The Isles of Elysium (Purge of Babylon, Book 6) (45 page)

The lingering acidic smell of dead ghouls filled Keo’s nostrils as he walked through the cemetery of bones.

He was glad he was walking in front of Jordan so she couldn’t see him grimacing with every step. Despite taking two more of Jay’s painkillers (he had already taken two last night), he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last on his feet. His back was intact
(Thank you, God)
, but it was constantly letting him know it was far from okay. He wanted badly to sit down and rest but forced himself to keep moving anyway.

He must not have hid the pain well enough, because Jordan asked, “Are you okay?” from behind him.

“Fine.”

“Then why are you walking so slow?”

“I’m just taking my time. It’s a nice, sunny day. Perfect for a stroll.”

“Right,” she said, but thankfully didn’t press the issue.

There were more bleached bones and partial skeletal remains in the streets beyond the marina. These were spread out, as some of the creatures attempted to crawl toward the houses for salvation, and some had made it onto the lawns before the sun caught them. There was more of the sharp, acidic smell in the air, and Keo picked up his pace—or as much as he could, anyway—to get through it faster.

The two-story white house was exactly where they had left it last night, but being able to see it from afar and getting to it were two different things. During the long walk up the slanted road, he finally surrendered to the pain and stopped to gather his breath.

Jordan, meanwhile, stood guard. “No rush. We got all day.”

Unlike him, the morning had been a good one for Jordan, and the swelling around her right eye had gone down noticeably so that when she looked at him, it was now with both eyes.

“How’s the back?” she asked.

“Throbbing.”

“How’s everything else?”

“Throbbing.”

“Lots of throbbing.”

“Yup.”

“Here,” she said, handing him one of the water bottles from her pack.

“Save it for later,” he said, and stood up with a flinch and walked on before she could argue.

*

There were no
signs of Steve or his men on the first floor of the house on the hill. They had left their weapons behind (including an M4 with an attached grenade launcher, probably the same one that had killed Dave), but the bodies were gone. Dead men still bled, especially the freshly dead one. Keo imagined a feeding frenzy as the ghouls, having been locked on the island for a year, got their first taste of fresh (or, well, mostly fresh) blood.

Sucks to be you, Steve.

They kicked stray bullet casings on their way through the house. Holes dotted the walls, and any furniture that wasn’t nailed down was scattered in pieces. Large patches of blood covered the floor and walls in spots where the sun couldn’t reach.

The staircase was battered and broken, with the kind of damage that could only be caused by repeatedly ramming someone’s skull into the frame. Or a lot of someones’ skulls.

Mister Blue Eyes. Did you do this?

They found more evidence of last night’s fight on what was left of the second-floor living room. Sunlight highlighted white bones along the floor, including evidence of incomplete ghouls that had been unable to crawl away as the morning stalked them. All Keo had to do was follow the trail of bones to the master bedroom, which he did while holding his shirt over his nose to keep out the stinging smell that had become nauseating after breathing it for the last hour or so.

They went in cautiously, guns at the ready in case there was a ghoul or two (or a dozen) still hiding in the shadows. He could see the broken back window from the open door, but there were no guarantees the place was empty even if the stench attacking his nostrils was more of the acidic odor of vaporized flesh than the rotting garbage of living
(hah)
ghouls.

The master bedroom looked as if a tornado had hit it. The bed, dresser, and door had been reduced to unrecognizable splinters. Sunlight poured in through the lone window—the opening had widened, the wall surrounding it gashed, as if someone had hit it with a wrecking ball—and illuminated the evidence of a massive fight that had taken place here last night. The walls were heavily cratered, and the parts of it and the floor that avoided coming into contact with the sun were awash in thick coats of black blood.

“Must have been some fight,” Jordan said next to him.

“Yeah.”

“Wonder if your friend survived.”

Keo smiled. His “friend.”

He looked around the room, hoping to find signs of Ol’ Blue Eyes. Would the black-eyed ones take him
(It, it’s an
it
)
with them if it were dead? The way they had absconded with Steve and his men?

He had no idea. All of this was new territory for him.

“There,” he said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the bathroom doors.

They were closed but were also the only doors in the entire room—maybe even the entire house—that were still intact. Or, well, mostly, despite the generous layer of black blood spread across them.

“Be careful,” Jordan said when he started moving toward the doors.

He wiped a thick layer of dark liquid off one of the doorknobs with a shirt from the floor, then used the same fabric to turn it. Jordan moved over and they counted down to
five
before he pulled open one of the doors and they both took a step back.

A large trail of plasma, jagged and thick, led from the doors to the remains of a badly destroyed trench coat lying in a crumpled heap near the bathtub. The guns, ammo, and supplies Keo expected to find in the tub were tossed to the floor, some resting in enough blood for two people, maybe even three.

Having made room for itself, it now sat inside the tub, facing him. There were no windows inside the bathroom, so the creature hadn’t needed to risk the sun in here.

Ol’ Blue Eyes.

It looked asleep, and when he opened the doors, it slowly, almost lazily, lifted its head. The blue eyes that looked across the mostly darkened room at him weren’t quite as pulsating
(alive)
as they had been last night.

“You came back,” it said. Even its hiss seemed weaker. Much, much weaker.

He could tell it was badly hurt, even if Keo couldn’t see its wounds from the open door. He wanted to get closer but was unwilling to abandon the comforting warmth of the sunlight at his back. After all, he had seen just how fast the thing could move. Even if it was injured, Keo didn’t want to take the chance.

“I had to know,” he said.

It looked at him but didn’t say a word.

Next to him, Jordan’s breathing had accelerated noticeably.

“Last night,” Keo continued, “you said you were looking for me.”

“Yes,” it said, with that same soft, labored hiss that wasn’t quite human, but wasn’t quite inhuman, either. “I’ve been searching for you.”

“How did you find me?”

“I saw you through one of them. At the cabin, when it attacked you. I saw your face and heard your name.”

“The cabin,” Jordan said. “Outside of T18?”

It nodded.

“So you…saw me through their eyes?” Keo asked.

“I can see what they see, hear what they hear, even feel what they feel,” it said. “We’re linked, because we share the same blood. All of us. Like veins in a river. Tens of thousands. Millions. You have no idea the full extent of their number. What you’ve seen so far is only a raindrop in the ocean.”

Keo exchanged a glance with Jordan. If she understood any of this, he didn’t see it on her face. He wondered if he looked as perplexed, or even more so.

He turned back to the creature. “What do you want from me?”

“To find someone,” it said.

“Who?”

“Lara.”

The name caught him by surprise, and it took Keo a few seconds to respond. Finally, he said, “What do you want with her?”

“To help her.”

“Help her do what?”

“To save everyone,” the blue-eyed ghoul said. “There is a way to end this nightmare. Lara needs to know. She needs to know…”

Yes, there was always a plan.

Now that you’ve gotten a taste of what’s coming, why not mosey on over to Amazon or a bookseller of your choice and leave a review for
The Isles of Elysium?
I hear the Internets is very popular these days with the kids and leaving reviews is super easy. Why, back in my day, we had to walk through five feet of snow just to write a book review! Get off my lawn! Ahem.

Meanwhile, the road to victory begins in…

The Spears of Laconia

(Book 7 in the Babylon Series)

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The Purge of Babylon Series

The Purge of Babylon: A Novel of Survival (Book 1)

The Gates of Byzantium (Book 2)

The Stones of Angkor (Book 3)

The Walls of Lemuria: The Keo Storyline (Book 3.5)

The Fires of Atlantis (Book 4)

The Ashes of Pompeii (Book 5)

The Isles of Elysium (Book 6)

The Spears of Laconia (Book 7)

The Horns of Avalon (Book 8)

The Bones of Valhalla (Book 9)

The Allie Krycek Series

Hunter/Prey (Book 1)

Saint/Sinner (Book 2)

Finders/Keepers (Book 3)