Purge of Babylon (Book 9): The Bones of Valhalla

by Sam Sisavath

  Almost as likely as Keo not being able to handle himself in all that mess.

  Danny and the other three black silhouettes were racing up the beach now. They were moving at a steady pace when one of them paused for a moment next to one of the bodies, maybe to check it for vital signs. But the man was back on his feet a few seconds later and running to catch up with the other three.

  Lara focused her binoculars on the stacks of smoke rising lazily into the cloudless sky from the other side of the island. The fire had either been contained or had stopped its spread because the rest of Black Tide looked untouched by the explosion and resulting blaze.

  She thought about telling Maddie to go around Black Tide to get a better look, but decided against it. There were still no guarantees that the same people who had torched the docks weren’t still around. The last thing she wanted was to risk the Trident against something more than just small arms fire. What if they had used a grenade launcher on the docks? Or maybe even an RPG? According to Rhett, the island had its own armory built up from an entire year of constant stocking.

  “Peters,” Lara said into the radio. “Anything?”

  “They’re in the weeds,” Peters said.

  He was referring to Danny and the others. She had lost sight of them once they left the beach behind. She could just make out rows of gleaming metal in the background—the military facilities that stretched across the length of the island.

  “They must have taken the fighting indoors,” Peters continued.

  “Can you hear gunfire?”

  “No. But if they’re inside the facilities, I wouldn’t. The walls are concrete and metal.”

  “All right. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Roger that,” Peters said.

  Maddie glanced over. “Anxious?”

  Lara gritted her teeth. “I hate standing here helpless.”

  With nothing to do, they stood on the bridge in silence and looked out the wraparound front windshield and waited.

  It was an agonizing full minute, which later became two…then five.

  Five minutes became ten…

  “You want me to move closer?” Maddie finally asked. Lara could hear it in the other woman’s voice—Maddie was hoping for the go ahead.

  “No,” Lara said, despite wanting desperately to give the small Texan her yes.

  IT WAS ALMOST an agonizing half hour later when they finally heard from Danny again: “Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies. And Peters.”

  “Danny,” Lara said. “What’s the situation?”

  “It’s under control. They were trying to retake the facilities. Fortunately they had the decency to concentrate their bad guy planning to the command area, left the civvies section mostly untouched.”

  “Who were they?”

  “One guess.”

  “Mercer loyalists?”

  “Bingo-schmingo,” Danny said. “Or Mercerians, as Keystone calls them.”

  “Speaking of which, did you find Keo?”

  “Yeah, he was in the middle of it, but you probably already figured that one out.”

  Lara exchanged a quick of course look with Maddie.

  “He’s uglier than I remembered, but still relatively in one piece,” Danny said.

  “Relatively?” Lara said.

  “Like I said, way uglier, so who knows what’s going on with that dude that isn’t immediately obvious to the human eye.”

  “What about Rhett and the others?”

  “All good. We caught those Mercerian troublemakers while they were retreating through the hallway. It wasn’t pretty. I guess you could say not all of them’s going to get an open casket funeral.”

  “And the docks?”

  “Rhett says his people secured it. Or, well, what’s left of it.”

  “How bad was it?”

  “No official body count yet. You probably can’t hear it, but Rhett’s giving a speech over the intercom right now. Pretty rousing little sucker too, from the reactions I’m seeing on the faces of some of the civvies.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  “He’s telling them what happened, who’s responsible, and how many people are dead as a result. Don’t tell anyone, but I think he’s playing a little fast and loose with that last number. Anyway, I think this could be it, kiddo.”

  “‘It?’”

  “The last grasp of Mercer’s ghost,” Danny said. “After this, I don’t think anyone’s going to want to be caught dead calling themselves Mercerians. When the crowd turns on you, that’s when you know your Amateur Night at the Apollo’s finito.”

  THERE WAS no one waiting for her on the beach when she arrived alone on the tender. Not that she expected anyone to be, since she hadn’t told Danny or Rhett that she was even coming. But she had to see it in person, if just to familiarize herself with Black Tide and its inhabitants. These were the people she was going to have to win over in order to give Will’s plan every possible chance of success.

  When she climbed out of her small boat, people in civilian clothes were removing the three bodies she had seen from the bridge of the Trident. They had draped sheets over the dead men and were carrying them away while soldiers in tan uniforms stood watch along the beach. No one tried to stop her, or even seemed to notice her.

  She walked through the group of civilians and soldiers, stepping around the blood in the sand where she could and over them when she couldn’t. Lara recognized the looks on the faces of the people closest to her—they were still shell-shocked by what had happened and seemed to almost be moving on automatic pilot. The soldiers looked more alert, though not by very much.

  She took her time traveling up the beach, the mushy sand sinking under her boots with every step. Finally, she reached the grass and got her first real good look at the connecting metal structures that made up Black Tide’s facilities. A stripped down version of an airfield separated her and the buildings, but at the moment there were no planes in sight. She guessed they were probably housed in hangars at the other end of the island.

  There were spent shell casings on the ground, along the path that was used to walk between the beach and buildings, and scattered in the untended fields. Some were old, but most were unmistakably very new and still glinting against the morning sunlight. Fresh splashes of blood clung to the taller stalks of grass.

  Black Tide was eerily serene in the aftermath of the gun battle, with only a few scattered whispered conversations on the beach. Some of the people she passed by gave her a slight acknowledging nod, but no one stopped to question her presence.

  She was halfway to the buildings when a familiar voice said, “As I live and breathe, the Lara walks amongst us.”

  She stopped and glanced over. “You’ve looked better.”

  “Story of my life,” Keo said, smiling back at her.

  He was sitting against a tree, some kind of submachine gun leaning against the trunk next to him. The weapon looked similar to the one he had been carrying when they first met. An MP-something.

  She wasn’t surprised at all to see that he had collected extra scars, most noticeably the stitches across the middle of his forehead where the skin was still black and purple. A thick bandage, held in place by tape, stuck out from his right temple like some kind of abnormal third ear. Other than that, he looked like the Keo she remembered from their last meeting on the Ocean Star, and the sight of him very much alive and sitting there casually watching her back brought a smile to her lips.

  She walked over to him. “I heard you went and got yourself shot in the head.”

  “My legend precedes me.”

  “You look pretty good for a guy who was shot in the head.”

  “There’s some debate about that.”

  “You’re alive.”

  “Since you put it that way, yeah, never felt better.”

  She nodded at the submachine gun next to him. “I also see that someone let you have your toys back.”

  “It’s a decent replacement. Sort of just fell into my
lap, too.”

  “Oh, I don’t believe that at all.”

  “You’re too paranoid. Just because people are constantly trying to kill you doesn’t mean everyone’s trying to kill you.”

  “Now you’re starting to make almost as much sense as Danny.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

  “Depends on your perspective. But I don’t see anyone trying to kill you now, so I take it you’ve made nice with everyone here?”

  “The ones still alive, anyway.” He picked up a can of beer and drank from it, then made a face. “Tastes like dog piss.”

  “So stop drinking it.”

  “Can’t. Free beer. I never turn down free beer.”

  She sat down against the tree next to him and sighed as a fresh, cool breeze whipped across the island and over them. Keo had chosen an excellent spot, one that allowed him to see almost everything, including a long stretch of the beach. She could see the tender she had arrived in from here, which meant he had been watching her all this time and didn’t say anything until she was almost past him.

  “Can I have some of that?” she asked.

  He passed the can over. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Can’t be that bad,” she said, and took a small sip…before spitting it back out. “Jesus.”

  “Told ya.”

  She handed the beer back to him. “How can you even drink this?”

  “It was either this or water.” He drank from it again before making the same face. “A guy can only drink so much water before he wants something different.”

  A couple of civilians walked past them, sticking to the path. Neither one of them glanced over in their direction.

  “Thank you,” Lara said.

  “For what?” Keo said.

  “You saved our lives. That night, when Mercer’s warplane found us…”

  “Eh, I had nothing else better to do anyway.”

  “I mean it, Keo. Thank you. Elise and Carly and everyone else on the Trident thanks you, too.”

  He nodded, as if she’d just told him thanks for mowing the lawn, and gulped down the last of the warm beer before folding the can between his palms and tossing it into the grass. “What about you? You doing okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Frank.”

  She sighed and leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes and enjoyed the wind against her skin. It had been so long since she allowed herself to just sit still and do nothing. How long ago had it been since she had an entire day where she wasn’t making a decision that could cost people their lives?

  Too long. It had been too damn long.

  She opened her eyes and stared up at the cloudless blue sky. “He’s in Texas waiting for me to convince what’s left of Mercer’s people to go back to war.”

  “I don’t mean that,” Keo said. “I mean, are you okay after Frank’s return?”

  “I’m okay, Keo.” It was probably a little too quick of an answer, but if Keo doubted her, he didn’t pursue it.

  He said instead, “I think they’re ready to be convinced.”

  She followed his gaze to the beach, where a half dozen civilians were milling around in small groups. They were looking out at the Trident, adrift at sea in the near distance.

  “What if I can’t?” she asked.

  “You will,” he said.

  “You sound like him.”

  “Who?”

  “Will. Frank. He’s sure I can do it, too.”

  “He’s right.”

  She glanced over at him. “Why?”

  He smiled again, and she thought it was probably the most earnest, not-smartass smile she had ever gotten from him. “Because it’s easy to believe in you, Lara.”

  “Why?” she asked again. Then, before he could answer, “Why?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s just something that is, not something you can put into words. Some people might call it destiny. Some might call it fate. You can call it whatever you what. It just is.”

  “I don’t believe in fate or destiny.”

  “Providence, then?”

  “My parents would have a stroke if they heard that.”

  “Not believers, huh?”

  “Not much, no.”

  “Maybe you should start. It’s never too late.”

  She shook her head and looked back at the beach. “When did you start turning into a hippie?”

  “Like I’ve been trying to tell people, after you’ve almost died as many times as I have, you start wondering about things you didn’t use to.”

  “Sounds dangerous for a man like you.”

  “Oh yeah. Spending three days in a jail cell by yourself while stewing in your own juices, waiting for people to decide whether they’re going to kill you fast or slow, doesn’t help either. You start thinking about all kinds of crazy things.”

  “And after all that, you’re still alive.”

  “What can I say? I didn’t want to be accused of being an asshole by some chick with a fancy yacht.”

  Lara smiled to herself. “She sounds like a real bitch.”

  “She has her moments.”

  They watched two men in tan uniforms walk by. One of them glanced over, saw that she was looking at him, and quickly turned away. They continued on up the path, but she could almost sense them doing everything humanly possible not to stop and look over again.

  Next to her, Keo chuckled. “Like I said, they’re ready. Not all of them, mind you, but maybe enough.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on the wind in her hair, the feel of the breeze against her skin.

  She didn’t want this. She’d never wanted this. The fact that everyone seemed to be convinced she could do something she had no experience in, or ever dreamed of doing in this life or any other, made it all the more…what was the word? Aggravating? Annoying? Absolutely terrifying?

  “How freaked out are you right now?” Keo asked.

  “What makes you think I am?”

  “If people started treating me like I’m the second coming, I’d be pretty freaked out right about now.”

  She pursed a smile. “Maybe a ten.”

  “It’s human nature, you know. This need for a savior. That’s why they gave themselves to Mercer so willingly and went along with his insane plan for a whole year. They knew what it was, but they went along with it because everyone needs something to believe in. Or someone.”

  His words brought back what Peters had said, that she still couldn’t get over:

  “Everyone needs to believe in something, Lara. I chose badly with Mercer, but I rectified that. Now I’m choosing to believe in you.”

  “Why me?” she asked now.

  “Why not you?” Keo said.

  “What if you’re wrong? What if Will’s wrong? What if everyone’s wrong about me?”

  “We’re not, though.”

  “What if.”

  “But we’re not,” he insisted. “You took charge on the island, knowing bad men with guns were coming right at you. You stood your ground and you led. Then you did it again on the boat. You could have folded and hid in your room at any time, but you didn’t. Instead, you took command. That was instinct, Lara. Not everyone has those kinds of instincts, but you do.”

  She watched two women in civilian clothes walking along the path in front of them. They were doing their very best not to look over at her, but she could tell they wanted to badly.

  “Keo,” she said after a while.

  “Yeah?” Keo said next to her.

  “If I’m able to convince them, I’m going to need someone to lead them. Danny can’t do it.”

  “What’s wrong with Danny boy? I saw him a few minutes ago. He looks like he’s still got all his arms and legs.”

  “Carly’s pregnant.”

  “Ah.”

  “I need someone to take over for him.”
>
  “Okay,” Keo said.

  “Don’t you want to at least think about it?”

  “Nah.”

  “I think you should at least think about it.”

  “You said you need me to do this, right?”

  “Yes. Besides Danny, you’re the only one I trust to get this done.”

  “Okay, then. Consider it done.” There was a snap! as he opened another can of fizz-less beer. “Want some?”

  She shook her head and gave him an amused smile. “How many of those do you have?”

  “They got cases of the stuff in storage,” Keo said. He took a sip and made the same face. “Unfortunately, they all taste like warm piss.”

  THE COMM ROOM was smaller than the bridge on the Trident, but the gear that lined one side of the wall was more sophisticated. Right now she was only concerned with the microphone that Jane, the young woman in charge of the room, had handed to her and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Lara nodded back before looking over at Riley and Rhett standing nearby. Under the room’s artificial light, Rhett looked as if he had aged ten years since she first saw him this morning. Riley just looked anxious.

  Behind her, Danny leaned against a wall next to the open door, spooning meat from a can of SPAM as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  “Any suggestions?” she asked him.

  “Speak from the heart,” Danny said. “Wherever that is.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Any time.”

  She turned to Keo, sitting on a chair in a corner. He had found another can of warm beer and was balancing it on one knee as he looked back at her. If not for the scars and bruises, he could easily have been mistaken for the guest at someone’s backyard Fourth of July party, a man without a care in the world.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “Have a sip; it’ll loosen you up,” Keo said, holding up the can in offering.

  “No thanks. I learned my lesson the first time.”

  “Your loss,” he said, and took a drink. “Christ, this thing sucks.”

  “So why do you keep drinking it?” Danny asked.

  “It was either this or water.”