The Gates of Byzantium

CHAPTER 32


LARA




LARA HID AMONG the trees that lined the beach, one hand holding the radio, the other gripping the Benelli shotgun so tightly that her fingers were white. She watched them coming from a distance. They had been coming for a while, the sounds of their loud boat motors reaching the island well before they did.

They looked like toy boats from this distance, and she could see men clinging to the sides—the starboard, or port, or whatever they called those sections. The boats were moving so fast they looked like they were about to take off into the sky at any second, the front half literally hopping over the surface of the lake only to smash back down again, then going right back up. She was amazed none of the men had been tossed into the water already.

She heard Will and Danny talking back and forth on the radio. She fought the urge to butt in, reminding herself this was what they did—they cracked jokes in the middle of a crisis. She had learned a long time ago to give them their space.

Finally, the boats were close enough Lara could actually see with the naked eye that the men onboard were coming fully armed. That was when she heard the crack of Danny’s rifle, and the boats seemed to slow down all of a sudden.

Danny shot again, then a third time.

Warning shots. If Danny wanted to hit them, he would have hit them. Of course, the men on the boats didn’t know that, and they started firing back. Or firing, anyway, but not necessarily back at anything, especially Danny, high up in the Tower across the island.

Will would never waste bullets like that.

Then Danny shot again, and one of the men in the first boat doubled over and grabbed his leg. A second shot, and another man doubled over in the second boat. Danny’s third and final shot sent black smoke billowing from the first boat’s motor.

Damn, he’s good.

She knew full well Danny could have killed everyone on the boats if he wanted to, especially with that new scope mounted on his rifle. These men were getting a second chance, and the irony was that they didn’t even know it. But they did get the hint that their attack wasn’t going well and began to turn around.

Lara watched the boats heading back to the marina.

Well, at least they’re not total idiots.

*

CARLY WAS WAITING for her at the hotel patio. They had both changed clothes at least three times today.

Clearing out the bones from the hotel grounds was easier than cleaning out the hotel hallways. Not all of the ghouls had been exposed to sunlight, and they were forced to wear respirator masks that Sarah brought out from a supply closet just to keep down what little breakfast they had managed earlier in the morning.

Dragging the twisted, pruned, and blackened bodies into the sunlight and watching them turn to fine white mist was the kind of experience Lara didn’t think she would ever forget. It was both fascinating and soul-destroying, and she remembered thinking, This is what the human race has become. Nothing more than dust in the wind.

Scrubbing the blood and flesh from the hotel hallways and lobby had taken even more effort. By the time they had wiped down the tiles with bleach and scraped the disgusting remains of dead ghouls from the walls, she wasn’t sure if she could even smell anymore. They decided to leave all the bullet holes for Will and Danny to deal with later, since the two men were responsible for most of them in the first place.

They hadn’t decided what to do with the bones yet. Burying them was one option. The other was to throw them into the lake. Lara preferred the second option. An ocean of bones sounded better than bones buried in their backyard. Bones in the lake might drift away eventually, whereas burying them would always mean living right next to a graveyard. The human bone, depending on the condition, could last for thousands of years in the ground before it dissolved completely. She wasn’t prepared to live with that kind of timetable.

“Eight guys?” Carly said, as Lara climbed up the front steps of the patio.

Carly handed her a bottle of cold water. Lara took it gratefully and drained it. She hadn’t realized how much she missed something as simple as a cold bottle of water until she finally tasted it again yesterday.

“Eight guys, give or take,” Lara said.

“Are we sure they weren’t just survivors responding to the message? Like us?”

“They didn’t look very friendly.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. How many did Danny kill?”

“He wounded two.”

“Lucky them. He’s a pretty good shot.”

Lara sniffed the air. The smell of fried fish was strong, and thankfully horned in on the still-lingering acidic aroma of evaporated dead ghouls still clinging to parts of the island. “Are you frying fish?”

“I’m trying to overwhelm this morning’s disgusting smell in fish, yeah. Al left plenty in the freezer.”

“No wonder I smell something burning.”

Carly made a face. “It’s all part of my master plan to convince Sarah to take over the kitchen.”

“Are you two getting along now?”

“I guess,” Carly said, and shrugged. “I should probably apologize for trying to devour her soul last night.”

“I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still working up the courage to actually do it.”

Lara looked around. “Have you seen Sienna?”

“No. Why?”

“I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

Sienna had helped with the bones that morning. She had worked quietly, almost robotically, and the half-dozen times Lara had stopped to check on her, the other woman had simply smiled back mutely. Once, she had nodded, but that was it.

“She’ll come around,” Carly said. “We all have to adapt. What’s that saying you and Will came up with? Adapt or perish?”

“Yeah.”

“That should be our motto from now on. We should make a big banner and hang it right there—” she made an imaginary banner with her hands “—in big bold letters: ‘Adapt Or Perish.’”

“Capital letters?”

“Of course. Gotta be capital letters. Maybe different colors, too.”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

Carly laughed. “We could get the girls to help.”

They headed back into the hotel lobby. The AC was turned off, and it was hot again, even with the windows and doors open all night and this morning to help cleanse the place of the smell of dead ghouls.

Sarah told them the AC was never something Karen and the others kept on at all times. All the luxuries they were shown yesterday were to impress them. Them, and everyone who had come before them, whose clothes, weapons, and other personal belongings were buried in the unfinished sections of the hotel and in the Tower’s basement. Even Kyle’s games weren’t something he was normally allowed.

No wonder the kid could barely pull himself away from them. He only got to play them when one of us showed up.

“God, I miss air conditioning,” Carly sighed. “When did Will say we can turn it back on?”

“When he’s sure there’s enough juice in the generators to power the island.”

“That doesn’t sound very hopeful.”

“It’s not.”

“Ugh.”

They were halfway across the lobby when Lara’s radio squawked and Will’s voice came through: “Heads up. I just made contact with Blaine.”

“He’s still alive?” Danny asked through the radio. “Talk about beating the odds. That guy just refuses to die.”


Lara keyed her radio. “Will, what about Sandra?”

“That’s a negative on Sandra,” Will said. “They made it into Beaumont while we were there yesterday morning, but they got into trouble with some collaborators. Probably the same ones Gaby shot. Sandra died while they were trying to escape.”

“Tell him I’m sorry,” Lara said.

She had never met the woman, but she had been looking forward to it ever since meeting Blaine. She remembered when they had found him, lying half-dead on the road with three bullets in him. He was still alive because of Sandra. Any woman special enough to make a man give death the middle finger had to be pretty special.

Now she would never know, and a part of her felt sad at the missed opportunity.

“I will,” Will said.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Danny said. “Are we making silver bullets tonight or what?”

“We’ll be heading back as soon as we can,” Will answered. “If all goes well, we’ll be back within the hour.”

“See you then,” Lara said into the radio.

“Later, alligator,” Danny added.

*

IT WAS 2:12 P.M. and the sun had settled into the sky when Lara went back to the Tower, where Danny and Sarah were putting up a new door to replace the one the ghouls had obliterated the night before. It was essentially two doors from two unused rooms in the hotel, nailed together into one big slab of thick, dull wood. It was overly heavy (which was the point) and took a lot of grunting and grimacing to carry over from the hotel where Danny had put it together.

Lara helped them raise the door into position, then held it in place with Sarah while Danny grabbed an electric drill and fired large screws through makeshift hinges into the concrete wall one by one. By the time he was done, they were out of breath and their clothes were drenched in sweat—again.

The door didn’t look like much. In fact, it was ugly, but it could open and close and was locked in place with an iron bar that fell into a latch drilled into the side. More importantly, it would not fall as easily as the last door. They had gotten by last night thanks to the Tower’s rather oddball design, but Will and Danny wanted to make sure the ghouls never made it inside next time.

When they were done, Lara said, “Anyone seen Sienna?”

“She was in the hotel the last time I saw her,” Sarah said. “About thirty minutes ago.”

“What was she doing?”

“I don’t know. She was in her room.”

“She’ll come around,” Danny said.

Lara left the two of them to finish up. She headed up to the second floor, where they kept a couple of crates with emergency supplies, including one with clothes. She grabbed a new undershirt and pulled it on, tossing her drenched one into a waste basket. Laundry had become unnecessary with clothes lying around everywhere, though she thought they might have to revisit that now that they were going to be staying on the island.

The idea made her smile. The island could become a home, something they hadn’t had since Harold Campbell’s facility. This was what she had wanted when they had set off in search of Song Island months ago. Even after the horrors of last night, the very real possibility of having a place to call home made her almost giddy.

She traveled up to the third floor, where Gaby stood watch along the windows. The teenager was moving from window to window, peering through binoculars for about thirty seconds at each spot. She looked the part of a sentry, and Lara understood why Will was so high on her.

“Anything?” Lara asked.

“Nothing,” Gaby said.

“Can you see Will and Josh?”

“If by ‘see’ you mean noticed two tiny specks in the distance that could very well be Will and Josh—or bird poop—then yes.”

Lara walked to the south window, picked up another pair of binoculars hanging from a hook, and looked through them. She could see the shoreline in the distance, along with the house and marina. The gazebo, the tallest structure in the marina, blinked under the glare of sunlight. She made out the garage, with its aluminum rooftop, and the black asphalt parking lot with the dozen or so vehicles inside, including the Ridgeline and Frontier they had parked there yesterday.

“They went into the garage about ten minutes ago,” Gaby said. “I haven’t seen them come out yet.”

“Is Blaine with them?”

“I can’t be sure, but I saw five dots moving around out there at one point.”

“Anything from the house?”

“I saw a couple of them walking around the front yard. Do we know who they are yet?”

“Not yet.”

Lara turned the binoculars back to the house, picking up a lone figure moving around the yard. Or at least, it looked like a figure. It could have been a balloon blowing in the breeze for all she knew.

“They finished with the door down there?” Gaby asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Heavy?”

“Like a stone.”

“I guess that’s good. Hard to break down stone.”

“That’s the idea.” Lara looked back at the marina and focused on the garage, but she couldn’t see anything inside, outside, or around the building. “They’re taking their time,” she said softly.

“Maybe you can contact Will on the radio.”

Lara unclipped the radio from her hip and pressed the transmit lever. “Will, can you hear me?”

She didn’t get a response right away.

Five seconds went by, then ten.

She was about to press the transmit lever again when the radio squawked and she heard Will’s voice, whispering, “Yes.”

Why is he whispering?

“Is everything all right over there?” she asked.

“Everything’s fine,” he said, still whispering. “We’re about to head back now.”

“Be careful.”

“Will do.”

Gaby glanced over. “I guess he’s okay.”

“I guess so.”

She fought the urge to call him back.

No. He said he was fine. Why would he lie?

But why was he whispering?

*

SHE WAS HALFWAY back to the hotel when she heard the gunshot. It came from the hotel lobby, and she knew instantly it was a handgun.

Glock. That’s a Glock.

Lara dashed across the grounds, aiming for the side door. She had become more acquainted with the hotel’s layout since this morning, while coming and going with arms full of ghoul bones.

As she ran, Lara unsnapped the radio from her hip and shouted into it: “Danny!”

“I heard,” Danny said calmly.

“Hurry!”

She was halfway to the side door when she heard another shot.

Lara threw open the door and darted inside. Her sneakers slipped on the freshly bleached tiles, but she regained her footing and raced through the short hallway until she reached Hallway A that led into the lobby.

As she made the turn, she heard two more gunshots, very close together.

“Danny!” she shouted into the radio again.

“I’m coming,” Danny said calmly.

She heard voices as soon as she neared the lobby. Female voices, almost conversational, which seemed impossible. She saw a pair of bullet casings scattered on the floor in front of her and almost slipped on one as she burst into the large sun-drenched room, drawing her sidearm at the same time.

The smell of frying fish from the kitchen overwhelmed her senses, but they were quickly overcome by the sight in front of her.

Lara was prepared for the worst, but she was still shocked to see Carly sitting on the floor with her back against one of the lobby walls, bleeding badly from the left side of her neck. Blood trickled out between the fingers of Carly’s left hand, which she had pressed over the wound to stem the flow. There was a Glock on the floor nearby, just out of Carly’s reach, and her eyes were focused on the woman standing in front of her, about five feet away.


Sienna.

She was holding a Glock aimed at Carly’s head and her back was to Lara, but as soon as she heard Lara’s footsteps, Sienna looked over her shoulder. Lara didn’t recognize the young woman from last night. The same one who had screamed when Jake was swallowed up by the flood of ghouls in the hallway, who had cried into her shoulder all night as they sat on the third floor of the Tower and waited out the horror.

This woman looked different. She looked angry, and Lara heard all that fury come out in a scream that paralyzed her: “Stay back!”

Lara slid to a stop ten yards away and her gun snapped up and she took aim at Sienna’s head, and in a split-second she wondered if she could do it, if she could pull the trigger.

Jack Sunday. That man in the church. I’ve killed before. I can do it again.

Please, please, let me be able to do it again, for Carly’s sake…

But maybe she didn’t have to. Maybe she could talk her way out of this. Maybe…

“Sienna, what are you doing?”

Lara’s eyes moved briefly back to Carly. She looked awful, all the color drained from her face. There was a thin trail of blood stretching from the kitchen to the wall where Carly sat. Carly looked back at her, and her friend blinked, as if she didn’t quite have the strength to keep her eyes open, and was fighting, fighting just to do that much.

She’s losing too much blood…

“This is the natural order of things,” Sienna was saying. She sounded rational, calm again. “Jake’s dead. Everyone’s dead.”

“Not everyone,” Lara said.

“Everyone that matters to me!” Sienna shouted.

“Don’t, please…”

She wasn’t sure if she was actually pleading. Maybe she was. All she could focus on was Carly, bleeding on the floor, and how heavy the Glock felt in her hands, how strong the trigger was against her forefinger, and the smell of fish, not just frying, but burning now…

“You can’t stop me,” Sienna said, smiling. “I—”

She never finished. There was a loud gunshot from across the lobby and Sienna’s forehead exploded and blood (brain) splattered the floor. Sienna’s body crumpled like used skin and bones, the Glock that was gripped so tightly, so insistently in her hand mere seconds ago fell and clattered against the floor even before what was left of Sienna’s head did.

Lara looked over at Danny, entering the hotel lobby through the front doors, holstering his Glock. He ran the rest of the way, reaching Carly about the same time Lara did.

“Dammit, babe, I told you not to get shot,” he said, crouching next to her.

Carly looked at him and somehow managed to smile. “My hero,” she said, her voice soft, barely a whisper.

“What happened?” Lara asked. “Why did she shoot you?”

“I don’t know.” Carly shook her head. She looked even paler up close. How was that possible? “I was in the kitchen, doing woman’s work—”

Danny grinned.

“—and I saw her come in. She looked at me and then shot me without saying anything. God, she shot me. I’ve never been shot before. It hurts.”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been shot,” Danny said.

“I hate you,” Carly said, then closed her eyes.

Danny glanced at Lara and she saw all the boyish charm disappear, replaced by worry and love and, for the very first time, very real fear.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but it’s not a fatal wound,” Lara said. “She’ll be fine.”

Please let me be right. Just this one time, God, let me be right. You owe me that much, don’t you?

“Help me get her to the table,” Lara said. “And keep her upright.”

Danny lifted Carly in his arms as if she weighed nothing, with her head resting against his chest instead of dangling off his arms, and carried her to a big table in the middle of the lobby. Lara walked alongside him, her hand pressed against Carly’s neck, the blood squirting through her fingers. She pressed harder and Carly moaned but didn’t open her eyes. They had to step over Sienna’s still body, twisted awkwardly on the floor.

“She’s really bleeding,” Danny said.

“She’ll be fine…”

Sarah arrived in the lobby when they were halfway to the table. She saw Sienna, then Carly, and ran over. “My God, what happened?”

“Sienna shot Carly, then I shot Sienna,” Danny said, like he was discussing the weather.

“Oh my God…” Sarah said, putting one hand over her mouth.

“Where are the girls?” Lara asked Sarah.

She didn’t want Vera to see this. Didn’t want Elise or Sarah’s daughter, Jenny, to see it, either. But especially not Vera. The girl had already been through too much; Lara didn’t think she could—or should—see this, too.

“They’re at the Tower,” Sarah said. “I sent them to stay with Gaby when I heard the gunshots.”

“Good, good,” Lara said, grateful for that, at least. “Clear the table, Sarah.”

Sarah ran over to the table ahead of them and with two hands brushed the surface clean except for the linen sheet on top. Danny sat Carly down gently, with all the care and love in the world, but kept her head leaning against his chest, upright.

“Sarah, I need your hand,” Lara said. Sarah rushed over to her side and Lara showed her where to put her hand against Carly’s neck. “Here. Push hard. Don’t worry, you’re not going to hurt her. Whatever you do, don’t let her lay her head down on the table.”

Sarah gave her a reluctant look but pushed on the wound the way Lara showed her. Lara stepped back. She looked down at her hands, covered in blood up to the wrists.

She’s lost so much blood…

She looked back at Sarah. “Keep it pressed as hard as you can, understand?”

Sarah nodded, but she looked queasy, especially every time blood squirted through her fingers and peppered the thick tabletop.

“I’ll be back,” Lara said, and jogged off quickly.

She ran back to her room, trying to wipe the blood off on her pant legs, but only succeeded in bloodying them up, too.

The black bag was in the corner of her room, on the armchair where she had put it this morning. She snatched it up and hurried back out, rushing down the hallway. For some reason, it seemed to take her much longer to get back to the lobby.

Somewhere between her room and the lobby, she heard the soft, echoing reports of gunfire.

For an instant, her mind conjured up images of Sienna, risen from the dead, engaging in a gun battle with Danny. But no, the gunfire wasn’t from the lobby. It was distant, reaching them from across the lake.

She hurried into the lobby, where Sarah and Danny were still standing over Carly. Lara was afraid Carly wasn’t breathing, but as she drew near, she saw Carly’s chest rising and falling slightly, if labored.

“Will,” Lara said, catching Danny’s eyes.

“He can take care of himself,” Danny said. “I need you to focus on Carly right now, okay?”

She nodded, and willed herself to ignore the soft, echoing pop-pop-pop of assault rifles firing in the background.

Instead, she pried back Sarah’s hand to reveal the bullet wound in Carly’s neck.

The bullet had gone clean through, taking a big chunk of muscle with it. It was an ugly sight, made impossibly uglier by the sheer amount of blood loss. But it wasn’t fatal, and the carotid artery was intact. All she had to do was stop the bleeding, and Carly would live.


Let me be right. Please, let me be right.

She became aware of Danny’s voice, as if from a distance: “Lara? How is it? How does it look? Tell me she’s going to live. Please, tell me she’s going to live.”

“She’s going to live,” Lara said.

Please, God, I beg you, don’t make a liar out of me.

In the background, far away, the pop-pop-pop of assault rifles continued unabated…