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

by Sam Sisavath

  Keo stared at her. “What about Carrie and Bonnie?”

  “What?”

  “You said, ‘Carrie, and now Bonnie.’ What did you mean by that?”

  Zoe’s face paled. “You don’t know…”

  “Know what?”

  “Oh God, no one’s told you…”

  “Told me what, Doc?”

  HE VIVIDLY REMEMBERED CARRIE, back on Song Island, trying to convince him to stay. They were preparing for an attack at the time, and he wanted no part of it—especially one on behalf of a bunch of strangers.

  “It’s not about the island,” she had said. “It’s about the people on it. It’s always been about the people. Stay with us, Keo. There might not be anything for you out there, but there’s something here, now.”

  She hadn’t come out and said it, but he’d known what she meant. She was talking about herself, asking him to stay with her. In the months after she had followed up with hints, but he had always been too focused on getting to Gillian to take her up on her offer. He had regretted it ever since.

  Then there was Bonnie…

  But it was always about Gillian…until it wasn’t anymore.

  Keo gritted his teeth and thumbed a bullet out of the magazine and flicked it into the air, then watched it drop all the way down to the water three decks below. He had a great view of Black Tide nearby as well as the surrounding Gulf of Mexico from the rear of the Trident. The cool wind and solitude, along with the slowly creeping orange glow of evening, made the place ideal to be alone with his thoughts.

  Another 9mm round shot into the air before gravity pulled it back down, turning end over end as it vanished out of view and, a second later, the soft and barely audible ploomp as it landed in the water below.

  “Those things cost money, you know,” Lara said as she appeared next to him. She leaned against the railing and looked down at the same patch of blue water.

  “I’m replacing them with silver ammo,” he said.

  “Smart, but that still doesn’t mean you can literally just throw bullets away. Every bullet counts.”

  “My bad.”

  “My bad?” she smiled.

  “Don’t people say that anymore?”

  “I don’t think people ever said that, Keo. At least not anyone over ten.”

  “You learn something new every day.” He nodded at the beach in front of them. “What’s going on over there?”

  People were milling along the sand. Most of them were civilians, but there were a few soldiers among them. He saw handshakes, talking, and laughing. A few might have even been embracing.

  “Riley’s people,” Lara said. “I asked them to go back, to put in a good word for us.”

  “Looks like they’re getting along. Like that little uprising on the Ocean Star never happened.”

  Ploomp! as another round dropped into the water below.

  “I guess they realized it wasn’t about them after all; it was always about Mercer,” Lara said. “About his war. In a lot of ways, Riley did them all a favor by opening their eyes.”

  “That’s what I keep hearing.”

  “Funny how things work out. Not all that long ago, one of them almost killed Riley for it. Now he’s helping Rhett organize the meetings on the island, trying to convince them to do it all over again. It feels wrong somehow.”

  “Soldiers fight, Lara. Even if they weren’t soldiers before this, they are now. The ones who don’t have the stomach for it will stay home. The ones that do will come with us. Yours, Mercer’s, or Frank’s war. It doesn’t matter, really.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I still have a hard time thinking about this from a military perspective.”

  “You’ll come around,” Keo said. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be over there right now?”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing since noon? I’m exhausted, Keo. I think I might have met and talked with every single person on that island.”

  “I told Doc we’re looking at a fifty-fifty chance we’ll get enough volunteers to give Frank’s plan the best shot at success.”

  “You were being generous.”

  “Was I?”

  “I’d kill for fifty-fifty. It’s more like forty-sixty. Maybe thirty-seventy.”

  “Still good odds. I’ve done with worse.”

  “For you, maybe. For us mere mortals, it’s not nearly enough. But we should get a better idea by the end of tonight. I wish I could give them more time, but we’re running out of it. Will’s going to be in position soon, and we need to be there for him.”

  “How many do you need?”

  “All or most of the pilots. Some of the tankers. And a lot of the support people.”

  “I think you’ll get it. Or most of it.”

  “You think so?”

  He thumbed loose another 9mm bullet. “Your speech over the intercom was pretty convincing. I got goose bumps.”

  “I didn’t know you had goose bumps to get, Keo.”

  “It’s either that or I’m coming down with the flu. Considering my run of luck these days, who knows.”

  She gave him an amused glance. “What are you talking about? You’re still alive, aren’t you? When I last saw you on the Ocean Star, I thought that was the last time we’d ever talk.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.”

  “I should have known better. Next time, I will.”

  Keo flicked another round into the ocean. “So, lowballing it at thirty-seventy, huh?”

  “Around there. I just hope they can get over the fact that I’m a twenty-something medical school dropout trying to convince them to fight another war after everything they’ve been through.”

  “In your defense, you’re only a dropout because the world ended.”

  She laughed, and Keo smiled.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her laugh—if ever. Had she ever laughed before while he was around, before he left to find Gillian? Not that she ever had a whole lot to be happy about. Will had been missing all that time, and there was all the work involved with training everyone and keeping the Trident afloat. Even now, he had no idea how she was doing it, shouldering all the responsibility on so little sleep and rest.

  She looked as tired today as she did back then. The number on her birth certificate might have said twenty-six years, but he was looking at a much older woman. It wasn’t in the worry lines or the bags under her eyes, but in the way she leaned against the railing, as if she needed the extra support.

  “That’s what people keep reminding me,” she said. “College dropout by way of the apocalypse, getting ready for a war.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Still, Mom would be so disappointed.”

  “That you’re a dropout, or that you’re about to launch another war?”

  “Both.”

  She looked across the water at the beach and the civilians still gathered there. It really did look like one big happy reunion, and he found himself watching along with her in silence for a while.

  Finally, she said, “What are you going to do after this, Keo?”

  You mean if I’m still alive? he thought, but said, “I have no idea. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  “No plans?”

  “Not a one.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What about Frank?”

  “What about him?”

  “If this works out the way he says it will…”

  “I don’t know if it’ll be possible to go back to the way it was. Everything’s so…”

  “Fucked up?”

  She smiled. “Different. Everything’s so different.”

  “That would have been my second guess.” Keo slipped the empty magazine back into the MP5SD and slung the weapon. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t around when you asked for volunteers to go out there with Frank. Or around when everything else happened onboard the boat.”

  Lara sighed. “Zoe told me. I’m sorry, Keo. I was looking for the right time to t
ell you myself, but with everything happening at the island… I’m sorry you had to learn about Carrie and Bonnie this way.”

  “Don’t sweat it. You had a lot on your plate.”

  “I know you were close to both of them. I don’t know what else to say except I’m sorry.”

  “I’m more worried about Lorelei and Jo.”

  “Lorelei took it hard. She threw herself into helping with guard duty as a way to cope. I have Carly and Sarah and the others keeping a close eye on her.”

  “And Jo?”

  “Jo…” Lara pursed her lips. “I haven’t gotten around to telling her yet. How do you tell someone their sister isn’t coming back?”

  “You want me to do it?”

  Lara shook her head. “No. It’s my responsibility. I’m the one who sent Bonnie out there.”

  “She volunteered. All three of them did.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” She looked off at the setting sun in the distance. “First Carrie, now Bonnie. And it’s not going to stop. There are going to be more casualties before this is over.”

  Keo didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say anyway, and the silence, with only the calming back and forth of the waves against the anchored Trident, was almost therapeutic.

  Their peace and quiet was only broken when Elise and Vera and a couple of the other kids appeared along the railing two decks below them. The kids looked off at the island’s long stretch of beach, pointing and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

  “They’ve been bugging me about going over,” Lara said. “I think they miss the beach we had back at Song Island.”

  “Why haven’t you let them?”

  “Because I can’t protect them out there. I can’t be everywhere at once. Neither can Carly nor Sarah. They’re safest here, onboard with us. For now.”

  “You sent Riley’s people back there.”

  “They’re not Elise and Vera.”

  He nodded. “Pretty soon they’ll have company.”

  “You know something I don’t?”

  “Danny. He’s going to be a daddy, remember?”

  That brought a smile to her lips. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around that concept.”

  “That poor kid,” Keo said. “That poor, poor kid.”

  Lara laughed, and Keo smiled.

  22

  WILL

  “YOU’RE COMING HOME.”

  No. Not home. It had stopped being home over a year ago when the world crumbled and the cities blacked out and he found salvation elsewhere. Home wasn’t a place of brick and mortar or cement. Home was her.

  Lara.

  “You belong here.”

  The voice had grown in strength after that first night back on land, when he had to lead the black eyes away from Gaby and the others. He had only been partially successful and two of them—the slowest among the horde—had lagged behind. The woman died as a result of that failure.

  That left two.

  “You’ve always belonged here.”

  He couldn’t let that happen again. Not with Gaby’s life at stake. She was one of the reasons he was doing this. The reason he was taking the fight to Mabry. Back to where it all began one cold, dark night.

  “It’s good you’ve finally accepted it.”

  He was the beginning and the end, the nothing and the everything. Nowhere, and everywhere.

  “You didn’t think you’d be able to slip through unnoticed, did you?”

  No. He never had any delusions he would be able to make it back to the city without being seen, felt, or sensed. Mabry had spied him through the black eyes as he led them away from the barn, into the woods, and out the other side. But they were slow things, dumb things, and he outmaneuvered them with minimal effort and destroyed the ones that got close enough to pose any danger.

  “Or maybe you’re still lying to yourself.”

  He wanted to answer, wanted to shout back in defiance. But he didn’t, because it was a trick, an attempt to lure him out of hiding. Once he exposed himself to the stream of consciousness that linked the brood to Mabry, there would be no secrets left between them. It was already difficult enough to stay hidden this close to the city, having to move in the daytime.

  “Lying to them.”

  The sun made him defenseless and weak and reliant on others. Unlike all the other times when he was here, in the darkness, when he was alone and fast, and though Mabry always knew he was close, he could never locate him.

  “Lying to her.”

  It wasn’t just Mabry out there probing, picking at the defenses he had erected to protect his mind and his sanity. He could feel them—the other blue eyes. The ones that had remained in the city to protect him. To protect Mabry. They were reaching out, too. Searching, waiting for him to make a mistake. Just one mistake so they could pounce.

  “Come home.”

  Home? No, not home. His home was wherever she was.

  “I’ll see you soon…”

  THE DESIRE TO come out of the suitcase was like an itch he desperately wanted to scratch, that continued to grow with every passing second. Finally, finally, Blaine unwound the layers of duct tape and pulled the zipper, and he emerged. He could have broken through—it wouldn’t have taken very much effort at all—but that would have damaged the transportation and forced them to repair it, and they might need it again for another day.

  Blaine flinched at the sight of him—it would have been imperceptible to the human eye—and the big man’s heartbeat increased marginally, though they might as well be firecrackers to his hypersensitive ears. The clothing he wore helped to ease Blaine’s mind, but it would never be enough. Because whatever he did, whatever he hid underneath, he would never truly be the man they remembered. He wasn’t a man at all anymore.

  “Sorry about that,” Blaine said. “Had to take care of the prisoner first. Make sure she didn’t see you.”

  He nodded, not that he cared if the woman saw him or not.

  “Place’s secure,” Blaine continued. “So tomorrow we either get moving or run back to the shoreline, huh? I’m not sure which one I’m hoping for, to be perfectly honest with you.” An awkward grin. “Still waiting for word from Lara.”

  The right response eluded him, so he chose to stay silent instead. It was difficult talking to Blaine and the others. They didn’t know him as well as Lara did. As well as Danny or Gaby. Or maybe he just didn’t care enough.

  “What now?” Blaine asked. “We just wait it out?”

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  “I guess it’s gonna be a long night. Good thing the truck seats are comfortable. Not to mention warm. Not that you need warmth, right?” Another attempt at a smile that went awry from the very beginning. “Of course not. I keep forgetting where you’ve been spending your days.”

  There was a slight quiver in Blaine’s voice, the uncertainty that comes with allying yourself with a blue-eyed ghoul. He understood and decided to take mercy on them both by leaving Blaine and gliding across the oil-slicked garage floor.

  Gaby was in the office at the back, and he slipped through the open door. She looked up from the desk where she had placed her disassembled rifle on white rags and was running a toothbrush through the metal parts. She was biting down on a small flashlight to see with, and she removed it now and placed it next to her.

  A flush of pride at how much she had grown, proof that what he used to be—who he once was—had mattered. But the unwanted emotion was only temporary and quickly diffused by the large amount of exposed silver on the desk. He wrinkled his nose and wanted to spit out the taste, like knives against his tongue.

  “Blaine’s still nervous around you; that’s why he’s blabbing so much,” Gaby said. “It’s going to take him a while to get used to it. The others, too.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “Haven’t heard back from Lara yet, if that’s what you’re going to ask.”

  He nodded, even though that piece of information was unnecessary because he could
hear everything while inside the suitcase.

  “But I think it’s going to be good news,” Gaby continued. “Lara can be pretty convincing when she needs to be, but I probably don’t have to tell you that.”

  “She’ll convince them,” he said. “She was born to lead. She just didn’t know it until now.”

  “I hope you’re right, because there’s a lot of bad guys out there for us to take on all by ourselves.”

  “We wouldn’t have been alone.”

  “I know. We’d have help. Still, I’d feel better about this mission if there were a couple of tanks and Warthogs lending a hand.”

  “She’ll convince them.”

  “I hope so.” Gaby stopped what she was doing and turned around in her chair. Green eyes fixed on him and he saw no traces of fear or hesitation. “Regardless of what happens with Lara, or on Black Tide, when you get right down to it, it’s all going to come down to you. So you better be right, Will. After what we went through to get this far…” She stopped short before continuing: “You better be right.”

  He nodded.

  “Then why do I keep getting this feeling you’re not telling me everything? That you’re holding something back? Not just from me, but from Lara too?” She stared at him with none of the reluctance or apprehension that Blaine still couldn’t overcome, and might never be able to. “Tell me you’ve told us everything, Will. Tell me the truth.”

  “I’ve told you everything,” he lied.

  “Everything,” she repeated.

  “Everything,” he lied again.

  She nodded and sat back in the chair. “So what now? Sit here until Lara radios back with news?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hate waiting. Have I told you that?”

  “Maybe…”

  “You don’t remember?”

  He shook his head.

  “I guess it’s not important. You only remember the important things, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes sense. Everything else is just a pain in the ass.” She swiveled around to the desk and picked up the pieces and continued working. “Do you remember all those times on the island?” A smile creased her lips. “When you and Danny taught me all of this? Those were still some of the best days of my life.”