The Spears of Laconia (Purge of Babylon, Book 7) (39 page)

“I’m just fucking around,” the second voice said.

“Do it on your own time,” the leader said. “Clear the store. We’re running out of night.”

“We’re never going to run out of night, man,” the first man said. “Always gonna be another one tomorrow, and the day after that, and day after that…”

“No, but I’m running out of patience, so get the fuck back on the clock. This ain’t no fucking vacation. You forgot about what happened yesterday?”

Gaby recalled the layout of the store when they were moving through it earlier, doing their very best not to touch anything. They’d even left the door unlocked and the windows uncovered, because the creatures knew if you moved something. She didn’t know how, but somehow they just knew.

Dead, not stupid, right, Will?

The store had a simple floor plan, with the front door opening onto four aisles of products. The cash register was at the very end, behind a counter, and the attic entrance, also behind the counter, was five feet from the register. She guessed that was so only employees could access it. The upstairs room was as long as the employee area below, and they were safe up here as long as no one spotted the outline of the door against the ceiling, even though Danny had made sure to bring up the pull rope.

She listened to the
clump-clump
of boots moving around below them, then the loud
crash
of a door being kicked in. That would be the bathroom door in a hallway to their left. More voices, once again garbled by distance and…something else.

Nate, in front of her, hadn’t moved, and neither had Danny across the room. The ex-Ranger still had his ear pressed into the carpeting, doing a very good job of ignoring the smell and filth that clung to every fiber of the rug. She hadn’t noticed it before, but it was cold enough inside the attic that she could see mists forming in front of her lips as she breathed in and out, in and out.

More garbled voices, mingling with the
clump-clump
of footsteps as the men below them started to drift into the background. Moving away, possibly toward the front door, but definitely away from them.

That’s right, go. There’s nothing here. Just keep going. Search the next building.

Keep going…

As if reading her mind, Nate glanced over his shoulder and smiled. The blue of his eyes was like a beacon drawing her in and calming her nerves. She guessed that he knew it, too, and was doing this for her benefit.

She returned his smile and thought about his request to get them their own cabin on the
Trident.
It was something she’d been thinking about too, especially since spending time with him meant sneaking around when everyone else was occupied elsewhere. But if Lara finally dealt with Gage, then that would open up an extra room below deck. She could even learn to live with all the engine noise.

“Almost home free,”
Nate mouthed to her now, except he was only halfway through “free” when there was a
bang!
, and the floorboard an inch from his body splintered and a bullet
zipped
through and punched a hole into the ceiling above him.

A small sliver of moonlight spilled through the hole instantaneously, highlighting a part of Nate’s suddenly pale face as he scrambled away from the spot even as the
pop-pop-pop!
of someone letting loose with a three-round burst from below shattered the silence.

“Fuck!” Nate shouted, launching himself away from the exploding floor with wild abandon. Splintered wood flooded the attic as he hugged the wall, pieces of shredded carpeting billowing around him like insects.

The first shooter hadn’t even stopped firing when someone else joined in. The second shooter strafed the ceiling, clearly trying to cover as much ground as possible, maybe somehow even tracking Nate’s footsteps. God knew Nate wasn’t exactly being quiet about his movements as he dodged the chasing bullets.

“Shit!” Nate shouted again.

Gaby scooted slightly forward, took aim with her rifle, and fired into the floor. She grouped her shots around the visible bullet holes in the carpeting, hoping to hit whoever was down there even as they continued firing up at them. She pulled the trigger again and again, the hammering of her gunshots like thunderbolts in the closed confines, each empty brass casing flickering and disappearing into the jungle of carpet strands. The crush of each discharge
boomed
inside her ears, but after a while they became little more than a buzzing noise in the background.

She was still shooting, spacing her shots across the floorboards, when there was a sudden flood of cold air. She looked up just in time to see the attic door swinging up, then a figure lunging toward the opening.

Danny!

He was there one second and gone the next, disappearing through the rectangular slot before she could even form his name in her head, never mind actually calling it out loud.

Danny’s disappearance was followed by a single
pop!
from below, then two more shots—
pop! pop!—
coming in such quick succession that all three rounds had to have been fired in the space of less than two seconds.

Then…nothing, except for her own ragged breathing to fill the silence. She kept waiting for more shooting, noises—
anything.

Nate had pushed off the wall and was trying to peer through the dozen or so holes that the shooters below had created and she had added to. She couldn’t tell if he could make out anything despite the streams of moonlight pouring through from the bullet holes below and above them.

“Anything?” she whispered.

He shook his head. “Can’t see shit.”

“Danny’s down there.”

“I know.”

Two more quick shots, followed by the very obvious
clatter
of a rifle skidding against the tiled floor below.

Danny!

Gaby scooted forward and spent a second trying to look through the bullet holes in the floor the same way Nate had done earlier, but the carpeting was too thick and they still covered up too much for her to spy anything on the other side.

When she looked up, Nate was already at the door looking down. He glanced over, saw the question on her face, and shook his head. “It’s too dark,” he whispered.

She hurried over to him, no longer caring about making too much noise. At this point, everyone
(everything)
who was in the area already knew where they were. She looked down the opening, realizing that Danny had never unfurled the ladder before he took the plunge. He had simply jumped down like an idiot, not knowing what was waiting for him down there.

Carly’s going to kick your ass if you die, Danny.

The silence inside the store below her had lengthened to thirty seconds…

…forty…

“Danny,” she whispered.

There was no reply.

She exchanged a look with Nate.

He didn’t say anything, but nodded back as if reading her thoughts and saying, without actually saying the words,
“Go for it.”

She smiled back at him, reveling in the fact that they could have a conversation without having to say a word. The last few weeks on the
Trident
had been some of the best nights of her life, even if they did have to sneak around most of the time. Not because the adults didn’t already know, but because there were also a lot of kids on the boat.

Looking at him now, his blue eyes calm and understanding despite the harrowing last few minutes when it probably felt like every bullet in the world was trying to kill him, gave her a flush of pride.

She returned her focus to the opening, to the sea of black on the other side.

Nate put a hand on her shoulder. The feel of his skin against hers, even through the thermal clothing, was warm and soothing, and a silent promise that he would be there, no matter what awaited them on the other side.

She took a deep breath and jumped down.

KEO

“How’s the face?”
Keo asked.

“I don’t know,” Jordan said. “Is there still an 800-pound gorilla sitting on my forehead?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Then I guess it’s better than the last time you asked. Which reminds me: stop asking.”

“I’m just worried about you.”

“Hey, it’s nice that you care, but once every hour is enough, don’t you think? Especially since we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. If we ever get out of here at all, which in this case is looking unlikely.”

“There you go, being all positive again.”

She gave him a wry smile. “I try.”

“Try harder.”

“Whatever.”

Keo pressed against the cold metal bars and glanced toward the closed front doors, their rectangular frames illuminated by the dipping sun on the other side. They had sealed off the barn an hour ago, followed by a flurry of activity outside. He had heard more than a few of the vehicles roaring to life before taking off.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he said, glancing down at his watch: 4:24 
P.M.

“How long have we been in here?” Jordan asked from the other side of the small cage.

“Three hours and change.”

“It feels longer.” She paused for a moment, then added, “What do you think they’re doing out there? Why hasn’t anyone come in to talk to us yet? I thought they were going to interrogate us for information.”

“I don’t know,” he said, and looked up at the ceiling. He could just barely make out the lone, silhouetted form through the wooden slabs. He wasn’t sure where the other one had gone, or when.

“I wish they’d get it over with,” Jordan said. “The wait’s killing me.” Then, “Sorry, wrong choice of words.”

“You’re right; they should have started in with the cattle prods by now. The fact that they’re leaving…”
Is worrying,
he thought, but said instead, “…doesn’t make any sense.”

“Cattle prods? They use that for interrogation?”

“Among other things.”

“Have you?”

“Among other things.”

“Jesus, Keo.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember how I was curious about what you used to do before all of this?”

“Uh huh.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Smart.”

She went quiet for a moment. Then, “Maybe they know we’re not who they thought we were. Maybe they found out about what you did at T18.”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. Communication isn’t what it used to be. Nothing’s instantaneous anymore. You don’t realize how futuristic we had things back in the good ol’ days, until it’s gone. Remember when they switched out textbooks for tablets in schools?”

“You kidding? I was ecstatic. No more lugging around five textbooks that weighed more than me combined across campus.”

He glanced back at her, leaning against the bars with her eyes slightly closed. She looked almost content—that is, if he didn’t know any better. Sometimes he forgot how young Jordan was. Like everyone he’d met on the road, she’d had to grow up too fast.

He turned away just as she opened her eyes.

“You think he’s still alive?” she asked. “Gregson?”

“I stopped giving a shit about his well-being the second he closed his mouth.”

“You’re all heart, Keo.”

“It’s my weakness.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“That’s easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Just don’t try to shoot me.”

“That’s all it takes, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Good to…” she said, but didn’t finish.

He glanced back and saw her leaning a little bit too much to the right, as if she might have fallen asleep in the middle of her sentence. He hurried across the cage and crouched in front of her, then held her chin with one hand and righted her head.

“The hell?” she said as her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

“I thought you might have lost consciousness,” he said, letting go of her chin. “You okay?”

“Didn’t we already talk about that?”

“Are you?” he pressed.

“I’m fine. The head’s pounding just a little bit. Okay, a lot.” She kneaded her forehead with both hands. “You said the truck flew after it got hit?”

“It flew, rolled, and crashed.”

“Yeah, I remember the crashing part. Well, not really remember it, but I can definitely still feel it…”

He put his hand on her forehead and felt the bump. It was more pronounced than last time, which meant there was a very good chance of a concussion. He pulled the strip of cloth he still had inside his back pocket, spat on it, and scraped at some dried blood clinging to the side of her temple.

“Ugh,” she said.

“Sit still.”

“It stinks.”

“It’s just spit.”

“I know, and it stinks. Did you brush your teeth this morning?”

“No, but I used mouthwash.”

“Really.”

“No.”

“Right.”

She stopped talking and stared back at him as he cleaned her. Maybe it was the lack of light inside the barn, but the brown of her eyes was surprisingly lively.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing,” she said. “You about done?”

“Close.”

“Hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled.

“What?” he said again.

“Nothing,” she said, but he noticed she hadn’t stopped smiling.

*