn’t he about to die? (Or worse?) What was happening? And what was it he was seeing in the monster’s face? In its eyes? Was that…?

  No. It couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  Blue Eyes was afraid. It was afraid.

  “No…” it whispered, just before the walls and floor and the ceiling shook—

  KRA-BOOM!

  Thunder?

  No, not thunder.

  Keo had heard that sound before. Too many times to count.

  It was a bomb.

  Someone had just dropped a bomb on Cordine City…

  Twenty-Two

  That doesn’t sound good.

  Or does it?

  Keo was wrestling with that question when something cracked above him. He glanced up just in time to see a section of the ceiling coming undone. He leapt out of its path—a chunk of concrete that smashed into the floor and instantly became smaller chunks. Nothing that would have killed him had it landed on top of his head, but it would have definitely hurt.

  The blue-eyed ghoul glanced back at him, its eyes blazing, bony face contorted into another expression Keo hadn’t seen before on the blue eyes—conflict. If Keo didn’t know any better, he would swear the creature was trying to decide whether to continue its assault on him or— What? What was the other option?

  God, I hope I don’t find out!

  The monster turned and glided up the hallway, its slender form slicing through the darkness and disappearing into the wall of ghouls on the other side.

  And just like that, it was gone.

  What…?

  Keo stared after it, trying and failing badly to understand what had just happened.

  Why had Blue Eyes just left him sitting on the floor on his ass? Was it the bomb he’d heard? Was something happening outside the facility that demanded the bastard’s attention more than finishing what it had started? Why—

  Shut up, you idiot. Shut up and run!

  Keo snapped back to his senses at the same time the blob of black flesh began moving, surging forward—toward him.

  Right. Run.

  Run!

  He scrambled to his feet and took off in the other direction.

  Even as his legs pumped underneath him, he realized how much time he’d wasted. A second, maybe just barely two, but it had been long enough for cold fingers to wrap around his elbow when his arm swung backward in mid-stride.

  Keo yanked his arm forward and the creature sailed past him, hollowed black eyes flashing by in a blur, saliva flitting from a cavern of jagged yellow and brown teeth. It reached for him with its other hand just before it slammed back first into the waiting wall. The collision loosened the ghoul’s grip on Keo’s arm before letting go completely as it flopped to the floor.

  He risked a glance back while streaking down the adjoining hallway, even as a swarm of them turned the corner, stampeding over the one that had almost gotten Keo. The malformed beast vanished underneath the forest of legs, and Keo swore it might have let out a squeal as it was trampled.

  Better you than me, pal!

  The end of the corridor came up in a rush, and Keo reached out with both hands to stop himself from crashing into it. He glided right and went around another turn, even as he smelled their stink behind him, reaching across the distance like a physical hand.

  He looked back again and was rewarded with the sight of creatures slamming into the walls, rail-thin bodies jostling for position in the limited space. There were so many of them, in such a small, contained room, that they were literally running into each other, pushing the ones to their left and right and in front of them in order to get one step ahead, to be the first to reach him. More than a few were trying to scale the walls, and one was somehow scurrying upside down on the ceiling.

  Now that’s something you don’t see every day!

  Others lost their balance or were knocked to the floor and ended up crushed under the surging wave. But they weren’t going to stop. It didn’t matter how many fell or were pinned against the sides or stumbled, there was always one, two—ten of them to take their place.

  But they were still behind him, still playing catch up. Despite the fact he had squandered one, maybe two precious seconds trying to figure out why Blue Eyes had run off, Keo was still in the lead. It helped that there was nothing to weigh him down—not a single weapon or bullet—and even his burning lungs couldn’t keep him from running faster, faster, faster.

  He was turning corners before they did and extending his lead. He didn’t know where the speed came from, but there was nothing quite like the thought of being underneath a pile of undead to keep you constantly searching for more, more, more.

  I’m going to make it. I can’t believe I’m going to make it!

  All because someone had dropped what sounded like a bomb on Cordine City. Or maybe no one had dropped it; maybe someone had set it off. That was possible. Winston and his people had been in control of the city for years now, and there were so many things out there just waiting to be picked up and repurposed for defense.

  Tanks, airplanes, bombs…

  Whatever it was—whatever was happening out there right now—it had drawn Blue Eyes back to the surface. And Keo was sure that was exactly where the prick had gone. Somewhere up there. Keo replayed the look on the monster’s face in his mind’s eye, the very real (human) conflict as it tried to decide what to do. Him, or what was taking place outside?

  It had chosen the latter.

  Thank you, Jesus! Hallelujah!

  He was laughing as he flung himself around another corner. He’d lost track of how many turns he’d made, but he was pretty sure he had been running for a while. At least ten minutes.

  No, that was stupid. It couldn’t have been ten whole minutes. More like five…or just one. Yeah, probably more like one—

  KRA-BOOM!

  Another explosion! Except this one actually felt more powerful. Either that or it was closer, because everything around Keo was shaking violently, even the floor under his feet.

  Oh, shit!

  He spilled forward and just managed to stick out both hands in time, or it would have been his face hitting the ground instead of just his chest.

  Fortunately it wasn’t just Keo that had lost his balance in the aftershock of the blast. When he glanced over his shoulder while scrambling back to his feet (Get up, get up! This is no time to be lying down, pal!), he saw the ghouls spill across the hallway behind him in multiple mounds of frantic flesh and bones. They were fighting each other—clawing and kicking and biting—to get back up first.

>   Well, at least it wasn’t just me!

  Then he was running again, charging toward yet another turn, even as his mind tried to understand what was happening. Not just down here, but out there, beyond the facility.

  Two explosions. He was sure of that. Two bombs had gone off—big and strong enough that he could feel them all the way down here through the facility’s thick concrete construction. The first one had drawn Blue Eyes topside, leaving its minions behind to…do what? Capture him? Eat him?

  Then there was the second bomb. Had Blue Eyes gone out there to try to stop it? If that was the case, it’d failed. Was it possible it had been caught in the blast? Ghouls, especially the blue-eyed ones, could survive a lot of things, but not the kind of explosion that could send Keo reeling down here.

  It’s dead. Please let it be dead.

  “I won’t turn you,” it had mocked him. “Oh no. You won’t get off that easy. We’ll bond. And play. And soon, you won’t remember what it was like not having me inside…”

  Keo shivered just remembering its words, even as his lungs continued to burn and his legs began to weaken, but he didn’t let any of that stop him. He kept running faster and faster. Or, at least, he thought he was.

  Yeah, that’s the ticket!

  He stopped looking behind him—he didn’t have to, he could hear and smell and feel them gaining—and concentrated on one thing, and one thing only: running.

  Faster, faster, faster.

  He might not even be going any faster, for all he knew, because Keo’s awareness of the situation was slowly dwindling as sweat covered his face, and it took a Herculean effort just to keep his arms swinging forward and back to help with his strides.

  I’m slowing down. Goddammit, I’m slowing down!

  How much he was slowing down, though, wasn’t something he could answer. But he had to be, because the stink from behind him was getting worse—it was catching up to him, like a jilted lover trying to embrace him.

  A door! Up ahead!

  Even better, an open door!

  He couldn’t tell if it was the same door that would lead him into Winston’s office or the room where they had been keeping Pressley. All the doors he’d seen so far were made of solid steel metal, the kind that could withstand explosive blasts. This one didn’t look any different, which made it difficult for him to prepare himself for what he’d find on the other side.

  But anything was better than out here. A door meant shelter. All he had to do was reach it.

  Reach it!

  The best-case scenario would be Winston’s office. There were things in there that he could use as a weapon. The one where they had been keeping Pressley was a barren cell block. Even worse, it couldn’t be locked from the inside, which would be a problem. A big, big problem.

  Please, let it be Winston’s office.

  Please, please, please.

  Please please please.

  Pleasepleaseplease.

  He glanced back one last time. They were turning the corner, the closest one still more than five meters behind him—No, scratch that. The closest ghoul had just been trampled by two others, and now they were just five meters behind him.

  Keo looked back around just as the door appeared in front of him. He turned his body sideways and sliced through the open space without slowing down. If he had turned too far or too short, he would have slammed one of his shoulders into the metal door, and that would have been the end of it.

  But he didn’t—and he was inside!

  Winston’s office. It was Winston’s office!

  OhthankGodohthankGod!

  But he didn’t have time to wallow in his triumph. He was too busy stopping on a dime and spinning around and throwing everything he had into the door. A burst of pain as the bruises along his shoulder and chest, hidden underneath his clothes, slammed against the thick slab of metal.

  Something (somethings?) flashed across his eyes as they slipped through the still-ajar door even as Keo pushed with everything he had. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t pause to see what had gotten through, because a few were better than that entire horde out there—

  Bam! as the door slammed into place, and Keo grabbed the lever and cranked it and heard the (God is great. God is so great!) very satisfying sounds of the locks spinning and snapping into place.

  He jumped back as they crashed into the door on the other side, the rapid fire thump-thump-thump like torrential rain. But it was the least of his concerns, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t been the only thing to make it through.

  Loud, saliva-drenched hissing filled Keo’s ears as it leapt at him from the darkness, but before it could reach him, a second dark form broadsided it and sent the creature flying into a floor lamp that cracked in half.

  Ghouls. Two of them.

  One of the undead things snapped up from the floor and snarled at him before launching itself forward. Keo sidestepped, and it flew past him and collided with the wall. It bounced off like a rubber ball (I’ve seen that before!) and was already chasing him as Keo made a beeline for Winston’s desk.

  The first ghoul that had gone flying into the lamp had picked itself up, and it stood in front of him and hissed. Keo never hesitated and ran right at it, taking off at the last second like a long jumper. The creature reached for him, fingers brushing against his pant legs as Keo sailed over its head and landed on the other side.

  Ten points for the landing!

  There, Winston’s prized possession.

  “It’s a Heisman Trophy,” Winston had said. “It’s not mine. I found it in a pawnshop about thirty miles from here. It’s a shame to just leave it lying around out there, so I took it. My way of saving it.”

  That was probably a lie. Keo wouldn’t have been surprised to learn the man had always wanted one but was never athletically gifted enough to sniff such a trophy. This was Texas, after all, where Friday Night Lights was a religion. Not that Winston was around to confirm or deny Keo’s theory.

  Grab it! Shut the hell up and grab that fucking thing!

  Keo did, snatching it off the desk by the figurine’s stretched back left leg. It was a lot heavier than he thought. Twenty pounds, at least, probably more like twenty-five. Which meant it was going to make a very good weapon.

  He pivoted and swung, and caught one of the ghouls—he couldn’t tell which one it was and didn’t particularly care—in the face as it lunged at him. Thick streams of coagulated black blood splashed everything within five feet of the creature’s head as its entire body snapped to the side. Keo basked in the very clear crack! he’d heard—a bone, somewhere on the creature, snapping in two. It was either its neck or its spine, or if he was really lucky, both.

  Gotta be both, ’cause I’m feeling really lucky right about now!

  He couldn’t help himself. Not after Greengrass, then Blue Eyes in the corridor. He had been fully prepared to embrace death, to accept that this was the end of the line. Instead, here he was, inside Winston’s office duking it out with two ghouls that were so small they could have been mistaken for children.

  Except these children wouldn’t die, even the one Keo had smashed in the head with the Heisman Trophy. Keo was sure it was still alive, trying to get back up even if he didn’t have the luxury of time to visually confirm that belief, because the second one was coming.

  It hissed at him and opened its mouth, just before Keo caved its skull in with another swing. The ghoul’s spine gave and it collapsed to the floor on its knees, bones clacking loudly with the impact. Rivers of blood poured out of its forehead, and it was looking up at him when Keo took another massive swing and landed a devastating blow to the side of its face. The creature lifted off the floor and cannonballed across the room into a pile of boxes that spilled old LP records everywhere.

  Fore!

  He might have laughed, but that was doubtful because he was too busy sucking in some much-needed deep breaths and trying not to vomit at the sight of his hands and the front of his clothes covered in oozing liquid.
The viscous wetness looked more like pus than blood, and the smell of rotting garbage attacked his nostrils. He switched to breathing through his mouth, which allowed him to gather himself just enough to search for—and locate—the first ghoul.

  It was slowly, very slowly picking itself up from the floor behind him. Its head was no longer supported by its neck but resting on top of its left shoulder. Black eyes peered at Keo from an awkward sideways position—one on top of another instead of side to side.

  “You want some more?” Keo asked.

  It opened its mouth, and saliva dripped down its bloodied chest in response.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Keo stalked toward it and the creature struggled to make its legs obey, but it didn’t get very far before Keo reached it and swung, embedding one of the sharp edges of the Heisman’s base into the ghoul’s torso. The bronze punched its way easily through flesh and shattered ribcages on the other side, and the only reason it didn’t go completely through the ghoul was because Keo had pulled back at the last second.

  The ghoul stumbled but wouldn’t go down.

  “Tough guy, huh? Well, I’ve seen tougher hombres than you, pal.”

  He hit it again, this time with a downward stroke, and decapitated its head at the neck while pile driving the ghoul into the floor. Its legs snapped under it with a sickening crack! and it fell in a pile of bones and flesh and slurping blood.

  “And stay down.”

  Scratching sounds from behind him.

  Keo turned and watched the other ghoul rising from the floor. Its head was still attached but behind its back, somehow hanging onto the rest of its body by strings of stretching muscle and tendons.

  “Look at you. Time to check your HMO, pal. I don’t think your current plan’s working too well for you.”

  Keo wished he could have said he’d never seen something like it before, but that would have been a lie. He’d seen ghouls in worse conditions still remain on their feet, attacking.

  Same shit, different day.

  The ghoul hobbled toward him, but its legs weren’t working correctly, and even if Keo were to stand perfectly still for an hour, he wasn’t sure it would even reach him by then.

 

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