Payback time.
Her faith prohibited any thought of suicide, which was funny to her because two weeks ago that's exactly what she wanted. The first night on the run back in the city there were many times she thought about stopping and letting the nightmares in the darkness slither out and steal her away.
Back then I had nothing to live for.
But she ran, tangentially aware of the magnitude of the sin of killing oneself, but also deeply afraid of dying in such a horrible and gruesome manner. She'd seen it over and over...
Then she found Liam and Marty. They seemed like such down-to-Earth people—and Liam was attractive to her in that scruffy-dorky kind of way. He had beautiful blue eyes and was always smiling—the perfect remedy to her life's problems.
She felt herself smile inwardly at that highpoint of emotions during those early days.
But soon after meeting them she was presented with the opportunity to act as a decoy against the gang members, allowing Marty and Liam—and Hayes unfortunately—time to escape the Arch. Was it a sin to commit suicide if you were doing it to help someone else live? She'd have to ask Pastor Beth if she ever made it back to Colorado. She was willing to lay down her life, not just for the new friends she'd found in the faceless crowds downtown, but also to sate her own guilt at running away from her mates on that first night. Finally, she was shot by Hayes, and in her mind she was sure she was going to die. Ironically, it was to be in Liam's house where she'd find salvation. She was shot in his front door as he and Grandma were taken away. Her last thought was a begging for forgiveness. She was done running.
But she was saved—literally—by her Bible. The very one given to her by Liam as an act of friendship; of love. It had to be a sign from God. She prayed around the clock in those dark days waiting and hoping Liam would find his way back to her. When he did, she resolved to never lose him again.
Now she saw her chance to make things right—to give Liam and Grandma a hope at freedom. As the small boat pitched and yawed in the water, Duchesne was trying to throw a rope to his minion up top. And—
Grandma!
Victoria could sense it. It was an incredible rush of awareness. A sudden urge by Grandma to push Duchesne into the water.
I love you, Grandma. Let me take this burden.
She only had a moment to decide, but she was a girl of action.
Just a little push.
4
Liam bounced in the boat during the river crossing. He sat next to Duchesne who kept himself crouched low as he piloted them all using the small outboard motor. He was left to wonder what fate awaited them on the far bank. If they made it to the far bank. He tried to ignore the maelstrom of debris thrashing about a hundred yards downriver from their tiny, fragile, air balloon-ish little dingy. Though the motor had already proven temperamental, he resigned his trust to it. He'd go crazy with stress thinking of all the ways they could die down in that wreckage if the boat lost power. There weren't even paddles...
Just ignore it.
They bounced wildly toward some kind of docking facility on the Illinois side. He wondered if he should try to make small talk with Duchesne as they crossed, perhaps to beg for their lives, but the loud motor made that impossible.
He was a few feet from the two most important women in his life right now. He felt a little guilty he didn't feel quite the same about his own mother, but there was something about his great-grandmother and the adventures they shared that drove him to be a man, to be stronger and more resourceful, to be a loving partner. Being around his father caused him to want to offload responsibility, while being around his mother made him feel he had to more carefully manage his emotions. In short, his parents reminded him he was their child. Grandma's needs required the child to be a man. He knew it was unfair, but he was resolute Grandma made him a better person in her own special way.
And Victoria. He had nothing but good things to say about how she'd helped him these many days as well. She was his partner. His equal, if not his better.
He sighed a contented sigh, knowing they would be fine.
As the boat neared the large seawall port, Liam felt a weird emotion swirling through his head. Was it betrayal? Maybe. The word was there, but it had nuance. He focused hard on what he was thinking and feeling. He thought he heard words, but wrote off the impossibility. He couldn't hear thoughts. But still...the emotions formed into words.
Betrayal.
But not exactly.
Betrayal. And Payback.
He worked through it. The word became obvious as the boat bounced near the seawall.
Revenge.
Liam knew he was a bit slower than the women with emotions. Spending days on end with Victoria taught him a lot about the differences. It took him extra time to ruminate on the meaning of emotional words, and try to understand how Victoria saw the same things in entirely different ways. But that's what made things interesting, even in the most mundane settings.
Now he sensed some kind of powerful emotional link with Victoria.
And Grandma?
The boat tossed on the nasty water, sloshing waves back and forth between the boat and seawall. All the while Duchesne was tossing ropes around. And—
Whoa!
The emotion was overpowering. Both women were broadcasting a message—was it body language—that Liam understood. He assembled the message in an amazingly brief time; he knew what was going to happen and what he had to do. He wasn't about to let either of those women do what they were planning, but he couldn't give away their plan to Duchesne.
Victoria. I've got your back.
Grandma. Thank you for teaching me to be a better man.
He stood up, catching Duchesne at the perfect moment of vulnerability. The man was tossing the rope in a ridiculous way, trying to get it high enough so his friend up on the top of the seawall could catch it and tie it off. The opportunity was golden.
Liam figured he was going to give him—
Just a little push.
Yeah, just a little one.
When the moment came, he threw himself at the distracted Duchesne. He was joined in perfect unison by the other two. Liam watched in horror as the rear of the boat pitched downward at the worst possible time.
In one confused mass, all four of them tumbled over the edge.
5
Liam's first thought after popping out of the water after their big splash was how bad the water smelled. On a good day the Mississippi might smell like diesel fumes and dead fish, but today it smelled like diesel fuel, dead fish and, well, just death.
When they hit the water he was able to grab Grandma's top so when he popped out, she popped out as well.
Victoria was further away, but thrashing hard to push Duchesne away from Grandma. He broke away from her and attempted to make for the seawall. The problem for him, and for them all, was the current. It pushed them all back out into the main channel because of the swirling eddies along the debris-strewn shore. The seawall gave no purchase to someone swimming below, and in no time they all drifted in the main channel, a quarter mile from the end of the line.
Victoria made it to Liam and Grandma. She immediately took some of the load from him as Grandma was unable to swim on her own.
“I should tell you both,” she said as she spit out some nasty water, “I can't swim.”
“No, Grandma, you shouldn't have told us that.” He laughed, despite it all.
They were into the strong current twenty-five yards offshore. It drove them in the direction of the massive disaster wrapped around the gigantic catastrophe. They tried to paddle and swim toward shore, but with Grandma in tow they just couldn't break free of the main current. They were in the event horizon.
Victoria responded in a weak voice. “My God. Look!”
From their vantage point, the wreck became more imposing as they neared. There were well over fifty barges wedged into the side of the bridge; some of them canted dangerously as they bobbed up onto the debris. The tips
of others pointed up out of the water while the bulks of their hulls remained hidden beneath the waves. They watched as an open-topped 200-foot barge ran into the pile ahead of them. It came to rest nearly sideways, and listed toward the surface as it was absorbed by the massive frontal wave. The powerful current reached inside—it was empty—and simultaneously held it in place as it began to fill up.
No, not empty. Oh no.
As the runaway barge tipped further and further in their direction Liam could see into the hold. It contained a large number of bodies. He scanned other barges on the pile for signs they too were holding similar cargo. He assumed it was illegal to fill barges with dead people and send them downriver.
I'm going to blast those towns upstream when I write my book.
They were going to drift into the blockade. The only variable was where. Even that wasn't much of a question since they had very little ability to alter course.
All along the front edge of the debris field large pieces of driftwood smashed into heavier objects such as concrete or barges—and they broke apart with sickening cracks. Wooden and fiberglass boats shared a similar fate. The only things that seemed to survive the impacts were the barges themselves. Most went in front-to-back, which made swimming near them suicide. There was no possible way to climb on either end in the tumult. If they could approach from the side, they still didn't have a great chance, but it wasn't exactly impossible either.
“Guys, we have to swim hard for that sinking barge with all the bodies in it,” Liam shouted.
They didn't have time debate it. The women made no protests, and paddled with Liam in the direction he wanted to go. It was a tough swim, and it took them further out into the channel, but there were no similar pieces of safety between them and either shore.
He gave one cursory head spin searching for Duchesne. He hoped he'd drowned, but figured they'd not get that lucky. He did see rope guy running downriver along the shore. He wondered if he would try his luck out on the flotsam and jetsam to save his boss.
He thrashed his legs under the water, and drove the triad into the current heading directly for the sinking barge. He hoped their timing would be right to suck them directly into its hold, and they would have a little time to climb out before it tipped over or sank.
Risky. Very risky.
His mind fought against the illogical notion of heading for the grand disaster before them.
Please God, help me get Victoria to safety. Please God, help me to get Grandma to safety. And please God, if it's your will, help me find safe harbor as well.
The noise from the blockade increased as they approached. The cracks of wood. The groan of the metal hulls. The chaotic splashing of water and debris out front.
25 yards.
15 yards.
They were on the glide path he wanted, but he continued to kick as hard as his tired body allowed.
“Swim as hard as you can as far as you can into the barge. We need to get in and find a ladder before it capsizes.” Already the barge had a severe list. Liam hoped for a little luck, or a little help from God.
5 yards. They were in the spray of the leading waves.
The barge had filled most of the way with water and had settled down as the heavy load stabilized. It continued to fill, but they were able to get across the upriver lip of the barge's hold without too much trouble. The cargo sent panicked shivers down Liam's spine. Up close, the stiff dead were terrible.
Victoria screamed, “Oh God, no. No!”
If this was a normal sinking boat, Liam would be scared enough. Getting across the thirty feet of the hold as it filled with water would be a major challenge. But this barge was filled with dead bodies, and as it filled with water, it shifted and rearranged them. All of them seemed to have bullet holes in their heads adding to their grotesque appearance. They were once zombies...
“God almighty. Poor souls.” Marty wailed as she too succumbed to the horror. She recoiled as she touched them.
“Don’t stop. Just get through them,” Liam shouted with fear in his voice. He pulled Grandma across.
He had no choice. Without guns, knives, or spears the only weapon they could wield was speed. There were easily a thousand dead bodies floating in the eight feet of red-tinged water inside the barge hold. The darkness at the bottom, and the movement he imagined there, nearly caused him to “break and run” as they said in his computer game. He wanted more than anything to just swim ahead and leave his friends behind. Wanted more than anything to be out of this deathly sick water forever. It was completely irrational and was the last thing he would do at any other time. But now, he was ashamed he even thought it.
The middle of the barge wall did have a ladder leading out of the hold up to the narrow deck around the hull. But the strong currents flowing into and around the hold made getting there difficult and slow.
He felt his legs and lower body being pushed, pulled, and punched by whatever was below. Taken with the cracking sounds from crushed debris and the noise and spray of the filthy water, he found himself overwhelmed with stimuli. It took everything he had to reach the ladder, and it took every ounce of his being to let Victoria go first so she could help get Grandma up the ladder. Meanwhile, he left himself exposed to the lurking evil below the waves.
The barge started to tilt more severely. Victoria was at the top, but Grandma was still on the ladder. She was unable to lift her leg from rung to rung and hang on at the same time. Victoria had to come back down and lift her slowly and deliberately up each rung. It was slow going.
“You have to hurry. Pull her up!” he said with something approaching anger. Lower, he said, “Please.” He felt a lump in his throat as he couldn't shake the thought something was going to grab him from below. So many bodies, some of them almost had to be reanimated zombies. It was how it happened in the movies.
He gripped the ladder as the whole barge shifted. He stepped up a rung as Grandma started to move up. The water inside the hold met with a new influx of water from over the side, and the wave action shifted the horrible cargo, bringing corpses to the surface again and exposing him to the stench of the recently deceased. It was a powerful and disgusting miasma of rot and death.
And they are moving down there.
He was paralyzed with fear for several long moments as his imagination reveled in the drama. Finally, he checked on the women. He was shocked to see the ladder was empty. They had made it up and moved out of his sight on the top deck. He had to assume they were safely on firmer ground—well, as safe as anyone could be in the middle of the river on a great shipwreck wrapped around a highway bridge.
The barge continued to tip upward, and the water pulled him down as the boat shifted. The cargo hold was nearly topped off with water. Some was rushing back out. Would it sink by tipping straight up and down as he had seen with other barges? He didn't have time to wonder. It tipped back down to a shallow angle, and was held there by the rush of incoming water. Amidst the sloshing cadavers he turned around to try the ladder again. It wasn't as steep now though the boat was starting to shift downward once more. He'd have to hold on carefully to each rung so as to not slip off, and he'd have trouble getting over the lip at the top, but it wouldn't be impossible.
He had just found purchase on the rungs with his feet when something grabbed his leg and pulled.
The shock forced him to slip from the rung he'd been holding for support. As he dipped below the waves, he reminded himself to thank God.
You saved two out of three of us. Thank you.
He waited for the bite, too exhausted to fight it.
6
The expected bite never came. As he regained the surface, a living person used Liam's body to pull himself up and over to grab the ladder. In a moment of resignation he could only watch as Duchesne ascended right over him. He held the ladder and kicked at Liam to get him to float out into the dead bodies. An effort which worked. He went underwater as he slid backward through the frozen arms.
When Liam
came back up he saw Duchesne made it to the top of the ladder. Liam struggled to stay afloat; he pushed off the bodies as they shifted in the current.
Don't look at them.
He ignored the rotting faces and focused on Duchesne as he crested the top. He waited while the boat tried to settle again. The lower it got, the easier it would be to gain footing on the deck. This gave Liam the opportunity to catch up. He pulled himself through the bodies, grabbed the ladder, and hauled himself up. A few rungs was all it took to reach the man's lower pant leg.
Liam wrapped his arm around Duchesne's ankle and flung himself outward. Whatever Duchesne had been doing, he lost his grip and fell roughly into the pool of undead. Liam held on the whole way down. It wasn't a soft landing for either of them. Duchesne was beyond angry.
“Liam, you just signed your own death warrant.”
He had fallen more or less straight down, but the barge itself constantly shifted as it slid up and down on its perch on the front edge of the blockage. Duchesne and Liam and their dead friends sloshed around as if in a bathtub.
“All you do is kill people. Why can't you just let us go? We just want to be left alone.”
Liam let himself be pulled with the water away from the ladder, while Duchesne had pushed his way through the dead to be closer to it. Liam was willing to let him climb again because he didn't think he had the energy to stop him. He knew he couldn't win a physical altercation.
Duchesne drew up the first few rungs of the ladder and turned back to Liam. “You're just a little kid. You have no concept what it means to control the fate of billions so pardon me if I don't care about you or your opinion. I really wanted to keep the three of you together—see how valuable you are to HQ—but I think I've had enough of you and your girlfriend. All I need is your Grandma. You're going to die on this wreck.”
The whole barge shifted considerably as he digested the words. Duchesne held on to the ladder while he went sloshing twenty or thirty feet sideways. He tried to see out of the hold to get a better sense of the wider disaster, but he could only see the tops of the pylons of the nearby bridge.
Stop the Sirens: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 3 Page 28