The Ashes of Pompeii (Purge of Babylon, Book 5) (9 page)

A flicker of movement drew her attention, and she didn’t have to turn very far to see a third man moving on the other side of the concrete divider, jogging up the highway toward them. The man’s head was bobbing up and down as he attempted to stay as low as possible, but he was doing a very poor job of it.

She twisted in her seat and shouted, “Get out the other side! Now now now!”

Then she was turning back around, opening her car door, and lunging out before she even realized what she was doing.

The other side, you idiot! Go out the other side!

Too late. Her M4 rifle was clutched tightly in her hands, though she didn’t remember when she had picked it up from where it had fallen during Danny’s chaotic struggle to regain control of the vehicle. As soon as her foot landed on the hard highway floor, she expected to pay for her dumb decision. When she heard the
crack!
of the rifle, instead of feeling pain in her chest, there was a
buzzing
sensation right next to her right ear. The bullet sailed past her and hit the roof of the car behind her before ricocheting into the air.

Two more shots rang out as she darted toward the back of the Nissan, the
ping! ping!
coming from behind her. She swore she could smell metal against metal. Maybe that was just her imagination, though she didn’t stop to ponder it. Instead, she grabbed at the top of the truck bed and used it to slingshot herself around the corner until she saw the back bumper and kept running until she was on the other side.

She was happy to see that Danny was on the highway and pulling Milly out after him with one hand, the other holding his beat-up M4A1. Claire and Annie were already huddled against the truck, using it as a shield.

“You okay?” Claire asked when Gaby crouched down next to her.

Hey, that’s my job,
Gaby thought, but it took her a few seconds to stop her racing heartbeat long enough to respond. “I’m good. You?”

“I don’t think I was hit.”

She looked past Claire at Danny, who was depositing Milly next to Annie. “Danny…”

“I saw two,” he said.

“I saw three.”

“Where?”

“On the other side of the divider—”

“Check.”

“—behind the white truck—”

“Double check.”

“And behind the red Chevy.”

“Didn’t see that one,” Danny said. “You still running around with just the holes God gave you?”

She managed a smile. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Crack!
A bullet punctured the front tire on the front passenger side of the Nissan. The truck dipped slightly just before a second shot rang out and the back passenger tire joined it.

“Sonsofbitches,” Danny grunted. “And I misplaced my Triple A card, too. Now how are we gonna get to Song Island on just two good tires?”

“Maybe we have some spares in the trunk?” Annie said.

Danny looked over at her, then grinned at Gaby. “Captain Optimism, this one.”

“I thought you were Captain Optimism,” Gaby grinned back.

“I’ve since decided to relinquish the title. It’s too much work—”

Crack!
A third shot cut Danny off, and they heard the
ping!
as the bullet pierced the other side of the vehicle.

It didn’t take long for Gaby to smell it: gasoline.

She dropped to the ground and looked under the car and saw liquid pouring to the highway on the other side. “Danny, they shot the gas tank.”

“Oh my God, is the car going to explode?” Annie said, her eyes wide with terror.

“You watch too many movies,” Danny said. He looked behind them, back down the highway.

“What is it?” she asked.

“They’re pinning us down. Probably because they have reinforcements on the way.”

“Is this why they haven’t been chasing us? Because they knew that sooner or later we’d run into these guys?”

“Yeah, looks like it,” he nodded. “These buggers are a lot cleverer than I gave them credit for.”

“Is that a word?” Claire asked.

“What?” Danny said.

“‘Cleverer.’ Is that a word?”

Danny chuckled. “I got a dictionary back at the island. We’ll look it up when we get there, kid.” He looked past her at Gaby. “Let’s hope either the Ford or the Chevy is still drivable, ’cause we’re gonna need a new car if we wanna get there.”

“How are we going to get to them?” she asked. “They have us pinned down, remember?”

“Normally this is when I tell Willie boy to come up with a plan, but since he’s not…” Danny didn’t finish. He shook his head instead, the frustration visible on his face for the first time since Route 13. “Goddammit. I told him that plan of his was shit. You heard me, right? But no, he always had to have a plan. Well, shit on my bread and rye. That didn’t work out too well, did it?”

Gaby wasn’t sure if he was talking to her, the girls, or…someone else.

“Danny,” she said. “What do we do? How do we get out of here? If they’re content to just pin us down and wait for reinforcements, we can’t just sit here.”

Danny blinked up at the sun. “At least the weather’s finally nice. I was starting to think this place had only two decent things going for it—bad weather and bad weather.”

There was enough of a cool breeze that none of them had started sweating yet despite the harried last few seconds. The sudden shift in weather, from insufferably hot to almost chilly, was a strange feeling because it was already making her think about sweaters, or a jacket, or maybe even some thermal socks—

“Hey! You back there!” a voice shouted. “Can you hear me?”

It was coming from the guy closest to them, the one behind the divider to their left. Thirty yards? Unless the man had moved further up since she last saw him.

Danny scooted closer to the front bumper of the Nissan and leaned out briefly, then pulled back a second later.

“Close?” Gaby asked.

“Twenty-seven meters, give or take,” Danny said.

Gaby did the calculations in her head. Twenty-seven meters was…thirty yards. Give or take. So she wasn’t too far off. That surprised and pleased her. Will used to say that combat was like playing sports—after a while, you got so used to the speed and chaos that everything started to slow down.

Too bad I can’t put this skill on my college resume. Harvard would have been so impressed.

“Did you see if they were wearing uniforms?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Too well hidden.”

“Hey!” the man shouted again. “I asked you a question!”

“Fuck off!” Danny shouted back.

They heard laughter, then, “I guess that’s a yes.”

“What do you want?” Danny shouted.

“You know what we want!”

“World peace?”

More laughter, though this time it sounded slightly forced. The man clearly wanted them to think he was enjoying this, that he had no worries whatsoever.

Yeah, right.

“That too,” the man said. “But what I’d really like is for you to throw out your guns so we can have a talk.”

“Oh, is that all you want?” Danny said. “Just to talk?”

“Exactly!”

“I’m gonna have to politely decline and ask you to kiss my ass instead.”

“Har har,” the man said. “You’re a funny guy.”

“You think?”

“Absolutely. That’s why I’m going to shoot you in the face, funny guy.”

“Well that’s ironic, because that’s what I did to your mom last night,” Danny shouted back.

The man went quiet.

Danny looked back at Gaby and grinned. “Too much?”

“Come on, leave the moms out of this,” Gaby smiled back.

“Yeah, that was definitely uncalled for.” Danny glanced at his watch, then back down the highway again to make sure it was still empty. “Can’t stay here forever, kid. If their reinforcements aren’t already on the way, it won’t be long now.”

She craned her head a bit and listened, expecting to hear car engines approaching at any second, but the
drip-drip-drip
of the gas on the other side of the Nissan overwhelmed everything. The smell was also getting stronger, which meant the entire tank was going to be empty, or close enough, soon.

“Danny,” she said, “what are we going to do?”

He looked at the girls. At Claire, crouched with the large shotgun, which appeared somehow even larger in her small hands. At Annie and Milly, the two of them with their arms around each other. If they were even aware of what was happening, Gaby couldn’t tell.

His eyes finally settled on hers. “You and me, kid.”

“Yeah…”

“And me,” Claire said, looking at Gaby, then Danny. “I know how to use this,” she said, clutching and unclutching the shotgun. “I saved Will’s life last night.”

“Yeah, you did,” Danny nodded. “But that’s a close-quarters weapon. Those boys are at least half a football field away—”

Crack!

All three of them ducked on instinct, but instead of hearing the familiar
ping!
of a bullet hitting the other side of the Nissan, there was instead just the echo of the gunshot.

“What the hell?” Danny said. “What were they shooting at?”

Before she could answer, there was a second
crack!
, followed by the
pop-pop-pop
of a magazine being unleashed on something. Or someone.

A moment later, there was just the silence again.

Danny and Gaby exchanged another look.

Even Claire, between them, looked confused.

“You take that side, I’ll take this one,” Danny said.

Gaby nodded and looked at Claire. “Stay here.”

“But—” the girl protested.

“No,” Gaby said, cutting her off. “One day I’ll teach you how to use this,” she said, showing her the M4. “For now, all that shotgun’s good for is close range. You understand?”

Claire nodded grudgingly. “You’ll teach me one day.”

“Promise.”

Gaby nodded at Danny, then turned around and moved toward the back bumper. She leaned out and looked up the highway. The white Ford was where she last saw it, about fifty yards up the road. The red Chevy was still parked across from it, but there were no signs of the men she had seen earlier.

“Anything?” she said, looking back at Danny.

He was leaning out too, when he pulled back and shook his head. “Squadoosh.”

“The guy behind the divider?”

“No signs of him.”

“What’s going on, Danny?”

“Hell if I know.” Then he sighed. “Stay here.”

“No,” she said, and lunged out from behind the bumper and into the open before he could protest.

Maybe it was a little bit courage, a little bit stupidity, or just a lot of adrenaline. Either way, she was sick and tired of hiding, of being hunted, and Gaby practically ran up the interstate with her rifle in front of her, eyes zeroing in on the two vehicles, looking for a head, a body, or just a limb. Something—
anything
—that she could shoot.

She was, she realized, just too pissed off to think clearly at the moment.

And Danny wasn’t trying to stop her. Instead, he had somehow hopped the divider and was moving up the highway at the same time and keeping pace with her, which was amazing given that he was limping the whole time, and she was pretty sure he was in extreme pain by the way he was grimacing with every inch.

“Don’t shoot!” a voice shouted.

It was male, but not the same one who had been trading barbs with Danny earlier. This one was coming from behind the Chevy.

Gaby went down on one knee and lined up her scope on the red truck. She was halfway to her target and wanted desperately to find cover, but there was none around her. She was out in the open, but at least she had her rifle. A year ago, the idea of dying with her weapon clutched in her hands would have been surreal. These days, it was the best-case scenario she could hope for.

She screened the car windows, looking for signs of a head—
something
.

But the man was smart and remained hidden.

She sneaked a peek at Danny and saw him moving steadily up the highway on the other side of the concrete barrier. He was twenty-five yards from the truck and getting closer, and it didn’t seem like the shooter had noticed him.

“Gaby!” the voice said.

The sound of her name sent chills through her.

What the hell?

Danny had stopped ten yards from the closest vehicle and went into a crouch. She could just barely make out the top of his head on the other side of the structure, but she knew he had reacted exactly the same way she had—confused and surprised by the sound of her name.

“Gaby!” the man called again. “Don’t shoot!”

“Who the hell are you?” Gaby shouted back.

“I’m throwing out my weapon!”

“Do it!”

An AR-15 skidded across the highway from behind the Chevy. It didn’t stop until it had gotten ten feet from the back bumper. A second later, a Glock followed, landing a few feet from the rifle.

“I’m unarmed!” the man shouted.

“Come out with your hands up!” Gaby shouted, trying to inject as much menace into her voice as possible.

She didn’t have a clue what was happening. Where did the other two men go? Was there some kind of gunfight? A betrayal? Was the last remaining man trying to surrender to them? Was this some kind of trick? If it was, it was overly elaborate, because the shooters had them pinned. They had all the advantage and this…this didn’t make any sense at all.

What the hell is going on?

“Gaby!” the man shouted again.

There was something in the way he said her name, as if he knew her. As if they were
close.
Except she didn’t recognize the voice.

Or did she?

“Yeah?” she shouted back.

“You don’t recognize my voice, do you?” the man asked.

Not a goddamn clue.

“Maybe!” she said instead. “Come out and show yourself!”

“Coming out!” he said. “Tell the guy behind the divider not to shoot!”

Danny stood up on the westbound shoulder and took aim as the figure stepped out from behind the truck, his hands raised above his head. She immediately picked up the camouflage uniform, with the familiar white star insignia above a name tag and a patch with the Louisiana boot on one shoulder.

The man walked toward her. The sun was behind him, and instead of providing the clarity she needed, the light instead turned him into a silhouetted figure whose face was hidden almost completely in shadows.