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

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Stop the Sirens: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 3 Page 31

by Isherwood, E. E.


  Liam walked back a few steps to get in position to make his jump. His boat continued to drift.

  Holding Grandma tightly, he ran with purpose toward the edge. As the boat moved, it settled in the front. Liam kept his footing as the nose dipped—it allowed him to make the jump at a much lower altitude relative to the pavement. He was going much faster than he intended—falling as much as jumping.

  Hang on Grandma. This is going to be messy.

  Chapter 17: Looking Up

  Liam landed on firm ground and immediately fell forward. Grandma lost her grip and slid right over the top of him. But Victoria was there. She anticipated the glide path and put herself in position to catch Grandma, or at the very least absorb her fall.

  Liam looked up to see Grandma on top of Victoria, who was on her back. They were hugging. Still alive.

  Grandma blinked her eyes as if waking up. For many minutes he thought she had passed out on his back. He even allowed that he was carrying a dead body…

  But she made it. He helped them from the cobblestones.

  Grandma came out of her daze, and recovered her faculties quickly. “Lord, watch over us and protect us as we try to restore the Light to this world. And Lord, if it's your will, please look after my angel Aloysius, too. Amen.”

  Liam and Victoria responded in kind. Grandma's only complaint after all that had happened may have been a joke. “I think I broke some ribs.”

  Liam's shirtless upper body was covered in abrasions, scratches, and other filth after surviving the crossing. Some blood trickled off his head, down the side of his face. He could see blood on his knees; they were raw under his jeans.

  “You and I finally look like we're on the same adventure. You're almost as bruised and hurt as me!” Victoria giggled as she helped steady Grandma on her feet.

  “And Grandma. You've done more than both of us combined and you still look as clean as the day we met.”

  Grandma laughed at the obvious falsehood, but countered, “Oh, you two never take things seriously. I may not look it, but I'm beat, bushed, kaput. And my clothes—they need to be burned.”

  “We'll get cleaned up as soon as we can, guys. For now, we have to get as far away from here as possible.”

  Liam urged the two women to get completely clear of the pavement of the bridge. They all limped as they exited the last bit of the collapsed bridge deck and returned to the cobblestone of the river landing. They were below the partially collapsed highway that formed a ramp up to the solid roadway above. It was where Liam and Victoria started their downtown adventure, much earlier in the day.

  Victoria and Marty collapsed to the ground, stating they were content for the time being to simply be alive. Liam watched the amazing breakup. The last of the nearby barges slid out the ever-widening gap in the river blockage. A great portion of the middle section was gone, and most of the floating debris near shore was gone too. Portions of the highway were still wrapped around the near pier, but the disintegration of the blockage took nearly everything else away. The debris from upriver once again had a free and clear path to head south. Somewhere in that floating mess, heading downriver, was the man who destroyed the world.

  Don't let the door hit ya!

  Liam began to think about what came next, but was drawn back into the present. A helicopter made its way low from the north, veering in their direction as if they'd just been spotted.

  He almost couldn't say the words, he was so beat down. “Up up! We have trouble heading this way.”

  Victoria turned her head to see if Liam was serious, and when he pointed to the helicopter she slowly got up and helped pull Grandma off the ground. They trudged to the side of the ramp, where the debris of the fallen span provided some cover. Liam wanted to keep something solid between them and the helicopter.

  The pilot was very good. The copter came in low and tight next to the downed highway. The craft rotated so the rear cargo door faced them. As it slid open, Liam saw Hayes with a large pair of headphones and a mic. His voice called out from a loudspeaker under the helicopter, “Liam, thank you for helping me get rid of him. You've taken the heat off me so I can continue my research.”

  “Not again.” He had no energy for a fight, but knew he was once again going to be forced to surrender Grandma. It couldn't go on like this forever. He looked around for any kind of weapon. He might be able to use some rebar from the collapsed bridge, but against bullets it would be useless. They could run for it. They could swim for it. They could—

  “Liam, Victoria, you two have to run now. You've really done an unbelievable job of saving me out on that wreckage. You've spent every last ounce of energy to get me to this shore. But now there is no chance against guns. Once they land and come down here, it's all over. Now is the time to let me go—no matter what implications that may entail.”

  Liam could see it all going down. Grandma captured once again. He and Victoria would plan another caper to save her. It had a certain symmetry to it.

  Does our story just go on like this forever?

  Victoria spoke up. “I don't want to. But...” She looked at him expectantly. He knew she was right. There was a point when even the best men had to sound the retreat, and leave their wounded on the field of battle. But he didn't want it to be like this. Not when they were so close to victory.

  “Maybe we could make it to the Arch tunnel and hide there?”

  “Maybe we could get back on the wreckage of the dam and hide there?”

  “Maybe—”

  “No, Liam. You've done all you can do. Your jobs now are to protect each other.”

  He hated to admit she was right, but he knew how this would end if he didn't listen to her. They would either all die in futile battle, or all be taken—and Grandma would be killed in testing. He had to choose the only path where they all had some hope. Live to fight another day, and all that.

  He gave Grandma a long hug.

  “I'm so sorry, Grandma. I'll never stop looking for you.”

  “I know. I know. And I'll never stop praying for you two out here. Now go.”

  Victoria gave her a quick hug and left without saying anything. The tears spoke volumes.

  One last call from the underside of the highway, “Liam, you did great saving me. Never forget that.”

  He waved as the noise of the helicopter made it impossible to talk. It had floated closer.

  Hayes' voice blared out on the speakers. “You don't have to run. I'm not going to take Grandma. I don't need her. I have what I require from her already.”

  Frozen in his spot, Liam searched for a trap. There was always a “but” in these situations.

  When none were forthcoming he looked up at Hayes and tried to yell something to him.

  “I can't hear you. I'm sorry.” And, after a hesitation, “I'm sorry for everything.”

  Liam had an inspiration. He made a very dramatic impression of someone injecting a shot into his arm. Then he pointed to Grandma. “Did you inject her?” he shouted.

  The helicopter hung for a long time. Hayes keyed his mic, but didn't speak right away.

  “Liam, your grandma is very special. You have to keep her alive. Find somewhere safe. I wish I could help, but you are looking at the extent of my resources now. It's just me and my wife against the world. If we look for you again, it will be as friends. Deal?”

  Not knowing what else he could do, he gave Hayes a thumbs up sign. Better to have him go away than do anything more traditional like a shooting or a kidnapping.

  Jane piloted the copter north up the river, then she banked left and went under the Arch and into the city, to points unknown.

  “Good riddance!” Grandma's shout was surprisingly loud.

  “Amen, Grandma. I hope we never see them again.”

  “Me too. Me—”

  They both rushed to help as her head slumped to her chest.

  2

  “You did it, Marty. I knew you were a fighter.”

  “What did I do? I feel drained
. Empty.”

  “That's to be expected. You operated the computer. You affected things in the real world using just your mind. You reached out and touched someone using nothing but thought.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like an ad for a phone book.”

  Al chuckled. He stood with her next to the closed door to the computer room.

  “Well, take heart you are the only person who has figured it out as it relates to zombies, though many special people can sense this connection in each other. You've managed to weaponize it.” He stopped himself. “Oh, such an ugly word. How about, harness it?”

  “I forget everything you tell me once I leave here. Can you just explain it to me so I can understand what this place is, really. And do it so I'll remember it?”

  He laughed heartily. “Ah, Martinette, that's what I love about you. Always seeking the answers to the important questions.”

  He walked her out to the bench overlooking the dark ocean. The stars in the sky had returned to their former brightness. As before she was swept off her feet at the beauty and grandeur. “Please, sit down.”

  “I regret I can never reveal everything to you. I know you want answers. Trust me, I want to give them. But there are things even I'm not sure about.”

  He took a seat next to her, and spoke as they both looked out toward the green waters of the infinite sea. “We are in your mind. This place, all you see, is how your mind interprets the raw data.”

  “You said you were going to talk straight.”

  “I am talking straight. Listen, this place is both in your head and real. You've developed a link with this place, and the only reason you have is because you've been infected with the pathogen Hayes calls the Quantum Virus. But Marty, you've carried the Quantum Virus since birth. You all have.”

  “We've been infected? Who could do such a thing?”

  “My dear, you haven't been infected. It was a gift. A wonderful gift.” He paused for a long time.

  “A gift? From whom?”

  “Remember when I showed you the lights behind the planets?”

  “Of course.”

  “Would it surprise you if I told you Earth now has a light behind it? Would you be surprised if I said it was by your hand the light came on?”

  “Yes, I didn't know I was doing anything that magnificent. I mostly just rolled around in a wheelchair, rode in a bike trailer, or slept.”

  “Ah, Marty. Here's where you're wrong. You did much more than that. You drove your two young partners to do great things. You were there to inspire them. Advise them. Lead them to God, the Light, whatever you want to call the aura of goodness. But, they aren't the reasons the light was restored. That was all you.”

  He rubbed his hands in anticipation.

  “Can you guess what it was? What made you special among the millions of Doris's, Agnes's and Ezra's now perishing in the Zombie Apocalypse, as Liam likes to call it? Do you think it was your strength, or your speed, or the fact you once ran over your own daughter?”

  Marty winced at the painful memory, but Al was relentless. “Marty, none of that matters now. You established the link. When you walked into that computer room—that goofy 8088 computer—it was just a representation of what it really is. A link between your mind, and the minds of countless others. The Quantum Virus is very unusual in that it must...” He appeared to search for a word. “It must compile, for just over 100 earth-years. Only then can it start to interact directly with the mind of its host. Only then can that host begin to see the gift it was meant to see. A guidepost on the way to infinity. To God.”

  She froze at the word “God,” unable to formulate her reply. She felt the warmth of her Savior all around her, and she truly and absolutely believed He was sitting on the bench with her. If this was God's work, then she had the revelation she'd been seeking her whole life.

  “Or...” He paused for a few seconds.

  “Such a curious word. Or.” He stood from the bench and turned to look down at her. “Or this is all just in your head. A clever construction from the mind of a very clever woman as a way to process all the horrible things you've witnessed since Angie fell down those stairs two weeks ago.”

  “What? No.” She shook her head emphatically to make her point. “I had visions. I saw memories from Victoria and Liam. From Phil's wife. I couldn't have made that up. That's impossible!”

  She saw him smiling down at her. The light from the stars above was distracting. “My dear Marty. You're right of course, it is impossible. Or maybe you overheard Victoria on one of your nights together. You spend a lot of time awake when others are sleeping. What if you heard her dreaming and talking in her sleep about her terrible encounter with her fiance in that dark forest? Who's to say Liam didn't leave his very favorite book lying out one day, and who's to say you didn't leaf through and read a few pages? Perhaps you read about a little green coupe on a bridge? He carries one of his copies with him everywhere these days.”

  “No. This had to be divine. You said you were an angel.”

  “I said I was like an angel. I never claimed to be a biblical angel.”

  “But Phil. I spoke to his wife. Gave him a message.”

  “Ah yes. A true miracle.” He paused with drama once more.

  “Or...” A smile to her.

  “Is it possible you ran into someone at one of your weekly quilting groups up at the church? A certain grandmother who may have recently lost a granddaughter and a great-granddaughter? Maybe private words were shared? A photograph of the family was passed around. You remembered that innocent secret under high stress, and that helped you bond with Phil on that bridge in your darkest hour.”

  “Absolutely not! I would remember that.”

  “Would you? Is your memory that good? Have you forgotten nothing your whole life?”

  Marty looked down at her hands. Often when she came here, or when she left here, her skin would appear rejuvenated and refreshed. She believed she was getting healthier somehow; that Al was making her younger. Now, she saw the same hands and arms she had back in her flat before the sirens.

  “So none of this was real? I'm just an old worn out woman making up crazy scenes in my mind to help me cope?”

  “No, not at all. Give yourself some credit. You played out those scenes in your head as a way to cope, yes. But you did cope. In fact you used your imagination to strengthen yourself. You renewed your faith in God, you bolstered your faith in your great-grandson when he needed it most. Your beautiful mind created this place so you could contribute in a world where so many of your peers were tossed like trash. You came here so you could fight. Isn't that exactly what I—I mean the real Aloysius—would have wanted?”

  Her gaze fell to the ground just in front of the bench, content to accept what he was saying, but hating it nonetheless. She resigned herself to the notion she wasn't special. Al wasn't here. She had no miracle gifts to fight and survive in the zombie plague.

  A bright light flared above her. She looked up. An illuminating pulse was directly behind Al, falling from the stars above. Then his world began to dim, and Marty felt herself returning to hers. Everything disappeared except Al. He wore a happy smile.

  “Or...”

  3

  “Who do you think was driving that boat?”

  Liam sat with Victoria in the shade of the remaining jumble of wreckage while Grandma indulged in a nap. They thought she died by the way she slumped over, but she'd only exhausted herself. She'd been swimming, running, jumping, and falling today. She earned a rest.

  “I have no idea, but they sure arrived at the perfect time to take care of Duchesne for us.”

  “Do you think it was providence? The hand of God?”

  Victoria gazed out over the water while she thought of an answer. “If it was God, he had to have set everything in motion hours or days ahead of time. That barge had to have come from somewhere upstream. Someone had to fire it up. They would have had to gather up the proper amount of barges so it could break through. Someon
e had to fuel it. Someone had to drive it down the river—through all the other junk floating by. And they had to arrive at the exact second Duchesne was getting ready to shoot us.”

  Liam followed her train of thought. “And He would have had to work in the other direction too. He would have had to put you and me together at the perfect time. He would have had to keep us walking around, hiding and fighting zombies in the county, and bring us back to the city at precisely the time needed to get us in front of that boat. There were an infinite number of variables along the way. I have a renewed belief in the divine, but that's impossible.”

  Grandma surprised them. She was awake. “Not impossible. Just improbable. It was all improbable.”

  They helped her sit up while she continued. “This disaster has awakened something in me. Al is in my head; he speaks to me. He's shown me incredible things. He's shown me my own memories I had forgotten. I see memories of those closest to me.” She paused, thinking. “Painful memories.” She regrouped with more energy, “But if there's one thing I've come to appreciate through these weeks of—challenge—is that you two have been truly heroic. No matter if it was God, random chance, or some spaghetti monster floating in the sky, you two were responsible for getting me safely to this point. I honestly believe no one could have done it better.”

  A little book was in Grandma's hands. The travel Bible Liam had given to Victoria. She had given it to Grandma in turn. Now she handed it back to her. "I'm sorry dear, I couldn't keep it dry." They all laughed at the understatement of the year. "But it did bring me the comfort I needed during my stay."

  Victoria took it and bent over to hug her. "I'm just so glad to get you out of that horrible place."

 

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