Sam Sisavath - The Isles of Elysium

That realization made Keo reach behind his back and slide the Glock out from his waistband and put it in his lap. He kept his left hand on the counter the whole time, next to the same mug of black tea that Gillian had fixed for him this afternoon. He guessed she hadn’t had time to clean it, which made him wonder what kind of conversation she’d had with Jay when the doctor came home. Clearly, she had told him everything. Or most of it, anyway.

Gillian, meanwhile, was looking across the counter at him. She was amazingly calm, and watching her sitting side by side with the nervous Jay made Keo realize just how much all those months fighting Pollard and his men had cost him.

Fucking Pollard. The man continued to haunt him even in death.

They sat staring at each other in silence for what seemed like hours, with only the constant pak-pak-pak of rain against the roof and the occasional crashing of thunder in the distance to break the silence. Thank God for the noises outside, otherwise Keo was sure he could actually hear Jay’s heartbeat thrumming against his chest.

Gillian must have heard it, too, because she got off her stool and went to a cabinet and brought back a bottle of Pinot Noir. She pulled the cork out with little effort, grabbed three glasses from the kitchen, and expertly poured the remains into them. She slid one in front of Jay and smiled at him, and Jay anxiously picked it up and drank most of it in one tilt.

Keo picked up his and sipped once, then put it back down. He wanted to maintain all of his motor coordination if he needed to use the Glock. He prayed he didn’t have to do any shooting, because even with the rain and thunder, gunshots inside a house might still travel past the walls. It would be doubly bad luck if someone were to be walking by on the sidewalk at the same moment. That wasn’t even taking into consideration the potential collateral damage, which was his primary concern now as he looked across the counter at Gillian.

“Sorry, no refrigeration,” Gillian said. “But we just opened it yesterday, so it’s still drinkable.”

“Where’d you get it?” Keo asked.

He didn’t really care, of course, but talking about something as inconsequential as the origins of the wine was a simple and effective way of keeping her mind-and Jay’s-off the two soldiers rummaging through their bedrooms at the moment.

“One of the doctors at Medical has a case of them,” Jay said. “I’m not sure where he got it; probably from a trade with one of the soldiers.”

“That happens a lot? Trading?”

“Pretty much everything other than the bare essentials is gotten through trading,” Gillian said. “It’s a thriving black market. I don’t know if their superiors know about it, or if they just look the other way.”

“What else gets traded?” Keo asked.

“Everything,” Gillian said.

He was going to ask what “everything” included when Owen and Ronny came out of the back hallway.

“Sorry for the mess, Doc,” Owen said. “We tried to be gentle, but we had to make sure there’s no one hiding in the closets or under the beds.”

“That’s all right; you’re just doing your jobs,” Jay said. He smiled, and it actually looked semi-convincing that time.

Thank you, red wine.

“What about upstairs?” Owen said to Ronny.

“I already went through both rooms when I was up there,” Ronny said. “Unless you want to wake Grant up and haul his ass into the rain with us.”

“Nah, let the guy sleep it off. One of us might as well keep dry tonight.” He turned back to them. “Okay, guys, we’ll let you get back to sleep.”

“No problem,” Jay said, climbing off his stool with the almost empty wine glass in his hand. “I’ll walk you guys out.”

Jay followed them to the door.

Keo looked across at Gillian. She was smiling back at him, and he was trying to decide if she’d always been this gorgeous or if being pregnant had given her something extra (not that she needed it), when there was a loud squawking noise and they heard a muffled voice that was lost behind clothing.

The soldiers stopped in the foyer, and Owen pulled a radio out from behind his raincoat. He keyed it. “Say again?”

“Grant,” a voice said through the radio. “Anyone seen Grant?”

“What about Grant?”

“Boss wants to know where the fuck he is. He’s supposed to be at Processing with some new guy, but they never showed up.”

Ronny had already turned around and began to unsling his rain-slicked M4. He walked back into the living room, passing Gillian, until he was standing directly across the counter from Keo. They stared at each other.

Oh so close.

“If anyone sees Grant or the guy he was escorting, don’t let them out of your sight,” the man on the radio continued. “That’s an order.”

“You hear that?” Owen said over at Ronny.

“Yeah-” Ronny started to say, when there was a loud bang! and he stumbled backward, looking more shocked than hurt.

Keo stood up from the stool and hurried around the counter as Owen dropped the radio and scrambled for his rifle.

“Jay, move!” Gillian shouted.

Jay staggered away, stunned, when Keo shot Owen twice in the chest with the Glock. The soldier crumpled to the floor, splashing blood and water in equal measures across the already wet tiles.

Ronny had fallen to his knees, his rifle clattering in front of him. He was holding onto his gut, apparently still unsure how a bullet had hit him in the stomach. Sooner or later, he would figure out that Keo had shot him through the wall under the counter. Or maybe he’d never get that far because Keo shot him again, this time in the head, and quickly picked up the rifle and checked the magazine.

A full load. Good.

Keo waited for the radio on the floor next to Owen’s lifeless body to squawk, for the man on the other side to order soldiers to converge on the sound of gunshots. Instead, he just heard men talking back and forth, and the same voice repeating the message to others who were just now reporting in. There was nothing about gunshots, nothing about converging on Gillian’s house.

“Report in if you find Grant or the other guy,” the voice said. “Until then, everyone stick to your assignments and keep the radio clear for further updates. Over and out.”

He finished unclasping Ronny’s gun belt while Gillian went to Jay, who was leaning against the wall. It was the only thing keeping the doctor from keeling over as he stared at Owen’s body. For a man whose livelihood was spent looking at blood, Jay gave Keo the impression he had never seen it before. Then again, maybe it was the shock of being in the middle of a violent gun battle. Either way, Gillian was whispering to him, her hands rubbing his shoulders. Jay had dropped the glass of wine sometime between when Keo shot Owen and finished off Ronny.

Once Gillian had led Jay to the stairs and sat him down, she walked back over to him. If she was scared, she didn’t show it. He had to remind himself Gillian hadn’t always been pregnant or playing house. Once upon a time, she had saved a group of people inside a hospital infested with ghouls.

That same woman looked at him now with steady eyes. “What if the neighbors heard the gunshots? These walls aren’t exactly soundproof.”

“No, but with the rain and thunder, maybe they won’t know the difference.”

“That’s a pretty big maybe, Keo.”

“Not everyone knows what a gunshot sounds like in real life. Besides, it’s not like anyone has a phone to call the cops. Or maybe they’ll just ignore it, pretend they didn’t hear anything. People did that even before the end of the world.”

“What about the soldiers outside? I’m pretty sure they can tell the difference between gunshots and thunder.”