by Sam Sisavath
Danny chuckled. “Yeah, ol’ Keo’s got himself a way with the locals, all right.”
“Some guys did try to kill me earlier today,” Keo was saying.
“You okay?” Lara asked.
“Nicked, but still in one piece. Well, mostly.”
“Mostly is good.”
“Anyway, the reason I’m calling. Rhett wanted me to assure you that he’s willing and able to listen to what you have to say when you arrive, in case your extended convo with him earlier wasn’t enough to convince you.”
“That’s awfully considerate of him.”
“Yeah, Rhett’s a real Southern gentleman, like that guy from that movie Danny probably knows, but don’t ask him because I don’t really care.”
Danny grunted and mouthed something, but Lara didn’t catch it.
“But considering it’s almost dark,” Keo was saying, “it might be a good idea to wait until tomorrow before putting the tugboat into harbor. Morning-ish, say.”
“That was always the plan,” Lara said.
“Brilliant minds think alike.” Then, “What about our mutual friend?”
“He’s in-country,” Lara said, but didn’t add anything else.
“And everything went…okay?”
She knew he was asking about her reunion with Will. Keo and Will had traveled together long before she ever learned Will was still alive, and sometimes she wondered what they had talked about out there as they were making their way to Sunport to link up with her.
“As can be expected,” she said into the mic.
“Is that good or bad?” Keo asked.
“I’ll let you know when we see each other again.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll keep both eyes out on this end, and I suggest you do the same. Not everyone’s all-in with Riley coming back after that Ocean Star fiasco, so you’re not out of the woods yet. Hell, half the people on this island still want to kill me.”
“What about the other half?”
“I’d love to say they want to give me a medal, but it’s more like give me an enema. With a hollow-point bullet.”
“Ouch,” Maddie said.
“What about Rhett?” Lara said into the mic. “What’s he doing to keep you safe?”
“Whatever he can,” Keo said. “But let’s face it, no one looks out for my hide better than me, myself, and I. People call it selfish, but I like to think of it as basic self-preservation. Anyways, that’s all I’m allowed to say. I got a couple of guys here watching me like hawks. Hawks with rifles. I don’t think they’d shoot me, but why chance it, right?” There was a second or two of silence, then, “Speaking of Southern gentlemen, heeeeeeere’s Rhett.”
“Well, that was sweet,” Rhett said through the speakers. “I almost got all teary-eyed just listening.”
Danny snorted. “Me too.”
“Keo’s right about the clock,” Lara said into the microphone. “We’re running out of daylight.”
“Neither one of us are going anywhere, so let’s save it for tomorrow,” Rhett said. “Until then, can I speak to Riley? We have a few things to hash out before he gets here. He needs to know that not everyone will be happy about it.”
Lara held the mic out to Riley. “It’s for you.”
She and Danny stood just outside the bridge in the hallway while Riley and Rhett communicated over the radio. The door was open and they could hear snippets of conversation, mostly from Rhett’s side thanks to the speakers broadcasting everything he was saying out loud.
“You think Kobe Steak was trying to give us hints back there?” Danny asked. “About not showing up until morning?”
Lara thought about it for a moment before finally shaking her head. “I think he was just being cautious and wanted to make sure we saw things the same way. I don’t think he’s willingly helping Rhett to lure us into an ambush.”
“That didn’t stop you from getting the Shootist to come up with some scenarios.”
“I’m just being cautious. Just in case.”
Danny grinned. “We should put that on a banner. ‘Just in Case.’”
“You knit and I’ll sew.”
“Deal.”
They continued to watch Riley on the mic while listening to Rhett’s voice coming through the speakers. They seemed to be discussing names, people who Rhett thought was on their side and those who weren’t there yet—or were completely opposed. None of the names made any impression on Lara.
“So I guess that settles that,” Danny finally said. “We’re still doing this come morning.”
“Are you having doubts?” she asked.
“I’m always having doubts. Back in college, they used to call me Having Doubts Danny. Later, we shortened it to HDD, because, you know, brevity.”
“Of course.”
“As for doubts, well, my best friend in the world just came back from the dead as a blue-eyed ghoul. Next to that, this plan of his makes perfect, logical sense.”
“Even after you thought Will might not have told us everything? Do you still think that?”
Danny thought about it for a moment before answering. “It’s Will. I mean, it’s not Will, Will. But it’s still Willie boy. Ish. I have to either believe that wholeheartedly, or I’ll have to question everything. And I guess I’m choosing to believe.”
They returned to listening to Riley and Rhett for a moment before Lara finally said, “I hear congratulations are in order.”
Danny grinned. “She finally got around to telling you, huh? I was wondering when she’d do that. Kinda got tired of you thinking I’m a chicken shit for not going back out there with Gaby and Will.”
“I never thought that, Danny.”
“Why not? I did.”
“I’d never think that of you. Ever.”
He forced a smile. “I feel it, though. That chicken shit feeling. I should be out there with them, not safe and sound on this floating bathtub.”
“You’re going to be a father, Danny. That’s important.”
“What they’re doing out there is important, too.”
“And it might not work,” she said. “I have faith in Will, but it might not work. We can’t just pretend that’s not a very real possibility. But this, right here, right now with Carly, is a sure thing. That baby’s going to need you whether the next few days work out like we hope or not.”
Danny sighed and leaned against the wall and stared back into the bridge. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I didn’t feel like such a steaming pile of crap right about now, that’s all.”
She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and the two of them exchanged a brief half-smile.
“Welcome to the club,” she said.
15
Gaby
She was thinking about Nate, about how much he must be hating her right now, when she heard him coming up. That shouldn’t have been possible at all—first climbing up the ladder behind her, then walking across the floor. She could even hear the rustling of the trench coat against the cold night air.
Gaby expected to feel sudden pangs of apprehension at his approach, but they weren’t there. Not at the beginning, and not when he slid against the wall across the closed loft door from her and looked out at the open fields that surrounded the farm they had taken refuge in. Moonlight filtered inside the stained glass window between them, highlighting the year-old bales of hay in the back.
His face was hidden under the hoodie, the twin pulsating blue of his eyes seeming to gleam in the shadows. The flaps of the trench coat hung at his sides, revealing flashes of the matte black fabric with the mesh stretch panels that covered him from the neck down. It looked like something from the future but was really just clothing worn by extreme sports athletes to protect them from crashes, with brush guards along the upper arms and absorption panels across his torso. Danny called it a ballistic jersey and had gotten Mae and a few others to add bits here and there, but the wardrobe wouldn’t stop a bullet or a knife. They did, however, hide his real identity as long as yo
u didn’t look at his face.
She did that now and couldn’t tell if he was comfortable in the clothes. They were tighter than necessary because they had to hang off his thin frame, but if she didn’t know better she might have just thought he was a lanky guy with a thing for black and brown leather. The eyes, of course, gave it all away, as did his face. But they had taken those things into consideration too, and he was only revealing parts of him now, to her, because there were no dangers of them being spotted by anyone else.
Gaby joined him in looking out at the long-abandoned farm, marveling at the lack of fear (she had expected something, but it just wasn’t there) at his nearness. There was no anxiety whatsoever, and not in a million years would she ever think she could be this comfortable with a blue-eyed ghoul so close to her.
But then this wasn’t just any blue-eyed ghoul. This was Will. If she were out there watching them, they could have just been two guards doing their jobs while Bonnie and Blaine rested below them. He even moved like a human, but she knew he had done that on purpose, to let her know he was coming. She had seen how fast and smooth and silent the blue eyes could move, and she had no doubts Will could too if he so chose.
“When did you get back?” she asked.
“Recently,” he said, the hiss like a sharp knife through the stillness of the barn, though for some reason it wasn’t nearly as obvious as the last time they had talked, back on the Trident. Was he going out of his way to lessen it?
“How did you know about this place?”
“I was here…before.” He turned his head slightly, as if expecting to see something among the shadowed parts of the hay behind them. “There was a girl and a boy… They’re gone now. There was a struggle and blood was spilled.”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t remember.”
“But they were here the last time you came through. They were hiding in this barn.”
“Yes.” He looked back out the window, past the film of dirt over the glass panes and at the nothingness on the other side. “Nothing lasts forever.”
I have a feeling we’re not talking about two kids who used to call this place home anymore.
Will was hard enough to read when he could still be read, but now, she didn’t have a clue what was going on inside that domed head of his.
Instead, she said what had been on her mind ever since he told them his plan: “You’re connected to them. The hive mind.”
“Yes.”
“That’s how you know so much about them. About him.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he? Where did he come from? Where did all of them come from? I wasn’t in the cities when it started, but I could see the results almost right away. Everything just went black in one night.”
The questions burst out of her in one long stream, as if she had been holding them back all this time, waiting for someone who knew the answers to come around. Not that Will seemed bothered by it or the fact that she barely took a breath before she got to the end.
When he didn’t answer or say anything, she continued: “You know, don’t you? Who he is? Who he really is?”
“Just bits and pieces,” Will said, “but nothing that makes a complete story.”
“How?”
“When he’s occupied with other matters, in other places, he becomes vulnerable. His defenses are lowered and I can sneak into his mind, see snippets of his past, some of his less guarded secrets.”
“Other places?”
“The rest of the world.”
“Right. Sometimes I forget we’re not the only ones out there.” She paused for a moment, then, “Tell me about him.”
“He’s old, and he’s evolved over the years. Centuries.”
“Centuries,” she repeated.
Will nodded.
“That’s a friggin’ long time,” Gaby said.
She didn’t know why she was so surprised, because it made sense, didn’t it? Did creatures that didn’t die even after you cut off their heads still adhere to the laws of aging? And those were just the black eyes. The blue eyes were an almost completely different species that she knew almost nothing about except that they were even more dangerous than their black-eyed counterparts.
“If he’s been around for so long, why now?” she asked.
“He had no choice.”
“What’s that mean?”
“We were poisoning the planet. He’s already lost the oceans. Soon, he would lose the land and the air, too.”
“How did he lose the oceans?”
“He believes that human progress contaminated the water, and that we were doing the same to the air and the land.”
“Contaminated how? It’s a big planet, Will. I’ve seen the water out there in the Gulf of Mexico. It doesn’t look all that contaminated to me.”
“I don’t know. Even when he lowers his defenses, I can only glimpse his surface thoughts. Everything else is buried too deep.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter. At least to us, right here and now. If this works, if we do our jobs, there’ll be people smarter than us who’ll figure all this stuff out years from now.”
He nodded.
“So he acted,” Gaby said. “The Purge.”
“The plan has been around for almost as long as he has, but as humanity grew and spread out, he was forced to adapt, to rethink everything. He’s been building the nests, around the world, in secret for decades.”
“And no one ever knew about them. How is that even possible?”
“He’s had all the time in the world to prepare. He knows where to hide, how to stay unseen. They don’t need very much. A drop of blood…a single body… They were content to feed on the dregs of society. The homeless. Runaways. People who wouldn’t be missed.”
“And then we screwed up the ocean.”
“Yes…”
“What about the rain? Why doesn’t that affect them?”
“The rain is purified in the atmosphere. But soon even that might not be possible as we continue to taint the Earth. We forced his hand, you see, and he had to act much sooner than he had planned. But the rate of infection took him by surprise. The cities were too dense, the people too crammed into one space. Despite his best efforts, too many were taken in the first night, and once the tide began it couldn’t be completely reversed.” A brief pause before he continued: “He always knew that when the end came, the bloodletting would be difficult to control without the safety nets in place. But he had no choice. The rate of human progress was simply too fast, and it was unyielding.”
She had so many more questions, but before she could ask any of them, something flickered in the corner of her eye and Gaby slipped farther back behind the rotting barn wall.
“Will…”
“They haven’t seen us,” he said.
There were three of them—thin, gaunt, sickly-looking things—appearing from around the side of the main two-story house across the weed-covered yard from them. She didn’t have to see the blacks of their eyes to know what they were as they leapt onto the front porch and vanished into the building through what remained of the door, now just a slab of wood hanging off one lone hinge. They moved through the house, skeletal figures flitting across the curtainless windows as they scoured the first floor before darting up to the second.
“I thought you said this place was safe?” she whispered.
“It was,” he said, looking out the window. “They shouldn’t be here.”
But they are, she thought, tightening her grip on the carbine and thanking God for the silver bullets inside the magazine. That helped to calm her suddenly frayed nerves, even though she knew nothing they had on them right now would be enough if they were discovered. Because there might have only been three out there right now, but there were never “just” the ones you could see. There were always more out there, waiting patiently to converge.
The hive mind. It’s that damn hive mind of theirs.
She watched the creatures moving back
to the first floor and knew that as soon as they were done they were going to come out, and there would be only one place left for them to search.
“Will…”
“I know,” he hissed. “Wake the others.”
She pushed off the wall without arguing and slipped across the moonlit parts of the second floor until she was at the ladder. It was old and rickety and it made too much noise as she climbed down with the rifle slung over her back before jumping the last four rungs to the hard ground below.
Bonnie and Blaine were asleep in one of the stalls, lying on pallets covered with old stained sheets and using their packs as pillows. It was pitch dark at the back of the barn, but it was easy to make out Blaine’s larger form from Bonnie’s.
She woke Blaine first, nudging him on the shoulder and whispering his name.
Blaine’s eyes snapped wide. “What?”
“Trouble,” she whispered.
She didn’t have to say any more. He was already scrambling for his weapon as she moved over to Bonnie and repeated the process.
It took longer to wake Bonnie up, and Gaby had to raise her voice just a bit too much, but finally the other woman opened her eyes and said, “It’s not morning.”
“Ghouls,” Gaby whispered.
“Fuck me,” Bonnie said, and hurried up.
“I thought he said this place was clear,” Blaine said as he snatched his pack up from the floor.
“He thought it was,” Gaby said, and thought, But nothing’s really “clear” out here anymore. I learned that the hard way.
“Where is he now?” Blaine asked.
“Up—,” she started to say, when a figure moved behind them and Blaine raised his M4 reflexively.
“Stay here,” Will said, and then he was gone.
“Jesus Christ,” Blaine whispered, lowering his weapon. “I’ll never get used to the way he moves.”
“What’s he doing?” Bonnie asked as she slipped on her own pack and grabbed her rifle.
“I don’t know,” Gaby said.
She exited the stall and dodged the slivers of moonlight filtering into the building from all the rotting wood and cracks along the walls. She got a shadowy glimpse of Will just as he opened the side door.