The Fires of Atlantis (Purge of Babylon, Book 4) (11 page)

“Who?”

“Tutankhamun.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Egyptian pharaoh. He’s the dude all you uneducated types call King Tut.”

“You been sneaking off to read again?”

Danny smirked. “It’s amazing what you can shove into your learning hole when you’re bored.”

“Carly know you’ve been shoving things into inappropriate places?”

“Oh, the things you don’t know about that little demon redhead—”

The whine of an engine cut Danny off and sent both of them into a crouch among the tall grass. They scooted over behind a large tree and put it between them and the lake just as the noise turned into the roar of an outboard motor.

It was an aluminum twenty-footer, gray sides reflecting back the sun as it skidded smoothly across the lake’s surface. There were two men onboard, one sitting on a swivel chair on the bow cradling an M4 while the other stood behind the steering wheel near the center. Both were wearing the same uniforms as the ones they’d seen so far.

They watched the boat disappear up the lake, the man up front glancing around and talking into a radio.

“Lake patrol?” Danny said.

“Looks like it,” Will said.

“First uniforms with nametags and now this? Looks like our boy Josh has really whipped these naughty buggers into shape.”

“Looks like it.”

“Is that all you can say?”

“Sounds like it.”

“Better.”

After the boat faded into the distance, they got up and continued alongside the lake, but this time sticking closer to the thicker parts of the woods to keep from being spotted. The good news was that they could hear the motors coming from a distance, which gave them plenty of time to hide. After all, no one had ever accused the collaborators of being subtle.

“You know what this means, right?” Danny said after a while. “About the kid.”

Will nodded. “Yeah.”

“We see the kid, we gotta pop him. He’s getting too dangerous to let run around out here. Him and his newfangled ideas are begging for a reckoning.”

“A ‘reckoning,’” Will said, grinning at him. “What are you, John Wayne?”

“I’m just saying. The kid’s become a royal pain in the butt cheeks.”

“Even if we popped Josh, it still wouldn’t stop what’s happening out there with the camps and towns. Kate probably has a hundred more like him running the show for her in the daytime. Take one of them out and she’ll just replace him with another eager beaver.”

“Yeah, well, I’d still like to put the kid over my knees and give him a good spanking,” Danny said. “Bad boy, Josh. You’ve been a
very
bad boy.”

Will recalled that day when he thought Josh had died. The eighteen-year-old had done something stupid and stood up during a boat chase and had gotten shot as a result. He had ended up falling into Beaufont Lake. How was Will to know the teenager would float back up later and turn into…this?

I should have put a bullet in him while he was drowning in the lake.

Still not too late for that, Josh.

Still not too late for that…

“
H
e had a Mohawk
,” Gaby said.

“A Mohawk?” Peter thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t remember seeing anyone like that. And I would definitely have remembered a guy with a Mohawk. Milly?”

“What’s a Mohawk?” Milly said.

“You don’t know what a Mohawk is?” Peter asked, slightly amused.

“No.”

“It’s a hairstyle. Like in those cowboys and Indians movies.”

“I don’t like cowboys and Indians movies.”

“Okay, um.” He paused, then, “It’s mostly a shaved head, except for the middle that stands up.” Peter demonstrated by flattening his own hair and leaving just the middle section standing up. “Like this.” He looked over at Gaby. “Right?”

She nodded. “Something like that. But shorter. You didn’t see anyone with hair like that in town, Milly?”

The girl shook her head. “Nope. Was he your friend?”

“He’s my friend, yes.”

Was. Nate’s dead. You know it. Stop pretending he’s not. Josh would never have let him live even if he had survived that night. Maybe the old Josh would, but that Josh is long gone.

I’m sorry, Nate. You shouldn’t have been there with me that night…

She walked on in silence and could feel Peter’s and Milly’s eyes on her back. She ignored them and continued to set the pace through the woods, moving close enough to the shoreline to their right to get some of the cool breeze, but far enough that they couldn’t be seen. Peter told her there were boat patrols along Hillman’s Lake.

They had been walking for the last two hours, keeping to the shade provided by the trees. Every now and then she looked around her, expecting an attack by someone in a camo uniform. Josh’s people. Or maybe Josh himself.

He’ll never let me go. In his deranged mind, he’s doing all of this for me.

“Where are we going?” Milly asked after a while.

“There’s a place called Dunbar up ahead,” Peter said. “A small city with a state highway running through it. We should be able to find shelter and food there, then figure out where to go next.”

Song Island. Where else but Song Island?

“Are there a lot of people in Dunbar?” Milly asked.

“Well, there was supposed to be about 10,000 people,” Peter said. “I’m not sure now.”

“Is it close to the interstate?” Gaby asked, looking back at him.

He shook his head. “It’s about thirty miles from Interstate 10.”

“You’ve been there.”

“I used to live there before I went to New Orleans for work.”

“They took you from New Orleans?”

“Uh huh.”

“What were you doing there? What was ‘work’?”

He smiled. “What, you don’t think I was a cook in my previous life?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“Human Resources,” Peter said. “Boring job, but it made use of my degrees. Of course, I wish I had spent more time in the woods hunting or something. What about you? What did you do before all of this?”

“I was in high school.”

“Oh,” he said.

She smiled. “I’m nineteen, Peter.”

“I thought you were older.”

“You keep saying that. Why?”

“Why?”

“Why did you think I was older? Don’t I look nineteen?”

The question was rhetorical, because Gaby knew she didn’t look nineteen. The Purge aged you and she hadn’t looked—much less felt—nineteen in a year.

“I don’t, I’m not…” he stammered. “I wasn’t sure, that’s all.”

“Sure of what?”

“Milly didn’t tell me you were so young.”

“I didn’t?” Milly said, surprised. “I thought I did.”

“You didn’t,” Peter said.

“Oh.”

“What did she tell you about me?” Gaby asked.

“Not much,” Peter said. “Neither one of us saw you when they first brought you into town. Yesterday was the first time Milly had actually seen you up close.”

“So who did you think I was?”

“I just thought, because…you know.”

“Because of what?” She watched him struggling with an answer. She took pity on him and said, “Because they had me locked up, you thought I was dangerous and you assumed dangerous meant older.”

He nodded, grateful for the rescue. “Yes.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

“You didn’t. That’s not what I meant at all. I just couldn’t figure out why they had you locked up in there, that’s all.”

“It has to do with him,” Milly said.

“‘Him’?” Peter said.

“The kid. The leader.”

“Oh,” Peter said. Then, “Is she right? What’s his name? James?”

“Josh,” Gaby said.

“What did he want with you?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she kept walking.

Peter took the hint and didn’t ask again.

I’m not yours, Josh
.
Get that through your thick head.

I was never yours, and now I’ll never be.

T
hey crouched behind
tall grass and watched the boat pass. There were two men in uniform riding on top, both heavily armed. The one up front looked bored, occasionally turning his head left and right.

“How often do they go up and down the lake?” she whispered to Peter.

“Once or twice a day, I think,” Peter whispered back. “In the morning and in the afternoon. Everyone tries to get back to town before nightfall.”

She glanced at her watch. “How far is Dunbar?”

“Probably four more hours of walking.”

“‘Probably’?”

“I’ve never actually walked there. If we pick it up, maybe three hours?”

“So let’s try to pick it up.”

She stood up and started off, but this time made sure to angle left for a bit until they had put more space between them and the lake. Milly and Peter followed as best they could, the girl already looking as if she was struggling with her pack. That didn’t surprise Gaby. The thirteen-year-old was painfully thin, even though she and Peter had been living in L15, according to them, for over two months now.

They’ve had it too easy. Got soft. Meanwhile, I was in the woods with Will and Danny eating bugs and sleeping on dirt.

She sneaked a look back at them. They were moving too slowly, hampering her pace. Every now and then, she had to fight the urge to run off and leave them behind.

They saved your life. You owe them a little bit of patience.

For now…

H
illman’s Lake
had ended about an hour back, and they were now walking alongside a two-lane state highway somewhere at the outskirts of the Dunbar city limit. They had passed a dozen or so farm houses along the way, with old structures that appeared barren from the road. Most of the city was still ahead, but at the moment there were just the walls of trees to the left and right of them.

Milly’s pace had flagged even further and the girl was straining, both hands hooked around the straps of her backpack. The heat, simmering against the hot concrete road, didn’t do them any favors, and they were all soaked from head to toe in their own sweat. It was October in Louisiana. When the hell was it going to get cold? She couldn’t wait, though she was starting to wonder if she would actually live long enough to see the seasons change. What she wouldn’t give to be able to wear a jacket these days…

Peter was doing better than Milly, but that was probably because he wasn’t always a cook in a nondescript town in the middle of nowhere. For a former Human Resources manager (whatever that was), he kept up with her well enough that Gaby stopped worrying about him. As he walked beside her, she couldn’t help but think about Nate and that day in Sandwhite Wildlife State Park as they fled the men in Level B hazmat suits.

Are you still alive out there, Nate? Or are you one of them now?

“Was he a friend of yours?” Peter asked, his voice intruding on her thoughts.

“Who?” she said, though she already knew the answer.

“Nate. The man you were looking for. He was a friend of yours?”

“He is.”

Was. He’s dead. Why can’t you accept it?

“Why?” she asked.

“I was just wondering,” Peter said. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have told you more about what happened to him.”

“It’s okay. I don’t even know if—”
he survived
“—they brought him back to the same town as me. They might have split us up.”

Now you’re lying to a stranger about Nate? Someone’s delusions have gone into overdrive.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t even know exactly know how long I’ve been in your town. The days are a little fuzzy.”

“Maybe he’s out there somewhere. You never know.” He shrugged. “Look at me and Milly. Who would think we’d still be around? So many people have died, and we somehow managed to keep going.”

“There’s an island,” Gaby said. “Down south. Have you ever heard of Beaufont Lake?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I didn’t know there was an island on it.”

“There is. I have friends there. After we spend the night in Dunbar and gather some supplies, that’s where I’m going. You and Milly are welcome to tag along.”

“Okay,” Peter said quickly.

“That’s it? You’re not going to ask me any more about it?”

He grinned. “Gaby, you seemed to know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on out here than I do. And you’re damn well more prepared than I am to survive it. If you say this island is preferable to staying out here, then yeah, I’ll take you at your word.”

She shrugged. “Your funeral.”

“Whose funeral?” Milly said behind them.

“Nothing,” Peter said, smiling back at her. “It’s just a figure of speech.” He looked over at Gaby. “Right?”

“Right,” Gaby nodded, but thought,
Maybe…

“See?” Peter said.

Milly didn’t look convinced.

“You never told me why the two of you decided to run,” Gaby said, hoping to steer the conversation away from less depressing subjects.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask,” Peter said. “What took you so long?”

“There were more pressing matters until now. Like staying alive.”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, he said, “Things weren’t what we thought they were. Back in town.”

“What did you think it was?”

“Don’t get me wrong. We went there with our eyes wide open. We accepted the contract with those ghouls, as you call them. But then people started disappearing.”

“Disappearing?”

“Men, mostly. Guys who were more—I guess you would say—opinionated than most.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“They asked questions. Too many questions, as it turned out.”

“Troublemakers?”

“Yeah, I guess you could call them that.”

“Just the guys?”

“Just the guys,” Peter nodded. “One day they’re there, the next they’re gone. Whenever anyone asked, the guards just said they were moved to another town. It wasn’t like anyone could verify it. We were allowed to leave whenever we wanted—or so they said—but you know what’s out there, so no one ever did. Plus, they never told us where these ‘other towns’ were.”

“So you decided to run because some loudmouths were going missing?”

“No, it wasn’t until someone I knew disappeared. A guy named Jake. He was a cop from New Orleans. Milly and I met him in one of those camps. Good guy, tough.”

“How big was the camp?”

“What?”

“The camp you were in.”

“Oh. Pretty big.”

“How many people were there?” Gaby asked, remembering the size of the one at Sandwhite Wildlife State Park. All those people in one place, like rats looking for salvation from a sinking ship. Thinking about it always made her angry and sad at the same time.

“A few thousand, probably,” Peter said.

She nodded. “So what happened to Jake?”

“He disappeared one night. Milly saw it happen.”

Gaby glanced back at the girl, who confirmed it with a solemn nod. “What did you see?” Gaby asked her.

“The soldiers took him,” Milly said.

“She has trouble sleeping,” Peter said. “It’s all those nights we spent running after everything happened. It still gives her nightmares sometimes.”

Milly looked away, apparently no longer interested in the topic. Or trying her best to avoid it. In so many ways, she wasn’t even close to being as tough as Lara’s Elise, or Carly’s little sister Vera. Thirteen or not, Milly didn’t have either of those girls’ survival instincts.

“What happened to Jake?” Gaby asked Peter.

“I don’t know, exactly. I asked around—as discreetly as possible—but no one could tell me where they took him. The closest thing to an answer I got was from Howard. He’s one of the guards. A good guy, as far as guards go.”

Gaby wondered if “good guy” guard Howard was one of the men she had shot in the woods while Peter and Milly were fleeing. She said instead, “What did he say?”

“That I should stop asking about Jake.” Peter walked quietly for a moment before continuing. “The day after that conversation, Howard started avoiding me. I figured it out pretty fast that I was going to be next.”

“So you decided to escape.”

“It seemed like the thing to do.”

Gaby sneaked a glance back at Milly, then said quietly to Peter, “Why did you drag her with you?”

He shook his head, clearly offended by the suggestion. “I didn’t. But she wouldn’t stay behind. We’ve been together since all of this began, and I guess I’m the closest thing to family she’s got left. I tried to talk her out of it. Hours and hours of conversation.”

“He goes, I go,” Milly said loudly behind them, with all the confidence a teenage girl who didn’t know any better could muster. “Case closed.”

Peter gave Gaby an exasperated
“See?”
look.

Gaby almost smiled but managed to stop herself in time.

People die around you, remember? These two can die at any moment. Don’t get too attached.

Don’t
get too attached…

T
he city of Dunbar
, according to Peter, had a population of 10,000. That was twice as many as Ridley, Texas, where she had spent the first eighteen years of her life. She expected the city to look more impressive given its size, but it reminded her too much of her hometown—spread out and unspectacular and…country.