The Isles of Elysium

CHAPTER 18

The rope was a double braid nylon, the kind used to tie up boats, and it must have bit into her wrists as they kept her suspended in the air half a foot off the ground. Thick rivulets of blood dripped down the sides of her face and onto the concrete floor, where they were quickly absorbed by the larger pools already gathering under her dangling boots.

Keo willed himself to take slow and steady breaths, pushed aside his accelerated heart rate, and took stock of his situation.

Steve, behind him, was armed, and so was Jack in front of him. The two soldiers at the doors would also be a big problem. He would have to kill Steve first, because he was closest. He could do that by taking the knife and jamming it into his throat, or go for the revolver in his hip holster. There were six bullets in the gun. One to Steve’s head-at this range, Keo couldn’t have missed if he had blindfolds on-then the second shot would take out Jack.

The two at the doors? Depending on how alert they were, he could probably take both out before they could return fire.

Probably.

He was being overly generous of his own skills, of course. But even if Steve or Jack put up a fight that lasted longer than a few seconds, he believed enough in his abilities that he could, reasonably, kill both soldiers with minimal danger to himself and Jordan, who would be hanging helplessly from the rafters throughout all of this.

And then what?

Assuming he could kill everyone in the warehouse who needed killing, that still left…all the soldiers outside. The two on the docks, the four at the front gate, and the ones still making their way out of the marina. They would converge on the warehouse as soon as the first shots rang out. Worse, they would have him cornered inside.

Not good.

No, shooting his way out of here, while dragging a half-conscious Jordan with him, was not going to work. It wouldn’t serve Jordan in any way, except possibly to get her killed minutes after rescuing her.

There had to be another way.

How?

Wait. What was that Steve had said to him when he first arrived? About how he viewed Tobias’s people and those he called stragglers?

“You see, I put people who haven’t gotten with the reality of our situation into two categories: The ones that don’t know any better, and the ones that are determined to make things miserable for everyone else. You belong in the former category.”

There it was. He didn’t have to convince Steve of a lie, he only had to convince the man of something he already believed.

“…the ones that don’t know any better…”

“Found her about a mile from here,” Steve was saying. “She had a nice hiding spot, too, but I figured she had to be nearby after what happened with Eric in the woods.”

Eric was the teenager from earlier, the one Keo had spared in order to give his message to Steve. He should have known the little bastard would mention that Keo wasn’t alone, that Jordan was with him. It had never occurred to him that Steve would have someone out there looking for her after he left the bridge. Steve hadn’t said a word about her, and Keo had assumed…

You ass.

“She wouldn’t tell me her name,” Steve said. He gestured with the knife, flicking (Jordan’s) blood back and forth across the floor. “Wouldn’t say much, really. But who else would be running around out there except your friend?”

“She’s not my friend,” Keo said.

Jordan blinked her one good eye, looking past Steve and at him. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw disappointment on her bloodied face.

“No?” Steve said. “She was with you earlier.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s my friend.”

“Then who is she?”

“Just someone who decided to come along to T18. She’s tired of living hand to mouth out there with Tobias. After I killed him, she asked to come back, too, wanted to rejoin the town.”

“Is that right?” Steve looked back at Jordan. “So why didn’t she come in from the cold the same time as you?”

“I promised her I’d talk to you about it first. Make sure you didn’t hold a grudge against any of Tobias’s people. She’s not the only one, you know. There are others.”

“How many more?”

“A handful.”

Steve smirked. “Can’t say I’m surprised.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Keo. “Not that I believe what you’re saying.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know. Why would you agree to kill a man you barely know? Why would you come back here after I used you as bait? I don’t know why you do most of the things you do, Keo.”

“There you go overthinking it again,” Keo said, injecting just enough amusement into his voice to make it convincing. “I already told you, I’m not that complicated.”

He looked past Steve and at Jordan. Her good eye was closed, and she was bleeding and hurt (badly, badly hurt), but he hoped there was nothing wrong with her hearing. If she had been listening, maybe she would understand what he was doing. Or trying to do, anyway.

“He’s not wrong,” Jack was saying. “You saw that girl he was doing all of this for. Preggers or not, I’d probably kill a few guys just to get some of that.”

Steve grinned. “She’s not bad.”

“She was hotter before,” Keo sighed. “But she’s not going to be pregnant forever. Know what I mean?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said. “My girls are glowing.”

“It’s probably because of all the potatoes you’re feeding them,” Steve said.

Jack shrugged. “Maybe.”

Steve nodded at Keo, as if to say, “Okay, maybe I believe you,” before turning back to Jordan. He cupped her bloodied chin and lifted her head until she could look him in the eyes.

“Look at me,” Steve said. “Hey.”

She opened her eye slowly.

“Is he right?” Steve asked her. “You were waiting for a signal to come in?”

Jordan didn’t react.

Come on, Jordan, play along…

Finally, her head moved. It was nodding, or trying to.

“Why didn’t you say that when they caught you?” Steve asked.

She struggled to answer, small incomprehensible sounds escaping her bloodied lips.

“I can’t hear you,” Steve said. “Louder.”

“No…chance…” she managed to say.

Steve let go of her chin, then pulled a small rag out from his back pocket and cleaned his hands. He did the same to the knife before sliding it back into its sheath.

“The boys did that to her face,” Steve said to Keo. “I guess they got a little carried away. Tobias’s people may have suffered heavy losses yesterday, but they’ve been hounding us for months. I’ve lost more than my share, too.”

“What about the knife?” Keo asked.

“That was me,” Steve said with a dismissive shrug. “She wasn’t being very cooperative.” Then, “Where are the others? The rest of Tobias’s people?”

“Somewhere out there. You found where they were last night? The YMCA near the highway?”

“Scouts did,” Jack said.

“They were there when I left. I guess your guys must have spooked them. I was supposed to tell her-” he nodded at Jordan “-that everything was arranged, then she would relay the message back to the others and they’d all come in at the same time.”

“The lambs are coming home,” Jack smiled. “I told you they’d come running back when we finally got rid of Tobias.”

“Easier said than done,” Steve said. “Until today, anyway.” He nodded at Jack. “Get her to Bannerman. Make sure no one sees her like this.”

“I hate going there. Bannerman gives me the creeps.”

“Suck it up,” Steve said. Then to Keo, “Come on,” before starting off.

Keo looked back at Jordan and caught her staring at him with her good eye. He gave her a barely visible nod and she blinked back once.

He turned around as Jack ordered the soldiers to bring Jordan down, and he heard her grunting with relief as she was lowered to the hard concrete floor.

Outside, the clouds above T18 had grown in size and gotten much grayer. Though they had over an hour before sundown, it was already dark enough that the LED floodlights had begun switching on along the docks.

“What’s going to happen to her?” Keo asked.

“Bannerman will take care of her,” Steve said. “She should be fine in a couple of days.”

“Those knife cuts won’t be fine in a couple of days.”

“Everything heals eventually, Keo. She’s lucky I believed you, otherwise I would have really gone to work.”

“You mean you weren’t ‘really’ working back there?”

“That was a warm-up. You don’t wanna see me really working.” He stared at Keo when he added, “Trust me on that.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, Steve.”

“Good.” He climbed into the golf cart. “The first step to a healthy partnership is to recognize your position in the hierarchy. In T18, what I say goes. Got it?”

“Gotten.”

“That’s a good soldier.” He grinned. “Now, let’s go have dinner. I’m famished.”

*

Steve lived in T18A3, two subdivisions over from the one where Gillian (and Fuck-You-Jay) lived. The housing areas were separated by the same six-foot wooden fencing he had seen in the back of Gillian’s house. Nothing that would keep anyone out, but just enough to separate the different areas into their own little corners.

With the gathering clouds growing darker above him, it felt as if they were driving through nightfall. Keo had to temper his growing anxiety about still being outside, especially without his guns.

“Relax,” Steve said behind the steering wheel. “They don’t come into town. There’s an invisible line that they don’t cross. When I decide I can fully trust you, I might tell you how it all works. Until then, you’ll just have to be satisfied with Rule #1.”

“Which is?”

“Everything within the town is safe. Everything beyond it? Go at your own risk.”

“Good to know…”

Lights hanging from repurposed power poles along the road had begun slowly turning on as they traveled from the marina back to the subdivisions. The lights had come on by themselves, and he guessed they were similar to the solar-powered lamps he’d seen on Song Island, only smaller and less efficient. They weren’t quite bright enough to push back the darkness completely, but there were enough of them to navigate by.

“Where’d you find the lights?” Keo asked.

“Archers,” Steve said. “From Home Depot and Lowe’s, too. You name it, we’ve raided them. That’s why there isn’t very much left out there. Before he went rogue, Tobias and I knew we’d be able to use all the renewable resources from the old world, so we began stockpiling them pretty early on. No one had bothered looting them, so we had our pick. The guys in charge of the other towns did the same thing.”

“You talk to them?”

“Oh, sure, I call them on the phone every other day.”

“Hunh.”

Steve smiled, amused with himself.

They drove past the gate into Gillian’s T18A1, then T18A2, before slowing down and turning into T18A3. Armed soldiers came out of another booth to push the gate open, and one of them actually (and awkwardly) saluted Steve.

They went up a street flanked by lights that were slowly coming on by themselves. Most of the lamps were hanging from power poles that no longer had any uses, with smaller versions jutting out of front lawns. There were very few lights coming from inside the homes, but he did spot a couple of soldiers walking along the sidewalks carrying flashlights.

“Where is everyone?” Keo asked.

“Settling down for dinner at the cafeterias after a hard day’s work,” Steve said. “All the food is kept at a central location and well-guarded, so no one will be tempted to help themselves beyond scheduled meals. Gotta keep everyone well-fed and healthy, otherwise this place shuts down.”

“And keep them healthy enough to keep giving blood, of course.”

“That goes without saying.”

“How often do they donate?”

“Once a day, every day. We don’t take enough to make them so tired they can’t work. You’ll discover that we do everything in moderation. We have to, or the supplies won’t last. But everyone has to do and give their fair share.”

“Well, not everyone.”

“Now you’re getting it. Privileges, Keo. Humans may have been relegated to second-class citizens in this brave new world, but there are still classes within classes. You’re one of us now. Enjoy it.”

Until I put a bullet in your head, Keo thought, thinking about Jordan hanging from the rafters in the warehouse back in the marina.

“So where are we going?” he asked instead. “To the cafeteria for dinner?”

Steve chuckled. “Does the President of the United States eat at Luby’s?”

*

Steve lived in a two-story house that was almost exactly in the middle of T18A3. Keo had expected something bigger and more grand as befitting the “president” of T18, but it looked like all the others-half brick up front and mostly wood paneling along the sides and in the back.

Solar-powered LED lights in the ground lit their way up the driveway and to the front door. Each light no doubt had a very sharp point on the other end, and Keo fantasized about pulling one of the stakes up and shoving it into the back of Steve’s head as he followed the man up the walkway.

Steve didn’t knock or need a key to open the door. He just opened it, and the aroma of fried chicken hit Keo as soon as he stepped inside.

“Yum yum yum,” Steve said, smacking his lips. “Now that smells good!”

“Be ready in a few minutes!” a woman called over to them.

“That’s my lady,” Steve said. “She’s a great cook.”

“Fried chicken?” Keo said. “You have chicken?”

“We have a farm behind one of the fields. Chickens, ducks, cows… Where do you think the horses come from? A man can’t live on MREs and vegetables his entire life, Keo.”

“Does everyone get fried chicken?”

“Sure, once a week. Maybe once every two weeks. Portions, anyway.”

Classes within classes. Right.

The woman in the kitchen was picking up pieces of drumsticks frying in a pan and putting them onto plates. She glanced over at Keo and smiled. Mid-twenties, blonde, and much prettier than someone like Steve deserved. She was wearing a flower-printed dress and an apron, and her hair was done in an old-fashioned style that made Keo wonder if he had stepped into a real-life Leave It To Beaver episode.

“Keo, this is Lois, my better half,” Steve said. “Darling, this is Keo.”

“Is that Japanese?” Lois asked.

“Korean,” Keo said.

“Oh, cool.”

“Keo’s a half-breed, right?” Steve said.

“Honey, that’s not nice!” Lois said.

“He doesn’t mind. Right, Keo?”

“Right,” Keo nodded, just barely suppressing a grimace.

“See?” Steve said. He went into the kitchen, slipped his arms around Lois’s waist, and nuzzled her neck. “Smells good. And the food, too.”

“Steve,” Lois said.

They were doing that pretend-annoyed thing that husbands and wives did in front of company. Keo wanted to throw up.

“Show Keo where to clean up,” Lois said. “I’ll have everything ready by the time you guys are done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve kissed her neck and grabbed her ass with both hands.

She yelped. “Steve!”

Steve laughed, and Keo couldn’t decide if all of this was some theater for his benefit, or if they really were this sickeningly satisfied with their lives inside the safe zone of T18.

“Come on, you look and smell like shit,” Steve said to him. “I was going to send a uniform over to Gillian’s house, but I guess that can wait.”

“A uniform?” Keo said.

“You might as well look the part if you’re going to stay. You are going to stay, aren’t you?”

Keo shrugged. He didn’t want to come across as too anxious. “Maybe. There’s not much out there.”

“Not unless you believe the radio.”

“Radio?”

“Want a laugh? Come take a listen.”

Steve led him into a study that was partially lit by a pair of LED lights clamped to the windowsills. Keo saw a soldier outside across the street, smoking a cigarette, the outline of his M4 rifle jutting out from behind his back. Keo thought about all the things he could do with that weapon.

Steve walked to a dresser and turned on a battery-powered radio and fidgeted with the knobs. Keo only heard static, but Steve seemed certain there was something there and kept hunting around the dials.

“They had another message they were broadcasting before this one,” Steve was saying. “It went kaput about a month ago. I assumed my compatriots did that. Anyway, one of my guys picked up this new one yesterday. It’s definitely the same people.” He found what he was looking for and stopped, then turned up the volume. “Here it is. Same woman, different message.”

Keo already knew what he was going to hear before he heard it, because he had been there in person when they recorded the message on the bridge of the Trident.

“…silver. Bodies of water. And sunlight,” a female voice said through the radio. “These are three things that we know for certain that can, and will, kill the creatures, these things in the darkness we call ghouls.”

He almost smiled at the sound of Lara’s voice but managed to stop himself at the very last second because Steve was watching him, maybe trying to gauge his reaction across the semidarkness of the room.

“For their human collaborators, the traitors in uniforms that scour the countryside in the daylight for survivors,” Lara continued, “any bullet will do. If you’re able, get to a place that is surrounded by bodies of water. Stock up on silver; if you know how, make silver bullets, or any silver-bladed weapons. The daylight is no longer your friend, but don’t be discouraged. As long as you’re breathing, as long as you are free, there is hope. We will adapt and keep going, because that’s what we do. This is Lara, and I’m still fighting alongside you.”

The message paused for about five seconds before it repeated itself:

“This is Lara, broadcasting to you from safe harbor. If you’re hearing this, that means you’re still out there, too. Remember: Silver. Bodies of water. And sunlight. These are three things that we know for certain that can, and will, kill the creatures, these things in the darkness we call ghouls…”

Steve turned down the volume until Keo could barely hear Lara’s voice. “She believes it, too. Just like Tobias. She thinks you can keep fighting them. The sad part is, we’ve caught a couple of people listening to this propaganda bullshit. Luckily, we’ve managed to nip those in the bud before they got out of control. This type of thing is like a virus; if you don’t stamp it out immediately, it spreads. We can’t have that.”

“How are you going to stop it?” Keo asked.

“Easy. I outlawed radios.” Then he smiled. “Anyway, let’s go wash up. The chicken smells ready.”

On cue, Lois called from outside in that much-too-June-Cleaver voice, “Come and get ’em, boys!”

*

Lois was pretty and lively, and while she was bringing the plates of fried chicken, beans, and corncobs over, Steve leaned over to Keo and whispered, “She wants to get pregnant-you know, do her part for the town-but I won’t let her. I don’t know about you, but I prefer them slim and hot.”

Keo smiled and nodded, but all he could think about was Gillian. She was pregnant right now with another man’s baby. Four months pregnant. What was he doing four months ago? He couldn’t even remember. Somewhere in the Louisiana woods, trying to survive Pollard’s small army of paramilitary assholes, probably.

Steve had grabbed the biggest piece of chicken thigh on the plate and was about to wrap his mouth around it when his radio squawked, and a male voice said, “Sir? It’s Grant. Come in.”

Lois sighed. “Honey, why do you still have that thing turned on? It’s dinnertime.”

Steve ignored her, put down the chicken, and unclipped the radio from his belt. He keyed it, said, “What is it?”

“Uh, sorry to disturb you, sir, but I have some bad news,” Grant said.

“Steve,” Lois started to say, but she froze when Steve shot her a hard glance. She looked down at her plate of beans instead.

“Go on,” Steve said into the radio.

“It’s, uh, your brother, sir,” Grant said. He sounded nervous.

“What about Jack?”

“He’s dead, sir.”

“What the fuck do you mean he’s dead?”

Steve shot up from the table, nearly knocking it over. Lois gasped and grabbed onto a corncob as it rolled off a plate.

“The woman,” Grant said, and Keo thought his voice was trembling slightly. “She’s gone. Someone busted in on Doctor Bannerman’s place and took her. They, uh, shot Jack while they were escaping.”

Keo thought he was ready for it, but even he was surprised when Steve punched the table so hard that everything-the dishes, the chicken, and the corncobs-flew everywhere. Lois screamed and stumbled to her feet while Keo managed to grab onto a chicken leg as it bounced into the air.

“Fuck!” Steve screamed.

Keo didn’t say anything. He took a bite out of the chicken leg. It tasted good, but then he hadn’t had fried chicken in years, so Lois could have actually been an awful cook and he might not have noticed.

Besides, he needed something for his mouth to do, otherwise he might have burst out laughing uncontrollably at the sight of Steve raging in front of him.