The Spears of Laconia (Purge of Babylon, Book 7) (38 page)

“What is this thing?” Jordan asked, pulling on the bars on another side of the cage.

“Probably a kennel for wild animals,” Keo said. “Or two innocent travelers, in this case.”

“Innocent, huh?”

“Innocent-ish.” He glanced at the sentries above them again. “Looks like they’re on high alert.”

“Mercer.”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen nine technicals in the same place before. Combine that with the LAWs, and it looks like we just stumbled into the middle of a full-fledged war. What they have going on out here with Mercer’s people is going to make what you and Tobias had to deal with back at T18 look like child’s play.”

“Wow, why is it every time you open your mouth, I feel less and less like we’re going to survive this?”

“Sorry.”

Jordan leaned against the bars next to him and tried to get a better look at the open doors to their left. “How’s your leg?”

“Still attached.”

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s fine.”

“Is that you being a tough guy?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, tough guy, so what do we do now?”

“We wait.”

“For what?”

“They kept us alive to find out what we know. Marcy’s deduced that we’re a part of Gregson’s tank crew, trying to go incognito.”

“‘Deduced’?” Jordan said with a wry smile.

“She figured,” he shrugged.

“So, what do we know?”

“Hopefully enough to convince them to keep us alive, at least long enough to make our play.”

“Which would be?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“That doesn’t sound very reassuring.” She walked to the back of the cage and sat down on a pile of old hay. “I should have taken Lara’s offer. The
Trident
’s looking pretty good right about now.”

He smiled to himself. How many times had he said
that
in the last few weeks?

“I don’t want to say I told you so,” he said, “but I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

She was suddenly very quiet, and Keo looked back at her. “Jordan…”

“What?” she said.

“Jordan,” he said again.

She looked up and stared back at him. “What, Keo?”

“We’ll be okay.”

“Bullshit.”

“I promise.”

She didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t sure if she believed him. Hell, he wasn’t certain if
he
believed him.

“Okay,” she finally said, and leaned back against the bars and closed her eyes.

He turned back around and glanced toward the open barn doors, wondering how exactly he was going to make good on that promise.

GABY

Didn’t we just
do this?

Nate sat across from her in the pitch darkness, Danny’s still form to her right. The ex-Army Ranger was asleep and snoring lightly, his head tilted to one side, the carbine he had gotten from Taylor’s stash lying across his lap. Nate was wide awake and looking back at her. Or she thought he was, anyway. It was hard to tell, because she couldn’t quite make out the blue of his eyes despite there only being five feet or so of open space between them.

It wasn’t fear that moved through her at the moment. Or, at least, not the familiar paralyzing effects that usually accompanied the onset of terror. She could breathe just fine, clench and unclench her fingers against her rifle without difficulty, and she had no problems feeling the slight vibrations that ran through the rotting wooden floor underneath the stained carpet as they moved around below her.

Tap-tap-tap.

Nate had heard it too, because his outline went suddenly rigid.

Tap-tap-tap.

They were traveling across the same places she, Nate, and Danny had less than an hour ago. There was no mistaking the patter of their bare feet moving over dirt-stained slate tiles, the
clicks
and
clacks
as they randomly bumped into items hanging off shelves or that had toppled in the year since customers stopped coming.

She slid one hand along the length of her AR-15 and slipped her forefinger into the trigger guard. The weapon felt overly bulky, but she knew that was only because she wasn’t used to it yet.

There wasn’t a lot of space in the attic, and most of it was already taken up with crates of plumbing fixtures, empty water cooler bottles, and unopened boxes of cheap plastic Christmas trees. The only thing they had found to be any use when they had searched it earlier, back when there was still enough light to see with, were two stacks of duct tape. And you could never have too much duct tape—

Concentrate!

The creatures were smart, but they could be fooled. Which was why they had parked Taylor’s truck six buildings down the street, then walked to the hardware store and climbed up to its attic. She would never have known the room existed if Danny hadn’t remembered it from all those months ago when he had raided the place for supplies with Will.

The
bang!
of the store’s front glass door slamming, followed by silence.

Five seconds became ten…then twenty…but she didn’t let herself relax until a full minute had gone by without the familiar
tap-tap-tap
coming from directly below her.

Close one. Real close one.

The sound of rustling clothes as Nate got up and slipped from one side of the attic to the other before sitting down next to her on her left.

“Sounds like we’re in the clear,” he whispered.

“Sounds like it,” she nodded back.

“Tired?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Just a little bit.” He leaned around her to look at Danny. “Is he really asleep?”

She nodded. “Like a rock.”

“A snoring rock.”

She managed a smile.

“You should go to sleep, too,” he said. “I’ll stay up, and you can relieve me around midnight.”

She glanced over at Danny, still snoring lightly to her right. He looked amazingly at peace, as if he were back on the
Trident
and not trapped in Starch waiting for sunlight as ghouls flooded the streets and buildings around them.

“Wake me up at midnight,” she said.

He nodded.

“I mean it,” she said. “Don’t pull any of that chivalrous crap on me.”

“Midnight. Got it.”

“Nate…”

“Hey, I want to get some sleep, too, okay?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. He tasted of sweat and dirt, but somehow, still sweet at the same time.

When she pulled back, he was smiling at her.

“What?” she said.

“I wish we were back on the
Trident…
”

She rolled her eyes. “They’ll be plenty of time for that later, lover boy.”

“Have you talked to Lara? About getting us our own cabin?”

“We’re not the only two people on the yacht, Nate. Everyone has to share.”

“There’s that room behind the engine…”

“The one we’re holding Gage in?”

“It’s about time we throw that guy into the ocean anyway.” She must have been unable to hide her surprise, because he added, “Being out here, with all that’s going on, it’s given me a new perspective.”

“I’ll talk to Lara.”

“Good. Now, go to sleep. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to think about all those other sexy times while you’re doing that.”

“You have my permission,” she smiled, and laid her rifle across her lap, before leaning against Nate’s shoulder.

For whatever reason, the steady rise and fall of his heartbeat to her left and Danny’s impossibly calm breathing to her right lulled her into a strange sense of serenity. Her bones ached and her muscles were sore, and she didn’t realize just how emotionally and physically draining the last few days had been until she closed her eyes and didn’t want to open them again.

*

“Gaby.”

She was asleep, but also awake at the same time. Like floating in a bathtub filled with warm milk, bubbles caressing the bottom of her chin. Soothing and calming, but at the same time dangerous, with the threat of drowning hovering over her head.

“Wake up.”

There was something familiar about the voice, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Like a faded echo, tempting her closer to the surface.

“Gaby.”

She opened her eyes to darkness and Nate’s outline in front of her. He was crouched on one knee, his arm extended forward and shaking her awake.

“What—” she started to say
(Too loud!)
, when Nate’s hand clasped over her mouth.

His other hand was already gripping his rifle and he lifted it now, pointing it across his body at the attic door. She had to look past Danny, still snoring quietly next to her, his head lolled to one side. He looked as if he might fall down at any second, but somehow remained upright despite the odds.

She didn’t dare move a single muscle as she listened while staring at the long rectangular-shaped trapdoor. Maybe she was still groggy and her senses weren’t up to full speed yet, but she couldn’t hear anything.

She glanced back at Nate for confirmation. He must have read the doubt on her face, because he gave her a slight nod.

“Are you sure?”
she mouthed.

“Yes,”
he mouthed back.
“Downstairs.”

She reached down and picked up her AR-15 with one hand and pushed Danny with the other. His eyes snapped open almost as soon as she touched him, and they darted in the direction of the attic door before swiveling over to her.

“They found us,”
she mouthed.

His lips moved as he began to mouth something back, but he hadn’t managed to form a single soundless word yet when there was a
crash!
from below, like a gunshot against the deathly silent night, but not quite as thunderous.

Danny snatched up his carbine and turned toward the door while Nate took up position in front of it with his bolt-action rifle. Gaby crab-walked backward, keeping as quiet as possible even though every step sounded like mini-explosions to her ears. She had always been thin, but the end of the world had excised any fat she might have had held onto from high school. Despite that, she was convinced she was moving with all the grace of a bloated whale as the three of them spread out to give each other as much room as possible in the already cramped attic space.

She didn’t stop backing up until she bumped into the boxes of Christmas trees, thankful there were no decorations inside to jingle or clink on contact. She positioned the rifle in front of her, and out of pure habit reached down with a finger to make sure the fire selector wasn’t stuck on safe.

Danny glanced over his shoulder and flashed her a wry smile. She saw it easily in the semidarkness, so maybe her eyes had finally adjusted to the conditions after all.

She nodded back at him, as if to say,
“I’m fine,”
but of course he knew better.

Danny returned her nod anyway before turning back to the door. “Hey, Nate Archibald,” he whispered.

Nate looked over, and matching his pitch, “What?”

“Switch places.”

“Why?”

Danny held up his rifle. “I got more firepower.”

“Oh.”

Nate scooted back while Danny went forward to take his place. They were incredibly quiet for two people moving around in heavy combat boots while slightly hunched over. Danny was settling in front of the door when he froze in place.

Shit,
she thought, when the very loud
clump-clump
of heavy boots moving around in the store below reached them clear as day. If the creatures hadn’t been able to conceal their presence while moving on bare feet, there was no chance at all whoever was down there could while stomping around in boots.

Voices drifted through the floorboards, but they were muffled for some reason, and she could barely make out the words. She did know with absolute certainty there was more than one person moving around
(very loudly)
below them. It could have been collaborators or some of Mercer’s people, though she guessed it was more likely the former. Only collaborators would so nonchalantly walk around at night these days.

Danny had moved again while she wasn’t paying attention and was now crouched on the far side of the attic door. He laid his rifle down and slowly, very slowly, flattened himself against the floor, pressing his ear against the dirty carpeting.

The voices from below were getting louder—but not necessarily clearer—as they drew closer. She wondered what Danny was hearing at the moment. Maybe he could actually discern what the men down there were saying.

Cla-ching!

She recognized the sound without having to think about it, because she had spent an entire summer behind one of them. That was a cash register opening.

“Dude, really?” someone said below them. It was a man’s slightly high-pitched voice and it was very clear that time. “What exactly is your dumb ass gonna do with all that cash?”

“I always wanted a new car,” someone else said, chuckling. “I should have enough to buy the whole thing cash on the barrelhead by the end of the night.”

“Leave that shit alone,” a third voice snapped. Another male voice, this one filled with authority. For a moment she thought it might have been Mason
(Nate’s right; we should have dealt with that prick when we had the chance)
, but no, this voice was much deeper.