The Stones of Angkor (Purge of Babylon, Book 3) (9 page)

“Close the door first.”

She nodded and closed the door after her. “Are we taking them back with us?”

“Some. Maybe ten at first. See how that works out, then act accordingly.”

“We could definitely use more guns.”

He nodded. “You can never go wrong with more guns, as long as you can trust the finger pulling the trigger.”

She stood next to him and looked out the window at the quiet, empty city below. It looked more dead from behind bars than it had from the rooftop. They didn’t speak for a long time, something Gaby had become used to with Will.

“Thanks again for bringing me with you,” she said after a while.

“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could hack it.”

A sudden flush of pride raced through her, and she did her best to not let it show on her face.

Instead, she reached through the bars, rasped her knuckles against the glass window, and got back a dull thudding sound. “Can they get through this?”

“Doubtful. Hospital windows are made to be permanently closed and nearly impossible to break.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s to keep the patients from deciding to end it all when times get tough.”

“That’s a pleasant thought.”

He glanced back at the door briefly, as if to make sure it was still closed. “They’ve been really lucky here so far. I think Mike knows it, too. That’s why he’s so desperate to get them to the island.”

“There are a lot of long faces in those hallways.”

“They look like good people, so there’s that.”

“Pretty decent, yeah.”

“It won’t hurt to bring them over. Mike would be a valuable asset…with some sleep.”

“And the others?”

“Danny and I have experience sanding down kids and turning them into decent soldiers.”

She smiled. “Did Mike say what they’re planning to do with the silver bullets we brought over?”

“There’s an Archers Sports and Outdoors a few streets down with supplies he’s been itching to get at. The last time he tried to take them was about three months ago, and they lost a couple of guys.”

“So we’ll be here for at least tonight.”

“Homesick already?”

“Nah,” she said. “Just missing that kitchen freezer, that’s all.” Then she added, “And the cold drinks. And the ice. And the showers. But mostly the showers.”

*

There wasn’t a
lot to do until tomorrow, so after washing her face with warm bottled water in the bathroom, Gaby sat on the bed, stripped down her M4, and cleaned it piece by piece while she still had some light from the window. She took out a small pouch with cleaning solvents, an old toothbrush, lint-free cloth, and a bore brush for the job. It was the most basic cleaning kit they could put together using equipment available at the hotel.

She looked up when there was a knock on her door. “Come in.”

A pair of familiar blue eyes and bad stubble peeked in at her through the open door. Benny shot a curious look at the pieces of the rifle spread out on the white bedsheet in front of her.

“You busy?” he asked.

“No. What’s up?”

“We’re about to have dinner. They wanted me to call you. Well, I volunteered.”

“Where?”

“Huh?”

“Where do you guys eat?”

“Oh. At the central hub.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll be over when I’m done.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll…” She thought he was going to stammer his way to something else, but he apparently decided to just leave instead.

Gaby picked up the bore brush and went back to cleaning the M4. The old Gaby wouldn’t have had the patience for something so tedious, but that girl was gone. If the new her had learned anything from three months with Will and Danny, it was that no one was going to depend more on her gear than her.

Out here, the difference between life and death was a weapon that worked the way it was supposed to.

*

If she thought
the sight of the hospital’s survivors was depressing, the dinner wasn’t much of an improvement. Gaby spent the thirty minutes in the central hub listening to Will, Mike, and Amy talking, while people came and went in a never-ending stream. Although Benny told her it was dinner, it was really eat-when-you-feel-like-it time. Food consisted of canned meat, MREs, and bags of noodles washed down with warm soft drinks and water. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single can of fruit dripped in syrup to be found.

Even with the bright LED lights, the room looked and felt uninviting.

“There are others out there,” Will was saying. “In other states. I’m not sure if it’s anything resembling an organized resistance, but they’re out there. We’re not alone by any means.”

“That’s good to know,” Mike said. “One of the disadvantages of locking ourselves in here is the lack of information. Even Jen hasn’t really brought anything back about what’s happening out there.”

“Has she left Louisiana yet?”

“Not yet,” Amy said.

“What are your immediate priorities?” Will asked Mike.

“Those supplies in the Archers, first.”

“What are you running low on?”

“Everything. That’s one of the reasons why I want to start shuttling people to Song Island. Starting with the women and children.”

“I’ll agree to that. What I don’t want is for you to load everyone into a van and drive down there. We’re not ready for that kind of influx.”

“And you’re right to be wary of that,” Mike nodded. “We’ve been here for eleven months. Another month won’t kill us.”

“In terms of medical supplies,” Amy said, “what are you looking for?”

Will took out a piece of folded paper and handed it to her. “A lot of supplies for everyday use and the occasional emergencies.”

Amy scanned the sheet of paper, then nodded at Mike. “I can fill everything on here.”

“So that’s settled,” Mike said. “When do you head back?”

“I’m not in any hurry,” Will said. “If you want, I can help out with the Archers tomorrow.”

“I’d be an idiot to turn down an Army Ranger’s offer.”

The two men shook hands.

*

After dinner, Gaby
walked back to her room. She saw a boy watching her from a partially open door. He had a pale face and hollow eyes, and for a brief instant she thought she was looking at a ghoul child.

The boy closed the door as she walked past.

She finally made it back to her room, feeling less than full after dinner. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, because Mike and the others went out of their way to welcome them. The food wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t island food.

There was still enough light outside, so she decided to strip down her Glock and clean it, too, and was slightly annoyed when there was another knock on her door.

“Come in.”

It was Will this time. He closed the door softly behind him.

“Thank God,” she said. “I thought it was that Benny kid again.”

“He likes you.”

“He’s a teenager, Will. He likes anything with tits and ass.”

That got an amused grin from him.

“What’s up?” she asked.

Will had a small bundle wrapped in red felt and tied with brown twine in his hand. He tossed it to her. “Happy early birthday.”

“It’s not—” She stopped herself.

Oh my God.

“I forgot,” she said quietly. “I can’t believe I forgot my own birthday.”

“Lara didn’t. Eighteen, right?”

“Nineteen.”

“Right. Nineteen.”

“Can I…?”

“Knock yourself out, birthday girl.”

“It won’t be official until tomorrow.”

“Close enough.”

Gaby pulled at the twine and it slipped effortlessly free. She realized she was trembling slightly when she peeled the felt wrapping to reveal a can of Dole Pineapple Chunks.

“It’s the last can on the island,” Will said. “Lara saved it two weeks ago to give it to you. She’s been hiding it in the freezer without telling anyone, so…” Will put a finger to his lips. “Mum’s the word.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I told her we should have gotten you something else. Like jewelry. Teenage girls love jewelry, right?”

Gaby gave him a wry look before beaming. “This is great, Will. Thank you.”

“Yeah?”

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. I mean it. You guys are awesome.”

“Glad to hear it.” He fished a plastic spork out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “Go crazy, kid.”

Gaby anxiously pulled the tab off the can.

Will headed for the door, singing badly off-key, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”

Gaby was too busy fishing out a chunk of pineapple dripping with heavy, artificially-flavored syrup to reply. She plopped it into her mouth and sighed with bliss.

*

Amy warned her
to keep her blinds closed at night, and she did. Even so, once darkness fell, Gaby heard them almost immediately.

She knew the ghouls could climb, and there were enough handholds along the sides of the hospital for them to use. Even so, she was stunned by the speed with which they appeared once the sun set. It had been so long since she was this close to a ghoul, she almost cringed at the realization that they were
outside her window at this very moment.

She sat on the floor, back against the side of the bed, and listened to them moving. The M4 lay across her lap, the magazine in it, like the ones around her waist, loaded with silver bullets. They had stopped carrying regular ammo a long time ago. Silver killed a human being just as well as a ghoul.

The window blinds were made of thick, hypoallergenic fabric that did a tremendous job of reflecting sunlight in the daytime, and was just as effective at night against moonlight. She could barely make out the lone, thin figure clinging to the windowsill on the other side. She didn’t have to see it to know what it was, though. There was nothing human about the way it moved, the thin, almost skeletal shadow it cast against the moonlight in the background.

How many were out there now, climbing the sides of the hospital? A hundred? A thousand?

Gaby swore she could hear them moving in the floors under her, too, scurrying about like cockroaches. She hadn’t heard them earlier today, even though she knew they were down there the whole time. It was the night, she thought. They lived—they
thrived
—at night.