But it all seemed so random. He knew any of those incidents could have ended his life, making this whole survival schtick the mockery he knew it to be. He saw the survivors of this thing as big hulking men carrying heavy weapons, hefty swords, and wearing full police riot gear. How else could one truly survive such crazy times?
He was wearing jeans and a Mountain Dew t-shirt, and his partner was a dressed in a light blue pantsuit pushing a cane. Hardly the stuff of legend.
Whoop de do. We've survived for 24 hours since the sirens.
He found the highway again, and was disappointed to see the traffic was still stopped cold. Cars continued to pour off the exit ramp, pumping themselves into the arterial streets of this part of the city. But even those streets were nearly clogged now. It wouldn't be long before everything was in total gridlock.
Liam became very wary of getting caught in the terminal flow of traffic. He turned around to give himself some room. He needed a chance to think through his next move. It was obvious they weren't going to make it going south on the highway or any of the side roads. He pulled over when things thinned out.
Could they walk out of the city? Indeed he had seen many people walking along the highway, but how far could Grandma go on foot? She could walk pretty well for her age, and he had seen her walking for short distances without any cane at all. But those were rare instances when she was at 100% health and rest. Now, she could barely stay awake while sitting in his back seat.
How far could we both get on foot?
Not far.
As he sat there, his hands began shaking. His mind was reliving the incident with the thief.
How close to death did I come?
He felt himself being pulled out of the car and tossed to the ground. He imagined himself being shot. He imagined Grandma getting pulled out of the car. He imagined...
NO! I will not imagine that!
He silently began weeping. He couldn't help himself. He was slightly embarrassed that Grandma would hear him, but once it started he was unable to check it. His head collapsed on the steering wheel as he let the emotions of the past day consume him.
In the back, Grandma slept on.
For the first time in his life, Liam actually envied her.
Chapter 7: Maple Syrup
Liam sat exhausted in the front seat of the car. His tears had dried and he found himself staring out the front window. He knew it hadn't been long since he'd pulled over—glancing back he could see Grandma was still asleep. But now he needed a plan.
Time for the “big guy pants” as his dad would say.
Once again he turned on the radio to see if he could glean any useful information. Earlier the radio mentioned the Red Cross might be downtown near the Arch, which he took as enough of a good sign to seriously consider heading that way.
Going south didn't seem possible given the traffic situation. Going west might be possible in a pinch, but that would take him into the bulk of the population of the city—enough reason to avoid that way. North would take him directly away from his goal, so that made no sense at all. Finally, he figured his best bet was to drive east into Illinois, where the population was low, then turn south and try to come back over a bridge back into Missouri near his home. It would require going through downtown, which made him anxious just thinking about it, but then they would be in open territory over in Illinois—a fact which suited him just fine after his encounter with the thief.
All the stations on the radio were filled with emergency broadcast loops. The AM station previously broadcast freely had returned to the standard government messaging. They advised listeners to evacuate the city, but never gave any clues about how to do it, or where to go. A week ago he wouldn't have listened to a government broadcast to save his life. Now his life did depend on a government announcement, and he was dismayed to discover they had no answers for him.
Totally useless!
With no help from the radio, he knew he would have to make a choice soon. He gently woke up Grandma to see what she would think of his downtown plan.
She looked around, including out her window, and into Liam's backpack.
“He's gone Grandma. He didn't get our stuff either, but I'm not sure what happened. I was laying on the ground and when I got up the crook was dead. Then I jumped in the car and got us out of there.”
“Someone shot him Liam. I must have passed out from all the excitement. I'm so glad you're OK. I'm not doing a very good job taking care of you, am I?”
“We're both alive. That's all that matters now. Someone shot the Yoga woman for me too. I think I have a guardian angel. I've learned an important lesson; the rules are changing. I'm going to be smarter from now on, so I can protect you and me both.”
Grandma leaned forward just enough to touch Liam's shoulder with reassurance.
“We make a good team.”
“Well teammate, we need a new plan now. The highway to the south is completely stopped. All the main roads going south next to the highway are also filled with people trying to escape. It didn't look like any of those people were going to be moving anytime soon. The radio also has nothing useful on where to go. I figured we'd try to get across a bridge downtown and then drive south on the Illinois side of the river.”
“Sounds like a good plan Liam.”
“Will you help me navigate downtown? I'm afraid I don't know where to go.”
The extent of his driver's education with dad ended at Grandma's house. The rest of the city was a blank space as far as roads went.
“I'll do what I can.”
Liam pulled back onto the road, guided by Grandma to find a route downtown. Unlike the stream of cars going south, the road in front of him was mostly devoid of traffic. He wasn't willing to use the term “good luck” just yet. He knew just how fast luck could go down the toilet.
Liam felt a hint of a smile on his face as he sped through the dying city. Heading for freedom.
Looking in the rearview, Grandma's face was much more stern.
2
The street was a major thoroughfare in this part of the city. It had two lanes of traffic in each direction, with a breakdown lane in the middle. There were very few cars going in either direction, but there were a few. The massive backup of south-bound traffic hadn't reached this far north yet.
Ahead, Liam saw several cars on fire, sitting in various parts of the roadway in front of a row of apartments. Strangely, other cars were moving among the burned out hulks, seemingly unconcerned with the incongruity.
Liam was gaining his sea legs on this terrible ocean. He immediately stopped the car, and began looking for alternate routes where he could turn down a side street and avoid even being near the scene of such destruction. Grandma was in the back seat, watching ahead as well.
“Grandma I'm turning on a side street. I don't think we should go anywhere near those burning cars.”
“I'm with you.”
Liam drove forward a hundred or so feet before making a left turn, then a quick right turn to run parallel to the main road he had just left. This took him into a more residential area. There were a few cars parked along both sides of the street, but there were also a lot of trash cans rolling around, along with lots of trash and debris—as if many of the houses had simply thrown their contents right out their doors.
More ominously he saw odd characters walking aimlessly around the area. Sick? Infected? Lost?
Liam wasn't stopping to find out. He hit the gas a little harder. He looked at the speedometer and saw he was pushing fifty mph down the narrow lane. Not bad for a 15-year-old with a learner's permit!
Time slowed down again.
Liam reacted to the broken front passenger window by dropping his head as low as he could. It was instinct. As they sped along, several gun shots exploded from the right side of the street—from up in the houses lining that side.
Both windows on the passenger side blew out.
Then the rear window blew out.
The headres
t on his seat crumpled from another shot which came in from the side.
That was close!
Grandma fell over sideways in the back seat, covered with tiny pieces of safety glass.
Liam chanced a sideways glance but didn't see the shooters. He was going much too fast. Instead he refocused on the path ahead to ensure they didn't have an accident. Shots continued to ring out behind them, and he could see in the side mirror a couple of men had run into the street behind him to try to shoot them, even as he drove away.
Only a few seconds more...
He hit a right turn borderline too fast, just able to maintain control of the car as it righted itself into the new street. He scraped a car on his side as he couldn't quite make the turn cleanly. The four-door sedan had never been put through such stress-testing.
Rather than being scared, Liam was mad as hell again. It was unheard of to be shot at by brigands right out in the open like that. Bad people were using this disaster as an excuse to—do what exactly? Were these bad people showing their true colors, or good people gone bad due to the chaos? It had scarcely been 24 hours since law and order ceased to exist. Things were going downhill fast if this was how it was going to be. He had a few moments to ponder things before the wheel needed his full attention.
He focused on the upcoming left turn back onto the main street and he was pleased to see they had gone far enough to travel past the burned out wrecks. Were the men on the previous street the same ones who burned the cars on this one? Why would anyone randomly destroy cars and shoot at people they didn't know? Liam absently wondered why they didn't just shoot out his tires and force him to stop. Were they really that focused on killing him, to the point they were no longer rational? He had no explanation that fit the circumstances. He wasn't going back to interview them.
Pardon me. Could I ask you a few questions?
They quickly overtook another vehicle—a blue two door sedan—with a family inside. They looked at Liam as he matched speed for a second, and then he resumed accelerating past them.
The open road was just as dangerous as everywhere else. Even a friendly-looking family couldn't be trusted as far as he was concerned. He could trust no one but himself and Grandma.
In the distance, he got his first glimpse of the Gateway Arch as it twinkled in the mid-day sun. He had many memories seeing it as a kid—how many times had his parents excitedly pointed it out as they were driving? It was a source of fascination and pride for locals like him. As he admired the national landmark, a snarl of traffic came into view on the street ahead.
Will anything be easy ever again?
3
The traffic wasn't as bad as it appeared at first glance. A major intersection in this part of the city was catching traffic from the nearby highway, as well as the growing traffic heading downtown. Several other drivers must have gotten the same idea to head downtown once they realized the highway out of town was toast.
Once through the busy intersection they made good time for a few minutes before once again coming upon a jammed intersection. This time it was worse.
They were only a couple miles from downtown. They could see the big Anheuser-Busch brewery that was a cultural icon in this city. As they came over a small rise they could see the traffic ahead was completely stopped. As cars came up on the end of the traffic jam they stopped and passengers got out and joined the people ahead of them on foot. Liam could already see a few cars wander in from behind him, about to make sure he never left this entanglement.
His survival instinct kicked in. He turned the car hard to his right to avoid the cars in front of him. Angie's severely damaged car jumped the curb and came to a stop in a tiny parking lot for a fast food joint. He heard a loud pop. He backed his car sloppily into a spot up against the building, allowing himself a clear shot to drive in any direction he chose—except into the traffic jam itself—should he change his mind about joining the sea of walkers going downtown.
Several other cars took his lead. Soon the little parking lot was full, as were several other open spaces on this side of the road. He was silently impressed with himself for thinking of something that was so useful to his fellow travelers. It felt good to lead, even if it was just a bit of luck on his part for thinking of it.
His pleasure faded once he exited the vehicle and saw the condition of the car. Angie had some pride in her vehicle and took care to keep it washed and waxed at a local hands-on car wash. If she saw her car now she would fall over dead.
Not funny Liam!
Three windows were totally blown out. Several bullet holes peppered the passenger side, including a couple up near the engine. It was a miracle nothing was permanently damaged under the hood. He walked around and inspected as much as he dared. One bullet had mangled the locking assembly of the passenger-side rear door, making it impossible to open it. He reached in through the broken glass and grabbed his backpack. As he pulled back he noticed the front tire had gone totally flat. Liam imagined it made the car look sad.
“So much for getting to Illinois.” He said it out loud, but mostly to himself. They were now committed to the only place anywhere which seemed to offer some help. The area down by the Gateway Arch.
Grandma exited on the far side. She shook herself free of the glass. She reached back in to grab her cane and then casually leaned against the exterior of the car to wait for Liam to gather his stuff.
Louder, he joked, “I guess we don't have to worry about locking the door.”
“Or worrying about the rain,” Grandma quipped. She gave herself a little giggle.
One of the people in a nearby car had wandered over and gave a little whistle when he took in Liam's damaged ride.
“Whoah! You guys must have hit some turbulence!”
Liam wasn't really in the mood to deal with strangers, but just couldn't resist bragging about it.
“Yeah, a couple of dip-wads a few miles back were shooting up cars. I just put the hammer down and blew through their trap.”
He looked at Grandma to see if she would scold him, but she was looking the other way.
The man gave another whistle. “Yeah, we had to drive through someone's lawn to get around some fellas holding up cars about three miles south of here. I guess we are all lucky to make it here.” He then told Liam “good luck out there” and started walking away.
So much for basking in the glory.
With pack on his back he walked around to Grandma. She was silently looking at the crush of abandoned cars and beyond toward the Arch.
“Do you think you can walk to the Arch from here Grandma?”
She was silent for many moments before responding.
“I don't see any other option at this point. I'm going to need your help, but I think I can do it.”
She held up her cane so she could bring up the feet closer to her face.
“I'm going to need your help too cane. Don't let me fall!”
She chuckled a little at her own joke, then slammed the cane back to the ground and started walking—slowly—away from Angie's wrecked car.
Liam looked at the Arch. The safety of the port was only a couple miles away. So close yet so far away.
4
After the excitement at Grandma's house, the struggle to escape Angie, getting beaten up by a criminal, and the stress of actually driving the car in the chaos, the walk toward the Arch was positively anticlimactic.
“When we get downtown I hope they're serving hot dogs and soda, like a baseball game!” A small girl behind them blurted that statement to everyone in the area.
Liam was holding Grandma's arm as he walked, but turned partway around to look at the child's parents, seeing a tight-lipped grin as they gave her affirmation about what she would find down there. Anything to keep the children happy.
Liam recognized the body language and tone from his own interactions with his parents. Sometimes it was just easier to go with a lie than explain an ugly truth. There were almost certainly no hot dog vendors downtown,
and even if there were, the pressed meats would already be long gone with a group this large.
Would there be any help at all downtown? After what he saw on the roads of the city, Liam was pretty sure he knew the answer to that, but still he had hope, and tried hard to listen to the conversations of his fellow travelers to see if they knew more than he did about what was ahead.
The friendly crowd of walkers continued to grow. If he didn't know where he was, Liam would have believed he was in a crowd heading to a baseball game. He and his father didn't make a habit of it, but whenever Liam's dad got free tickets to a game he would take Liam for a father-son adventure at the ballpark. The only differences between that crowd and this one was the colors—not as much Cardinal red today—and what people were carrying. He could definitely see lots of coolers and bags of food, as well as firearms. Open carrying of guns was something you would NEVER see on any normal day in the city limits of St. Louis.
He looked carefully now and saw that more than a few men and women were carrying things slung over their shoulders, covered with fabric or trash bags. Some just carried their rifles right out in the open, which made it even more obvious that others were also carrying rifles, but had chosen to pretend they were something else. Liam didn't understand what they were trying to prove.
They passed a man standing off to the side of the crowd, holding a cardboard sign for the walkers to see. “God did this to you. Repent!” Liam wondered what Grandma would think about such an insensitive statement, but if she saw it she said nothing. He wasn't willing to blame God for the plague; he saw God in context with boring Sunday sermons or with high praise from family members. Never did either suggest a benevolent being could inflict something like this on mankind.
The man's sign was getting other people talking about the root cause of the catastrophe. Liam tried to overhear the conversations of people as they walked nearby. The first person he could clearly hear was talking about some clues he received on his shortwave radio.
Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Since the Sirens Page 9