The Stones of Angkor (Purge of Babylon, Book 3) (38 page)

Gaby glanced over at Nate. “Are you doing all of this just for me?”

He gave her a serious look. “Maybe. I don’t know. But I wasn’t lying back there. I don’t like the idea of kids being hand-delivered to those things by other human beings. It makes my skin crawl.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He drove in silence for a while, before asking her, “How good is Will? Tell me the truth.”

“He’s really good. Just do what he says and follow his lead, and our chances of coming out of this alive are decent.”

“I was hoping for more than decent.”

“Yeah, well, hope springs eternal, Louisiana.”

*

Nate pulled off
I-49 five miles later, taking a small two-lane road for the next ten minutes.

“Sandwhite?” she asked.

Nate nodded. “This is the main entrance. From here, we’ll go to the main parking, which is exactly in the middle of the park for easy access to all the other areas.”

They passed large sections of undeveloped land, broken up by the occasional wall of trees to the left and right of them. There were buildings and small businesses, but no houses or farms that she could see. It was quiet, almost serene, but Gaby couldn’t shake the feeling there were things inside the woods watching her.

Eventually, Nate slowed down and took a right onto another two-lane road. It went east for about five minutes, before curving left for another two, then arching back right again. They passed more thick trees, so many and so tightly packed together that it was impossible to see slivers of sunlight between them.

Gaby shivered slightly at the thought of being lost in there. It would take days, maybe weeks, to find her way out. That was, if she survived the first night…

“You okay?” Nate asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How much farther?”

“One more mile.”

They passed a group of tanned buildings. There were three similarly colored trucks parked in front of them, but she didn’t look quickly enough to catch the sign up front.

Then there were more trees. Everywhere. She had never seen so many trees in her life.

Ten thousand acres. Twelve miles of trail. Where do we even start?

She was about to give up ever reaching anything resembling civilization again when Nate slowed down and pulled onto an asphalt parking lot. It wasn’t nearly as big as she had expected, given the size of the park. There were about thirty to forty vehicles already inside, with plenty of empty slots for at least a hundred more. The wall of trees made it look foreboding, like the green scenery could collapse in on them at any moment.

“I thought it’d be bigger,” she said.

“Most of the hunters like to park around the area so they can reach their favorite hunting grounds faster. The people who park here are mostly campers and hikers. There’s a bayou about a mile’s walk where you can do some fishing.”

“You do come here a lot.”

“What can I say? I’m easily bored. Hunting and fishing take up a lot of time.”

Will pulled up ahead of them, sliding his motorcycle into one of two open spaces flanked by a white and a red truck. They were both much bigger than the Saleen and swallowed up the sports truck as it eased into the empty spot next to Will’s bike.

Will was already off the Triumph with his M4A1 in his hands by the time she and Nate climbed out with their packs and rifles.

The air around them was thick with the sound of animals. There was more wildlife here than she had seen or heard in a long time, though they were all either perched on branches or high up in the trees. Land animals, like in the cities, didn’t last very long these days.

“Nate,” Will said. “What’s the highest point in the park? Some place where we can get a good look at what’s around us?”

Nate thought about it. “Trail #8 takes us north to Sandwhite Point. It’s a hill and should give us our best view of the surrounding area.”

“There was something that looked like official buildings about a mile back, with some trucks in front of them.”

“Game warden’s office.”

“All right. If anything happens and we get separated, we fall back to those buildings to meet up. Whatever happens, the two of you stay together. Understand?”

Nate and Gaby nodded.

“Lead the way, Nate,” Will said.

Nate headed off across the parking lot, she and Will following.

The animal noises seem to increase in intensity as they neared the wall of trees, as if they knew humans were approaching. Her chest tightened as she took her first step inside the woods, the almost-choking chilly air wrapping around her fingers.

God help me to survive this place…

WILL

Will spent most
of his career moving across hot deserts and rocky mountainsides before trading it all for hard concrete and steel jungles. There were woods in Afghanistan, but they were nothing like the thick, deep canvas of Sandwhite Wildlife State Park.

Nate was up front, keeping to Trail #8, with Gaby behind him. They were both moving at a fast clip while maintaining complete silence. Will kept them within range while drifting behind a bit, watching for signs of movement around them. The last thing he needed was to get outflanked in here.

Squirrels raced along branches above his head, and woodcocks fluttered when they got too close.

The trail was essentially a dirt path, approximately two meters wide. He saw old tracks—truck tires and faded shoe prints, some trampled over by much fresher prints. Bare feet.

Ghouls.

They were, without a doubt, moving behind enemy lines.

After about twenty minutes on Trail #8, Will caught up with them. “How far to Sandwhite Point?”

“Maybe another ten minutes,” Nate said.

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure,” he said, pointing at a sign about ten meters ahead that read, “Sandwhite Point” with an arrow pointing up the trail.

“Good enough,” Will said.

They continued up Trail #8.

There was supposed to be a massive deer population in the park, but so far he hadn’t seen a single one. Except for the birds and animals high above them, it seemed as if they were the only living beings moving on the ground.

They walked for another fourteen minutes before they finally reached Sandwhite Point. It wasn’t much—a wide, circular clearing with a cliff at the end. Four wooden picnic tables were spread across the grounds, faded trash bins on opposite sides, and a couple of crushed beer cans half-buried in the dirt. There was an opening at the top of the clearing, which allowed sunlight to pour through. They had been moving through heavy canopies for so long that finally feeling heat against his skin again brought an odd sense of comfort.

“Sandwhite Point,” Nate said.

“It’s not much,” Gaby said.

“Nope. But it’s the highest point in the entire park.” He started toward the cliff, Gaby and Will following. “We’re still at the northern edge of the 10,000 acres that make up the park. Won’t be able to see everything from here, but we’ll be able to see a lot of it.”

Will glanced down at his watch: 12:45 
p.m.
“If we don’t find anything in two hours, we need to start heading back to the vehicles and looking for shelter for the night.”

“I don’t mind telling you, I’m looking forward to that,” Nate said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“But you’ve been here before,” Gaby said.

“Yeah, but it was never like
this
. Quiet and empty, and…”

“Dead,” she finished.

“Yeah.”

Nate and Gaby reached the cliff first, when Nate suddenly went into a crouch, grabbing Gaby’s arm and pulling her down with him.

Will followed suit, his rifle raised, searching the area behind them. “What?”

“Oh my God,” Gaby said, her voice breathless. “Will, come see this.”

When he was sure there was no one behind them, Will hurried over, keeping low. He crouched next to Gaby and peered over the cliff.

Where he expected to see a valley teeming with nature, there was instead a large, ragged man-made clearing at least half a kilometer in diameter. It was a camp, filled with gray, beige, green, and camouflage tents. He was looking down at a sea of thick, heavy canvas spread out to accommodate a large population that didn’t belong among the greens and trees that surrounded it.

Will had begun counting, starting at the south end, only to stop when he hit fifty tents and realized he wasn’t even close to the middle yet.

He fished out binoculars from his pack and peered through them.

It was impossible to miss the large blue tent in the center. It looked like some kind of grand circus tent, and was literally and figuratively placed—purposefully, he assumed—in the very center of the camp. A long stream of people moved in and out of it, including men in white Level B hazmat suits, the sunlight glinting off the lenses of gas masks either over their faces or hanging from their waists.

“Collaborators,” Gaby whispered.

“Not all of them,” Will said.

There were at least two, maybe three hundred people for every collaborator he spotted. Regular people. Men and women, boys and girls, old and young. They moved between tents, reminding him of homeless refugees saved from some disastrous, unwinnable war.

Maybe not so far from the truth…

“What the hell is going on?” Nate whispered.

It was a good question, because the people down there didn’t look afraid. He saw small circles of people gathered around campfires, and smelled the very strong aroma of smoked meat filling the air. The voices drifting up from the camp were not dripping with mortal terror. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was looking at some kind of mass cookout.

There was hurricane fencing around the camp, and a group of twenty to thirty men were swinging axes at the north side, felling trees to make more room. A couple of men in Level B hazmat suits stood watch, though there was an easiness, a sense of familiarity and cooperation between the two groups that was obvious even from this distance. They looked more like friends instead of captors and captives.

There were vehicles on the other side of the fence—trucks, mostly. He counted thirty to forty in all, including a half-dozen green military five-ton transport trucks he hadn’t seen since his days in the Army.

“I’ve seen this before,” Gaby whispered.

“Where?” Nate asked.

“Back in school. During our World War II phase of world history. This reminds me of concentration camps.”

“Is that what this is? A prison for human survivors?”

“I think we’re looking at something else,” Will said, lowering the binoculars.

“Like what?” Nate asked.

“Like what the ghouls have planned for us. First The Purge, then the blood farms, and now this.”

“Yeah, but what is ‘this’?” Gaby said.

“You’re right, it’s some kind of camp,” Will said. “But I don’t think it’s a concentration camp. Maybe the better analogy would be an internment camp.”

“What’s the difference?”

“FDR illegally detained over 100,000 Americans of Japanese ancestry during World War II. They weren’t harmed, and they were fed and allowed to work, but they were still captives. It’s one of the biggest black stains in American history, but people survived it, and they were eventually freed and allowed to return to society.”

“They look almost…content,” Gaby said, staring down at the camp.

“Blaine said there were thousands of people in the Beaumont mall when he showed up, and by the time he left, they were gone. Where did they go?”

“You think they were brought here?”

“Maybe not here specifically, but maybe a place like this one.”

Will shook his head, processing the information.

What the hell have you been doing out here, Kate?

“I think we’re looking at the next phase of whatever final solution the ghouls are moving toward,” he said. “This…is something new. Something we haven’t seen before. And it’s big, so it has to be a pretty significant part of their plan.”

Gaby shivered next to him, though she did her best to hide it. “What now?”

“The blue tent.”

“What about it?”

“It might be worth seeing what’s going on inside. It’s the center of whatever’s happening here, literally and figuratively.”

“You mean you want to sneak in there?”

“The suit,” Will said. “The one Harris wore. It’s still in the truck?”

Nate nodded. “We left it in the back seat.”

“Will,” Gaby said, “you’re not seriously thinking about putting that suit on and going
in
there?”

“That blue tent,” Will said. He couldn’t look away from it. “The answer is in there.”

“There has to be another way.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

She struggled for an answer, and finally said, “I don’t know.”

“There’s no reason why they wouldn’t think I belong if I wear the suit. Especially with the gas mask on.”

“You hope,” she said.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

He tried to eyeball the size of the blue tent. It had to be at least fifty meters in diameter, easily half the size of a football field. What the hell was going on in there? What would they need something that big for?