Siren Songs: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 2

by E. E. Isherwood

  On a nearby tree-covered hilltop the Scouts had constructed a three-story wooden watchtower with stairs leading from one level to the next. Each twelve-foot by twelve-foot level was empty but bounded by a slatted railing, like you'd find on a backyard deck. It provided a convenient destination as it was essentially the only structure built outside the main valley. But it was a bit of a joke as a watchtower because it was built inside the canopy of trees, making it useless for any function but walking up and down stairs for exercise. Nothing beyond the hilltop itself could be seen through the full foliage of the trees.

  The path leading up to the summit was steep but well-traveled, making it easy to keep a steady pace the whole way for the boys. They only needed to set Marty down a few times on the mile-long ascent. When they reached the tower, they helped her walk up the three steps to the first level and then sat her down on the top step.

  “How are you, Grandma? How do you feel?”

  “Oh I'm fine, Liam. Our walk over the hills earlier today took a lot out of me, but I'm doing OK. This time going up the hill was much easier thanks you strong young men.”

  The younger boys immediately went to the top level of the tower, as every Scout before them had done—laughing and hollering the whole way up. It wasn't long before they came back down, in complete silence. “There are plaguers over the hill!” They were quiet, but forceful in the statement.

  Liam and Drew went to the top level to confirm the report. Indeed there was another wooded valley on the far side of the hill, narrower but otherwise similar to the one they'd just escaped. Zombies had found their way into the woods and were meandering around the open spaces down the hill.

  “Yep, zombies are here.”

  Most of them were in the valley. But some were moving up the hill, directly toward them. Did they see the kids running and laughing as they went up the tower?

  Why can't I just have a nice relaxing afternoon?

  He and Drew moved back down to the bottom level. For now the zombies were out of sight.

  “Grandma, we might have some company.”

  “Oh dear.”

  Drew and Liam hashed through their options. They could continue to carry Grandma around the woods, hoping to elude the zombies, but other than the trail back down the hill toward Hayes, there were no others. If they went off the trail, it would make carrying her difficult in the sloping terrain and dense underbrush.

  “We could go back down to camp and try hiding.” Drew presented this as question.

  The only other option was to stick it out at the tower, hoping if any zombies made it up the hill, it wouldn't take much to put them down. His concern was for the safety of the boys he'd brought along. If the zombies trapped them on the tower, or if there were more zombies in the woods than they could immediately see, it could be the end of them all. Liam didn't want that responsibility.

  One of the boys tapped Liam on the shoulder. “Liam, look over there. A plague—I mean a zombie!”

  The creature was walking along the path they'd just come up, cutting them off from the relative safety of the tent city. It was just one, but there could be more. Almost certainly were.

  “OK, we'll stay put. If we're quiet they may leave us alone. That will give Mr. Lee time to get here and then we'll see whether we need to fight or not.”

  Ten minutes later he knew things were not going to be peaceful and quiet. Several zombies came up the hill, almost invisible in the underbrush until they were a stone's throw away. They made for the group sitting on the first level of the tower. He watched as the first wave of them made enough noise to pull in those behind them.

  Liam had his little hand gun, with a few rounds in the magazine, but he knew it was only useful as a last resort. It wasn't a loud gun by any definition, but it did make a distinctive crack that would be unmistakable if anyone within earshot was listening for it. If they were going to do this, he didn't want to survive only to see Hayes coming up the other side of the hill.

  “OK, Drew and I will be the first line of defense. We'll stand here at the top of these steps and use our sticks to...impale...any zombies that come up to us.” He blanched at the thought of all the blood it would create. He knew it had to be done. “Can two of you guys give us your sticks?”

  After taking the sticks of the two volunteers, he asked them to pull the two wooden poles out of the stretcher canvas and sharpen one end of each. They would make perfect spears. Each boy whipped out a pocket knife and set upon the stretcher as if their lives depended on it. The remaining two boys with their sharp sticks were to patrol the first floor behind Liam and Drew, ensuring none got over the railing around the platform. Marty was moved to the second level. Liam didn't think they would create a stack of dead zombies on this hilltop, but he knew better than to assume.

  As he watched the handful of zombies appear out of the brush, he thought back to the experiment he'd seen with the zombies from Chicago. Those could climb. What kind of trouble would they be in here if these zombies happened to have come from a bus full of Chicago natives? He gripped his small spear a little tighter.

  “Hey guys, if you see anything unusual, like they start climbing over the railing, let us know. Expect the unexpected!” There were five visible zombies now, all within about twenty yards of the tower.

  What am I forgetting?

  Drew drew first blood.

  He was closest to the lead zombie. He braced himself, watched the pacing of the plain-dressed man, and plunged his light spear directly into its eye. He almost fell forward as the zombie tumbled backward. His stick was stuck inside the brain pan. Liam had to turn sideways to hold Drew, and Drew held tight to his weapon as it slid out with a wet slurping sound. He fell backward and pulled himself up the steps on his backside.

  Liam couldn't help himself. His stomach was empty, but he threw up anyway.

  The next zombie pulled up as his mate thudded to the ground.

  Since Liam was the most prepared, he called out he would take it. He too braced his feet and readied himself for the impact, but when the zombie arrived his head moved higher than Liam anticipated, and the point of his stick went through the left side of his throat and neck. The profuse bloodletting caused him to throw up again, even as he wrestled with the stick to pull it out for another thrust. The zombie was not cooperating.

  He's going to pull me.

  Liam was about to release his stick and let the zombie take it when Drew launched his own spear for his second kill. His aim was true, and another eye puncture ended the conflict abruptly. Together they were able to pull their weapons out and return to the top of the three-step flight.

  Looking at what they'd just done with the spears, he imagined them as stakes, and the zombies as vampires—he'd just put a stake through the proverbial heart of these creatures. He and Victoria had wondered whether it was more appropriate to call these things vampires. They consumed blood like a vamp, and they could be killed with one swift blow to the head with a stake. The only difference he could see was that he didn't have to aim for its heart. Of course he'd never had the time to experiment with where else a stake might kill a zombie—he'd just assumed, based on the literature, to aim for the head. Perhaps it was all academic anyway. As far as he knew he was pretty much the only person who cared what the things were called. Most people simply called them infected or sick or plaguers.

  He was desperately tired after his first encounter. The adrenaline was pumping hard, but his exertion at holding the spear while the zombie thrashed left him exhausted. He wasn't going to complain. Three other zombies were making their plays, and as one of the older boys he had to do his duty.

  The most distant zombie appeared to be going for the far side of the tower, where one of the younger boys would have to deal with it from behind the relative safety of the railing. The other two were closer, and heading for the same opening as the pair before.

  The two dead zombies were sprawled on the ground just below the steps, the beginnings of the inevitable pile
. Currently they served as tripwires for the walking horrors now approaching. Rather than step around the bodies, the zombies tried to step on them. It was as if they couldn't be bothered to take a slightly longer route to the humans directly in front of them. It was their literal and figurative downfall.

  As the first zombie fell over its friend, it landed clumsily on the first step. It then tried to claw its way up the steps, again as if standing would add too much time. This allowed Drew to push in his stick once again, just as the pining creature looked up at him.

  Liam did nearly the same thing when the other zombie was on the step looking up. Liam's stick got stuck in the zombie, and broke.

  Liam was embarrassed to be the one with a broken spear, but the feeling only lasted a second. He turned around in time to see one of the young boys lunge with his own little spear, but he missed the head of zombie poking over the side rail. Instead, he sunk it a little way into its shoulder. As his arms were extended, the zombie grabbed him and pulled him whole hog over the railing.

  Liam looked up, trees all around were rustling with new arrivals.

  That guy.

  Liam threw down his useless stick and jumped down the small flight of steps to solid ground. He was on the run while pulling the gun out of his waistband. He only had his original nine rounds.

  Five seconds and he was running full speed.

  Seven seconds and he was around the corner.

  Eight seconds and he was decelerating to a stop, thumbing the safety.

  Ten seconds he was taking aim at the zombie now wrestling the Scout.

  Eleven seconds and he pulled the trigger.

  Twelve and thirteen, he pulled two more times. At least one of those went through the zombie's head.

  It tumbled over.

  Next to him, the boy was still holding firm to his unbroken spear.

  Liam grabbed him, pulled out the spear, and they both climbed over the railing closest to them—putting themselves into the safety of the little wooden platform once again. There was no time for celebrating. Drew was screaming for Liam to get back to the steps.

  The forest was alive with the sound of rustling leaves.

  5

  As Liam ran back next to Drew, he recognized he had just saved the life of his young companion. Even if Hayes somehow heard the shots and knew where to look, it was worth it to save a life. It felt pretty good.

  He was still carrying the spear he pulled from the zombie he'd shot, and he decided he would stick with it unless it broke again. He needed it more than the young boy, for now. Using the gun would be easier, but the sound and lack of ammo made it a tool of very last resort.

  The two kids working the stretcher poles were still at it. The ends of their poles were just starting to get rounded with the blades of their knives. They were still out of the game, and the group was already a spear short.

  Still no sign of Mr. Lee.

  As he resumed his position next to Drew on the steps, Drew gave him a chuck on the shoulder. “Nice work, man. That was some fast thinking!”

  “Thanks.” It was all he could muster amidst the rising and falling adrenaline bursts.

  More zombies were coming into view. Several were indeed coming up from the open valley below them, but more were coming along the ridgeline.

  “It's like they've been waiting out here for something to do.”

  Liam couldn't disagree. Could they have all been alerted by the sounds they'd made earlier on the tower? Did they all get lost in the woods, only to awaken at the sounds of the small battle? None of it made any sense.

  As the forest continued to spit out the dead, Liam took stock of their situation. The six of them could easily run down the mountain and be safe within a few minutes. But Grandma was on the second floor. He wasn't going to leave her. “Guys, things don't look too good here. If any of you want to escape down the hill I wouldn't blame you. This may be your last chance.”

  The two kids working on spears never looked up. They reaffirmed they were staying. Liam wondered if they just wanted to try out their new weapons.

  Kids!

  The young boy who was pulled over the railing looked much more hesitant, but he also said he'd stay and fight with everyone else. The last boy, still with his spear in hand, said he would fight until the zombies got him.

  He decided to give the frightened boy something to do. “You—what's your name?”

  “Bobby.”

  “OK Bobby, I want you to sneak up to the third level and tell me what you see. Look down into the valley on this side. Also, if you see Mr. Lee, yell like your life depends on it. Sound like a plan?”

  He nodded and started up the steps.

  Preston was the other boy with a small spear. Liam told him he was responsible for the three other sides while he and Drew took care of the side with the steps. He also advised him to allow the zombies to come up to the railing and stand there, rather than kill them. When the boys were done with the long spears, they could use those to dispatch any that remained.

  He didn't want to risk another boy getting pulled over the sides.

  The first of the second wave of zombies was now up to the steps. The time for running had passed.

  Drew and Liam became adept at slaying the zombies at the stairway. Since they had to crawl over their predecessors, the zombies became easy prey to pounce on with the little spears. They realized they didn't have to sink the weapons very far into the zombie heads, making it easier to pull them back out. They were able to dispatch another four or five in a row before things started to get serious again.

  The recommendation to allow the zombies to park themselves outside the railing seemed like a good one, but the agitation of being so close to their prey drove the zombies mad with rage. Four of them began thrashing themselves against the railing. A slat broke inward, making a sound that caused all the boys to look where it came from.

  “Uh oh!”

  To Drew he said, “One of us is going to have to go push those zombies off the railing.”

  “I'm on it.” Drew left the steps, leaving Liam alone in the breach.

  “Spear ready!”

  One of the kids with the pole from the stretcher was ready with his crude weapon. He stood up with it and realized how unwieldy an eight foot spear could be. Instead of heroic slaying, he was more likely to knock down one of the other boys.

  “Two boys to each big spear! Little guy in back to hold it, bigger guy in front to guide it and lunge it in. Go!”

  He thought about taking the big spear for himself, but he was finally getting adept at using the smaller spear. No sense messing with a good thing.

  Soon the second big spear was done, Bobby came back down, and the four younger boys were learning on the job how to properly execute an attack with the crude weapons.

  The stronger kid in the front would call out what zombie he was aiming for, and then the pair would run a few paces while the spear was guided home by the person in front. Because the spears were large and smooth, they seemed to go in and come out with relative ease. It was also more forgiving on where it impacted, as it would severely damage the zombie's head wherever it hit.

  Back. Forth. Zombie skewered.

  Back. Forth. Zombie mushed.

  Some cheers.

  Back. Forth. Zombie drilled.

  Hooting and hollering.

  Back. Forth. Zombie hollowed out.

  Trash-talking and high-fiving.

  The kids were starting to enjoy the task. This did not make Liam feel good. In all his reading he couldn't remember too many instances of bloodlust in young kids, but he had to believe it was better to be overzealous in battle than crying in the corner. Right?

  He wondered if anything was going to be “normal” again in these turbulent times? Certainly growing up wasn't going to be the same anymore. Victoria had wondered if killing was going to be a requirement in the new era of zombies. Before she herself was killed...

  That's irony right there.

 
He looked around and was pleased to see they'd done away with all the zombies trying to attack them over the past ten or fifteen minutes. Most lay dead or incapacitated in the close semi-circle around the tower. Some had stumbled off to expire deeper in the woods.

  They were taking it all in, celebrating amongst themselves, when Mr. Lee coughed from a little ways down the hill behind them. He was trying to get their attention without scaring them, or getting shot.

  He was with six older Boy Scouts and two adult men, all carrying rifles.

  More irony. The battle had just ended.

  Chapter 13: Maskirovka

  After arriving at the watch tower, Mr. Lee and his team set up a perimeter to wait for more zombies. There were still many lurkers in the next valley, but none were on their way up. For now, the group had some time to think.

  “I'm sorry it took us so long to get up here. Your friend Hayes caught me while I was in the administration building getting a couple of extra guns. He wanted to talk to the whole committee, and since I was in the building...”

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  “So, this is what I know. Obviously, it was the guy you thought it was. By coming up the road he showed us he has the MRAP and at least two Humvees under his command. And that MRAP has that sophisticated Gatling gun up top. Wow. He seemed positive you were in the camp, Liam. He didn't come out and say it, but he might as well. For instance he knew the approximate time you arrived. He said you were a Boy Scout. He knew, or at least assumed, you'd find friends here. I think he suspects someone was hiding you, but he never accused us directly.”

  Lee sat down on a step to the second level so Grandma could hear.

  “The odd thing is he said he didn't have enough manpower to sweep the camp, but he would be back tomorrow with the force he needed. He was very friendly about it, but there was a threat there too. The rest of the committee was thankfully tight-lipped, but I'm not sure how long they'll mind their tongues if a serious military force arrives and starts ripping up tents looking for you. He didn't stay long, and he seemed unnaturally happy. He bade his farewell for the day, and then got back in his Humvee and took off. Once he left I was able to collect my guns, grab a few boys, and head into the woods.”