The Stones of Angkor (Purge of Babylon, Book 3) (15 page)

“There’s a lot.”

“And they’re all solar-powered?”

“Yup,” she said.

He must have sensed the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said, looking at her. He was so much taller, with broad shoulders, that she felt like a child staring back at him.

“What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling that I got. Maybe I’m wrong.”

“What’s on your mind, West?”

“Brody and me, we’re not bad guys. We’ll earn our keep around here.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I can’t promise the same thing about the company we came with. But you’re not going to have to worry about us. We’re not afraid of hard work. Never were, and never will be.”

“I believe you.”

“So in case you have any doubts, don’t. I get it, we need to earn your trust. And we will. You just have to give us a chance, that’s all.”

“We’ll see,” she said.

Lara gave him a smile that she hoped
(prayed)
was at least semi-convincing.

*

She headed for
Danny and Carly’s room, next to the one Vera shared with Elise. The conversation with West continued to gnaw at her, ten minutes after leaving him behind on the patio by himself. It wasn’t just what he had said, but what he didn’t say. There was a tone in his voice that she couldn’t quite figure out.

Was he warning me? Or maybe threatening me?

She knocked on Carly and Danny’s door. “You guys decent?”

“No, but come on in anyway,” Danny called from inside.

Lara entered. Carly was folding freshly laundered clothes on the bed, while Danny was brushing his teeth in the open bathroom door, with only a towel around his waist.

He winked at her. “Hey, Lara, like what you see?”

“Oh, gross, babe, go finish your shower,” Carly said.

“Shout if you want a piece of this,” Danny said, flexing his biceps before disappearing into the bathroom. She heard the shower turn on a few moments later.

Carly looked over at her. “The love of my life, Lara. Can you believe how charming he is?”

“Mae says all the new girls are swooning over him.”

“Of course they are. It’s the blue eyes and California good looks. Why did you think I jumped his bones in the first place?”

“Oh, so the secret’s out now.”

“Was it ever in?” Carly picked up a stack of shirts and walked to a dresser. “You’re worried about them.”

It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t even have to elaborate on who “them” was.

Lara sat down on the bed. “Yeah.”

“Did you decide what to do?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about.”

“I think it’s the right decision.”

“I didn’t tell you what I’ve decided.”

“You don’t think I can read you like an open book after all we’ve been through?”

“So you agree?”

“It’s the only decision. The other girls are terrified of them, especially the younger ones.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Bonnie told you she’s been able to keep the two of them away from the other girls and her sister Jo, right?”

“She did, but she didn’t say anything about the others.”

“She didn’t have to. It’s inferred, Lara.” She cocked her head. “Is ‘inferred’ the right word?”

Lara smiled. “Close enough. Tell me what you mean.”

“If you read between the lines, it means Brody and West have tried to do things with the other girls before. One of them is what, thirteen?”

Lara nodded. Lucy was fourteen, and Kylie thirteen. They were both pretty girls, and she saw how Bonnie, Jo, and Gwen protectively watched over them. She imagined it must have been the same with her and Carly, and the girls.

The shower turned off and a few seconds later Danny reappeared in the doorway, wearing the same towel around his waist, wet hair dripping onto the carpet underneath him.

“Lara and I were talking about that thing,” Carly said.

Danny grinned. “I get to be in the middle.”

“Don’t be an idiot, babe. The cowboys.”

“But we can still discuss the other thing, right?”

“Maybe later,” Lara said. “What do you think, Danny?”

He shrugged. “Just call it
Brokeback Island
.”

“What does that even mean?” Carly said.

“You know, that movie?
Brokeback Mountain
?”

Carly and Lara exchanged a confused look.

“You know what he’s talking about?” Carly asked.

“Not a clue,” Lara said.

“Christ, how old are you two?” Danny grunted.

*

She barely slept
all night. The queen-size mattress felt too big without Will, and she kept turning over on her side to look across the bed, expecting him to be there. His presence was always such a soothing reminder that everything was fine, that if Will was sleeping soundly, it had to be safe for her to do the same.

She couldn’t count on that tonight.

Instead, she lay awake, staring at the patio window. There was a nightlight in one corner, but most of the room was dark and she only had her conflicted thoughts to keep her company. It was cool outside, and she pulled the blankets up to her chest.

Will they fight?

Yes, they would fight. Brody and West were fighters. She knew that the second she laid eyes on them. The same trait that made them so valuable out there was what would make them a problem on the island. They were aggressive, daring, and most of all, willing to cross lines in order to get what they wanted.

Even so, she couldn’t completely fight back the feeling of guilt about what she was about to do to them when the sun came up. Brody and West had saved the others. Bonnie admitted as much, regardless of what they may or may not have done to other survivors…

I can’t risk it. If they did kill those other people…

I just can’t risk it. Not with Elise and Vera, and the others…

She turned over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Dark patches of shadow danced above her, mocking her.

I can’t risk it…

There was no decision here. There was only the one choice in front of her. It was obvious.

Wasn’t it?

She told herself her experiences with the Sunday brothers had nothing to do with this. No, she wasn’t punishing West and Brody because of what the Sundays had done to her all those months ago…

When her mind slipped—and it did, every now and then—she found herself reliving the days inside that cabin hidden in the woods. The Sundays. Life with the Sundays. They had kept her chained to the floor, and she could still smell the desperation, along with the filthy dress they forced her to wear because she wasn’t deserving of decent clothing. She could still feel the cold, merciless bite of the metal collar around her ankle…

May you forever burn in hell, John Sunday. You and your brothers.

*

The gunshot woke
her up. It split the calm, serene night air like lightning, shooting across the island and through every room and hallway of the hotel.

Lara was on her feet before the gunshot even finished its echo. She snatched up her Glock from the nightstand and scanned the room to make sure there was no one inside. She calmed her breathing, put the gun back down, and grabbed her pants and shirt and pulled them on, then spent more precious seconds struggling to shove her feet into socks and sneakers.

Footsteps raced across her door, then Danny’s voice: “Lara!”

“I’m coming!” she shouted back.

The footsteps faded as Danny raced up the hallway. She listened to the direction he was heading.

North.

That meant the back of the building, which meant—

The Tower.

Then two more gunshots, this time coming in quick succession.

Shotguns.

Lara glanced at her alarm clock: 2:14 
a.m.

Blaine.

Maddie had the night shift in the Tower, but Blaine would have already relieved her at midnight. He would be there now.

Lara threw her gun belt around her waist, slipped the Glock into the holster, then snatched up the Benelli M4 shotgun from the corner and ran for the door.

Carly was in the hallway in pajamas and a cotton T-shirt, standing just outside the girls’ room with a Glock in her right hand. “Danny just went.”

“Stay with the girls!” she shouted, and ran up Hallway A, following in Danny’s footsteps.

She burst out of the hotel’s back door, the cool air sending a thrill through her body. Or maybe it was just the adrenaline.

She ran as fast as she could, making a straight line for the Tower.

She was halfway there when she saw the door into the lighthouse had been thrown open, bright lights spilling out across the grass. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and looked up at the windows on the second and third floor, glimpsed movement along the second floor, just before Danny appeared in one of the openings.

He was scanning the hotel grounds when he spotted her. “Lara! Get down!”

“What?” she got out, just before a shot shattered the night air around her. She felt something fast zip past her head.

She threw herself to the ground so awkwardly that she lost the shotgun halfway down. It landed in the grass a few feet from her. Lara scrambled forward, snatching it back up and turning toward where she thought the shot had come from.

She heard two shots coming from behind her and looked back at Danny, who was firing from the second-floor window with his M4A1. She tried to follow where he was shooting, but even with the bright LED lights all around them, there were still too many patches of darkness where anyone could be hiding.

Lara scrambled to her feet and raced toward the Tower, even as Danny fired two more shots. The hidden shooter answered Danny’s shots with two of his own, and chunks of the Tower’s second-floor window—where Danny was standing—filled the air.

Danny stepped back a bit, but undeterred, kept returning fire.

When she was almost at the Tower, she stopped short at the sight of blood on the grass outside the door. There was more blood inside, a jagged line running along the floor and continued up the spiral staircase. She darted inside then hurried up the steps, listening to Danny shooting from above her.

She stuck her head carefully through the second-floor opening. Danny was still at the window, peering out with his rifle. “Danny, what’s happening?”

“Third floor, Lara,” Danny said. “Blaine’s hurt.”

She climbed up onto the floor, then hurried over to the second set of cast iron staircases.

“Watch for the blood,” Danny added, just as a shot dislodged a section of the window frame above his head. Danny took another step backward, before returning fire.

“Whose blood?” Lara asked.

“I don’t know, a lot of bleeding going on up there.” Danny fired again. “I have him pinned down behind one of the palm trees.”

“Who’s out there?”

“One of the cowboys. West. I think.”

“You think?”

“Hard to tell who’s up there with Blaine.”

“Danny, what—”

“Upstairs, Lara,” he said, cutting her off. “Blaine’s kinda bleeding to death.”