Rooster

by Sam Sisavath

  “Everyone that made it down here,” Pressley nodded.

  “Down here? So we are underground?”

  “Supposed to be some kind of old bomb shelter. Winston’s people have been using it since The Purge.”

  “Winston?”

  “The guy in charge.”

  “Where…?”

  “He’s dead. I shot him.”

  “Good. That’s good. One less to worry about.” He turned his full attention to Keo. “What happened to you? I woke up and you were gone.”

  “Why, did you miss me?” Keo asked.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call it that.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Answer the fucking question.”

  Keo shrugged. “They took me to see Winston.”

  “And then?”

  “And then he got dead. What does it matter ‘and then?’”

  Greengrass chuckled. “I guess it doesn’t, does it? Dead’s dead.”

  Not these days, Keo thought, but didn’t bother to say it out loud.

  Greengrass turned to Pressley. “It’s time we put Keo out of his misery. Go open the door.”

  “What?” Pressley said.

  “The door. Open it and let them in.”

  Pressley stared at him as if she thought he was joking, and didn’t move.

  But of course Greengrass wasn’t kidding. “Janet, go open the door and let them in.”

  “Let them in?” Pressley said.

  Greengrass nodded and managed a little smile. “It’ll be okay. They’re not going to do anything as long as I’m here. Stay by my side, and everything will be fine.” He pointed at Keo with his gun. “Him, on the other hand—not so much.”

  Pressley looked over at Keo, and there was something on her face that looked almost like…what? Sadness? Regret?

  Is it possible Ms. Do It has a heart after all?

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust a monster?” Keo asked. “After the last six years, I’d thought that was a lesson everyone’s learned the hard way.”

  “I don’t trust it,” Greengrass said. “I work with it. There’s a difference.”

  “Not when it’s got its teeth over your neck.”

  “It’s not going to do that. It knows me. It knows what we’re here to do.” He nodded at Keo. “You. It knows we’re out here to help it catch you.”

  “Until it decides it’d rather use you and Pressley as a snack.”

  Greengrass chuckled. “You have no idea, do you? What it is? What it’s doing out there?”

  “I know exactly what it’s doing out there,” Keo said.

  “Not out there, now, smartass. I’m talking about the big picture. You don’t have a clue. Not a whit. There’s a grand plan happening that you don’t even know exists. It’s kind of sad, really.”

  “Yeah, it is. So feel free to fill me in. Help make me less sad.”

  “No, I don’t think I will. You don’t need to know. It’s too bad, because I think you’d appreciate the scope—the complexity—of it. Buck’s been working hard to put it all together. Years of work, getting it ready.”

  “Buck and Copenhagen?”

  “Mostly Buck. He’s always been the real brains of the operation.”

  “Too bad he’s got a two-bit name.”

  Greengrass grinned. He didn’t look insulted, just amused. “I’ll tell him you said that, since you won’t be there to do it yourself.”

  “Are you one of them?”

  “That depends on what ‘them’ is.”

  “A Mercerian.”

  “Ah. But no, I never had the privilege of knowing Mercer.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call that a privilege…”

  “That’s a matter of opinion. I’ve heard nothing but good things. Buck speaks about him with high regard.”

  “He didn’t look all that special or highly regarded to me. But then again, the last time I saw him, his brains were splattered all over the floor.”

  Greengrass narrowed his eyes, and Keo could see the pieces falling into place. “You. You were the one who killed Mercer on that island.”

  “That’s me,” Keo said, and did a Ta da! gesture with his hands.

  “Buck didn’t mention that…”

  “No?”

  Greengrass shook his head.

  “I wonder why,” Keo said. “Maybe you guys aren’t nearly as tight as you think.”

  “No, that’s not it. He tells me what I need to know. If he didn’t mention it, then I didn’t need to know it.”

  “My, my, aren’t we the trusting type.” Keo turned to Pressley. “What about you, Pressley? You good with Buck not telling you guys all about me?”

  Pressley didn’t answer, but Keo thought he could see a little uncertainty in her eyes.

  “Don’t listen to him, Janet,” Greengrass said. “You did good.”

  “He saved my life,” Pressley said.

  She had said it without prompt, like it was something that had been roiling around in her head and she unconsciously blurted it out. But that wasn’t the case, because she was looking at Greengrass when she spoke.

  “What did you just say?” Greengrass asked.

  “Keo. He saved my life.” She glanced over at Keo before turning back to Greengrass a second later. “Winston gave him the opportunity to kill me, to prove that he wasn’t one of us. It was the easy road for him, but he didn’t take it. He saved my life, Jacob. I owe him.”

  Greengrass sighed and shot Keo an almost accusing look, as if it were Keo making Pressley say everything that was coming out of her mouth.

  Keo gave him a Hey, don’t blame me shrug, but he kept his lips sealed. Something was happening here, something good for him, and Keo didn’t want to stop it in its tracks. And that was exactly what would have happened if he started blabbing.

  “Orders are orders, kid,” Greengrass said to Pressley. “We came here to do one thing, and one thing only. We can go home after this. Back to Fenton. But we have to finish the job first.”

  “He saved my life,” Pressley said.

  “Stop saying that,” Greengrass said, the annoyance in his voice coming through loud and clear.

  “It’s the truth, Jacob.”

  “Whatever he did, it was to save his own skin. Trust me on this, kid, I know guys like him. I’ve crossed paths with hundreds of them. They’ll do and say whatever it takes to save themselves, because that’s all they care about.”

  Now that’s just rude, Keo thought, even as he sneaked a peek over at Brett “sitting” to his right.

  Keo had glimpsed it earlier, but couldn’t be one hundred percent certain because he didn’t want to stare at it for too long for fear of being caught. But now, with Greengrass and Pressley focusing intently on one another, he finally had his opportunity.

  Brett hadn’t escaped the outside world with just a rifle and pistol as Keo had first thought—he had a black six-shot revolver stuffed into the back of his waistband. Under the weak halogen lights scattered about the hallway, the hidden piece was almost invisible against his dark jeans and blue shirt. The only reason Keo could make it out, but Pressley had missed it, was because of the dead teenager’s odd posture, like a monk in deep meditation.

  Five feet. That was all that separated him from the gun, except Keo was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t reach it in time. As bad as Greengrass looked, all it would take was two seconds, tops, for him to lift his Glock and shoot Keo dead. He wouldn’t even need to move any other part of his body except his right hand, and he had already proven how steady that hand was. Even now, the Bucky held the pistol in his lap, his forefinger near the trigger.

  Would Greengrass remember his orders—his only order, to capture Keo alive for the blue-eyed ghoul—in the heat of the moment and shoot to wound? Greengrass and Pressley looked like shit with all their broken bones and bullet holes, and Keo wasn’t too interested in joining their ranks.

  So where does that leave you, pal?

  Shit. I wish I k
new.

  He refocused his attention on Greengrass and Pressley. They were still staring at one another. Or Greengrass was, while Pressley looked very much like a daughter trying not to wilt under her father’s intense gaze.

  Stay strong, Pressley. Stay strong…or I’m dead!

  “I’m sure you’re right, he did it for himself,” Pressley was saying. “But he still did it, and I’m alive because of him.”

  “We have orders, Janet,” Greengrass said. “It came from Buck himself. You know that.”

  “I know…”

  “So do your job. Go open that door and let them in. Get this over with, and we can go home.”

  Pressley didn’t answer, but she did look down the hallway at Keo again. It was a long, lingering look this time.

  “Janet, look at me,” Greengrass said, and Keo could hear the noticeable shift from hard to soft in his voice. Greengrass was changing tactics to better get to Pressley. “I need you to go open the door for me, okay? Everyone’s dead except us. It’s just the two of us now, Janet. Don’t let their deaths be in vain. Let’s get it done, and let’s go home. Okay? Janet? Okay?”

  Keo couldn’t decide if Greengrass just couldn’t get back up and do the job himself, or if he wanted Pressley, for whatever reason, to do it. Maybe it was his way of reasserting his authority over her, or maybe he really just didn’t have the strength to get up again and walk the short distance and pull that very, very heavy door open by himself.

  At the moment, Keo didn’t care why Greengrass remained sitting against the wall because he could see it in Pressley’s face. She was losing. Greengrass was winning her over, little by little, and her resolve was slowly fading.

  Which meant he was losing, too.

  “Janet,” Greengrass was saying. “Let’s get this done, and let’s go home. We can start over. Rebuild the team. You and me, kid. Together.”

  Damn, he’s convincing, Keo thought, and glanced quickly at the revolver behind Brett’s waistband again.

  Five feet. Five friggin’ feet!

  Why couldn’t it be five inches?

  Why, why, why?

  Across from him, Greengrass was smiling at Pressley as she stood up. “Let’s get the hell outta here, kid. Let’s go home.”

  “Let’s go home,” Pressley nodded.

  Keo lunged for the gun behind Brett’s back.

  “Don’t!” someone screamed. Keo wasn’t sure who it was—Greengrass or Pressley—or even who it was directed at, and at that very second, he didn’t give a damn.

  He stuck out his right hand toward Brett’s sitting form, his fingers extending. Five feet became one in the blink of an eye, and he was almost there—

  The bang! of a gunshot filled the hallway.

  Eighteen

  The first gunshot was earsplitting, but he was prepared for it. It was the second bang! that caught him by surprise.

  After that, there was silence except for the voice shouting in Keo’s head.

  Jesus, I’m still alive!

  How am I still alive?

  Jesus, I’m still alive!

  He scrambled frantically to his knees, Brett’s revolver gripped tightly in his right fist. Brett himself had completely toppled forward, face-first into the hard floor after Keo pulled the weapon out from behind his waist. Keo lifted the pistol, pointing it up the hallway, his finger on the trigger—

  He didn’t shoot, because there was no danger.

  It was over before it even started.

  He located Greengrass first. The Bucky was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall where Keo last saw him. The Glock he had used to blow Brett’s and Scarlett’s brains out lay across his lap, still gripped in his right hand. His left palm was pressed against his stomach, where blood slipped between his fingers.

  Fresh blood. Very fresh.

  Greengrass didn’t give any indications that he even noticed Keo had armed himself or was pointing a gun at him. In fact, he didn’t look as if he even knew Keo still existed. Instead, he stared forward, blinking through beads of sweat at Pressley.

  She stood across from Greengrass, leaning against the opposite wall. Pressley had her own pistol in her hand, but it hung loosely at her side, and Keo thought the gun would slide right through her fingers given how weakly she was holding it. Pressley’s face mirrored Greengrass’s stunned expression as she reached back and groped for the wall, then slid down to sit on the floor. Clack, as she finally let go of the gun and it landed next to her.

  Keo stood up and checked himself for wounds. There wasn’t any because they hadn’t been shooting at him. Neither one of them. He had heard two shots, and one had come from Pressley, which explained the blood pumping out of Greengrass’s stomach. As for the other one…?

  There, a small crater in the wall a foot above Pressley’s head that hadn’t been there before. A bullet hole.

  “Pressley,” Keo said.

  She turned her head in his direction. Slowly, like it took a lot of effort. But he didn’t think it was anything related to pain that made her move in almost slow motion. It was the fact she’d just shot Greengrass…to save him. Pressley hadn’t gotten off unscathed. A fresh trickle of blood ran down the length of her left arm, the wetness just barely visible against the black fabric of her long-sleeve shirt.

  “You alive?” Keo asked her.

  Pressley didn’t answer him. Instead, she looked back at Greengrass.

  Keo did, too, before walking over to his unmoving body. He pried the gun out of Greengrass’s grip and tossed it up the corridor. Greengrass’s eyes remained fixed on Pressley, the way hers were on him. Not exactly a staring contest, but more of a...what?

  “You shot me. I can’t believe you shot me.”

  Something along those lines.

  Keo moved the short distance over to Pressley. He crouched in front of her and checked her wound. It was a through-and-through, which explained the big divot in the wall above her head.

  “Damn, Pressley, you’re bleeding like a faucet,” Keo said.

  Pressley didn’t respond. She might not have even heard him that time.

  The wound wasn’t too bad. The bullet had missed bone, but her arm was still leaking pretty good. He spent the next few minutes trying to keep Pressley from losing any more of the precious fluid. It was out of gratitude for her going against Greengrass to save his life…and because he might still need an extra gun to get the hell out of Cordine City later. Greengrass, on the other hand, Keo couldn’t care less about, and if the man died while he was busy keeping Pressley from bleeding to death, then that was one less problem for him to settle.

  Keo tore off strips of cotton fabric from Brett’s shirt and used them to make a field tourniquet for Pressley. She winced and made a pained sound when he tightened the makeshift bandage around her arm, then spent some extra time re-bandaging her leg to keep it from losing more blood.

  Pressley never moved the entire time, and neither did Greengrass, as far as Keo could tell. He glanced over at the man twice just to make sure he didn’t go for one of the many guns lying around in the hallway waiting to be picked up. And when Keo didn’t visually check up on him, he kept his ears open.

  But Greengrass was still and silent throughout, and Keo found out why when he stood up and looked over one last time. The older Bucky’s head was lolled to one side and his hand, covered up to the wrist in blood, had fallen away from his stomach with the palm facing up. His eyes were closed, the sheen of sweat over his face even thicker and shinier despite the pale lights.

  Daebak. Didn’t see that coming.

  He wasn’t seeing a lot of things coming today. First with Winston, and now with Greengrass.

  Not that I’m complaining.

  Keo walked over and checked the man’s vitals just to be safe.

  Dead.

  So that’s what it takes to kill you, Greengrass. Your own team member.

  Good to know, good to know…

  Keo was standing back up when the lights went off. No
t one at a time—but every single one at once.

  Darkness.

  Total darkness all around him.

  Well, that’s not good.

  He wasn’t too surprised that whatever Winston’s people were using to power the lights had finally given up. In fact, he’d been waiting for it to happen much sooner, and now that he thought about it, it was actually amazing the electricity had lasted this long since the siege began.

  Keo stood in the pitch blackness for a few silent minutes, letting his eyes slowly adjust to their new environment. Pressley’s slightly elevated breathing next to him easily dominated his own, and the shooting from outside had seemed to have drifted so far away from their position that it took a lot of effort just to still hear them.

  “Keo,” a voice said. Pressley.

  Keo turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

  “What happened?”

  “Lights went off.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Can you?”

  “Smartass.”

  He grinned.

  “Is he dead? Jacob?” Pressley asked.

  Keo glanced back, not that he could really see Greengrass all that well in the darkness. “Yeah. He’s dead.”

  “Are you sure this time?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure this time.”

  Keo walked over and sat down next to her. Brett’s and Scarlett’s bodies were somewhere to his left, far enough that Keo wouldn’t risk coming into contact with their, by now, clammy flesh in the dark. It wasn’t that he was squeamish around dead bodies, but that didn’t mean he liked touching them when he could avoid it.

  They sat in silence for a minute before he finally said, “Thanks. I know it wasn’t an easy thing for you to do.”

  “It wasn’t,” Pressley said quietly.

  “I’m sorry you had to make that choice. But as a selfish asshole, I’m glad you did.”

  “You’re right, you are an asshole.”

  He smiled. “I’d love to say you were the first person to call me that, but I’d be lying. You’re not even the first woman.”