The Bones of Valhalla (Purge of Babylon, Book 9) Page 28

  He nodded.

  “Then why do I keep getting this feeling you’re not telling me everything? That you’re holding something back? Not just from me, but from Lara too?” She stared at him with none of the reluctance or apprehension that Blaine still couldn’t overcome, and might never be able to. “Tell me you’ve told us everything, Will. Tell me the truth.”

  “I’ve told you everything,” he lied.

  “Everything,” she repeated.

  “Everything,” he lied again.

  She nodded and sat back in the chair. “So what now? Sit here until Lara radios back with news?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hate waiting. Have I told you that?”

  “Maybe…”

  “You don’t remember?”

  He shook his head.

  “I guess it’s not important. You only remember the important things, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes sense. Everything else is just a pain in the ass.” She swiveled around to the desk and picked up the pieces and continued working. “Do you remember all those times on the island?” A smile creased her lips. “When you and Danny taught me all of this? Those were still some of the best days of my life.”

  The memories weren’t there. Not in their entirety, anyway. There were flashes, visions that came and went. Some were more cohesive than others; but many were just fragments, reminders that they served no purpose other than to cloud his mind and divert him from the truly important things.

  “Danny wanted to come,” Gaby was saying. “You know why he didn’t, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do?” she said, unable to hide her surprise.

  He knew, because he could hear everything on the boat even while shuttered away inside the cabin below deck. If not the actual sounds that made up the conversations, then the vibrations that resulted and traveled along the ship’s hull. It was one of the many talents he had developed very early on after his transformation—to hear without actually hearing. But he didn’t know how to put those things into words, just like he didn’t know how to explain the hundreds (thousands?) of other things the change had bestowed upon him—the gifts that came from the curse.

  So he only hissed, “Yes.”

  “I keep forgetting how different you are from the run-of-the-mill ghoul. Are all the other blue eyes like you?”

  “Not like me.”

  “You know what I mean. I know they’re not like you. Thank God for that. I meant in terms of everything else.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Mabry? He’s blue-eyed too, isn’t he?”

  “Yes…and no.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “What’s that mean?”

  “He’s more.”

  “More how?” she asked.

  He’s the everything, and the nothing. The nowhere, and the everywhere.

  The beginning…and the end.

  The town was empty as he made his way through it, slipping around buildings and up and down rooftops. He could see and smell evidence that they had been here many times before, doing what they did best—searching, always searching—but there wasn’t a single black eyes in the area tonight.

  The humans were gathered along the highways that led into the city. A dozen here, another dozen behind them, and more still that he couldn’t see, on the other sides of the city. The stink of fear clung to their pores underneath their black uniforms, trails of sweat behind the gas masks despite the cold. Anxiety radiated off them, the knowledge that they had been summoned here to take up positions against…something.

  “You’re close now, aren’t you? Yes. You are. You’re very close.”

  Like all the other times, he didn’t answer. Instead, he glided through the night underneath, over and around the highway. It would be so easy to reach out and kill the human traitors, but he resisted the urge.

  Not here, not now.

  Besides, they didn’t matter. Only the plan mattered. The mission.

  Plan G, as Danny called it.

  “That’s everything?” Lara had asked him, back on the boat. “That’s the plan? All of it?”

  “Yes,” he had lied.

  The city loomed in front of him now, its buildings dark and proud under the moonlight, like sentries watching for signs of his encroachment.

  “You’re so, so close.”

  The voice had gotten stronger, more insistent. It took everything he had to quell it as he scaled down the side of the building. He expected the blue eyes that guarded the city to come out in search of him, but they remained where they were.

  In there, with Mabry. Always with Mabry.

  “Come closer.”

  It didn’t take him long to reach the edge of the city, even taking every precaution. He didn’t worry about the humans and concentrated on the overwhelming presence of the brood before him. He could feel their unease, taste the uncertainty in the air around them. There were so many, packed into one place. Every building, every home, every office. The side and back streets were empty when they shouldn’t have been, but the emptiness was a lie, an obvious ploy to lure him in.

  They knew he was coming, because Mabry knew.

  Thousands. Hundreds of thousands.

  Millions…

  He retreated. Slowly at first, then faster.

  And faster still…

  “Gaby.”

  She opened groggy eyes while her hand instinctively moved an inch or two closer to the rifle leaning against the desk she had laid her head on to sleep.

  “You’re back,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, even as she pulled her hand away from the weapon.

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  She opened a bottle of water and took a drink. “I’m never going to get used to how quiet you can move. Even with all that stuff on. What were you doing out there?”

  “Scouting.”

  She smiled. “Danny was right. You can take the man out of the Ranger, but you can’t take the Ranger out of the man. So what did you find out?”

  “Nothing new.”

  “What about the collaborators?”

  “They’ve arrived.”

  “Where, exactly?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “They don’t matter.”

  “Right. The plan.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “So Ashley wasn’t lying after all.”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think she was anyway.”

  “Lara?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I haven’t heard back from them yet.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s only a few minutes past midnight, and she did say this was probably going to go all the way till morning.” The chair creaked as she leaned back on it and let out a yawn. “Do you ever get tired?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “But you can get hurt. Like back at Gallant.”

  “Yes.”

  “You can die, too.” She added quickly, uncertainly, “Again, I mean.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “I feel like Blaine sometimes. As much as I’ve gotten used to being around you—this new you—there are still things I’m never going to understand, and I’m not sure if I really want to.”

  “Gaby,” he said.

  She looked over at him, suddenly alarmed by the tone of his voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “The woman.”

  “What woman?”

  “The collaborator.”

  “What about her?”

  “I need her.”

  “You need her?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a moment of confusion on her face, but it was quickly replaced by understanding.

  Then something else, something… Disgust? Fear? Or maybe it was resignation, an acceptance of the way things were. The way he was.

  “I need her,” he said again.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked quietly, as if afraid Blaine and the woman would overhear outsid
e the office.

  “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “I need more. I need to be stronger.”

  “What about back on the Trident?”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  “Because of what happened at Gallant?”

  “Yes,” he lied. “Because of what happened at Gallant.”

  She looked past him and out the window—at the truck, but mostly for the woman in the backseat, whom she couldn’t see from her angle but knew was out there.

  Her eyes finally returned to him. “Is there another way?”

  “No…”

  “There has to be…”

  “There isn’t.”

  Her face darkened, anger replacing the uncertainty. “Then why are you telling me this? You could have just taken her. It’s not like Blaine or I could have stopped you.”

  “You needed to know.”

  “Needed to know what, Will?”

  “Who I am. What I am.”

  She sighed, then nodded and turned back to the desk, and said quietly, “Then I guess you should do what you have to do.”

  Blaine was asleep in the front seat of the truck when he opened the door and took the woman out. Her eyes flew wide and she might have screamed, except his hand was over her mouth before she could utter a single noise and he carried her out of the side door and into the darkness.

  He took her far from the garage, far from Gaby, before laying her down on a rooftop. Her eyes, as wide as he had ever seen a pair of eyes, focused on him instantly and every inch of her body shook uncontrollably and never stopped.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  It seemed like the thing to say, even though he didn’t mean it. He didn’t know this woman, but he had no ill feelings toward her. She was simply there and he needed the precious liquid pumping through her veins.

  “Please. Please,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  “But I did everything you wanted. I even killed for you.”

  “Not for me.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “You don’t have to,” he hissed, and bent over her.

  She whimpered as he bit down. Her hands clutched at him, fingernails digging into his skin. He didn’t feel it and continued to feed, drawing the life force out of her one slurp at a time.

  Over and over and over, until she stopped thrashing and lay still in his arms.

  I’m sorry, he thought, but the words sounded hollow even in his mind, so he concentrated on the feeding instead.

  She tasted sweeter than the two from the Trident, and for a moment—just a moment—he allowed himself to savor her in the way he was meant to. The way Mabry always intended him to.

  “Come closer,” Mabry beckoned somewhere in the back of his mind. “Come closer…”

  Book Three

  The Last Rodeo

  23

  Keo

  “Excuse me, but I thought I just heard you say there might be millions of those bloodsucking things in Houston right now, waiting for us to walk right up to their front door and ring the dinner bell. But that couldn’t have been right, because what suicidal moron would volunteer for something like that?”

  Keo grinned to himself. He had to admit, Peele had a way with words for someone who looked like he should be filling out people’s tax forms and not volunteering to lead the tank portion of an attack on the enemy position. Then again, Keo had met plenty of people who didn’t look like they could defend themselves, but proved otherwise when the chips were down. Peele may or may not be one of those folks, but he was certainly asking all the right questions.

  “And how do we even know this Frank guy will be there?” Peele continued. “For all we know, he might not even make it into position. And then what? We’ll be slugging it out with a few thousand—you did say thousands, right?—collaborators who probably came better armed this time after what we did to them during R-Day.”

  Because Frank is a blue-eyed ghoul. Because he can go where we can’t. Because if you knew the truth about ol’ Frank, you’d piss your pants.

  “Frank will be there,” Lara said. “He’s the most sure-thing part of this plan. It’s everyone else you should be worried about.”

  “Who is he?” Cole asked. The pilot stood with his arms across his chest like he didn’t want to be there.

  And yet here he was, along with Peele and Alex, another one of the tankers. Of the three, Cole stood out. He was, after all, the guy who had been doing Warthog strafing runs all across Texas ever since Mercer’s war began. Of the three pilots on Black Tide, he had been the only one to volunteer. It made perfect sense to Keo that Cole would be here. Only the grizzled veteran would be able to shake off what he had done in Mercer’s name in such a short turnaround. It wouldn’t surprise Keo at all if the other two were too disillusioned to ever climb back into a cockpit ever again, though to hear Cole tell it, he was on the verge of convincing at least one to join the fun.

  It’s all fun and games until the bullets fly, right, boys?

  They were inside a large room in the command area of Black Tide’s facility. It didn’t have the size of the earlier room where Keo had met with Cameron, but then it also wasn’t riddled with bullets and blood. It was big enough to accommodate all eight of them, including the two R’s—Rhett and Riley—while still leaving room for a few more bodies.

  “The kind of intel he’s sending back takes a lot of work for one man,” Cole continued. “And you say he’s been out there this entire time. So who exactly is this guy, that he’s able to do all of this?”

  Keo couldn’t tell if that was suspicion in Cole’s voice or just straightforward curiosity. Maybe it was a little of both, and from the looks on Alex’s and Peele’s faces, it was a question that was also on their minds.

  “He was an Army Ranger before all of this,” Lara said. Her voice was steady and confident, and if Keo didn’t know any better, he would swear she didn’t have a single doubt about Frank or his plans. “He served in Afghanistan, then was part of a SWAT unit. When I tell you that he’s the most sure-thing part of this plan, I’m not exaggerating. This is what he does. And he’s very good at it.”

  Alex and Peele exchanged a quick look, but Cole remained unmoved. Or, at least, Keo couldn’t read anything on that lined face of his.

  “Why didn’t you say that before?” Alex said. He was the youngest by far—twenty-two, if that, with dark blond hair. Keo thought he looked a bit like Danny, if Danny were shorter and learned to shut up once or twice.

  “A Ranger,” Peele said. “That explains a lot.”

  Lara looked over at Danny, standing next to her behind the table with the map of Texas. That was a signal for him to pitch in.

  “We served in Afghanistan together,” Danny said. “He’s a good bloke. Smart as a whip. The guy excels at SERE and you should take everything he sends back as gospel. I can’t count the number of times I’ve put my life in his hands. A lot of people have. Lara, Keystone Cops over there, to name just a few who wouldn’t be here if not for him.”

  “If his intel is correct, that just confirms we’ll be running into a buzz saw,” Cole said.

  “Speak for yourself,” Peele said. “You’ll be in the sky. We’ll be the ones on the ground with all those collaborator assholes.”

  “You volunteered, remember?” Rhett said. He had kept quiet while Lara did the briefing, and this was the first time he had spoken up in almost twenty minutes. Keo had almost forgotten he was even in the room with them. Then again, he wondered if anyone remembered he was present, since he hadn’t said a word since the meeting began.

  “I know that, Rhett,” Peele said. “But I didn’t know this was what we’re going up against.”

  “It doesn’t matter how many are out there,” Lara said. “I’m not asking you to win. Your objective—your only objective—is to keep them away from Willie Boy while they finish the mission.”

 
“That’s this guy Frank’s group?” Alex said. “Codename Willie Boy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who came up with that, anyway?”

  “I did,” Danny said.

  “What’s it mean?” Alex asked. “I get that we’re Rolling Thunder and Cole’s Eagle, but what the hell’s a Willie Boy?”

  “Trade secret. Maybe I’ll tell you when this is over.”

  “So we’ll just be a distraction,” Peele said, still focused almost entirely on Lara. “Keep as many of them off Willie Boy’s back as possible?”

  “Yes,” Lara nodded.

  “For how long?”

  “As long as you can.”

  “What if we’re forced to retreat?”

  “As long as you can,” Lara repeated. “I’m not asking you to sacrifice yourselves. We just need to give Willie Boy every single second possible.”

  That seemed to appease Peele somewhat, and he nodded. He had a good ten years on Alex, but looked young next to the aging Cole.

  “While they’ll be busy with you on the ground and Eagle in the air, Striker will assist Willie Boy,” Lara said. “Together, they’ll complete the mission.”

  “Just like that?” Cole said.

  “Just like that,” Danny said. “What, it should be harder?”

  “Is it really going to be that easy?” Alex asked. He sounded doubtful, but Keo thought he heard a little bit of hope in there as well.

  “It won’t be that easy,” Lara said. “None of this is going to be easy in the slightest.”

  She stared at all three of them, one after another, and gave time for her words to sink in. Keo had to admit, it was the right play. It was the same as telling them that she wasn’t hiding anything, that she wasn’t going to bullshit them about how hard all of this was going to be.

  “Everyone will have to do their part,” Lara finally continued. “We need to give Willie Boy every chance in the world to succeed. That means holding on for as long as you can. As long as you can.”

  “How does it work?” Alex asked. “Not the plan, but everything else.”

  “The ghouls share a hive-like mind. This King Ghoul, as Danny calls it, controls them through a psychic link. Don’t ask me how it all works, it just does. You’ve all been out there; you’ve seen them for yourselves. The things we don’t know about them could fill a book. But we know enough, thanks to Frank.”