Road To Babylon | Book 10 | 100 Deep Read online

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I don’t know, because I wasn’t there last night.”

  “We found it on the floor,” Harvey continued as if Roy hadn’t said anything. “Next to Paulie’s body.”

  “Paulie? What happened to Paulie?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I don’t know, Harvey. I don’t know anything.”

  “You didn’t put a knife into the back of his skull?”

  Roy shook his head so violently Keo was afraid it might snap loose from his neck. “No. I swear to you, Harvey. I was here all night, last night. I swear to you!”

  Harvey put his forefinger to his lips. “Not so loud. You’ll wake Mary up.”

  Roy stood up from the armchair. “I was here all night,” he said at barely half the volume. Even so, Keo picked up the trembling in his voice.

  Somewhere behind Keo, Steven shuffled his feet.

  Nervousness? Or anxiousness?

  “Steve-o,” Harvey said.

  “Yes?” Steven said.

  “Come here.”

  Steven didn’t move.

  “I said, come here,” Harvey said, louder.

  What happened to not waking Mary? Keo thought, but of course kept his mouth shut.

  Steven walked over reluctantly.

  Harvey held up his hand.

  The teenager stopped, then looked from Roy to Harvey to Keo. Keo wanted to ask the kid what he was looking at him for. It wasn’t like Keo could do anything for him right now.

  Harvey drew his sidearm—a Beretta 9mm—and walked over to where Steven stood. He took the kid’s hand and placed the gun in it, then squeezed Steven’s fingers to tighten around the grip, because apparently Steven hadn’t figured out how to do that.

  Or, more likely, didn’t want to.

  “Shoot him,” Harvey said. He was staring at Steven, focusing solely on the kid and no one else. If Harvey even noticed Roy suddenly shaking in front of him, he didn’t react in the slightest.

  “Shoot him,” Harvey said again. He took a step back, before saying again, “Shoot him.”

  “I…” Steven said. He held the gun in his trembling right hand.

  For his part, Roy looked uncertain if he should stand still or run for it. His mouth moved, his lips quivering, but nothing came out. Either he was afraid to protest or…

  No, that was it. He was scared shitless.

  “We live by simple rules here, Steve-o,” Harvey said. His eyes never wavered from the kid’s. “Roy broke those rules. He killed one of his own. One of us. That can’t be forgiven.”

  “I didn’t—” Roy said, but never got the chance to finish because Harvey lunged at Roy and punched the old man in the face.

  Roy staggered backward and fell down into the furniture. Blood poured from his nose as he attempted to stanch it with one hand. Then, when that didn’t work, tried with two. That seemed to work better, but too much blood had already stained the front of his white pajamas.

  Harvey turned back to Steven. “Shoot him.”

  “I…” Steven said.

  “Shoot him now.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can!”

  “I can’t!”

  Harvey unslung the FAL and pointed it at Steven. “Shoot him now or I’ll shoot you, you useless piece of shit!”

  Keo didn’t wait to see if that would get Steven to finally pull the trigger. He couldn’t afford to. It was 100% assured that at least one person was going to die tonight, and Keo had no interest in adding a second body to that count.

  So Keo drew the Glock from his holster and fired it.

  Twice.

  Roy jerked in the armchair, then slinked down against the fabric. Somehow, he managed not to slip all the way off the furniture.

  Keo was putting his pistol away when Harvey pointed his battle rifle at him. “What the fuck did you just do?”

  “It’s getting late, and I’m tired,” Keo said. “You wanted the old man dead, the old man’s dead. Now, can I get back and finish my beauty sleep already?”

  Harvey glared at him from behind the FAL’s iron sights. He didn’t lower the rifle.

  One second.

  Two…

  Three…

  “Well?” Keo said.

  Five seconds…

  Six…

  Seven…

  Harvey finally lowered the rifle with a smirk. Then he snatched the Beretta back from Steven. He might have had something else to say—either to Keo or Steven—but a bloodcurdling scream filled the house first.

  A woman in a white nightie raced past Harvey and toward Roy. Mary, Roy’s wife. She was a good twenty years younger than the old man, and still attractive. She was even more beautiful in the daytime, when Keo had first seen her while he helped replace the damaged solar panels in Roy’s backyard.

  That was also the same day Keo took the opportunity to steal Roy’s key.

  The same key that was on the floor now, next to Roy’s murdered body as his wife screamed his name, over and over, and over again.

  Two

  “Why did you do that?”

  “You weren’t going to.”

  “I would have.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  Steven stared at him. It wasn’t one of those I’m going to kill you one of these days stare. It was more of a How did you know? variety. Keo had seen it before. Steven was a kid who was out of his element, which made Keo wonder what he was doing here in the first place.

  “Maybe you’re right,” the teenager finally said.

  I know I’m right, Keo thought, but he only nodded.

  They glanced over as Harvey and Lance came out of Roy’s house. The two had been calming down Mary for the last thirty minutes. Or Lance was, anyway, while Harvey ransacked the place. The big man had sent Keo and Steven outside while he did that, which made Keo wonder what it was exactly that Harvey was looking for and didn’t want either him or Steven to know about.

  Then, the follow-up question: Did he find it?

  From Harvey’s empty hands—not counting his weapons—the answer to the second question was probably no. Unless, of course, Harvey had been searching for something small. In which case he could have easily stashed it in one of his many pockets or even one of the pouches around his generous waist.

  Keo hadn’t heard a peep from Mary for about twenty minutes now. Which meant Lance had done a good job. Keo just hoped that didn’t involve a gun and a bullet. Or a knife. He knew Lance well enough that the other man wouldn’t have resorted to something like that, though Harvey might have ordered him to anyway. And right now, what Harvey said was law.

  “She okay?” Keo asked as two men reached them.

  “What do you care?” Harvey asked. He snickered. “You didn’t give two shits about her old man.”

  “I guess I have a soft spot for the weaker sex.”

  “She ain’t that weak,” Lance said. He dabbled a white rag he’d been holding in his hand against his left cheek and the side of his neck. Finger scratches. Apparently Mary hadn’t gone quiet willingly, though Lance didn’t look too injured. Scratched as all hell, though.

  “She alive?” Keo asked him.

  “Sure,” Lance said. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  Keo shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  “I’m not killing a grieving widow, Chang. What do you think of me?”

  You? Incapable of something like that. But the guy next to you?

  Keo said instead, “Orders are orders, right?”

  “Not tonight, apparently,” Harvey said.

  The big man climbed back onto his horse, a black mare that was just as big as he was. Keo didn’t want to be anywhere near that animal when it started kicking. Or when its rider was riled up, for that matter.

  “Let’s go, it’s getting late,” Harvey said. He reined the mare around and trotted off without bothering to
wait for them.

  Keo hopped onto his chestnut, Steven doing likewise to his white-and-black Paint. Lance put away his rag and jumped into the saddle of another black mare, though his was nowhere near as intimidating as Harvey’s.

  Steven rode off after Harvey while Keo and Lance followed slowly behind. Lance had been slow to move his horse, and Keo recognized someone wanting to have a chat when he saw one. Not that he thought he’d managed to get away with what he’d done to Roy scot-free. Harvey hadn’t said anything, but Keo thought it was just a matter of time. Lance, on the other hand, would have more questions. The man was, after all, the closest thing to a “friend” Keo had in this place.

  “What happened back there?” Lance asked. Keo figured the other man had waited until Steven was out of earshot first.

  “Back where?” Keo said. Not that he didn’t already know the answer. He was just trying to stall for time so he could get his story straight. That old proverb about tangled webs and lies and weaving came to mind.

  “Don’t be a smartass,” Lance said.

  “Am I?”

  “You are.”

  “Be more specific.”

  “At Roy’s, smartass.”

  “What about it?”

  “Why’d you shoot him?” Then, before Keo could answer, “And don’t give me that crap about losing out on your beauty sleep. I know for a damn fact it takes you well past midnight to get any shut-eye.”

  Lance would know what. The man was his bunkmate, after all, and had been since Keo arrived at Shaker Town almost two months ago. They’d had shifts together on what everyone called Shit Duty for almost six weeks now. Two weeks ago, Lance was promoted out of Shit Duty. Then this morning it was Keo’s turn. Besides the fact that he smoked way too much and the stench clung to every inch of his clothes, Lance was all right.

  They rode up the empty streets, passing the many homes that made up Shaker Town’s residential area. Dark windows greeted them on both sides, and if not for the solar-powered LED lights that had replaced the streetlights, they’d be moving under the eerie glow of the full moon.

  Bad things always happen on a full moon, Keo thought. And tonight’s no exception.

  Sorry, Roy.

  “Well?” Lance was saying.

  “The kid didn’t have it in him,” Keo said.

  “So?”

  “Harvey was going to shoot him.”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Lance didn’t answer quite as quickly the second time.

  Finally, he said, “Maybe. I don’t know. Just known him for a week, so…” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

  “I didn’t want to take the chance.”

  “Why? You don’t know Steven from Adam.”

  “He seems like a good kid.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “That’s why I said seemed.”

  Lance chuckled. “All that, because you thought he might be a good kid?”

  “I’ve done dumber things.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Trust me, I have.”

  “I know, I was being sarcastic.”

  “Ah.”

  “That was still a stupid thing to do back there.”

  “It was spur of the moment. I didn’t think it through.”

  “No shit. Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  “I once had a date with a girl from the Ukraine. Everything was going pretty well, until one day I found her sleeping in the same bed as her three brothers. They were all naked. When I asked her why, she said because it was hot. It was ten degrees below freezing at the time.”

  “Huh?” Lance said.

  “You said to tell you something you don’t already know.”

  Lance sighed. “Awesome. Thanks for that little story.”

  Keo grinned. “You’re welcome. And hey, thanks for recommending me to Harvey.”

  “Who said I recommended you?”

  Keo smirked.

  Lance laughed. “Yeah, it was me.”

  “Thanks,” Keo said.

  “Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it,” Lance said, before he rode on forward.

  Keo watched him go and thought, Unfortunately, Lancelot, ol’ buddy, you regretting even knowing me is probably going to happen sooner rather than later.

  Shaker Town had another name, one that appeared on digital Google Maps and plain paper maps as an unincorporated community alongside a sprawling river that flowed downward from the northern part of Georgia’s mountains. It was approximately 40 miles, give or take, by car from the former state capital. Not that anyone would be caught dead in Atlanta these days. Unless, of course, one was looking to be dead. In which case there were easier and less painful methods to go.

  Keo didn’t know anything about Georgia or where anything was located within the southern state of what used to be the United States of America. He’d been to Atlanta once or twice in the past, but they were never vacation trips. It was always in and out, wham bam, thank you, ma’am. But Black Tide knew about the exact locations of everything; so, so did he. At least, the important CliffsNotes version, which was good enough for what he had to do.

  Lance didn’t say much as they followed Steven and Harvey through the burbs of Shaker Town. It was essentially two blocks of homes that looked, more or less, like each other, with just a few minor differences. Not all of them were occupied, but most were. Solar-powered streetlights, the only viable way to keep the lights on these days, lit their path from Roy’s house all the way to the main road about half a mile away from the closest residence.

  Back on the main road that connected Shaker Town’s various areas, there was just one light every fifty meters or so, which meant there was a lot more darkness than lights. Keo didn’t mind riding through mostly shadows. He was well-armed for the occasion—silver bullets in his Glock and silver along the blade at his hip. It was the first time in a long time he’d been carrying guns and, he had to admit, it felt good.

  As they rode up the empty street, Keo was reminded of another place in another time that looked very much like this one. But that wasn’t too much of a surprise. Most former ghoul settlements looked like Shaker Town. There was a reason the ghoul collaborators, during the year-long Purge, had chosen spots like this: Its close proximity to the river provided plenty of food, and the water made the crop fields that swayed in the darkness to the left and right of the road bountiful.

  There was no one working in those fields right now because it was much too late. Roy was the one in charge of a workforce consisting of over 200 people that toiled away in them during the daytime hours.

  Or he used to be, anyway.

  Was Keo feeling a little guilty about the man’s death? Besides, well, shooting him? Yes, he was. Even though he hadn’t done it on purpose, he’d set up Roy to be blamed for his actions last night. There were no two ways about that. Fact was fact. If things went south, he always knew he’d have a patsy.

  Sorry, Roy.

  Guilt? Yeah, there was a lot of that. But Keo was used to it. Most of his life was spent doing things he regretted, though it would be much later that he came to realize that conclusion. At the time of those regretful actions, he’d been blissfully ignorant of his misdeeds. It’d taken a woman to show him the way. Since then, Keo had spent a lot of waking hours trying to deserve her.

  Tonight, he’d taken a step back.

  A big, big step back.

  “Don’t say anything,” Lance was saying.

  Lance was puffing on a cigarette he’d lit up as soon as they left the homes behind. Keo wondered how long it would take before he got secondhand cancer from being in such close proximity to the man. Lance didn’t seem to care, though. The way the man put it, he’d already survived the end of the world, so everything after that was gravy. He’d been riding the gravy train for years now.

  Keo was about to ask why? when he s
aw Harvey up the road. The big man sat in his saddle waiting for them to catch up.

  “Let me handle this,” Lance said, blowing a cloud of smoke.

  “Sure thing,” Keo said, resisting the urge to cough. Instead, he moved his horse just a little farther away from Lance so he didn’t have to suck in the fumes.

  They caught up to Harvey, who started his mare moving again. The three of them continued side by side, with Lance between Keo and the big man.

  “Harvey,” Lance started to say.

  “Go on,” Harvey said. Then, off Lance’s puzzled look, “I want to talk to Chang alone for a minute.”

  Lance glanced over at Keo, who nodded back at him. “See you back at the ranch.”

  The other man pursed his lips, and Keo wondered just how much the last two months of friendship he’d developed with Lance meant. Was Lance really willing to throw his recent promotion away to go to bat for Keo? And what else?

  “Don’t be a bitch, Lancelot, head on out,” Harvey said. He didn’t try to hide his annoyance with Lance’s lack of immediate response.

  “See you back at the ranch,” Lance said to Keo before riding on ahead of them.

  Keo and Harvey continued side by side with nothing but darkness around them. Lance appeared in a pool of light up ahead. He looked a few million miles away at the moment.

  “He wasn’t going to do it,” Harvey said. He hadn’t wasted very much time.

  “Who?” Keo said.

  “The kid.”

  “Steven.”

  “How many kids you see tonight?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  Harvey grunted. “You have a smart mouth.”

  “But not a very smart brain.”

  “People tell you that?”

  “Too many to count.”

  “They’re right.”

  Keo sighed. “I know.”

  “But he wasn’t going to do it,” Harvey continued. “I could see it in his eyes. He wouldn’t have been able to pull the trigger.”

  “He’s just a kid.”

  “He’s fifteen.”

  “That’s a kid.”

  “Not these days.”

  Keo didn’t say anything because Harvey was right. Before The Purge, fifteen was young. These days, you grew up fast or you didn’t grow up at all. Keo had met plenty of “kids” that stopped being that when they saw their loved ones and friends and neighbors turn into ghoulish monsters that tried to eat them.