The Purge of Babylon Series Box Set, Vol. 2 | Books 4-6

by Sisavath, Sam

  It didn’t work.

  “I think he’s still alive,” Peter said.

  “He’s probably brain-dead if he is.”

  That made him go quiet, and in the few seconds that followed, she felt a pang of guilt.

  Jesus. What’s wrong with me?

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You did what you had to.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  She wasn’t the least bit convinced he was okay with what he had done to poor Mac, but Gaby didn’t know how else to comfort him. This wasn’t the time, either. They were still moving inside a building they had never been in, in a city that may or may not hold dangers they didn’t even know existed yet.

  Later. I’ll talk to him about it later.

  They were turning toward the third aisle when a scream pierced the air, coming from outside.

  “Milly!” Peter shouted.

  He was already running before Gaby could turn fully around. She hurried after him, just in time to see him shoving the glass doors open and lunging outside.

  Christ, she had no idea he could move that fast!

  Gaby burst outside onto the sidewalk after Peter, the M4 swinging up and sweeping the large parking lot for threats.

  There’s something wrong with this city. Dammit, I should have listened to my gut instinct!

  Everything was where it should be—the white truck and the two vehicles at the gas pumps. There was nothing out here that could pose a danger to them, so why were alarm bells exploding inside her head?

  But everything was where it should be—except for Milly. The girl was gone.

  “Where is she?” Gaby asked.

  Peter was whirling around, the Smith & Wesson gripped too tightly in his right fist.

  “Peter,” Gaby said. “Where’s Milly?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know!”

  The girl’s backpack was leaning against the curb. Gaby bent to pick it up when a loud cry streaked across the air, coming from down the street. Peter took off running in that direction with the same deceptive speed she didn’t know he was even capable of.

  Where the hell had he been hiding that?

  She ran after him. Or tried to, anyway.

  Another scream, this one just as pained and shrill, rocketing up the street and prompting Peter to run even faster. He seemed to know where he was going, where Milly’s screams were coming from, and soon he had abandoned the highway and was turning into a side street with long, smooth strides.

  Gaby followed as best she could. Gray and red and white buildings flashed by on both sides of her. Store and restaurant signs. Windows, some painted, others barren, reflecting back a streaking figure—her. Thank God she had tied her hair in a ponytail.

  She swerved around vehicles in the streets, keeping sight of Peter in front of her. He had somehow added to the distance between them.

  God, he’s fast. Where is all that speed coming from?

  She blamed her lagging pace on the rifle she was carrying along with the Glock in the hip holster. There were also the pouches around her waist, still stuffed with spare magazines even though she had dumped the ones for the AK-47.

  Milly’s voice, shouting, “Peter!”, coming from their left, and very close by.

  Without hesitation, Peter turned into the mouth of an alley. Gaby was on his heels, and she was surprised to see that Peter had slowed down in front of her. As she began to catch up to him, she could hear his breathing hammering out of him in quick, pained bursts, flooding the narrow space along with their pounding footsteps.

  There was a dead-end in front of them, along with a metal door that was opening and a figure darting through it with Milly thrown over its shoulder.

  “Peter!” Milly shouted, looking back at them with hands outstretched and eyes wide with terror.

  Gaby had never seen someone look so frightened in her life. Well, that wasn’t true. Her mind flashed back to the kids from Mercy Hospital being taken away in the back of the Humvees. She had failed to save those kids. She didn’t even know where they were at the moment or what had become of them.

  Not again.

  She didn’t know where she got the burst of speed, but suddenly she was running past Peter. Then she was halfway up the alley when the steel door slammed shut in front of her. She didn’t stop for one second. As she neared it, she reached out with one hand and grabbed the knob and twisted it and jerked the door back and slipped inside in one continuous, blurring motion.

  Darkness.

  It was pitch-black inside.

  She stopped, the only sounds coming from inside her chest and through her mouth as she struggled to breathe. She swiveled the carbine left, then right, then behind her. Not that it did any good.

  She couldn’t see a goddamn thing.

  Her eyes tried desperately to adjust to the blackness, but she could only see a few inches in front of her. It looked like some kind of hallway. She listened for footsteps, prepared to hear the soft patter of bare feet against tiled floor.

  Ghouls! her mind screamed. There are ghouls in here!

  Her finger tightened against the trigger.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, swallowed up by darkness, but it must have only been a few seconds, because the alleyway door opened behind her and sunlight flooded inside. Peter hurried through, his breath flooding out in long gasps. In the brief few seconds that the door was opened, she confirmed that she was inside a hallway with old walls, peeling paint, and a vinyl-covered floor.

  “Milly!” Peter shouted.

  His voice echoed just before he let the door slam shut behind him and they were, once again, swallowed up by the same black void as a few seconds ago.

  “Oh my God,” Peter said, his voice breathless.

  “What is it?” she said, keeping her eyes forward at…nothing. There was a big fat nothing in front of her.

  “The door,” Peter said, the panic rising with each syllable. “There’s no doorknob on this side of the door, Gaby. I can’t open it!”

  Gaby glanced behind her, searching out the door, trying to find the doorknob in the sea of nothingness. She couldn’t locate it, and the only reason she even knew Peter was standing next to her was the smell of his sweat and his out-of-control panting as he ran his hands over the metal door.

  It’s a trap. They led us right into a goddamn trap.

  She heard a click before a stream of light flashed across her face, illuminating the peeling and old faded multicolored patterns over one side of the wall. Peter, with a flashlight, swiveled the light back to her. She winced, and he quickly took the bright light away.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “You brought a flashlight?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “You’ve had it this entire time?”

  “I—”

  “The cave, Peter,” she hissed. “Why didn’t you use it when we were back in the cave?”

  “I…forgot I had it.”

  “Jesus,” she said, and looked away. “Never mind. Show me where we are.”

  He turned the flashlight down one side of the hallway, then swiveled around and did the same to the other side. There was a nightstand with a vase and dead flowers draped over the lid behind them. And beyond that, just a solid wall. The other side, on the other hand, showed an intersection about twenty yards further down, pointing left and right.

  “Can you hear her?” Peter whispered.

  She shook her head but then realized he probably couldn’t see. “No. Can you?”

  “No…”

  “There’s only one way to go. Can you find any windows?”

  He moved the flashlight along the walls. First one side, then the other. They only saw old, discolored, peeling wallpaper. “Nothing,” he said.

  Of course not. Because it’s a trap. They lured us in here.

  You idiot!

  “Keep beside me with the flashlight,” she said. “If I turn, you turn. Got it?”

  “Got it.”


  “Do you have your gun out?”

  “Oh.” She heard him pull the 1911 out of his waistband and cock back the hammer, the soft click sounding overly dangerous in the blackness. “Okay.”

  God, she hoped he didn’t accidentally shoot her. The chances of that happening had been pretty high back in the gas station with the lights to see with. Now, with only the flashlight, she had a very bad feeling.

  “Peter,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “See what you’re shooting at before you shoot, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said uncertainly.

  She sighed, then said, “Let’s go,” and started forward into the darkness.

  11

  Keo

  Lake Dulcet was a city of 23,000 or so people, about half the size of neighboring Lake Charles. It had a decent downtown and the surrounding areas were a concrete jungle like every other city. Despite the sun, it would have been a pleasant walk if Lorelei, who hadn’t said a word when they first met earlier in the day, didn’t suddenly transform into a chatterbox.

  The teenager talked about everything. The ghost city around them, the fact that they were walking instead of driving, or how she needed a haircut. Keo tuned her out the best he could, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

  “Can’t we get a car?” Lorelei asked. “There are so many cars around. Can’t we use one of them? I’m tired of walking. How long have we been walking? It feels like days. Weeks. Months. Right, Carrie?”

  “Uh huh,” Carrie said absently.

  Lorelei reminded him of Shorty. Annoying. Carrie was more like Zachary. Quiet, unless she needed to say something. Lorelei liked to talk, even if no one was responding to her.

  “Look, there’s a truck,” she said behind him now. “It’s nice. I like the color. Can we use that truck? Keo? Are you listening to me?”

  “No,” Keo said.

  “Carrie?” Lorelei said. “What about the truck? Can we use that truck? My feet are so tired. I think my legs are about to fall off.”

  “We’ve only been walking for three hours,” Carrie said.

  “It feels longer. It feels like months.”

  “Well, it hasn’t been months. Now be quiet for a bit, okay?”

  Lorelei sighed and lapsed into silence. Keo was able to once again enjoy the stillness of the city and their unhurried footsteps. They kept to the shades provided by the buildings while Keo kept both ears open for the first sound of pursuing vehicles.

  There were three trucks, likely more than two men in each one. Well-armed men playing soldiers. The uniform didn’t bother him, but the weapons did. He had the submachine gun, but he was now saddled with two civilians, which put him at a disadvantage. All it would take was one of those cars to stumble across them by accident and he was screwed.

  He thought about Zachary and why he was following up on a dead man’s promise.

  You really are the dumbest man alive, you know that?

  Carrie had walked up beside him. “She’s got a point.”

  She had light brown eyes, and despite the bruising around her mouth and cut lips, she was more attractive than he had given her credit for this morning. Like most women he had met since the world went to shit, Carrie had very few extraneous pounds on her, which helped exaggerate what he guessed was a generous B-cup under that white T-shirt.

  He looked away before she could catch him sneaking a peek. “What’s that?”

  “Why didn’t we circle back to the marina after the soldiers left and take one of those trucks? They looked in pretty good shape.”

  “They weren’t. I checked when I first got there. No gas, and the batteries are dead.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, listen.”

  She did. “What am I listening for?”

  “It’s quiet.”

  “And?”

  “Sound travels these days. Even if we could find a working vehicle, you don’t think your friends would hear a car rumbling down these streets? There are three of them out there looking for us. All it takes is one. Right now, they don’t have a clue where we’re going. That’s our advantage.”

  “Do we know where we’re going?”

  “South.”

  “I was hoping for a more concrete answer.”

  “South, until we fall into the Gulf of Mexico.”

  “Funny,” she said, then glanced up, shielding her eyes against the sun. “You think we’ll make it out of the city before nightfall?”

  Keo didn’t have to look at his watch before he answered, “No.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Two in the afternoon.”

  “You didn’t even look at your watch.”

  “I don’t have to.”

  “It doesn’t get dark around this part until after six. So we have four hours or so?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  They walked in silence for a moment. Behind them, Lorelei was loudly unwrapping something. A few seconds later, he got a whiff of one of the Teriyaki-flavored Jack Link’s jerky he had given them before taking off. One of the few foods he was carrying around in his pack from last night.

  “She’s eating again?” he asked.

  “She eats like a horse,” Carrie smiled. “Were you in the Army?”

  “What makes you think I was in the Army?”

  “You’re really good with that rifle.”

  “It’s a submachine gun.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “One’s a submachine gun, and the other’s a rifle.”

  She smirked. “So were you in the Army or not?”

  “Not.”

  “So how are you so good with that…submachine gun?”

  “Experience,” Keo said.

  “Were you living in the marina?”

  “I was lying low on the sailboat that they sunk. Me and a couple of guys. After we tested out the silver bullets, we were heading south down the lake. First Song Island to check up on it, then the Texas coast for me.”

  “What happened to your friends?”

  The same thing that happened to the rest of the world. Their numbers came up.

  “Bad luck,” he said instead.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yup, that’s about it.”

  She didn’t say anything after that, but he caught her sneaking a look at him every now and then. Not really at him, but at the scar along the left side of his face, very visible under the bright sunlight. Pollard’s good-bye gift.

  “What?” he said.

  “How’d you get that?” she asked.

  “I cut myself shaving.”

  “Must have been one hell of a shave.”

  “You have no idea.”

  They made it to the outskirts of Lake Dulcet around five. Not quite within the city limits anymore, but not quite in the boondocks just yet, either. Lorelei was still grumpy about having to walk, though Keo was impressed with her and Carrie’s stamina. With the sun already starting to dip in the horizon, he began looking for a place to hide.

  They walked under the open sky along a street flanked by ancient looking power poles. Trucks were sprinkled in the parking lots of businesses and industries around them. He glanced backward, remembering the suburbs they had passed an hour ago, and thought about going back. Last night’s run across the rooftops had convinced him he needed a place with a basement. Or, failing that, a place that could be easily defended. He couldn’t hope to survive in attics the rest of his life.

  “What?” Carrie said, walking beside him.

  “The suburbs,” Keo said. “I’m thinking we might have to backtrack to one of the houses we passed earlier. One with a basement.”

  Lorelei had stopped in the middle of the street. She put her hands on her hips and looked around. With her hair in a ponytail, she was actually a very pretty girl, if a bit too thin. The boots she was wearing that they had liberated from a shoe store a few kilometers back looked two sizes too big, but that was only because her legs were toothpicks.


  “What about that?” Lorelei said, pointing.

  Keo looked over at a large building inside some hurricane fencing.

  “The warehouse?” Carrie said.

  “No, the RV,” Lorelei said.

  It was a white recreational vehicle housed inside a garage with an open wall attached to one end of a warehouse. The RV sat in the shade, which only reminded Keo that he was sweating badly under the heat.

  Carrie glanced over at him. “What do you think?”

  Keo walked over and scanned the area. The grass inside the fence was burnt, mostly dead, with the occasional spots of weed. There were two, maybe three dozen groupings of gray cinderblocks, as if their owners had planned to build something in the wide-open spaces but never got around to it. Two swinging gates were closed tight with rusted-over chains and a large padlock. There was a gas station next door, its windows broken some time ago.

  “What do you think?” Carrie asked again.

  “Let’s check it out,” Keo said.

  The fencing was cheap and stood only six-feet high. It was easy for Keo to scale; he waited on the other side as Carrie and Lorelei did the same.

  “Couldn’t you just shoot the lock?” Lorelei said as she struggled up the fence one inch at a time.

  “Too noisy,” Keo said.

  “This is so hard…”

  “It’ll be easier if you climbed without talking.”

  “Whatever,” she said, and threw her legs over the top and dropped down into his arms.

  He set her down. “See?”

  She made a face and looked around them.

  Next, he caught Carrie as she came down. She was surprisingly light and he probably held onto her longer than necessary. He also noticed that her arms had conveniently gone around his neck as he lowered her to the ground.

  “Thanks,” she said, and actually blushed a bit.

  “Sure.”

  He thought about Gillian, waiting for him on the beaches of Santa Marie Island…probably. For all he knew, she had never made it to the island. For all he knew, she and Jordan and the boat were somewhere at the bottom of a river…

  Keo unslung the MP5SD as they moved across the wide-open spaces. Like the last five hours, the only sound he heard was a minor wind and their footsteps. The warmth against his face was growing unbearable, and he wiped at a fresh bead of sweat.