The Ashes of Pompeii (Purge of Babylon, Book 5) (32 page)

“He’s gone, Lara.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s gone. He’s not a boy anymore. You can’t think of him as the same boy who you met in Lancing. If you get the chance—if you see him tonight—don’t hesitate. Shoot him, because he’ll shoot you.”

Lara was speechless for a moment. Finally, she said, “I guess it doesn’t matter who leads the attack. One man in a soldier’s uniform is the same as another.”

Gaby looked over at her. “Just don’t hesitate, Lara.”

Lara nodded. “I won’t.” Then she stood up. “I’m going to need you tonight, Gaby.”

“That’s why I came back. You just tell me where you want me, and I’ll be there.”

“Meet me in the lobby in—” she glanced at her watch “—half an hour.”

“Should I bring my gear?”

“No. And you won’t need the M4, either. I’ll have something else for you.”

Gaby nodded. “I’ll be there.”

Lara walked to the door.

“Lara,” Gaby said.

She stopped and looked back.

“What about Will?” Gaby asked.

That’s the question of the century. What about Will?

“He can take care of himself,” Lara said. “Right now, we need to worry about us.”

“Danny’s convinced Kate’s the one pulling the strings out there. Is she capable of something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Lara said. “Let’s save that question for Will when he comes home. Until then, let’s make sure he has someplace to come back to.”

GABY

The island had
changed. She didn’t think it was possible it could look and feel so different since the last time she had walked along its white sandy beach or dipped her feet into the cool blue waters. But maybe it wasn’t Song Island that had changed. Maybe it was her. She wasn’t the same girl who had left this place. She had killed. More than once. If not for The Purge, the lives she had taken would have made her notorious.

The conversation with Lara hadn’t really gone as planned, but in many ways it went better. She loved Lara. She hadn’t realized that until they sat together and simply talked. They had both changed a lot, and maybe not all of it for the better. They had become survivors. They always had been, of course, but there was a difference between surviving and being
survivors.

Was that a good thing? It was hard to say.

Once Claire finished showering, Gaby took her turn. She didn’t linger too much. Five minutes, tops, standing underneath the scalding hot spray and letting it cleanse away the days on the road, the night slept in that crypt outside of Dunbar, and whatever remained of L15 and Josh’s company.

Are you out there right now, Josh? Are you the one leading tonight’s attack?

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she saw him tonight. Josh in that uniform, with a rifle in his hands, running toward her. Could she do it? Could she shoot him the way she had told Lara to?

Stay away, Josh. Please stay away.

Claire was already gone by the time she came out of the shower. Gaby put on clean black cargo pants and socks, then pulled on an olive green long-sleeve sweater. She dressed silently while sneaking looks at the clock on the wall.

6:15 
P.M.

The audible
clicking
of the second hand was like a grenade going off inside the quiet room. One of these days, the batteries were going to die and the hands would stop moving. That was life now. Sooner or later, everything just stopped.

She glanced at the patio window for the fifth time in as many minutes. The curtains were pulled halfway, revealing the falling night outside. Soon, very soon, it would be complete darkness. She should have been afraid, but she wasn’t. Maybe it was being back home again, or the fact she was now surrounded by friends.

Tonight felt different somehow. She was calm. Amazingly so.

The lack of activity in the hallway outside was surprising, given how many people were now calling the hotel home. She made sure to close her door before heading up to the lobby with just her pack in one hand. She walked past two doors before stopping at the third.

She took a breath, then knocked on it.

“Come in,” Nate called from the other side.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

He stood next to his bed, shirtless, with his back to her. His hair was wet, and fresh steam drifted out of the open bathroom door. His dirty clothes were in a pile on the floor, and Nate looked cleaner than she had ever seen him.

She smiled briefly, remembering the look Benny had given Nate back in the dining room. Benny had burst inside, not expecting to see her sitting next to Nate. The next few minutes had been incredibly uncomfortable, and Gaby felt miserable about not preparing either one of them for that moment.

I’m back in high school all over again,
she remembered thinking.

Nate glanced over and gave her a wide smile. “You weren’t kidding about this place. Your own room, a big soft bed, and working plumbing. I could definitely get used to all of this.”

If we’re still alive after tonight,
she thought, but asked instead, “How was your reunion with Mary, Kendra, and the others?”

“It was good to see them again. A lot of questions, though.” He pursed his lips. “I didn’t know how to answer most of them.”

“Mary must be especially happy to see you back.”

Mary was the teenage girl who had been a part of Nate’s group back when they were still out there on their own. The girl had stuck close to Nate the entire time, and Gaby used to feel a little guilty about Nate just leaving them behind to go with her. That guilt was compounded by what happened to him afterward.

“She was,” he nodded. “I was happy to see her, too. They all look healthier than I’ve ever seen them. Coming here was a good thing.”

Gaby wasn’t so sure about that. She couldn’t help but think about Claire, Milly, and Annie, and bringing them to a place that was about to be attacked. It must have shown on her face, because Nate gave her a reassuring look.

“We’ll get through tonight,” he said. “We’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

He turned around and picked up a shirt from the bed. She was so used to seeing him with that stupid Mohawk that not to see it perched on top of his head still took some adjusting. She was staring at his head when her eyes fell down to his arms as he pulled the shirt on.

Teeth marks.

They covered both his arms, extending from the wrists to the shoulders blades. There were dozens of them, like tiny mazes crisscrossing his flesh, or poorly thought-out tattoos. Most looked healed, but some still looked fresh.
Too
fresh. She stared and couldn’t look away, and couldn’t stop herself from wondering where else they were on his body that she couldn’t see at the moment.

Nate looked back and saw where she was staring. The look on her face must have betrayed her thoughts, because he quickly grabbed a knitted black sweater and pulled it over the T-shirt.

“It looks worse than it really is,” he said.

“Do they hurt?” she asked, feeling stupid as soon as the words blurted out of her mouth.

He didn’t look offended, though. If anything, she had the impression he had been waiting for this conversation.

“Not anymore,” he said. “In the beginning, yeah. Back at the pawnshop, when I was still conscious. I could feel their teeth breaking skin.” He seemed to drift off a bit, maybe flashing back to that night. “But after a while, I blacked out. When I woke up, they told me that was how it usually worked. Once they put you under, you don’t feel anything anymore.”

“Usually?”

“Some of the guys had stories…”

“What kind of stories?”

“You know all those scary stories people tell about how some coma patients in hospitals are still awake when everyone else thinks they’re asleep? But in reality they’re trapped inside their bodies and can still see, hear, and feel everything? But they just can’t move or talk? I think there’s a medical term for it, but I can’t think of it right now.”

“Maybe Lara knows,” she said absently.

“Probably. Anyways, some guys said they could still feel the ghouls drinking them when they were unconscious.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t, so I can’t really say for sure either way.”

“Then you woke up…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Nate,” she said quietly.

“What for?” he said, smiling across the room at her. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Gaby.”

“You wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you forced me to. Or even asked me to. I volunteered, remember?”

“I know. Still…”

“Gaby,” he said, and there was a forcefulness in his voice she hadn’t heard before. “You didn’t do this. Understand? Those things did. Everything else was my choice. Okay? You don’t ever have to apologize for what happened to me. I don’t blame you. I never did, and I never will.”

She didn’t know what to do or what to say, so she just did what felt right at the moment, and that was to walk silently to him. Nate opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him down and kissed him. His arms slipped anxiously around her waist, and he pulled her body to his and ground his mouth down against hers with a hunger that momentarily took her breath away.

They kissed for the longest time. Or maybe it was just a few seconds. It wasn’t until she couldn’t breathe anymore that she pulled slightly back, but she was still so close to him that she could feel his warm breath against her face. He was, she noticed, breathing harder than usual. Maybe even harder than her.

“You wanna see this wicked scar I have on my back?” he asked with a grin.

She gave him a confused look. “Why would I want to see that?”

“I dunno, but you saw the scars on my arms and I got this. I figured, scars must turn you on.”

She shook her head. “They don’t.”

“Wow. Totally read that signal wrong, then.” He glanced at his wall clock. “We still have a few minutes—”

“Not nearly enough for everything I want to do with you,” she said, and pulled him down and kissed him again.

*

She sent Nate
to the lobby ahead of her to join the others while she made a detour to the infirmary first. Carly had given them a quick tour of the new rooms as they were walking through earlier, so Gaby didn’t have any trouble finding it again. It was also close enough to the lobby that she could hear voices on the other end of the hallway. Muted conversations, part anxious and scared, but there was a determination among them that heartened her.

The only person in the infirmary was a blonde woman sitting on a stool at a counter, her back to Gaby. When she entered and knocked on the open door, the woman turned around and Gaby smiled at Zoe.

“Long time no see,” Gaby said.

Zoe smiled back, which was something Gaby found amusing, since the last time they were in the same room, she had threatened to kill the other woman. More than once, actually.

“Gaby,” Zoe said. “Welcome home.”

“Glad to be back.” She walked over and sat down on a stool. “You look pretty healthy. Will told me you were shot.”

“Yeah. Word of advice? Don’t get shot.”

“Good advice.” She looked around the room. “Not bad. Beats working out of a tent in the woods.”

“I know, right? It only took the end of the world to get my very own medical practice. And on a tropical island, no less. I still don’t know where they got those palm trees from, though.”

“They were here when we showed up.”

“That’s what Lara said. This place was supposed to be a resort for the rich and famous. I bet they didn’t expect it to become a refuge for humankind’s last holdout.”

“Wow. I never thought of it quite like that.”

Zoe laughed. “What, too ominous?”

“Just a bit,” she said, pinching her fingers together. “You’re not going to the lobby for the big powwow?”

Zoe shook her head. “That’s just for the badass warriors like you. The rest of us already got our marching orders. I’m just finishing up here before heading off. Lara’s got it all figured out.”

Gaby had seen the way Lara took control of the island, giving orders with the kind of authority she’d only seen Will exert.

You would be proud of her, Will. She’s like you—only prettier.

“I spent most of this afternoon following Lara’s orders,” Zoe was saying. “She’s got me running back and forth from the yacht.” She looked thoughtful, adding, “I can see why Will likes her so much. She’s the female him.”

Likes her? Will doesn’t like Lara. He
loves
her. We should all hope for something close to that at least once in our lives.

“So,” Zoe said, “what can I do for you? Or is this just a friendly visit?”

“I was hoping to stock up on something for tonight.”

“What kind of something?”

“You have any painkillers you can spare?”

“Is it your nose?” Zoe leaned forward slightly. “Does it hurt? It looks like it was broken recently.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

She thought about complaining to Zoe about her shoulder, which still bothered her if she sat around in one place for too long, but decided the occasional numbness wasn’t worth mentioning.