“Ex-ghoulfriend.”
“What are they doing, Will?” Gaby asked.
“The black-eyed ones are staying back along with the soldiers. It’s just the shock troops.”
“Shock troops?”
“That’s what this guy back in Dunbar called them. It’s not a bad theory.”
“What was that guy’s name, Brick?” Danny said.
“Bratt,” Will said.
“Ah, that’s right.”
“What happened to him?” Gaby asked.
“He didn’t make it,” Will said.
Of course not. What a stupid question.
Gaby heard a soft tapping noise and looked over at Lance. His fingers were moving nervously against the side of the AR-15 while his eyes had returned to the same patch of dirty wallpaper in front of him.
“Lance,” she whispered.
He glanced over. “Hmm?”
“You okay?”
He nodded and tried to smile. “Yeah. You?”
“We’ll be fine. Will and Danny are really good at this. Just do what we talked about, okay? Exactly what we talked about, and you’ll get through this fine.”
“Okay,” he said, and made another futile attempt at a smile.
She turned back to the stairs and peered down at the pool of darkness below, wondering just where her ability to suddenly bullshit with such conviction came from. She had never been a particularly good liar, but these days, lying came easier. She wanted to think it was because Lance needed the assurance, but maybe it was for her own benefit, too.
A click in her right ear, followed by Danny’s voice. “Gaby.”
“Yeah?” she said.
“You’ve never seen one of them before, right?”
“No…”
“Come take a look.”
Gaby stood up and said “Stay here” to Lance then jogged up the hallway toward the bedroom.
Danny peeked over his shoulder as she approached. “It’s time you find out what all the crazy kids are talking about. It’s a real gas, man.”
Gaby moved across the large bedroom, looking briefly over at Claire, Milly, and Annie huddled on the floor next to the king-size bed. Claire had the FNH gripped tightly in her hands, while Milly was lying across Annie’s lap, her eyes closed. Annie stroked the girl’s hair, the two of them finding comfort in each other. Claire, though, was all business. She caught Gaby’s eyes and nodded. Gaby smiled back at her.
She’s going to make a great soldier one of these days.
Gaby reached the window and slid against the wall across from Danny. They had left plenty of slots to see out through, with the biggest being a few inches wide. He pointed at the front yard, lit up by the moonlight. It was amazingly bright out there and she could make out a lone figure standing next to one of the trucks with the mounted machine guns.
The first thing she noticed was the way it stood—tall, like a human male. It also looked noticeably healthier than the other ghouls she was used to seeing, which usually made her think of loose flesh draped over skeletal remains. And its eyes. If she couldn’t quite make out the details of its body, she had no trouble seeing its eyes.
Blue eyes. Blue fucking eyes.
She always believed Will and the others when they told her about the existence of the blue-eyed ghouls, but maybe there was a part of her (a very, very small part) that was doubtful. But here, now, staring down the window at one of them—and being watched back by it—she felt a hollowness in the pit of her stomach.
They’re real. Jesus, they’re real.
In some ways, she thought she knew the world. Even after The Purge when she was confronted with an all-new set of realities, she had become accustomed to it and understood its rules: Stay out of the dark. Silver kills. Bodies of water. Now there was something new, and suddenly everything was upside down again. It was almost enough to make her want to scream and pull out her hair.
“There and there,” Danny said.
She followed where he was pointing and saw a second one standing next to the supply shack on the left side of the yard. And there, a third, perched on top of the same building. Three pairs of blue eyes glowed in the darkness.
Radiant blue, like diamonds…
“Three,” she said, her voice coming out strangely calm (Why am I so calm?). “You said there were four.”
He pointed again. “And heeeeeere’s Johnny.”
The fourth blue-eyed ghoul emerged out of the sea of black, moving with impossibly fluid steps for something that shouldn’t even exist. It was pulling a man behind it by a strap it held almost nonchalantly in its right hand. The other end of the line was wrapped around the man’s neck, like some kind of dog leash. The man didn’t struggle against his restraints or seemed capable of resistance. All the fight had clearly been beaten out of him.
The ghoul and its “pet” stopped about ten feet from the front door of the farmhouse. It tugged at the leash and the man staggered forward until he was standing beside his “master” before falling (gratefully, tiredly) to his knees. The man had distinctive red hair, the color providing an absurd contrast next to the black-skinned creature with the smooth black skull.
The man lifted his head and looked in her direction. Blood coated his face from forehead to chin, and he peered across the short distance through badly bruised eyes.
Harrison.
She always wondered what had happened to him after she pushed him out of the car. Now she knew.
Gaby keyed her radio. “That’s Harrison.”
“Yeah,” Will said in her ear.
“You’ve met him before?”
“No.”
“How did you know who he was?”
“It’s a long story.”
“The guy from Dunbar?” Danny asked.
“Uh huh,” Will said.
“What’s it doing with him?” Gaby said.
She had no love for Harrison. She hated the man’s guts. He had killed Peter, all because he “had to make sure.” That phrase haunted Gaby. They were such simple words, but there was nothing simple about the result.
“They like to play,” Will said through her earbud. “They played with Lance and Annie’s friends last night. And they were toying with us back in Dunbar, too. They called off the dogs when they had us trapped just so they could have more fun. It’s all a game to them. A sick, bloody game.”
“I’ve been telling Willie boy,” Danny said, “that if they like games so much, we should introduce them to Parcheesi or Monopoly. All the fun and none of the fatality. Win-win.”
The other blue-eyed monstrosities in the yard hadn’t moved. The one on the roof of the shack continued to stare in her direction while the other two remained perfectly still, as if waiting for the show to begin. There was an effortlessness about the way they just stood that unnerved her, as if they could stay in that pose all night and never have to move for even a second. It was so…unnatural.
“Here we go,” Danny said softly.
The ghoul tugged on the leash, and Harrison stood up obediently. Gaby braced herself for what she thought she knew was coming when the creature beckoned its captive toward it. Long, delicate fingers reached toward Harrison’s throat, and when they pulled away seconds later, the leash was no longer attached. It had freed him.
Why?
When Harrison realized this, he groped at his neck to make sure. He stared at the creature, then around the front yard, before finally up at the second floor. She wondered if he could see her and Danny peeking back at him through the slits. Maybe just her eyes. Was that enough? Did he know she was up here? For some reason, she hoped he didn’t. The prospect of her name being shouted out loud in front of those things made her shiver.
The blue-eyed ghoul opened its mouth and said something to Harrison. Its voice was too low for her to hear from up here.
Its voice.
It’s talking!
“Oh yeah, apparently they can talk, too,” Danny, seeing her reaction, said from across the window.
Harrison was backpedaling in the yard now. First slowly, then quicker, while glancing wildly around him. Then he did what she knew he would do—what she feared he would: He ran toward the farmhouse and straight to the front door. He disappeared under the window and a second later she heard loud banging from below.
Then Harrison’s voice, pained and panicked. “Open the door! Please, open the door! Let me in! You have to let me in!”
The ghoul tossed away the rope and watched Harrison. There was a look on its face, something she had never seen before on the creatures. It looked amused. She turned slightly and saw the same look on the faces of the other three.
They’re enjoying every second of it.
The loud banging continued for a while along with Harrison’s voice. “Please! For God’s sake, open the door! You have to let me in!”
Like hell, Gaby thought, when the banging suddenly stopped.
Harrison reappeared outside her window for a moment before whirling around, expecting an attack at any second. So did she. They were both surprised that none came. Harrison turned and fled up the yard. Then he stopped, seemed to be trying to get his bearings, before taking off again, this time running alongside the house and disappearing.
The creatures hadn’t moved. They simply watched him go. Waiting.
For what?
“There he goes,” Danny said.
“Are they just going to let him go?” Gaby asked.
He shook his head, and in a voice that was odd for Danny, he said solemnly, “No.”
The first ghoul to move was the one perched on the shack. It leaped off the building and darted off in the same direction that Harrison had gone. Then a second one took off, followed quickly by a third, until all four had vanished from the yard.
There was just silence again.
“What are they going to do to him?” she whispered.
Danny shook his head and didn’t answer.
A minute passed, and she was only aware of her shallow breathing.
Five minutes…
She looked across at Danny again, hoping to find some answers from his expression. There weren’t any. He was waiting and listening like her. Maybe he knew something more, but he didn’t say it. She was going to click her PTT and ask Will when a scream pierced the night air.
Harrison.
It was shrill and loud and seemed to go on and on and on.
She had never heard that kind of scream in her life. It wasn’t just that he was in pain. There was mortal terror in every second of it.
And my God, did it seem to keep going, and going…
She had difficulty reconciling that voice with the hardened man who had beaten Peter half to death (or if he hadn’t done it himself, had ordered it), then later tossed Donna out of the car to die on the highway. She wanted not to feel sorry for him, but she did anyway.
Gaby didn’t know how to interpret her feelings. Was it weakness? He was her enemy. She shouldn’t care what was happening to him. Or was it strength? Was courage being able to feel empathy even for your enemy? She didn’t know. She only knew that no one, not even Harrison, deserved what was happening out there at this moment.
No one…
She looked back at the girls huddled in the corner. Annie had placed her hands over Milly’s ears and the girl looked half-asleep in her lap. But it was Claire’s eyes that Gaby saw. The thirteen-year-old’s face was placid, unmoved by Harrison’s cries.
Click. “Gaby,” Will said in her ear. “I need you back at the stairs.”
“On my way,” she said, and walked quickly across the room.
She was glad to leave the window, because the further she moved away from it, the harder it was to hear Harrison’s continued screams. Until finally she was back in the hallway, and she couldn’t hear the dying man anymore.
Lance looked over at her. “They’re doing it again, aren’t they? Like last time. Back at our house. They’re doing it again...”
She didn’t reply. Instead, Gaby sat numbly back down at the head of the stairs, then flicked the fire selector on her M4 from semi-automatic to burst fire. She longed for her own weapon, or at least something with full-auto capability. At least she had silver bullets in her rifle again, so there was that.
“Remember: shoot them in the head,” Will had said.
Right. Shoot them in the head.
Easy enough…
The next two hours ticked by in silence, inside and outside the farmhouse. The lack of noise—or any sounds at all—was nerve-wracking.
Blue-eyed ghouls.
She could have lived the rest of her life without seeing them in person.
Not just one, but four.
Four!
She shivered again in the semidarkness and looked quickly to see if Lance had noticed. She shouldn’t have bothered. Lance had dozed off, the AR-15 positioned awkwardly across his lap. She thought about taking the rifle away from him. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up suddenly and start shooting. And the barrel was pointed right at her, too…
The neon hand of her watch ticked to 10:16 p.m.
Not even close to sunrise. When did the sun come out last time? Around seven?
All we have to do is survive nine more hours.
Oh, that’s it?
The clicking noise in her right ear made her jump slightly. “What’s the word, daddy bird?” Danny said through the comm.
“Jack shit,” Will said.
“How long does it take to eat Harrison? The guy was kind of thick around the ankles. An hour? Two?”
“Oh, nice.”
“What? Too soon?”
“Way too soon.”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t like we really knew the guy. You know what they say about gingers.”
Tap.
Gaby’s eyes darted up to the ceiling.
Tap tap.
She reached down and squeezed the Push-to-Talk switch connected to her radio. “I hear something.”
“Sorry, kid, I tried to hold it in,” Danny said.
“No, above us.”
“What was it?” Will asked.
“Footsteps. I think.”
She looked across the hallway and saw Danny, still stationed at the window, craning his head upward toward the ceiling.
Tap tap.
“I hear it,” Danny said.
“Ignore it,” Will said. “They’re just probing the roof, looking for a weak spot.”
“What if they find it?” she asked.
“Then we’re shit out of luck with a fist full of ham sandwiches,” Danny said.
Gaby listened intently to the noise above her when it suddenly stopped.
She breathed a little easier.
They’re probing. That’s all. They’re just probing for weaknesses.
“Gaby,” Will said in her ear.
“Yes…”
“Stay where you are. You’re in the perfect spot right now. And wake Lance up.”
She smiled. “How’d you know?”
“He’s not one of us.”
Gaby felt a flush of pride. “One of us.” Her, Danny, and Will. The three of them. In this post-Purge world, it meant the world for him to include her.
She turned to Lance and put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight nudge.
He opened his eyes and snapped awake, looking around before locating her through his groggy haze. “What’s happening?”
“You were asleep.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his eyes, then wrapped his hands back around his rifle as if it were his lifeline. The barrel was still pointed at her…
Gaby turned back to the stairs. Or the pitch blackness at the other end. She could really see only the first half dozen or so steps, with the rest hidden in the shadows.
“Heads up,” Danny said in her ear.
“I see it,” Will said.
Gaby glanced to her left, past Lance and into the open bedroom door at Danny. He had taken a step away from the window and had lifte
d his M4A1 slightly.
“Danny,” Gaby said out loud. “What’s happening?”
“They’re back,” he said through her earbud.
“The blue-eyed ones?”
“Ol’ blue eyes. Maybe they want to serenade us. Sing us to death.” Then he added, his voice rising noticeably, “Shit.”
“What is it?” Will said through the comm.
“I only see two of them.”
“Find the other two—”
Something that sounded like an explosion rang out, drowning out Will’s voice. Gaby moved on instinct, diving further up the hallway, away from the stairs, just as the first pieces of rubble came tumbling down from above her.
The roof. It was caving in on them.
“Lance!” she shouted.
He was struggling to his feet, legs wobbly from sitting too long, and hadn’t straightened all the way up before the roof crashed down on top of him. He let out something that sounded like a scream (A squeal?) before he was pummeled by falling slate tiles. One of them broke over Lance’s head and he stumbled, somehow managing to brace himself against the wall, as more roofing material flooded down on top of him one by one by one.
Then it came down.
It.
One of the creatures. It fell down from the sky like some archangel, minus the wings and halo and good intentions, landing in a crouch next to Lance. It straightened up, its body impossibly long, spindly arms and legs extending in what little light was available in the second-floor hallway.
Glowing blue eyes searched her out, and finding her, zeroed in.
It was gripping something long and shiny in one of its hands. Moonlight glinted off the smooth surface of a sledgehammer.
“Gaby!” Will shouted in her ear.
She was too busy scrambling back up to her feet to respond. She didn’t think and didn’t waste a second. She simply reacted, lifting the M4 and pulling the trigger. The carbine bucked in her hands and the sound of the three-round burst in the close confines of the hallway was like three powerful thunder strikes, one after another.
Her aim was true, and she hit it with all three rounds in the chest.
But it didn’t go down.
It didn’t go down.
Instead, it looked back at her and grinned before tossing the sledgehammer away. Then it took a step forward. Pow! A bullet hit the creature from behind. That same bullet punched through flesh and zipped past her head before disappearing into the wall behind her. Slurping noises as thick, coagulated black blood burst out of the fresh hole in the thing’s neck and splashed with a sickening plop against the floor.
The Purge of Babylon Series Box Set, Vol. 2 | Books 4-6 Page 46