The next two hours ticked by in silence, inside and outside the farmhouse. The lack of noise — or any sounds at all — was nerve-wracking.
Blue-eyed ghouls.
She could have lived the rest of her life without seeing them in person.
Not just one, but four.
Four!
She shivered again in the semidarkness and looked quickly to see if Lance had noticed. She shouldn’t have bothered. Lance had dozed off, the AR-15 positioned awkwardly across his lap. She thought about taking the rifle away from him. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up suddenly and start shooting. And the barrel was pointed right at her, too…
The neon hand of her watch ticked to 10:16 p.m.
Not even close to sunrise. When did the sun come out last time? Around seven?
All we have to do is survive nine more hours.
Oh, that’s it?
The clicking noise in her right ear made her jump slightly. “What’s the word, daddy bird?” Danny said through the comm.
“Jack shit,” Will said.
“How long does it take to eat Harrison? The guy was kind of thick around the ankles. An hour? Two?”
“Oh, nice.”
“What? Too soon?”
“Way too soon.”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t like we really knew the guy. You know what they say about gingers.”
Tap.
Gaby’s eyes darted up to the ceiling.
Tap tap.
She reached down and squeezed the Push-to-Talk switch connected to her radio. “I hear something.”
“Sorry, kid, I tried to hold it in,” Danny said.
“No, above us.”
“What was it?” Will asked.
“Footsteps. I think.”
She looked across the hallway and saw Danny, still stationed at the window, craning his head upward toward the ceiling.
Tap tap.
“I hear it,” Danny said.
“Ignore it,” Will said. “They’re just probing the roof, looking for a weak spot.”
“What if they find it?” she asked.
“Then we’re shit out of luck with a fist full of ham sandwiches,” Danny said.
Gaby listened intently to the noise above her when it suddenly stopped.
She breathed a little easier.
They’re probing. That’s all. They’re just probing for weaknesses.
“Gaby,” Will said in her ear.
“Yes…”
“Stay where you are. You’re in the perfect spot right now. And wake Lance up.”
She smiled. “How’d you know?”
“He’s not one of us.”
Gaby felt a flush of pride. “One of us.” Her, Danny, and Will. The three of them. In this post-Purge world, it meant the world for him to include her.
She turned to Lance and put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight nudge.
He opened his eyes and snapped awake, looking around before locating her through his groggy haze. “What’s happening?”
“You were asleep.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his eyes, then wrapped his hands back around his rifle as if it were his lifeline. The barrel was still pointed at her…
Gaby turned back to the stairs. Or the pitch blackness at the other end. She could really see only the first half dozen or so steps, with the rest hidden in the shadows.
“Heads up,” Danny said in her ear.
“I see it,” Will said.
Gaby glanced to her left, past Lance and into the open bedroom door at Danny. He had taken a step away from the window and had lifted his M4A1 slightly.
“Danny,” Gaby said out loud. “What’s happening?”
“They’re back,” he said through her earbud.
“The blue-eyed ones?”
“Ol’ blue eyes. Maybe they want to serenade us. Sing us to death.” Then he added, his voice rising noticeably, “Shit.”
“What is it?” Will said through the comm.
“I only see two of them.”
“Find the other two—”
Something that sounded like an explosion rang out, drowning out Will’s voice. Gaby moved on instinct, diving further up the hallway, away from the stairs, just as the first pieces of rubble came tumbling down from above her.
The roof. It was caving in on them.
“Lance!” she shouted.
He was struggling to his feet, legs wobbly from sitting too long, and hadn’t straightened all the way up before the roof crashed down on top of him. He let out something that sounded like a scream (A squeal?) before he was pummeled by falling slate tiles. One of them broke over Lance’s head and he stumbled, somehow managing to brace himself against the wall, as more roofing material flooded down on top of him one by one by one.
Then it came down.
It.
One of the creatures. It fell down from the sky like some archangel, minus the wings and halo and good intentions, landing in a crouch next to Lance. It straightened up, its body impossibly long, spindly arms and legs extending in what little light was available in the second-floor hallway.
Glowing blue eyes searched her out, and finding her, zeroed in.
It was gripping something long and shiny in one of its hands. Moonlight glinted off the smooth surface of a sledgehammer.
“Gaby!” Will shouted in her ear.
She was too busy scrambling back up to her feet to respond. She didn’t think and didn’t waste a second. She simply reacted, lifting the M4 and pulling the trigger. The carbine bucked in her hands and the sound of the three-round burst in the close confines of the hallway was like three powerful thunder strikes, one after another.
Her aim was true, and she hit it with all three rounds in the chest.
But it didn’t go down.
It didn’t go down.
Instead, it looked back at her and grinned before tossing the sledgehammer away. Then it took a step forward. Pow! A bullet hit the creature from behind. That same bullet punched through flesh and zipped past her head before disappearing into the wall behind her. Slurping noises as thick, coagulated black blood burst out of the fresh hole in the thing’s neck and splashed with a sickening plop against the floor.
“Gaby, get down!” Danny shouted from the other side of the hallway.
Her mind was reeling, the sight of the creature still standing after she had put three silver bullets into its chest making it hard for her to think straight.
“Remember: shoot them in the head,” Will had said.
Shoot them in the head!
The creature wasn’t looking at her anymore. It was already turning and bounding up the hallway toward Danny, who was firing, having switched to full-auto. Bullets pierced the creature’s body and embedded into walls as Danny tried to track its constantly moving and shifting form. It was dodging his gunfire. How was that even possible? Were they really that fast?
Stupid question, because she could see it with her own eyes.
Danny’s silver rounds that did land were penetrating the creature’s body and continued on, zip-zipping up the narrow space like flies buzzing, slamming into the wall around her. She had to duck to keep from being hit by a stray bullet, and suddenly the prospect of dying by friendly fire was very real.
In a crouch, Gaby lifted her rifle and tried to get a bead on the creature as it fled away from her (“Shoot them in the head!”). Before she could fire, she lost track of it as it disappeared into the room. It was suddenly on the floor and Danny was under it, fighting for his life, and she couldn’t make out where the creature ended and Danny began.