They strolled on the gravel road for another couple minutes, then turned around and walked back. They both agreed it felt weird to be so far from Grandma, or lots of people with guns.
On the return trip Victoria surprised him by grabbing his hand.
Totally worth it.
4
When they reached Grandma she was done talking to Phil. He was giving her a big hug, and he let go as they got close. He stood up to meet them. His face was flushed red; he had been crying some more.
“I don't know how your grandma did it, but she answered my prayers. She really did. Thank you both and good luck. I really need some time alone to process this. Please excuse me.”
He walked off, avoiding eye contact as he moved away. Unwilling to share his secret.
So they asked the one person who would know.
“Grandma, what did you tell Phil about his wife?”
“I don't know if I understand myself. Somehow I knew to call out her name and the name of his daughter. I had one more message, but that was just for Phil. I'm having trouble remembering how I knew it though. I'm old you understand.”
That was her excuse when she was too tired to really think about what she was saying.
“Grandma I think we just witnessed a miracle. There is no other way to explain how that happened.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
Indeed. Liam had to admit it was nearly providential the way they found Victoria from out of the tens of thousands of people in the Arch grounds. That she would turn out to be such a critical person in helping him and Grandma get out of the city. And the one big favor he did in return was helping her find a Bible, and that a Bible turned up where it did, when it did. Was it divine intervention, or just a lot of amazing coincidences?
Liam still had trouble believing in God, but he wanted desperately to believe in something. He wanted to have the same faith as these two women.
Maybe Victoria was put here to help me find my way spiritually?
His anger at being “dumped” at Grandma's house by his father had long since dissipated. If anything his parents had done him a favor by putting the two of them together at precisely the same time the world fell apart. It almost seemed his dad anticipated what was going to happen. Almost like he knew.
Wait. What?
He dismissed it as absolute rubbish. His father was always spouting off—he would claim he was “discussing intelligently”—things like government conspiracies, media collusion, and military-industrial scheming... But those were just silly theories.
Right?
He was 99% sure it was all bunk. But the last 1% was elusive. His whole worldview fell apart if that rounding error couldn't be sorted. If his dad was correct it meant the government was the bad guy. It meant he somehow knew what the government was up to. It meant he used his knowledge to save Liam and Grandma while keeping his intentions secret. It seemed believable if he were reading one of his books on zombies, but in the real world it seemed completely insane. All his book learnin' did nothing to help him recognize real zombies until they got up in his face and tried to bite him—so he couldn't necessary trust them as his guide anymore. He looked over to the police back at the bridge—the people who just saved them—and realized THEY were the government. He wanted to believe they represented help, not some massive internet-fueled conspiracy. He resolved to keep his eyes open; to prove his father wrong. He wanted to toss out that last percent of doubt.
For now he was 100% sure he had to come up with a plan for their next move. He still had a deep fear he'd end up being THAT GUY and step on a rake at the worst possible time, but after all he'd just seen and done—and survived—that irrational fear was receding. But he had to be smart in looking ahead. And he had allies.
He'd been guiding Grandma the past four days and it looked as if their time together would go on for a little longer. Even if they arrived at his home this afternoon, he found himself wanting to spend as much time as he could with her. After all, she wouldn't be around for much longer. Would she? Just then he recalled her talking in her sleep. She said something about living to be 120. Rather than fear of spending much more time with her, he'd found anticipation. If things got back to normal and she lived that long he'd celebrate each birthday with real zest. If things got back to normal...
His thoughts turned back to the here and now as Victoria reminded him of a missing person. “Do you see our friend Hayes anywhere?”
Looking around, Liam said, “I can't say that I have. I don't remember him being in the group crossing the bridge either, though I wasn't taking a head count. He could have made it across and then run off. Maybe he swam across. Or he could have run off when we were on the other side. He seemed pretty pissed these police officers wouldn't let him pass.”
“Well it would have been pretty stupid to run off alone just because he felt slighted. No one can survive this thing alone.”
Liam and Victoria both let that percolate for a while. Grandma was fast asleep again, up against the tree. She had one arm over Liam's backpack, as if it needed protecting.
As they stood there, Victoria pulled Liam ever so gently from the orbit of Grandma. She set down her new Bible next to the wonderful old woman, where it would be safe.
“Grandma is sleeping against a tree, just like you were when we met.”
Victoria laughed, “Does that mean I have to smash her fingers, or do you?”
“I still feel horrible I did that to you. I don't think she would like me if I let that happen to her.”
Victoria smiled broadly, a pretty look even if she was wearing too much coal dust and bruises for makeup.
“I think she would forgive you, just like I did.”
She kept pulling him around the bulk of the massive tree trunk.
“There is a question I want to ask you now that it looks like we might live beyond this conversation.”
The police and survivors near the bridge were being blocked from view by the big tree.
She let herself lean back against the trunk, arms at her sides, and put her right foot part way up the trunk, so her knee was pointing directly at Liam. Her dress hiked up a little, revealing her knee, and Liam noticed it was jet black with coal residue. A testament to all they'd survived.
Her posture, positioning, and proximity had him completely confused.
Victoria furthered his confusion by asking, “I was wondering if you could tell me more about the shadow government?”
Her effusive smile was contradictory to the serious question she was asking.
What in the hell does she mean?
And then he remembered their discussion earlier—it felt like weeks ago—thousands of zombies ago —dozens of departed acquaintances ago—thousands of dead bystanders ago—a train ride from hell ago —he told her if she said the code phrase “shadow government” he would kiss her on the lips.
Clueless Liam from four days ago would have never figured it out.
Survivor Liam of today returned the wide smile and kissed the girl.
Maybe the Zombie Apocalypse won't be so bad.
For the first time since the sirens, he had some hope for the future.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost I want to recognize my own 104-year-old grandmother for being the inspiration for the character of Marty. Her passing was also the driving force behind my desire to write this book in the first place. I had over 40 years to enjoy her presence in my life, and she became my archetype for the strengths and weaknesses of someone so advanced in age. I regret to say she passed away in 2014 after living an incredibly long and healthy life. Right up until the end she was witty and lively and...alive. I give my real grandma a single mention in this book, when Al tells Marty that in a parallel universe she “passed away peacefully in her sleep today.” That is my homage to her. The rest of the book is written in the character of Marty, who only shares broad strokes with my late grandmother. I couldn't hope to write faithfully in the voice
of a real person.
However, I tried to write Marty with my grandmother's physical abilities as I remember them, because I didn't want a superhero character that didn't ring true. Could she have walked a couple miles in the June heat, with a young man helping her? Could she have survived stumbling away from Angie? Could she endure lying on the bed of a flatcar for several hours? On a normal day the answer might be no. No woman of 104 goes out and tries these things. Yet, if the world was ending, and she had to do those things to protect her family—absolutely she would have tried. In that light, Marty shares many of the best qualities of my real grandma, though I'm pretty certain mine never roped cattle.
Because of who she was and how she influenced the character of Marty—and my own upbringing, the trajectory of the entire Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse series has a more positive and uplifting direction than it might have otherwise. Liam must remain guarded with so much evil in the zombie world, but he learns to search for the positive in mankind, and in himself. In that sense I can relate to his character, having existed in a world containing such an upbeat person as my own "Grandma Marty." His spiritual growth throughout these books would have made my real grandma very happy.
On reflection it seems almost sacrilegious to put the idea of my sweet grandma into what is essentially a piece of horror fiction, but I would find it hard to write her into any other genre. If she had her druthers she’d probably say I shouldn’t use her as the basis for anything at all, and instead write about someone more interesting. Others in our family might suggest a grandmotherly character should only exist in a friendly story akin to Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine, in which the grandparents are presented in a much more mundane setting. But that wouldn’t be me. I think people become extraordinary when faced with great challenges. Perhaps it means I just don’t have a developed sense of drama, as it appears I need the entire world to collapse and zombies to pour forth before I can take a snapshot of a person and characterize them inside that world. I’m okay with that. I think she would be as well.
Most of my research for this book consisted of me walking around St. Louis city and county, where I live. I spent some of my youth pounding pavement through the redstone flats of South City. I've spent countless hours on the highways of this metropolis. I've visited the Gateway Arch numerous times, though I've never been invited to walk the steps to the top. However, if you take the trams up and down the Arch there are windows inside those cars so you can see the metal staircase from time-to-time. Other locations throughout my three books are places I've been, though some of the details were edited to keep the story moving along. The area underneath the Arch is surprisingly complex in real life, so I had to simplify. The escape tunnel under the Arch may seem contrived, but there are lots of air vents on the surface above the museum. Would a backup vent near the leg of the Arch be unreasonable?
General Patton is one of my personal heroes. You may see his influence in several of my novels. In this book Liam loosely quotes him. "A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week." This is very apropos of self-publishing. I started writing this story in the summer of 2014. The first draft was done in December 2014. And the edits...oh my. My editing highlighter is a nub. I could spend a lifetime perfecting every facet of this book, but at some point it has to be released into the wild. Is this novel perfect? Nope. Instead, I'm "violently executing" a release. And, to let my beta readers off the hook, any errors remaining in the manuscript are completely and utterly my own. I apologize if any of those errors detract from the story. Please, I want to always improve this product, write to me if there is a major flaw or if you want to be a beta reader. I value your feedback.
Finally, I want to thank my family for believing in this project. It took just over a year to turn this glimmer of an idea into a nice-sized novel, and it wouldn't have been possible without a supportive family.
E.E. Isherwood
About the Author
E. E. Isherwood has penned three books about the infected zombies, along with several short stories describing the wreckage they left behind. He has designs for many more tales. His long-time fascination with the end of the world blossomed decades ago after reading the 1949 classic Earth Abides. Zombies are just a handy vehicle which allows him to observe how society breaks down in the face of such withering calamity.
Isherwood lives in St. Louis, Missouri with his wife and family. He stays deep in a bunker with steepled fingers, always awaiting the arrival of the first wave of zombies.
Books by E.E. Isherwood
E.E. Isherwood currently has three books in the Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse universe. Visit his website at http://www.sincethesirens.com to be informed when future titles are launched.
The Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse Series
“Start the Sirens” (Introductory short story)
Since the Sirens
Siren Songs
Stop the Sirens
~~~
“Start the Sirens”
Colonel McMurphy is a tired old warrior tasked with preparing a US military medical camp for the upcoming plague. He is on the inside of the preparations, but realizes he knows absolutely nothing about what's coming. No one does. Well, almost no one. When he finally sees the effects of the infection he understands all his preparations were for nothing.
Book 1: Since the Sirens
When 15-year-old Liam goes to stay with his ancient great-grandmother for the summer, he immediately becomes bored around the frail and elderly woman. He spends most of his time at the library texting friends or reading dark novels. But one morning stroll changes everything as the Zombie Apocalypse unloads itself directly into his life. Now he and his 104-year-old guardian must survive the journey out of the collapsing city of St. Louis while zombies, plague, and desperate survivors swirl around them.
Book 2: Siren Songs
After escaping the chaos of the collapsing city, teens Liam and Victoria are faced with a difficult choice. Do they try to find Liam’s parents or defend their suburban home from refugees and the infected? They find new allies to hold things together, even as the government appears increasingly impotent in the face of a mutating virus. And why is a representative of the CDC trying to enlist Liam’s 104-year-old grandma to his cause?
Book 3: Stop the Sirens
Liam and his parents are reunited at last, but the matriarch of their family has been taken to a covert CDC location for medical experiments. Liam wants to mount a rescue operation, but they must first reach a refuge, endure warring government agencies, and learn Grandma’s location—not to mention survive a world awash in zombies. With Victoria at his side, Liam finds his fortitude bolstered by her faith. Together they begin to unravel the mystery of the zombie plague.
Connect with E. E. Isherwood
Thank you for being a reader of my work. I value your support more than I can say. I love interacting with fans. To contact me, yell at me, become a beta reader, or find more stories about the end of everything, look for me online:
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/eeisherwood
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Visit my website: http://www.sincethesirens.com
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: CIV
Chapter 2: The Libary
Chapter 3: The Long Way
Chapter 4: Quantum Decisions
Chapter 5: Angie
Chapter 6: Coagulation
Chapter 7: Maple Syrup
Chapter 8: Victoria
Chapter 9: Last Rites
Chapter 10: Touristy Stuff
Chapter 11: Antibodies
Chapter 12: Heroes
Chapter 13: The Hole Nightmares Fall Out Of
Chapter 14: Intermodal
Chapter 15: Slow Grind
Chapter 16: The Tenth Circle
Chapter 17: Valkyrie
Chapter 18: Shadow Government
&nb
sp; Acknowledgments
About E.E. Isherwood
Other books by E.E. Isherwood
Connect with E.E. Isherwood
Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Since the Sirens Page 28