The Walls of Lemuria

by Sam Sisavath

  They left the clearing, Keo expecting to see Joe back at any second gunning for them, trying to exact revenge for the relatives he had lost earlier at their hands. The Keo from six months ago would have just shot the kid after dealing with Levy. He remembered thinking the same thing when he had found Jordan and her friends in the bungalow.

  I really have gone soft. God help us.

  “You think he’ll come back?” Norris asked. “Joe?”

  “I hope not,” Keo said. “I’d hate to wipe out the kid’s entire bloodline. Too little of that left these days.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. I don’t think I could pull the trigger on the kid, either. What was he, eighteen?”

  “Looked about eighteen. You have any kids before all of this?”

  “I was married twice, but never managed to squirt out a brat. I guess that’s a good thing, considering what happened to the world. Otherwise I would have spent all my time trying to get back to Orlando. I’m way too old for that shit.”

  “Just like Murtaugh.”

  Norris chuckled. “Yeah. Just like Murtaugh. We’re both way too old for this shit, though Murtaugh had a family in the movies. That was one of his weaknesses, actually. The bad guys kept using his wife and kids against him.”

  “Sounds like a chump.”

  “Up yours,” Norris said.

  They picked up their weapons and carried the shovels with them back through the woods. It was a long walk, made longer by what had happened back at the burnt house. Keo tried not to think too much about it, but of course it was impossible.

  “What does Riggs look like?” Keo asked after a while. “If I’m supposed to be Riggs to your Murtaugh, I mean.”

  “Well, he was crazy, like you. Had a questionable past, like you.”

  “So I’m basically him, is that what you’re saying?”

  “He had a mullet, too.”

  “Ugh,” Keo said. “I’d rather be Murtaugh, then.”

  *

  He expected a fight with Gillian, but instead she listened quietly and didn’t interrupt once. While he talked, she helped him out of his shirt, then disinfected and treated the wound. When she was done, she grabbed a fresh T-shirt from one of the drawers in the back. It was either Earl’s or Gavin’s. It fit him just fine, and Keo didn’t spend another second thinking about whom it used to belong to.

  When he finished the story—he didn’t tell her where he and Norris had buried Levy in the woods—Gillian put her arms around him and pressed her head against his chest. “I know it wasn’t an easy thing for you to do.”

  “It wasn’t,” Keo said.

  “I know. You did what you had to. What you thought was right.”

  “What do you think?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. To me.”

  “Keo…”

  “Tell me.”

  She pulled back and gave him a pursed smile. “I wasn’t there. I didn’t see what you saw. With Lotte, with that kid Bobby…” She shook her head. “I’m not going to second-guess you, Keo. After all, the day I met you, you drove a truck through a hospital wall.”

  He smiled at the memory.

  “You’re crazy,” she continued, “but you’re also a good man.”

  “Am I?”

  “You don’t agree.”

  “I’ve never considered myself a particularly good man, no.”

  She watched him carefully for a moment, trying to read him, to understand him. She had such deep green eyes and she had let her hair grow out even longer in the last few months. He often joked that pretty soon she would look like Rapunzel, except with jet-black hair.

  “You are,” she said after a moment. “Whatever you did before all of this was before all of this. That’s in the past. Right now, I trust you. Okay?”

  He nodded and kissed her. “Okay.”

  “You look tired. Lie down and I’ll go grab some soup from the basement.”

  He lay down on the bed and listened to the door open and close softly after her.

  Keo stared up at the ceiling, thinking about Levy. About Lotte, who slept on the other side of the room. Losing the two of them on the same day reminded him why this leadership thing was for dummies.

  He’d never wanted it. Never needed it. If it were up to him, he’d give it all up tomorrow and go back to being the guy who did the work and clocked out afterward. He knew guys who took the job too seriously, who had nightmares about the things they had done for the organization. Keo had never been one of them because he had never really cared.

  Well, he never used to, anyway.

  He intended to stay awake until Gillian came back with the soup, but he must have lost more blood than he thought, because he was tired from head to toe. He closed his eyes for a bit, but was somehow snoring a few minutes later.

  *

  He opened his eyes to sunlight inside the room, which instantly set his mind at ease, and Gillian looking down at him. Soft hands stroked his hair, and his head was in her lap. He didn’t think waking up to the sight of her could ever feel so right, so at home. He had forgotten how beautiful she was, how perfect everything was about her, even that twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

  “Stop staring,” she smiled. “Although, I admit, it’s flattering—especially with that stupid grin on your face.”

  “Where’s my soup? Didn’t you promise me soup?”

  “It’s over there,” she said, nodding to a foldout table. “But it’s already cold. And yucky. I’ll warm it back up for you later and you can have it before dinner. It’ll be like we’re married, or something equally distasteful like that.”

  “Would it be so bad being married to me?”

  “Not as long as you don’t grow a beer belly and start fooling around with every floozy around town.”

  “That’s a lot to ask from a man.”

  “Well, marriage is a big deal. It requires commitment.”

  “True enough. What time is it?”

  “An hour before nightfall.” She added quickly, “Don’t worry. Everyone knows what to do. You’re not the only capable guy around here, you know.”

  “But I’m definitely the handsomest, right?”

  She shrugged. “Eh. Mark’s pretty cute.”

  “What about Norris?”

  “Too old.”

  “You don’t like them old?”

  “I don’t like them that old.”

  He smiled. “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

  “Don’t you dare.” She continued stroking his hair before finally saying, “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “You said that pretty fast.”

  “Because I don’t have any doubts about the answer,” he said, hoping it was more convincing than he felt.

  The truth was, he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

  Joe, Levy, Lotte…

  Did he make the right decisions today? Was letting Joe go the right thing to do? Killing Levy? Lotte’s death?

  “I almost believed you,” Gillian said.

  “You should, because it’s true.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m not an idiot, Keo.”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “You’ll do your best. And so will Norris and me and everyone else here. Jordan and Mark and Jill. But every night, they’ll still be outside our doors, waiting for us to make a mistake. Like you said, all it’ll take is one small mistake.”

  Like not dealing with Levy in time…

  She looked off across the room, and he knew she was staring at Lotte’s empty bed. He reminded himself to get rid of it tomorrow. It didn’t need to be there anymore. It was a reminder of what they had lost and, more importantly, the bad decisions that had led to it. His bad decisions.

  Live and learn, live and learn…

  “She was a good kid,” Keo said.

  “She was,” Gillian nodded. “Did he tell you how…?”

  “No,�
� Keo lied. “But he admitted he was responsible for what happened to her.”

  “God, she must have been so afraid at the end.” Gillian closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. “Six months, Keo. That’s how long we’ve been out here. It feels like an eternity, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.”

  “We don’t even know what’s happened to the rest of the world. What’s going on out there? What about the cities? The other states? We don’t know anything.”

  “It’s not our problem.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No. I’m just some guy who worked for some people with questionable ethics, and you’re just some girl who once worked for a bank. Norris is just an ex-cop from Orlando. Rachel, Christine, Jordan and the others…we’re just people doing the best we can to survive. What happens out there isn’t our problem.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hmm?” she said, looking back at him.

  “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

  She nodded and smiled, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him.

  *

  The days went on, minus Levy and Lotte. They left Levy’s room empty for two days, and on the third Keo decided it was time to get it over with. The sooner he got everyone putting the past where it belonged, the faster they could all pick up the pieces. Gillian wanted to wait at least a week, but Keo was adamant. If they wanted him to lead them, then he would, and that meant making all the decisions.

  He helped Norris clean Levy’s room out and moved the ex-cop in, along with Mark. He also moved into Gillian’s room, which meant everyone at the house finally had their own space and no one had to sleep in the living room anymore. No one was particularly enthusiastic about their newfound privileges, but he figured they would all get over it eventually, so they might as well start now.

  Every now and then, Keo wondered what had happened to Joe. Had he gone back to that cabin where he stayed with his uncles and cousin, and continued on? Was it possible to make it out there by yourself? Or did he join those neighbors he had mentioned? Did they take him in? Spurn him? Maybe he should go check on the kid one of these days.

  Keo put it on his to-do list, near the very back.

  *

  Eventually, Keo decided it had been a while since they had gone on a supply run. Not that the house was in desperate need of any one thing, but he didn’t like the idea of never venturing beyond their small corner of the world again. The idea of living like hermits was not very enticing.

  There was also the presence of Joe and his family, which had convinced him they weren’t nearly as alone out here as he had once thought. It wasn’t just Joe, though; it was also those two men in black assault vests that he and Norris had killed a few weeks back. The presence of those two still gnawed at him.

  “How many more of you are out there?”

  “A lot.”

  So where were all those others? Did they ever come close to finding their fallen comrades? He was pretty sure the bodies had never been recovered. Jordan said the river went all the way to New Orleans. That was a hell of a long way from where they were now.

  No, the others tracking the bodies back to the house for a vendetta wasn’t what worried him. What did, though, was the knowledge that they were out there.

  Somewhere. Doing what?

  “You worry too much,” Norris would say when Keo brought it up. “It’s a big state. The chances of them running across us by accident are miniscule.”

  “Like Joe and his family?” he had countered.

  That had made Norris think twice. “Good point,” he had said.

  It was a good point. So good, in fact, that it stuck with him and made him want to go out there again.

  CHAPTER 31

  Norris had his M4 in a sling, the rifle thumping against his chest as the Bronco rumbled along the dirt trail. Keo drove, as usual. He liked driving. It kept his mind from wandering. He was already doing too much of that lately.

  “Mark says he wants to come along one of these days,” Norris said.

  “Really. Mark?” Keo said.

  “Yep. Mark. I think he feels bad, especially since Jordan’s been going out on runs with you. It’s a manly thing, I guess.”

  Keo had a hard time envisioning Mark out there with him. The guy was good on a boat, but he hadn’t shown the same kind of proficiency with a firearm that Jordan had. In fact, none of the others had come close to her, including Gillian and Rachel. He wasn’t too surprised, though. Jordan was a natural athlete who had been going to Tulane University on a softball scholarship when the end of the world cut short her college career.

  “They’re fitting right in,” Keo said. “Especially Jordan.”

  “You would like her, wouldn’t you,” Norris said. It wasn’t a question. “She’s the female you, after all.”

  Keo laughed. “Is that supposed to be a compliment to me or an insult to her?”

  “Take it however you want.”

  “I’ll go with the compliment, then.”

  “I would, too. That’s a pretty girl.”

  “You like them young, old timer?”

  “I like them liking me back. I don’t think it’s going to happen with her, though. She’s not even interested in Mark, and he’s at least slightly more handsome than me.”

  “And younger.”

  Norris grunted. “Don’t remind me.”

  Keo saw the trail opening up ahead and the long stretch of empty highway on the other side. It had been three weeks since their last supply run, and Keo didn’t remember the road being this long.

  “How far are we going out this time?” Norris asked.

  “I’m thinking north, halfway back to the interstate—” Keo said, when the loud crack of a gunshot smashed into the air.

  He jammed on the brake instinctively, and Norris, not wearing his seatbelt, nearly sailed into the dashboard. Keo was lucky; he had the steering wheel gripped tightly in both hands and barely lurched forward.

  Norris opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get anything out, the pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire erupted from the house behind them.

  Keo jerked the gearshift and slammed on the gas and the truck shot backward. He used his side mirror to see with, but he was going so fast that the Bronco was swerving from left to right, right to left, each time threatening to plow into the woods on either side of him. Every time he almost came close to rear-ending a tree, he managed to wrench the steering wheel back just in time.

  “Jesus, that was close!” Norris shouted. “How are you so good at this?”

  Keo thought about all the hours of tactical driving training, the security details through gun-ridden neighborhoods hauling people whose lives were worth more than a thousand of him put together over a few thousand lifetimes.

  But he didn’t answer Norris because he was too busy keeping the steering wheel under control, absorbing every bump in the road, concentrating on every emerging tree and blade of grass swiping at the sides of the vehicle.

  Gillian. Get to Gillian!

  Norris was looking out the rear windshield, one hand gripping his M4, the other on the handlebar above the door to keep from flying out of his seat again. He didn’t say a word even as the pop-pop-pop and loud boom! of gunfire echoed back and forth behind them, getting closer with every second that passed.

  Keo drove with absolute focus, eyes on the side mirror, the truck moving so swiftly under him that he wasn’t really aware of how fast he was going. Forty miles per hour, maybe fifty, possibly even higher than that. He didn’t care because he still wasn’t going fast enough.

  “Watch out!” Norris shouted.

  Keo saw the same thing Norris did at the exact same moment: A man in black clothing (and black assault vest!) appeared out of the woods like a ghost, stepping into the road behind them. The man raised a rifle, and the very distinct clatter of an AK-47 on full-auto filled the air.


  Norris pulled his head down and screamed an incoherent curse as the back windshield exploded. Keo did the same thing—going down just low enough to avoid getting shot in the back of the head, but still high enough to see the side mirror and continue guiding his path back, back—

  Wham! He crashed into the shooter, and the man disappeared under the truck.

  Keo kept his foot hard on the gas, heard the thwumph! whumph! as the back then the front tire ran over a large object. He straightened up and looked forward just long enough to glimpse a black form lying in the middle of the road.

  They found us. Jesus Christ, how did they find us?

  He glanced back at the side mirror just as he almost slammed into a towering tree. He jerked on the steering wheel at the last instant and managed to dodge a close one. Norris let out another loud curse, but his words were lost in the squealing tires and constant gunfire behind them back at the house, getting louder and louder as they got closer.

  The pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire continued to ring out in a nonstop barrage, only occasionally broken up by the loud boom! of shotguns. There were too many sounds now—the roar of the truck under him, the crunch of tires against the dirt, and the shooting—for him to clearly make out what was happening.

  Then he saw the clearing coming up less than twenty meters away.

  “Get ready!” he shouted.

  “Do it!” Norris shouted back.

  As soon as Keo hit the opening, he pulled at the steering wheel, spinning it like a top. The Bronco obeyed reluctantly, turning in a wide arc, the tires fighting ferociously to maintain its balance against the ground. The view outside the front windshield switched from the trail over to the familiar sight of the house.

  The bullet-riddled house.

  Keo slammed on the brakes, shoved the gear into park, reached for the door handle with his other hand, jerked it, and dived outside in almost the same continuous motion—all of it made possible by pure adrenaline coursing through every inch of him. He prayed Norris was doing the same on the other side, and when he heard the passenger door opening, he got his answer.