The Isles of Elysium (Purge of Babylon, Book 6) (27 page)

“The boys did that to her face,” Steve said to Keo. “I guess they got a little carried away. Tobias’s people may have suffered heavy losses yesterday, but they’ve been hounding us for months. I’ve lost more than my share, too.”

“What about the knife?” Keo asked.

“That was me,” Steve said with a dismissive shrug. “She wasn’t being very cooperative.” Then, “Where are the others? The rest of Tobias’s people?”

“Somewhere out there. You found where they were last night? The YMCA near the highway?”

“Scouts did,” Jack said.

“They were there when I left. I guess your guys must have spooked them. I was supposed to tell her—” he nodded at Jordan “—that everything was arranged, then she would relay the message back to the others and they’d all come in at the same time.”

“The lambs are coming home,” Jack smiled. “I told you they’d come running back when we finally got rid of Tobias.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve said. “Until today, anyway.” He nodded at Jack. “Get her to Bannerman. Make sure no one sees her like this.”

“I hate going there. Bannerman gives me the creeps.”

“Suck it up,” Steve said. Then to Keo, “Come on,” before starting off.

Keo looked back at Jordan and caught her staring at him with her good eye. He gave her a barely visible nod and she blinked back once.

He turned around as Jack ordered the soldiers to bring Jordan down, and he heard her grunting with relief as she was lowered to the hard concrete floor.

Outside, the clouds above T18 had grown in size and gotten much grayer. Though they had over an hour before sundown, it was already dark enough that the LED floodlights had begun switching on along the docks.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Keo asked.

“Bannerman will take care of her,” Steve said. “She should be fine in a couple of days.”

“Those knife cuts won’t be fine in a couple of days.”

“Everything heals eventually, Keo. She’s lucky I believed you, otherwise I would have really gone to work.”

“You mean you weren’t ‘really’ working back there?”

“That was a warm-up. You don’t wanna see me really working.” He stared at Keo when he added, “Trust me on that.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Good.” He climbed into the golf cart. “The first step to a healthy partnership is to recognize your position in the hierarchy. In T18, what I say goes. Got it?”

“Gotten.”

“That’s a good soldier.” He grinned. “Now, let’s go have dinner. I’m famished.”

*

Steve lived in
T18A3, two subdivisions over from the one where Gillian
(and Fuck-You-Jay)
lived. The housing areas were separated by the same six-foot wooden fencing he had seen in the back of Gillian’s house. Nothing that would keep anyone out, but just enough to separate the different areas into their own little corners.

With the gathering clouds growing darker above him, it felt as if they were driving through nightfall. Keo had to temper his growing anxiety about still being outside, especially without his guns.

“Relax,” Steve said behind the steering wheel. “They don’t come into town. There’s an invisible line that they don’t cross. When I decide I can fully trust you, I might tell you how it all works. Until then, you’ll just have to be satisfied with Rule #1.”

“Which is?”

“Everything within the town is safe. Everything beyond it? Go at your own risk.”

“Good to know…”

Lights hanging from repurposed power poles along the road had begun slowly turning on as they traveled from the marina back to the subdivisions. The lights had come on by themselves, and he guessed they were similar to the solar-powered lamps he’d seen on Song Island, only smaller and less efficient. They weren’t quite bright enough to push back the darkness completely, but there were enough of them to navigate by.

“Where’d you find the lights?” Keo asked.

“Archers,” Steve said. “From Home Depot and Lowe’s, too. You name it, we’ve raided them. That’s why there isn’t very much left out there. Before he went rogue, Tobias and I knew we’d be able to use all the renewable resources from the old world, so we began stockpiling them pretty early on. No one had bothered looting them, so we had our pick. The guys in charge of the other towns did the same thing.”

“You talk to them?”

“Oh, sure, I call them on the phone every other day.”

“Hunh.”

Steve smiled, amused with himself.

They drove past the gate into Gillian’s T18A1, then T18A2, before slowing down and turning into T18A3. Armed soldiers came out of another booth to push the gate open, and one of them actually (and awkwardly) saluted Steve.

They went up a street flanked by lights that were slowly coming on by themselves. Most of the lamps were hanging from power poles that no longer had any uses, with smaller versions jutting out of front lawns. There were very few lights coming from inside the homes, but he did spot a couple of soldiers walking along the sidewalks carrying flashlights.

“Where is everyone?” Keo asked.

“Settling down for dinner at the cafeterias after a hard day’s work,” Steve said. “All the food is kept at a central location and well-guarded, so no one will be tempted to help themselves beyond scheduled meals. Gotta keep everyone well-fed and healthy, otherwise this place shuts down.”

“And keep them healthy enough to keep giving blood, of course.”

“That goes without saying.”

“How often do they donate?”

“Once a day, every day. We don’t take enough to make them so tired they can’t work. You’ll discover that we do everything in moderation. We have to, or the supplies won’t last. But everyone has to do and give their fair share.”

“Well, not everyone.”

“Now you’re getting it. Privileges, Keo. Humans may have been relegated to second-class citizens in this brave new world, but there are still classes within classes. You’re one of us now. Enjoy it.”

Until I put a bullet in your head,
Keo thought, thinking about Jordan hanging from the rafters in the warehouse back in the marina.

“So where are we going?” he asked instead. “To the cafeteria for dinner?”

Steve chuckled. “Does the President of the United States eat at Luby’s?”

*

Steve lived in
a two-story house that was almost exactly in the middle of T18A3. Keo had expected something bigger and more grand as befitting the “president” of T18, but it looked like all the others—half brick up front and mostly wood paneling along the sides and in the back.

Solar-powered LED lights in the ground lit their way up the driveway and to the front door. Each light no doubt had a very sharp point on the other end, and Keo fantasized about pulling one of the stakes up and shoving it into the back of Steve’s head as he followed the man up the walkway.

Steve didn’t knock or need a key to open the door. He just opened it, and the aroma of fried chicken hit Keo as soon as he stepped inside.

“Yum yum yum,” Steve said, smacking his lips. “Now that smells good!”

“Be ready in a few minutes!” a woman called over to them.

“That’s my lady,” Steve said. “She’s a great cook.”

“Fried chicken?” Keo said. “You have chicken?”

“We have a farm behind one of the fields. Chickens, ducks, cows… Where do you think the horses come from? A man can’t live on MREs and vegetables his entire life, Keo.”

“Does everyone get fried chicken?”

“Sure, once a week. Maybe once every two weeks. Portions, anyway.”

Classes within classes. Right.

The woman in the kitchen was picking up pieces of drumsticks frying in a pan and putting them onto plates. She glanced over at Keo and smiled. Mid-twenties, blonde, and much prettier than someone like Steve deserved. She was wearing a flower-printed dress and an apron, and her hair was done in an old-fashioned style that made Keo wonder if he had stepped into a real-life
Leave It To Beaver
episode.

“Keo, this is Lois, my better half,” Steve said. “Darling, this is Keo.”

“Is that Japanese?” Lois asked.

“Korean,” Keo said.

“Oh, cool.”

“Keo’s a half-breed, right?” Steve said.

“Honey, that’s not nice!” Lois said.

“He doesn’t mind. Right, Keo?”

“Right,” Keo nodded, just barely suppressing a grimace.

“See?” Steve said. He went into the kitchen, slipped his arms around Lois’s waist, and nuzzled her neck. “Smells good. And the food, too.”

“Steve,” Lois said.

They were doing that pretend-annoyed thing that husbands and wives did in front of company. Keo wanted to throw up.

“Show Keo where to clean up,” Lois said. “I’ll have everything ready by the time you guys are done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve kissed her neck and grabbed her ass with both hands.

She yelped. “Steve!”

Steve laughed, and Keo couldn’t decide if all of this was some theater for his benefit, or if they really were this sickeningly satisfied with their lives inside the safe zone of T18.

“Come on, you look and smell like shit,” Steve said to him. “I was going to send a uniform over to Gillian’s house, but I guess that can wait.”

“A uniform?” Keo said.

“You might as well look the part if you’re going to stay. You are going to stay, aren’t you?”

Keo shrugged. He didn’t want to come across as too anxious. “Maybe. There’s not much out there.”

“Not unless you believe the radio.”

“Radio?”

“Want a laugh? Come take a listen.”

Steve led him into a study that was partially lit by a pair of LED lights clamped to the windowsills. Keo saw a soldier outside across the street, smoking a cigarette, the outline of his M4 rifle jutting out from behind his back. Keo thought about all the things he could do with that weapon.

Steve walked to a dresser and turned on a battery-powered radio and fidgeted with the knobs. Keo only heard static, but Steve seemed certain there was something there and kept hunting around the dials.

“They had another message they were broadcasting before this one,” Steve was saying. “It went kaput about a month ago. I assumed my compatriots did that. Anyway, one of my guys picked up this new one yesterday. It’s definitely the same people.” He found what he was looking for and stopped, then turned up the volume. “Here it is. Same woman, different message.”

Keo already knew what he was going to hear before he heard it, because he had been there in person when they recorded the message on the bridge of the
Trident
.

“…silver. Bodies of water. And sunlight,” a female voice said through the radio. “These are three things that we know for certain that can, and will, kill the creatures, these things in the darkness we call ghouls.”

He almost smiled at the sound of Lara’s voice but managed to stop himself at the very last second because Steve was watching him, maybe trying to gauge his reaction across the semidarkness of the room.

“For their human collaborators, the traitors in uniforms that scour the countryside in the daylight for survivors,” Lara continued, “any bullet will do. If you’re able, get to a place that is surrounded by bodies of water. Stock up on silver; if you know how, make silver bullets, or any silver-bladed weapons. The daylight is no longer your friend, but don’t be discouraged. As long as you’re breathing, as long as you are free, there is hope. We will adapt and keep going, because that’s what we do. This is Lara, and I’m still fighting alongside you.”

The message paused for about five seconds before it repeated itself:

“This is Lara, broadcasting to you from safe harbor. If you’re hearing this, that means you’re still out there, too. Remember: Silver. Bodies of water. And sunlight. These are three things that we know for certain that can, and will, kill the creatures, these things in the darkness we call ghouls…”

Steve turned down the volume until Keo could barely hear Lara’s voice. “She believes it, too. Just like Tobias. She thinks you can keep fighting them. The sad part is, we’ve caught a couple of people listening to this propaganda bullshit. Luckily, we’ve managed to nip those in the bud before they got out of control. This type of thing is like a virus; if you don’t stamp it out immediately, it spreads. We can’t have that.”