Stop the Sirens: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 3

by Isherwood, E. E.

  He shot the glass. They carefully made their way through the broken glass frame and were inside the Arch museum. It was the same place where he and Victoria and Grandma had sought shelter on the second night of the disaster.

  “Follow me,” he yelled.

  The whole complex was underground, underneath the Gateway Arch. The pedestrian tunnel dumped into the large museum about westward expansion—a quaint notion now—which in turned linked with the cavernous ticketing areas. Tunnels led north and south to the legs of the Arch, where in better times visitors could board the trams to the top of the structure. Two other tunnels led to more glass doors and the outside.

  As they ran through the museum, several holes in the ceiling suggested the military's bombs had done their work here. Everything inside the museum had been rearranged, or burnt to a cinder. They could easily climb out any of the many holes they passed, but Liam had a specific place he was trying to reach.

  “Why don't we go up Liam? I want to get out of the dark.”

  “When I was looking at Grandma through the binoculars I saw lots of zombies, pretty much everywhere up top. We're going to try to get into the railroad tunnel. That will keep us off the surface and drop us pretty close to the boats.”

  Behind them, they could hear zombies once more.

  “They broke through the glass!”

  Liam picked up the pace, which was still pretty slow because he had to weave through the wreckage. Girders from the ceiling were on the floor, along with dirt and other matter from up above. The body of the large stuffed buffalo, which had always stood sentinel at the entrance, had been ripped apart. They passed out of the museum and into the ticketing area where the police and gangs had fought. He finally made his way into the side tunnel leading down to the loading area for the south leg of the Arch. That's where they'd find the final duct work into the railroad tunnel.

  They arrived at the open door to the maintenance room; the lock had been blown open.

  “Through here.”

  He ran into the room where they had taken refuge weeks ago, and he briefly looked at the stairwell Victoria had climbed with her flashlight while he was locked behind the grate of the small crawlspace with Grandma. It might have been the death of her if his police friends hadn't gone up and saved her later. With no further reminiscing, he went into the crawlspace with Victoria safely behind him this time.

  “Almost there,” he shouted. His ears still pounded.

  He happened to look ahead at the exit and saw the faint glimmer of a wire directly across his path. A wire that shouldn't be there. He stopped his crawl and peered at it with his light for a short time.

  “Whoa!”

  Victoria bumped into him.

  “What is it? We can't stop. We just can't.”

  “Uh. I think it might be a booby trap. There's a wire across the tunnel just ahead.”

  He showed her with his light.

  “Oh man. What do we do now?”

  “Maybe we could trick a zombie into going down there for us?” Liam was laughing as he said it, but he looked at Victoria's face and saw it light up with an idea just as his did.

  “We can push something through there.”

  With great reluctance, they moved back into the maintenance area. Many days ago they found a rolling creeper, which they used to get Grandma through the tunnel. Something like that would have been perfect, but they had discarded it just outside the tunnel when they were done with it. The next best thing they found was a metal trash can.

  “What if the explosion causes the tunnel to collapse?”

  As if to mock the question, they heard moans outside the door. There was nothing with enough heft to block the door.

  “All we can do now is pray.”

  Liam used a broom handle to push the trash can ahead of him in the tunnel. He gave himself maximum distance from the wire, then pushed the trash can as hard as he could with the broom handle. It slid down the slight incline into the wire and he was nearly blinded by the light of the explosion. The concussion roared up the tunnel, though it wasn't powerful enough to injure him, it did cause his ears to go numb.

  I guess I didn't think that through.

  Victoria said something, but he couldn't hear her. She pushed him firmly to go ahead. She held her light to her face, and though his vision was filled with stars and tears, he could see her mouthing the word.

  “Zombies!”

  5

  The railroad tunnel was shorter than he remembered. Instead of being a hundred feet to daylight, there were but a handful. The bombs had wrecked it. In the place of the covered rails, there was a long gulley filled with debris. It was pure luck the collapse didn't block their secret exit.

  Victoria pulled him along. He was fully aware of what was going on, but the loud ringing in his ears was very disconcerting, though slowly dissipating. He took that as a good sign. His blurred vision started to return to normal too, the longer he ran in the daylight.

  He stole a look behind. No zombies came out of the black hole in the wall.

  They will.

  The more he ran, the better he felt. Soon they were at the end of the tunnel—where the end would have been—and recognized it as the same spot he had seen Grandma and her captors almost a half hour before. He wondered if there was any chance they were even around anymore.

  The cracked landscape made it hard to see much beyond the next hill, but they moved in the direction of the collapsed bridge to the south where the boats were stationed.

  “Can you hear me?” she shouted.

  He gave her the thumbs up sign as affirmation.

  She smiled, but kept moving. She held his hand, guiding him. He felt like he was getting back to normal, but he liked holding her hand so he didn't let go.

  He was fully distracted by the soft feel of her skin when they came over a crater lip, directly in front of a rubber boat with four people standing near it.

  “Oh sh—”

  The soldiers in black were professionals. Duchesne and the big bodyguard carrying Grandma were on the other side of the boat, walking slowly. The woman and a new guy dragged the boat over the cobblestones, but they stopped when Liam appeared. The man in the back pointed his black rifle at them before he could even think about raising his own. He was holding hands, making it virtually impossible to lift a rifle even if he wanted to.

  Super-soldier Liam, reporting for duty.

  He groaned to himself.

  “Drop those weapons.”

  They complied. Liam pointed to his pistol, indicating he had it and didn't want to be shot for having it.

  “Slowly drop the pistols. And the backpack.”

  The Glock was still in the backpack, though he doubted he'd be brave enough to use it against guys like these.

  “Come on down, you two. We could hear you yelling for a mile over there.”

  Liam felt so stupid. Of course they were yelling. They probably heard the booby trap go off too. Mentally he was smacking his own forehead.

  The man ran up and collected their rifles while Duchesne invited them to come to him. The woman had her rifle out, daring him to argue.

  Chapter 15: End Times

  The NIS team had dragged their boat through the debris so they could launch in the water north of the downed bridge. Duchesne indicated they wanted to get Grandma right to the helicopter, which was across from the Arch on the Illinois side.

  They had brought it through the debris on the near end of the downed bridge, but spent a lot of time dealing with zombies. They appeared tired to Liam, but they were close to their goal.

  Just before the boat reached the water, the head of the woman next to Liam exploded.

  “What—” Liam blurted out.

  Two seconds went by. Enough time for him to wonder if any of the blood and gore had gotten on his clothes. He reflexively looked down.

  The man who had been carrying the boat with her lost a good chunk of his right shoulder. The force of the gunshot flung him towar
d the water; he skidded across the wet cobblestones, into the shallow water.

  Hayes and the bodyguard with Grandma flung themselves on the ground in front of the boat.

  “It's Hayes. Or his floozy. It has to be,” Duchesne yelled to his team.

  Liam was paralyzed with fear. He could run away if he chose. His captors were pinned down. But without his weapons he appreciated how much danger they'd be in. He saw the same look in Victoria's eyes.

  “We have to stick with them or we're dead,” he said to her as quietly as he could manage between the ringing ears and the crunching noise coming off the water. The big jumble of debris at the Poplar Street Bridge had a leading chaotic edge which splashed and spun as the water brought in more junk. Several loose barges bounced in the swell as well, providing the only hint of stability out there.

  “Don't you two think of leaving us. We'll shoot you before you get ten yards. We'll need your services to get over the river.”

  Another shot went over their heads, landing in the water just offshore.

  Liam looked back to the tower and could just barely make out two small dots on the roof. Hayes and Jane were trying to help him.

  “I need you and your gal pal to push the boat in the water for us. We're going to slide along with it. We don't want your Grandma getting hurt now, do we?”

  The implicit threat got him moving, but he looked back to Hayes. Would he shoot him for helping Duchesne? Would he know he has no choice?

  “OK, let's do this,” he said to Victoria. Together they were able to push the rubber boat the short way down the cobblestones and into the water. As promised, the two agents kept themselves hidden the whole time.

  Once in the water the big man carrying Grandma pulled himself up the far side of the boat and attempted to place Grandma on the floor. He had her most of the way in when a hole appeared in his neck. This time they all heard the crack of the gun up on the tower.

  “Dammit, Hayes. You're going to pay for these men!”

  “Liam, you and Victoria need to do me a solid. Stand in the water just in front of the boat. I need you to hold it for me, then I'm going to climb in behind you. Remember your Grandma is right at the end of my gun barrel, just in case you were thinking of doing anything heroic.”

  With great effort they managed to form a wall and get Duchesne into his precious boat. Liam was mentally prepared for him to simply drive away, but he ordered them in as well. Once they were all aboard he explained his plan.

  “You two are going to be my meat shields. Just sit by me and we'll all make it safely to the other shore. And you, Great-great-great old lady, get up here, too.”

  “But she's...” Liam assumed she was still sleeping, or in a coma, or whatever she was in back in the hotel room. “Alive?”

  Liam knew she was alive because Hayes explained he didn't use zombie blood on her, but he couldn't figure out why or how she could sleep through all the excitement back in the room. His incredulity passed as legitimate surprise. Duchesne fed off that while he tried to start the motor.

  “Yeah, we're going to have to figure out what superpowers your grandma has. She survived the zombie plague. She's the most important person in the world right now and that idiot Hayes—the man who claims he's trying to stop the disease—is the one attempting to prevent me from getting her to safety. Isn't that ironic?”

  So many things flew through his head as he watched Grandma struggle to sit up on the small seat. Both he and Victoria gave her a hand, though Duchesne was careful to ensure they never opened a gap between himself and the big sniper rifle bearing down on him.

  “I can't believe you're OK, Grandma. You survived...”

  “Oh, my body is just too old and decrepit to get infected, I guess.”

  He couldn't tell her she hadn't really been infected. It would decrease his value. As it was, Duchesne gave no indication he was going to take he and Victoria to his base, though he was beginning to think that might be an opportunity.

  Unless we end this now.

  2

  Marty found her seat in the boat. She'd been out cold for most of her fireman's carry ride through the Arch. She woke up just as they left the railroad tunnel. Now she was safely in the boat with the man who wanted her to die as a zombie.

  Duchesne fiddled with the engine for a few minutes as they sat in the shallow water. Long enough for Marty to get concerned about the increasing number of zombies walking their direction. She took it as a good sign none of them were runners.

  As he worked on the motor, he seemed to talk to calm his nerves. “Every two-bit berg and city upriver is dumping their garbage into the river. Even the end of the world hasn't put an end to human stupidity. Good riddance, I say.”

  Finally the boat engine cranked over.

  “Suck it, Hayes.” He reversed the boat from shore, then spun it around. Once they were out on the water, Duchesne allowed them to sit in front of him, since he could sit in front of the motor. Victoria sat next to her, while Duchesne made Liam sit next to him.

  The water was really moving. It had lots of churn and it tossed small bits of debris among the larger hazards such as rogue boats, loose barges, and driftwood fields. Two bridges upriver had been destroyed, though their decking wasn't visible in the water. Downriver it appeared that every scrap of debris from all points north had found its way here and smashed itself against the mother lode of detritus.

  The blockage started when the deck of the eight-lane highway was blown. She could only speculate on how the blockage grew so large. There must have been long lines of barges that came loose and collided with the downed bridge, and they formed the core holding it all together. As more things arrived at the stoppage, they either threw themselves against immovable objects and were crushed, or they bounced haphazardly in the mad surf until they were thrown on the debris pile out of the water for good.

  Big blades of water cut all along the leading edge of the logjam as the fast-moving Mississippi made contact with it. She watched as an empty aluminum canoe twirled and spun in circles as it drew upon the deadly stoppage. It found its way between two 200-foot-long flat-deck barges—also bouncing and banging—and crumpled up as the water caught it and mashed it between the two larger boats.

  She made the sign of the cross and said a little prayer.

  She was terrified of what would happen if their boat sputtered and died, but she tried not to dwell on that. Instead, she tried to focus on an echo in her head.

  It said, “Murderer.”

  Oh great. I'm hearing voices.

  Trying to find distraction, she looked at Victoria; she was staring off into the distance—at nothing in particular.

  Before she could engage her to find out how she was holding up, the boat arrived at a long concrete pier, which previously housed a large floating casino directly across the river from the Gateway Arch. Only the faded name was left on the mud-stained wall. Their tiny rubber boat was dwarfed by tie-downs and boat bumpers against the wall of the pier, but Marty's concern remained with Victoria. She had a pained look on her face. Marty began to think the voice in her head was...

  “Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.”

  That's impossible.

  Somehow she could sense what Victoria was thinking. Not just words, but also a strong new emotion. Grandma had to really focus on the word as it flitted in her mind's eye.

  “Revenge.”

  The boat neared the wall, but the churn of the river made it very dangerous to try to get close to the ladder going up. Another of Duchesne's dark-clad friends appeared next to the ladder fifteen feet above. He was bent over with his arms out like he wanted something thrown up to him. Duchesne brought the boat around so it was facing upriver, the motor set to go just fast enough to cancel the effect of the current. She turned so she could see him trying to grapple with a tangle of rope. Something snapped against the wall.

  “Not a chance, Hayes. You can't hit me from this far out. You're going to kill your precious Grandma first.”
<
br />   Suddenly Marty had a brilliant flash of insight, through Victoria's eyes. She immediately knew what was going to happen, and what she must do to stop it.

  She pulled her legs over the bench so she faced backward.

  Victoria, she sensed, was doing the same.

  As Duchesne made a large heave with the rope, Marty looked at her great-grandson. He wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was watching Duchesne as the rope he threw came back down on his head.

  He wound up to make another toss.

  That gave Marty exactly what she needed.

  Just a little push.

  3

  I am Victoria.

  She played it over and over in her head as she crossed the ugly river in the floppy rubber boat. The anger she shared when she thought Hayes and Duchesne had murdered Grandma. That's how she saw it at least. They were willing to murder anyone and everyone to advance their plan. The death of Grandma was bad enough, but they had both willingly tried to kill millions. Such evil could not stand. Evil was the one thing she'd been taught since preschool to fear, and resist.

  Now she sat next to Marty wondering where their future would take them. She was glad the blood wasn't infected—she owed Hayes a modicum of respect for that—but there were millions, probably billions, of people's blood on the hands of the man sitting not three feet away. He was part of the organization that set all this evil in motion.

  She gave a quick glance toward Grandma and could see she was in her own thoughts while doing her best to hold on as the boat bounced and swerved on the choppy water.

  And Liam? He was sitting with him.

  Victoria actually hated Duchesne. He was a man who reveled in killing Liam's entire family—her boyfriend's family. That made it personal. He also was pretty happy to see the whole world engulfed in zombies because it forced the collapse of the United States. Even her Christian upbringing wouldn't allow her to forgive the man. He sealed his fate when he tried to infect Grandma deliberately just so he could see what happened. Transporting them across this river as meat shields against the sniper rifle was just piling on. She resolved this all would end before they left the boat.