The Gates of Byzantium (The Babylon Series, Book 2) Page 15

  Gaby was young and painfully pretty. Even though Gaby’s hair was dirty and her face hadn’t seen makeup in months, Lara couldn’t help feeling a little bit jealous looking at the teenager. She didn’t have to guess why Josh stood so close to Gaby at all times. Josh was a decent-looking kid, with disheveled brown hair that she guessed someone had cut for him recently (probably Gaby) and mellow brown eyes that weren’t quite as striking as Will’s. There was really nothing extraordinary about Josh physically, and she couldn’t picture the two of them together in high school. They were about the same height, which made the poor kid stand out even less.

  But she had to admit, Josh had done a remarkable job keeping the two of them alive, especially after they were captured by Folger’s men yesterday. It had been his idea to escape, Gaby said, and Lara saw the way Gaby responded to him. She might not have given him the time of day eight months ago, but things had changed since.

  Lara saw Will looking down at his watch. “Three fourteen,” he announced. “That gives us two hours to find a better place to bed down for the night. If we don’t find anything by then, we’ll come back and fortify the courthouse.”

  “Be careful,” Lara said.

  He nodded and went outside, where Danny was already waiting.

  That left Lara and Carly with Josh and Gaby. She watched the blonde teenager devour the can of peaches until there was nothing left.

  Wish I had that appetite…

  “Danny said you guys were going to some island,” Josh said. “Is that true? He said it might be safe. Like a sanctuary.”

  “Song Island,” Lara nodded. “And that’s what we’re hoping—that it’s safe. It’s somewhere on Beaufont Lake in Louisiana. It’s better if you hear it for yourself.”

  Lara went into the back to grab the ham radio. She turned it on as she walked back, and the recorded female voice was already in mid-message:

  “…broadcasting on the FEMA frequency to any survivors out there. We want you to know there is hope. There are survivors on Song Island. We have food, supplies, electricity, and protection against the darkness. If you are receiving this recorded message, we encourage you to make your way to us. I repeat: we have food, supplies, electricity, and protection against the darkness. Hello. If anyone can hear me out there. This is Song Island on Beaufont Lake in Louisiana. We are broadcasting on the FEMA frequency…”

  “It’s a recorded message,” Lara said, turning the sound down a bit. “It repeats the same message over and over.”

  “Who’s broadcasting it?” Josh asked.

  “We don’t know. Will thinks it’s possibly some ex-military types, or maybe ex-government officials. Someone who knows about the FEMA frequency.”

  “Why wouldn’t they just say who they were?”

  “I don’t know, maybe they just wanted to keep the message short.”

  “That means they have power, right?” Josh said, brightening up. “You’d need power to send that kind of message.”

  “It could be hydro power,” Lara said. “The facility where we were staying before this used a water turbine to generate electricity. These people are on an island, so it makes sense if that’s how they’re getting their electricity, too.”

  “Song Island?” Gaby said. “I’ve never heard of it. Then again, I’ve never been outside of Texas.” She glanced over at Josh. “What do you think? Is it possible?”

  “Maybe,” Josh said, though Lara didn’t think he was sold on the idea. “It’s definitely possible. Why not? It’s an island, surrounded by water. If the bloodsuckers have a thing about water… Do they have a thing about water?” he asked, looking over at Lara and Carly.

  “I guess we’ll find out, because we’re going there,” Lara said. “The two of you are welcome to join us.”

  “God, yes,” Gaby said quickly. “Right, Josh?”

  “Count us in,” Josh said without hesitation.

  Josh would run through a wall for her.

  Ah, teenage love. Or possibly lust.

  Close enough.

  *

  LARA AND CARLY got Josh and Gaby settled into the courthouse, even though they fully expected Will and Danny to tell them they were moving. That was usually how it happened. After that disastrous night at a bank outside the city of Cleveland, Texas, that had nearly cost them their lives, Will was determined to not let it happen again. The ghouls had proved too intelligent and too creative for him to risk being hunkered down inside a building that could be breached. The best way to avoid them, Lara had learned, was to actually avoid them.

  Dead, not stupid.

  That meant hiding. She wasn’t ashamed of it. In fact, she preferred it. Hiding was always a better option than fighting, especially when your enemy had an endless number of (undead) bodies to throw at you.

  Lara found Blaine outside the courthouse, under the hood of a beat-up white Toyota truck with the letters “TRD” on the side. It was covered in dust and looked like it had been abandoned some time back, but must still be working because it hadn’t been in the parking lot the last time she was out here. Lara saw a key in the ignition.

  Blaine pulled his head out from behind the hood of the truck. “Hey.”

  “Going somewhere?”

  “After Sandra.”

  “Did you talk to Will?”

  “He understands.”

  “So you’re going by yourself?”

  “It’s my thing,” he said. She thought he was going to elaborate, explain his “thing” to her, but he didn’t.

  “I can’t talk you out of it?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  She thought about it, and realized he was right. “I wouldn’t.”

  He slammed the hood back down and wiped blackened hands on a rag, then walked around the truck and leaned into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The truck jumped to life.

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  “It’ll do,” Blaine nodded. He turned the engine off and sat behind the steering wheel for a moment. Then he seemed to make up his mind about something and looked at her. “I don’t have any right to ask, but can you spare any food and supplies? I already talked to Will about weapons, and he’s going to let me have one of the AR-15s to replace the shotgun.”

  “I’ll put a care package together for you. When are you leaving?”

  “Whenever you’re done.”

  “Give me ten minutes,” she said.

  *

  “SHOULD WE TRY to talk him out of it?” Carly asked. “I feel like we should.”

  Lara was putting Blaine’s care package together, using one of the smaller crates. She packed blankets, bedrolls, pillows, canned food, and toiletries, utilizing the space to its maximum, a trick she had picked up over the months. She packed the box with the intention of its being used by two people. Maybe it was a fantasy, but she thought Blaine would want that, and the optimist in her wanted that happy ending for him.

  “Will didn’t,” Lara said.

  “That’s Will and Danny. I mean we, as in us.”

  “I don’t think I can. I tried, but I just didn’t have my heart in it. Wouldn’t you want Danny to come after you, if that was you out there?”

  “Of course I would. But only if I knew Danny wasn’t limping around with three bullet holes in him. How long do you think he’s going to last out there? He can barely walk, Lara.”

  “Danny wouldn’t care.”

  “Danny can be an idiot, too,” she said.

  Lara smiled. “Love makes you do crazy things.”

  “I guess so. God knows I love that guy. Bad jokes and all.” She looked back at Gaby, playing clapping hand games with Elise and Vera, while Josh watched with a big grin on his face. “She looks like you.”

  “Who?”

  “The girl. Gaby. A younger version of you. Did you look like that ten years ago?”

  “God, ten years ago,” Lara said, looking over at Gaby. She did see a slight resemblance. Had it really been that long since she were a eighteen-ye
ar-old teenager? It felt like another incarnation. “Maybe,” she said.

  “You guys could pass for sisters.”

  “I already have a sister.”

  “Really? You never told me that. What’s her name?”

  Lara gave her a look and rolled her eyes.

  Carly laughed. “God, I’m so dense.” She smiled at Lara before suddenly grabbing her in a big bear hug. “It’s nice to be the little sister for a change. I’m tired of always being the big sister. It’s too…much…work.”

  Lara laughed. “Okay, okay. Only if you promise to do what I say and clean your room so I don’t have to.”

  “No promises.”

  The radio clipped to Lara’s hip squawked, and she heard Danny’s voice: “Ladies, when was the last time you went to church and repented your sins to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”

  “Stupid Danny, always ruining a great moment,” Carly said, wiping away tears.

  That almost made Lara cry, too, but she somehow managed to fight through it, if just barely.

  *

  LARA WENT OUTSIDE with the crate and put it into the back seat of the Toyota. She opened the lid and took out a small white bag.

  Blaine was slipping on a gun belt. A Remington 870 and an AR-15 rifle lay across the hood of the truck next to him.

  “You sure you won’t change your mind?” she asked. “Song Island isn’t going anywhere. We’ll go back with you to find Sandra tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait that long. She’s out there now, Lara. She went back for me. I need to find her.” He tossed the weapons into the front seats. “Thanks for the care package.”

  “Oh, and this.” She handed him the white bag. It was leather and at one point someone had used it to carry makeup.

  “I don’t need makeup, Lara,” Blaine said, grinning at her.

  She smiled back at him. “It’s an impromptu aid kit.” She unzipped the bag and pulled out a plain white bottle. “I restocked your painkillers, for when the pain kicks in. And trust me, it will, sooner or later.”

  “More Vicodin?”

  “Tramadol. Not quite as strong as Vicodin or Percocet. At this point, I’m supposed to tell you not to take more than three a day, but I doubt you’ll listen anyway.” She put the bottle back into the bag and pulled out a roll of gray duct tape. “This is for your wounds, if and when they open again. Let’s hope they don’t, but if they do, this will do in a pinch. Clean the wound as thoroughly as you can, then use this to keep it closed so it can heal up. It’ll hurt, but it’ll also keep you from bleeding out.”

  He took the duct tape hesitantly. “Isn’t this something MacGyver would do?”

  “I don’t know who that is.”

  “He’s a guy on TV. He did crazy things with household items.” Blaine shook his head. “Never mind. Does this actually work?”

  “I would have given you superglue, but we don’t have any.”

  He gave her another doubtful look, probably wondering if she was just messing with him now.

  “Superglue works wonders to close up a wound,” she said. “But since I don’t have any on hand, duct tape will have to do. Just make sure to clean the wound first.” She reached into the bag and took out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. “This will do the trick. Then squeeze the wound together and apply as much duct tape as you need to cover it up. That’ll give it time to heal and keep it from opening again.”

  “Why don’t I just do that now?”

  “Because I spent a lot of time stitching you back together and properly dressing the wounds. This is worst-case scenario. If you ever need to reach for this white bag, you’re already in trouble.”

  “You’re the doctor, doctor.” He took the bag from her and put it on the seat next to the AR-15.

  “Third-year medical student, actually.”

  “I sold car parts for a living and did part-time work in my uncle’s garage in Dallas. Trust me, third-year medical student is a better doctor than I could have afforded even before the world went to shit.”

  He climbed into the truck and looked back out at Lara, and for a moment she thought he was going to announce he had changed his mind, that he was going to stay with them after all.

  Instead, he said, “Thank you. Not just for the supplies. But for everything. For saving my life. You didn’t have to do it, especially now with everything the way it is, but you did, and that means a lot to me. One of these days, I’m going to pay both you and Will back. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it yet.”

  “You’ll have to stay alive to do that.”

  He grinned at her again. “That’s the plan. But I have to find Sandra first. She means everything to me. If she’s not here beside me, I might as well just lie down and let those monsters drain me dry.”

  He closed the door and turned on the engine.

  “Blaine,” she said, leaning closer to the door so he could hear her over the engine. “We may still be here in a day, or a week, or we might be gone by tomorrow morning. It all depends on what’s out there and how safe we can be by remaining here. But if you can’t find us, remember Song Island across the border.”

  “We’ll find you again, Sandra and me. You can count on it.”

  She was convinced that he believed every word. She nodded and stepped back. “Be safe.”

  He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

  She watched him drive off, going up Chance Street in the direction they had come, speeding up with urgency a second later and then, just like that, he was gone, the sound of his truck engine fading with him.

  Good luck. God knows we all need some these days.

  CHAPTER 11

  WILL

  THE FIRST ASSEMBLY of the Lord building was a big, squat structure on the right of South Main Street, about four kilometers from the courthouse. Lancing had a surprisingly large number of houses of worship, most of them more elaborate and bigger than the First Assembly of the Lord. Will was sure they all had basements, but the others were too large and in the busier parts of town. That would draw attention, something they didn’t need at the moment.

  Right now, he was purely in SERE mode—Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape. The grunt in him wanted to stop and fight, to take the ghouls head-on and see what would happen. If it were just him and Danny, he might have done just that. But it wasn’t just them. There was Lara, Carly, and the girls to think about.

  Sometimes it still amazed him what he had gotten himself into. Taking care of civilians was one thing, but Lara…she complicated matters. She made him think differently. Act differently. Take fewer risks. She was a game changer, and for the first time in his life, Will cared about living to be an old man.

  So he knew exactly what Blaine was thinking when the big man had told them he was leaving. Danny knew, too, because Danny had Carly. Before they left the courthouse, they gave Blaine everything he would need to find a car and get it running. They also gave him as much ammo as he could carry. Will figured Blaine would probably end up needing it sooner or later, especially if he had the bad luck to get caught up in the wave of ghouls hunting them. Considering Blaine’s run of luck lately, that was highly likely.

  The First Assembly of the Lord had a parking lot that was mostly gravel. Danny, behind the wheel of the Ranger, pulled into it now, and they heard the crunch of loose pebbles under the truck’s tires. They spotted a couple of cars in the parking lot, but apparently the end of the world hadn’t convinced any of the church’s followers to rush over for salvation. Or if it had, they hadn’t made it.

  They climbed out of the Ranger and grabbed the Remington 870s from the back. The shotguns were always preferable in close-quarters situations, whereas the M4A1s, slung over their backs, were more for long-range work. They wore their stripped-down urban assault vest over T-shirts and cargo pants, and carried just enough equipment for emergencies, with the rest piled up back in the courthouse.

  They entered the church through a side door and were relieved to f
ind that the layout was very simple. It was essentially one big room up front, with a reception area/baptistery that stretched about three meters from the front door, seventy percent of the church made up of the nave and pews; and finally, the lectern. An empty choir section looked back at them from one side of the church as they moved quickly across the communion area. All of it looked bright and sunny under large stained glass windows.

  There were two rooms in the back. One led into a big office that apparently doubled as a sort of guest room, or possibly a consultation room, with couches, comfortable armchairs, and fold-out beds. The second room led into a big closet with janitorial supplies stacked on shelves and a large black piano covered by heavy tarp. Dust swarmed Will like thousands of floating termites when he pulled at the covers to see what was underneath.

  He was surprised they had gone through almost the entire length of the church without encountering one ghoul. That was the case with most of Lancing. The city seemed to have very few of the creatures around, which was both a relief and eerie. Every city, regardless of size, had its share of ghouls. Lancing, on the other hand, was unnervingly lacking.

  They went back into the nave and looked around, and it didn’t take Danny long to find it. He went up the sanctuary, past a dust-covered communion table, and saw the big double doors on the floor, with metal rings for handles.

  “Someone said they wanted a basement?” Danny announced.

  “Big?” Will asked.

  “Big enough.”

  “What about the doors?”

  “Might have to reinforce them on both sides. Everything looks doable.”

  “Let’s open ’er up.”

  Will stood next to Danny and they exchanged a brief nod, then grabbed a ringed handle each and pulled the doors free. Dust and time erupted into the air like a smoke grenade. They fought through the haze and took a quick step back, unslinging their shotguns in the same motion.

  They stared down at complete darkness. There were no windows, so that was a plus.

  Will grabbed three glow sticks from his pouch, snapped them, and tossed them into the basement, spreading the sticks around. Danny did the same with four more. Soon, they could see the basement’s interior—or most of it, anyway, from their angle—against the green neon light. What the glow sticks didn’t reveal, they swept with the tactical flashlights underneath their shotguns.