“I, uh, I, um.”
“Wow, you're sooo eloquent.”
He saw the kiss coming. She'd telegraphed it, and added smoke signals to be sure.
As she leaned down, something struck her on the head, and she bounced backward.
“Liam Peters,” a female voice said without emotion.
He hopped up to a crouch. Elsa—still in her tight-fitting uniform—had wet hair, too. Like she'd been in the river. It was hard to tell as her defensive skin wicked water. Her boots were soggy, though.
“Where's my daughter?”
He needed a moment to think, but his response flowed easily once he saw her.
“Little Debbie? I have no freaking clue. You nuked her!”
He turned to tend to Victoria, heedless of what Elsa had to say.
“You were supposed to get her to safety. It's the whole reason I let you go.”
“You've hurt my girlfriend you stupid bi—”
A gun pointed in his direction.
“You recognize this?”
It was an old-looking handgun, but he knew it.
“That's mine.”
“I found this down on the St. Louis riverfront. Isn't that funny? Your mom knew it. I had her scared shitless on the way here that I had killed you and taken this for myself. I admit, that felt good.”
Elsa's laugh rubbed him raw, like a cat's tongue abusing his skin.
At the water's edge, with Victoria out cold but safe in his arms, he was once again faced with the prospect of losing her. He was almost indifferent to the dangers. So many, and all the time.
Though he was prone to jumping into things he didn't understand, this time, he knew what to do.
“God, if you've got one more for me...”
He picked up a rock of just the right size.
“You've already lost, Elsa. You. Your allies. Whatever you think is going to happen now, there are men and women across America willing to stand up and stop it. My mom and dad both did.”
“Ha! They're floating to the Gulf of Mexico. Who else ya got?”
“My Grandma unlocked the Quantum Virus. I've seen what it is.” He'd seen a million movies with the next line. “If you kill me, you'll never find out.”
“Hmm, that is interesting. Hayes said this possibility existed. He was 'working on it.' I didn't believe him, of course.”
She looked at him, long and hard. Finally, she put her gun into a small pocket of her suit.
That was his moment.
6
The rock left his hand as she was looking down at her side to tend to her firearm.
On second glance, she was keying something on her arm…
The rock's trajectory was perfect, and he timed it perfectly. His guardian angel was back! Or thousands of sessions throwing ball with Dad... It struck her above her temple. The impact startled her and she dropped the gun down the rock-strewn bank. Liam was already on the move.
Ignore the gun.
He saw the whole thing like he was in slow motion. If he went for the gun, he risked her getting there first or her jumping on him as he bent down to retrieve it. He would have done the same thing if their roles were reversed. The only chance he had was to dive on her and put her down. She seemed like a dainty woman. With a gash in her head.
He launched himself, intending to knock her off her feet. When he struck her suit, he was surprised that it seemed to deflect him. She went tumbling, but so did he.
A rock, pick one up!
He searched for a rock big enough to throw at her while she was on her back, but he was a few steps from anything useful. At a loss, he grabbed a handful of dry sand and threw it at her face.
She rolled over, shouting obscenities. He gained some satisfaction at her distress, but she lived up to her reputation by rolling to the gun while pretending to be out of commission.
She shrieked in anger and raised it. He had just enough time to get next to her before it went off. The sand affected her aim. He used the time to throw himself onto her gun arm—hoping to force her to drop it.
Once again he slipped on the strange suit, but his hands reached the gun—a normal gun—and together they held it as they rolled around on the rock, sand, and dirt.
“I'm going to kill you, kid. You and your girly are dead.”
“Victoria, help!” He had to hope she was coming to.
The gun went off as they struggled to control it. She was much stronger than he was. A fact he was quickly coming to appreciate.
“Ooh, you're a slippy one. And I'm the one wearing the suit,” she laughed, though she also sounded winded.
She tried to punch him in the jaw, but her aim was sloppy in the tussle.
The distraction of it made him lose his footing—he was between being on his knees and getting to his feet—and began to slip on the uneven surface. The gun was still in his grasp, but he was soon going to be at a severe disadvantage. If she maintained herself somewhat upright, he would be underneath her in moments.
He felt the rocks below his back. She made it to the crouching stance and had plenty of leverage to yank the gun from him.
No!
But simple physics beat him. Her strength helped end it that much faster.
“Nice knowing ya,” she said as she brought the gun to bear.
A flash behind her.
A loud grunt.
Someone brought a big rock down on Elsa's head...but in the fluidity of the battle, she'd moved, so the rock fell on her neck and shoulder. She replied with a wail and let go of the gun. She recovered from the surprise in seconds. It was enough time to see Victoria—blood on her head—hunched over, searching for another rock.
Elsa rolled a few paces away, always moving.
No choice. Get the gun.
He lunged for it. Time hung around his neck like kryptonite. He crashed to the rocks but soon felt the sand-covered gun in his hand. The weight of it rekindled countless outings with his father to shoot the gun now in his possession.
“I'm going to kill your girlfriend the second after I kill you. Put that in your stinkin' book!” Elsa launched herself at him.
Victoria fell to one knee. Hurt.
He fired in the same motion as aiming at Elsa's head. She wasn't a zombie, but her outfit made her immune to zombie bites, and maybe bullets. He wasn't taking any chances.
The first shot glanced off the side of her skull.
He was ready for it.
She was off her feet—springing at him with all she had left—and madly cursing.
He had time for only one more shot.
Aim for the eyes.
The little gun snapped once.
Elsa crashed into him, and they fell to the dirty bank together. She landed on top, taking them both into the water. She screaming in anger and madness, cursing while they thrashed together in the shallows. He was going to test his theory on whether he could best her in the water…
“Die you little punk! I'm going to kill you. Kill her. Kill grandma. I'm going to nuke your whole goddamn state!”
She was on top of him before he knew what was happening. His head dunked while she situated herself above him, but it came up when she solidified herself. She pulled him out so she could talk down to him.
“I'm so done with playing around,” she said breathlessly. One of her eyes was shut from his gunshot.
Victoria came tumbling into the water—jumping on Elsa's back and sending them both flailing into the water. He was pushed under by their combined weight.
When he surfaced, unencumbered, both women were screaming while splashing sideways in the knee-deep water. He took two steps and landed on top of Elsa. He grabbed her hair with both his hands and pulled with all he had left. Her screams went up a notch.
“You're both dead!”
“I don't think so,” he replied. Victoria used the distraction to stand and avoid Elsa's reach. As she got her bearings and saw what he was doing, she jumped on her as well. The combined effort kept her from finding her
own feet, then she fell forward under the surface.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
He saw what was coming, and had a momentary lapse that almost gave Elsa enough wiggle room to escape.
I'm going to kill a person.
“We got her!” Victoria shouted.
Elsa was gyrating like a fish, but Liam used his anger at what she did to his parents to ensure his grip was unbreakable. Together they held the slick woman under the choppy water until it was clear she wasn't going to get back up.
Soon, their deep heaving breaths were all that remained for sound.
The water calmed.
Together they let her go, and she floated in the water. With great effort, he assisted Victoria back to the shore where they both fell heavily. He coughed out some lingering water while she hunched over to catch her breath.
Exhaustion overcame him and he fell flat.
“I guess prayer really does work,” he said to himself when he was finally able.
“I'd say that was all you,” Victoria said through her own exhaustion. She sounded happy. “You killed her.”
“I killed her?”
“We did it together,” she corrected. “And we should make sure she's really dead.”
A million zombies books would agree.
They pulled Elsa to shore and rolled her onto her back. As he looked at her pale face, he expected an explosion of blood and bone from where the bullet had struck, but it turned out to be a bloody eye and not much more. It reminded him of another shooting victim. The thief that pretended to be a police officer. Someone had shot that man dead just as he was about to injure him. At the time, he assumed it was another kindly man in a window.
But now, seeing the small caliber gun's damage on Elsa's face, he was sure he knew who had saved his life that day.
Victoria plopped down, then patted the ground next to her, urging him to sit.
“You're injured...uh, again,” he said with all sincerity.
“She rang my bell, but I'm getting used to it.”
“Lucky for me, huh? A few more seconds and I'd be floating down the river...” he sighed, “with my parents.”
“I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. That was a horrible thing to do to your mom and dad.”
“I could cry, but I don't have time.” He pointed to the wreckage of the bridge on the one side, and the smoke drifting up from Cairo across the river. “She's the first person—real, live, person—I've killed since the sirens. I can't believe how empty I feel. I should be dancing for joy.”
“You get used to it.” Unlike him, she'd already killed more than one “real” person.
She'd been distracted back at her dorm room—leading to their separate journeys to this patch of shoreline—and he wondered if the weight of killing had caught up to her. Like those soldiers who get post-traumatic stress syndrome.
But she didn't elaborate. Instead, she leaned back onto her elbows, like she was having a pleasant day at the beach. “My head is killing me. I think I need to take a little nap.”
“But we have to rescue Grandma. Elsa said her agent has her. Over there,” he said while pointing to Cairo.
“Never make it. Bridge is out, and we'll never swim directly across this fast-moving river unless we run miles upriver first. I'm not feeling like a run or a swim at the moment, either.” She held her hand on her bloody head to staunch the wound.
The rattle of gunfire was continuous on the far side of the river. Through the fleet of barges parked up and down both sides of the river he watched as a ferry captain ran his ship ashore at the southern tip of the town. Military vehicles piled on, along with what he hoped was a suitable contingent of soldiers and other survivors from the town. While he was conducting his failed rescue of the sleepers in the boat, someone was getting it done over there.
“At least they're getting out.” He pointed to the ferry.
“Maybe Grandma's on it?”
“I don't know. I wish we could ask the Quantum computer.”
When he heard himself ask the question, he tried to access it by thinking of it. He didn't know how else to do it. Though nothing happened, he had a sense he was on the right track.
“Maybe it only works when Grandma is around?”
“Oh. You mean she's moving away from us?”
Victoria grabbed his knee, pulling him close so they sat hip to hip.
“We're alive. Thanks to you. She's alive, too. No one is going to hurt her. She's too valuable.” She faced him, though blood ran from a small gash above her ear. “If she's being held prisoner by the most powerful government agency left, I'd say, in a weird way, she's safe for now, you know? Liam, we know what we have to do. Al told us. We have to go find where that real computer is running.”
“And what will that tell us?”
“Who's behind all of this. Whoever made that virus obviously has access to advanced technology. Maybe there's some biotech firm that discovered the cure to Cancer or whatever, and they're sitting on that cure because it accidentally cured all other diseases. Maybe they wouldn't want to cure everything at once? Al said as much.”
He admired her spirit.
“Wow. I thought I was the one who cooked up conspiracies,” he said with a chuckle.
“I saw what you asked the computer,” she said while smiling.
The most important question was one he'd thought up in the moment. He wanted to know where Elsa's greatest enemy—his Grandma Rose—was hiding. Now that Elsa was dead, he wasn't going to assume everything would suddenly return to peaceful mode. The zombies were out there, getting stronger day after day. The Operation Renew convoy was still heading for St. Louis, with all the military units left from the East Coast along with millions of survivors. Elsa said she was in line to become president of the United States. That's why she wanted Grandma Rose out of the way. But he had to suspect she was more involved with the virus itself.
“Where's my Grandma?”
“Not that one,” she said with bright eyes and a smile.
“I asked it where your parents are hiding.”
“The answer was the same for both, wasn't it?”
“Pretty close. Both are in Colorado.”
“If they have Grandma, maybe it will help to be so far away from her. That way they can't make her operate the Quantum computer and tell them where we are. Or where it is. They'll never figure out where we went.”
He wasn't so sure. Drones hovered above the water, like they were lost. If Elsa was dead, maybe it was over.
“What do you think Al meant by non-linear time? Is that like time travel, or something?” he asked, while watching the water.
“I have no idea. Hans seemed to think this all began during the Spanish Flu in nineteen-whatever a hundred years ago. That seems to add up in a strange way. I guess we'll know when we find it.”
Colorado, here we come.
Even as he sat there thinking, the drones seemed to perk up. They all began going upriver, out of Cairo. He turned that way to see a gigantic cloud of dust envelope the shore up that way. Like a herd of cattle arriving at the watering hole.
“Liam, look. I saw that cloud on the way in.” Victoria pointed the way he faced. “Come on. We have to go.”
She took off up the bank—in the opposite direction. The drones weren't just going up the river; they were also coming across the waterway. Toward him.
No, toward their dead leader.
“I wish I could kill you over and over,” he said to her body.
Then, as with so many of his adventures, he ran. He couldn't help watch Victoria's fancy jeans as she scrambled up the rocky shore toward the treeline.
“Eyes forward, mister,” she laughed, somehow knowing he was already drawn that way.
He felt hope return. He had his running partner again.
Epilogue
Twenty-one days since the sirens.
Lana woke up with a wet cough. She'd washed ashore after falling in the river tied to her dead husband. The very
thought of it made her shiver, no matter the heat of the new day.
The start of her journey was chaotic as she and Jerry floated between the parked barges or got sucked underneath them. The current carried them ever downriver, ensuring all she needed to do was hold her breath and keep kicking her feet. Soon the barges of Cairo fell far behind.
Eventually, her hands broke free of the zip ties. That's when the real fight began—against the current. She paddled until nightfall, unable to get out of the main channel. Once it got dark, and exhausted beyond words, she gripped some driftwood and let the river take her where it would. Sleep finally took her—until she ran aground.
“Liam,” she thought. “Please be OK.”
When she fell from the barge—out of his sight—she fought to keep her distance from “it” as the dead man flailed in the water with her. The thing that her husband had become—a zombie—had no traces left of the loving person he once was. The father of her only son.
Elsa had them together in that speedboat all the way from St. Louis, and that was enough of a hell for her. Jerry had been chained to the decking, but his vacant eyes and mud-stained and blackened skin were haunting echoes of his former life. She desperately wanted to know how it was possible to dig up a dead man and bring him back to half-life, but she had no interest in talking to Elsa. Several volunteer Polar Bears had helped her get back to her son in Forest Park, only to be greeted in an ambush by the crazy woman and her strike team.
Those four men and women were dead because of her.
Liam is going to die because of me too. I lost him.
“Cut yourself some slack,” she argued with herself, “keeping tabs on Liam was never easy, even before this sickness struck.” In fact, she and Jerry had spent the better part of the last six months arguing with him over his behavior. While Liam did fine in school, he often blew off homework so he could hang out with his friends. Computers. Tablets. Texting. Every distraction she could think of that drove a mother insane—he was into it. Everything but school work.
At least he wasn't into drugs.
That gave her some comfort, but online games were their own kind of addiction. The event that drove Liam out of the house involved gaming—he'd spent the night at a friend's house, but neglected to tell anyone where he'd gone. After a night of alternately crying in fear that he'd hurt himself and screaming in anger that he did it on purpose to hurt them, she and Jerry were ready for war. When Liam walked through the front door the next morning as if nothing had happened, she snapped.
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