0692672400 (S)
Authors: Sam Sisavath
THE HORNS OF AVALON
BOOK 8 IN THE BABYLON SERIES
SAM SISAVATH
CONTENTS
Copyright
About The Horns of Avalon
Prologue
Book One
1.
Keo
2.
Lara
3.
Gaby
4.
Keo
5.
Gaby
6.
Keo
7.
Lara
8.
Gaby
9.
Frank
Book Two
10.
Lara
11.
Gaby
12.
Lara
13.
Gaby
14.
Lara
15.
Gaby
16.
Lara
17.
Gaby
18.
Frank
Book Three
19.
Keo
20.
Lara
21.
Keo
22.
Gaby
23.
Keo
24.
Lara
25.
Keo
26.
Lara
27.
Keo
28.
Gaby
Epilogue
Coming Soon…
Also by Sam Sisavath
Copyright © 2016 Sam Sisavath
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Road To Babylon Media LLC
Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Design
Editing by Jennifer Jensen & Wendy Chan
ABOUT THE HORNS OF AVALON
Some battles are still worth fighting.
Killing has never been something Keo shied away from, but the events of the last year have made him rethink his bloody past. Except nothing lasts forever. Now, Keo has embraced his old ways and set his sights on a new target—and there is nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose.
For Lara and those on the
Trident
, an encounter with a new group of survivors pulls them even further off course. It doesn’t seem to matter how hard Lara tries to steer clear of Mercer’s war on the ghouls; fate seems intent on drawing her into the conflict.
Meanwhile, the fighting rages in Texas, with Mercer’s kill teams roaming the land and collaborators on war footing. Caught in the middle, Danny, Gaby, and Nate are desperate to reach the coast, but find themselves pawns in a nightmarish game of cat and mouse instead.
In this penultimate volume in
The Purge of Babylon
series, loyalties will be tested and destinies embraced, and the road to salvation will finally be revealed to those brave enough to answer the call of the Horns…
PROLOGUE
“
F
ACEBOOK
.”
“Facebook?”
“Yeah, Facebook. Twitter. Pinterest. Basically, all of social media.”
“I never had much use for social media.”
“That’s because you’re old.”
“I’m not that old.”
“You’re pretty old.”
He grunted. “Get off my lawn.”
She giggled. It was barely audible, and he enjoyed seeing her act like such a kid again, so why did it make him wince just a little bit?
Because there are undead things all around us. Everywhere. They could be hiding
under us right this moment.
Great, Riley, freak yourself out some more, why don’t ya.
He was glad for the darkness, because it meant Hannah couldn’t see the hairs along his arms standing up. After all, he was supposed to be the confident one, the adult that got things done. It wouldn’t have benefited either one of them if she saw through that charade over some inane chitchat about what they missed most about the old world.
“What are you going to miss?” she asked.
It was a good question. He hadn’t thought much about it; staying alive in the here and now had always been more important. Hannah waited, arms clenched tightly around knees pulled up to her chest, but he could tell his answers were less important to her than the act of (hushed whispers) speaking, their little rebellion against the cold nights and the things
that moved within them.
Out there, somewhere…
Always out there…
He fought back another shiver and finally said, “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought much about it.”
“Taco Bell,” Hannah said.
“Taco Bell?”
“I love Taco Bell. Their breakfast menu is to die for. Let me guess: You’re a McDonald’s guy?”
“Neither.”
“Neither?”
“Neither.”
“That’s a first…”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve never met someone who wasn’t either a Taco Bell or a McDonald’s guy. I did meet this one dude who liked both, but I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like either.”
“You need to expand your circle of friends.”
“I guess.” Then, “Too late for that now.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
He searched out Hannah’s form in the blackness but could just barely make out her outline. He only knew where to look because she hadn’t moved from the spot she had settled down in, back when there was still light out. This, despite the fact that they were barely five feet apart. There was a time when that distance would be wider, but those nights were long gone. Now, if he didn’t reflexively sit down next to her, she would do it.
Strength in numbers.
And dwindling, fast…
“Are they gone?” she whispered, her voice dropping noticeably.
He didn’t need to think about the question because there was only one
they
out there, right now…
He nodded before realizing she probably couldn’t see despite their close proximity. There was a lonely sliver of moonlight somewhere in the back of the room, but they had made sure to stay away from it. Sometimes the creatures moved across rooftops, and even a small, barely inch-wide hole was too much to risk. After all they’d gone through to survive when so many hadn’t, he wasn’t going to take any chances now.
Stay alive. Just stay alive…
“I think so,” he whispered, matching her pitch.
As soon as the words left his lips, he clutched the shotgun tighter. Two months ago he’d never fired a gun, much less owned one, but now he had three on him. Hannah, meanwhile, carried a small pistol. He had debated about giving a weapon to the sixteen-year-old but eventually caved. She was still uncomfortable around the handgun and rarely drew it, and he never told her it was the same with him.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Hannah said. “Do you think they know we’re up here? Is that why they were inside the house?”
“I don’t know. We were careful…”
“We were really careful.”
“We were,” he nodded again, hoping that would reassure her. “We’ll be fine. We’ve gotten this far, right?”
“Right,” she said softly.
“We just have to stick together.”
“Stick together…”
“Hannah…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m a McDonald’s breakfast guy. Hotcakes and sausage all the way.”
“I knew it,” she said, and chuckled softly.
He could just make out the outlines of her shoulders as they drooped slightly, a sign she was finally relaxing after being so tense for much of the night. He had to look around the floor before he could make out the trapdoor about six feet in front of him. The attic was poorly insulated and the outside chill seeped through the boards. It was a good thing they had taken precautions and raided an Archers earlier today for new—thicker—winter clothing.
“Shopping rocks,” Hannah had said, and he had beamed because seeing her happy and carefree was such a rare thing these days.
Despite staring at her for the last five minutes, Riley couldn’t be sure if she had gone to sleep or was just leaning against the wall to rest. Hannah could sleep anywhere, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if it was the former, especially in this attic where they had spent the last three nights huddled inside. Sometimes he wondered if that was a mistake, that maybe the smarter thing was to keep moving.
But go where? There was nowhere to go. Absolutely nowhere.
The city was overrun. The state, too. Maybe even the entire country.
The world…
Jesus, cut it out. Stop filling your head with things you can’t change, you idiot.
Concentrate on the now—and right now this little girl is depending on you to
keep your head in the present.
His hands had gone numb from gripping the shotgun so tight, and it took some effort for Riley to unclench them. He did it one finger at a time, until he could feel the blood circulating freely through all ten digits again.
Better…
He didn’t even know why he was carrying around so many guns. It wasn’t like shooting them did any good. The damn things
didn’t die
even after you blew their whole head off. He knew because he had done that, and watched with his jaw on the floor as it kept coming like something out of a nightmare. A blood-soaked goddamn nightmare.
When he could hear the telltale signs of Hannah’s sleep-induced breathing, Riley allowed himself to finally close his eyes and lean back against the wall. In the first few nights of the end of the world he’d heard a lot of gunfire, sounds of survivors like him and Hannah fighting back. But then they’d all faded, until there were only the endless silent nights like the one he was listening to right now.
It was hauntingly serene, even soothing, and at the same time terrifying.
T
HE WELCOMING WARMTH
of morning had filled the attic while he had his eyes closed, and his loud yawning woke Hannah, who lay next to him. Her long, dirty hair cascaded over half her face, and she swiped at it before smiling across at him.