Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

“I've spent the rest of today walking home on the interstate. I've been asking myself whether I wanted to live the whole time. I thought I could just walk into a ditch, lay down, and wait to die. Some people were already doing that, especially people my age. It was so depressing. They looked so pathetic. In the end, I understood Ginny wouldn't want me to die that way. I struggled down the highway, and just when I thought I was going to die anyway of exhaustion, I was getting water from a bucket dropped from an overpass. That helped me get through the last miles to make it home. I wanted to talk to your dad to see how he was faring. He always struck me as a guy with a plan.”

  Yes, he struck me that way too.

  “I guess you all should know the refugees are just outside the subdivision now. They're spreading out on every side road they can find. Some followed me in. Probably trying to find shelter for the night. I'd expect they'll be thick on our street before nightfall.”

  “After spending the whole day with them, I might let a few stay with me tonight. I really don't think I should be alone.”

  Liam didn't know what to say. Losing his wife must have been traumatic, but Liam couldn't think of any scenario where he'd invite random people to stay in his house overnight.

  Does that make me a bad person?

  After a few minutes of small talk, Mr. Poole stepped back out the front door to head home. He refused an offer from Phil to stay with them. Liam was glad, but felt guilty for the feeling. He looked down the street in the direction of the main road, disappointed to see the first refugees were entering the subdivision and had already begun knocking on doors.

  Liam watched Mr. Poole walk away and found himself intensely disliking the man. He knew he was being unfair. Poole himself said he was leading a procession of refugees—and now they were walking up this street. Liam felt he deserved a break after reaching his own home.

  It's just not fair.

  Chapter 5: Melissa

  The sun was getting ready to tuck in for the night, but Liam's group was busy. Grandma had been able to catch a nap, as had Victoria. Liam felt like a zombie; he hadn't gotten any quality sleep since he was inside the Arch. There was no time now. Refugees had been trickling up the street for a couple hours, but the flow had become steady as dusk approached.

  They were going to hunker down in the house and ride out the wave of refugees. The main dilemma was whether to interact with them or lay low and only get involved if the situation called for it. Mr. Poole had said he wanted to be with them directly, so they knew the house across the street would have refugees inside.

  “It would be dangerous to invite people into the house; even people we knew were harmless. Once it's known we are a safe harbor for these people, it will never let up until we are overrun.”

  Liam wasn't about to argue with Phil and his years of experience dealing with the public, but he had a hard time wrapping his arms around the notion they couldn't help anyone. After all, they'd seen Mark help people up on the bridge a few hours earlier. “Can't we help a few of them like Mark up on that bridge? It seems un-neighborly to ignore them.”

  “The difference is that Mark was helping them so they'd continue down the highway. Because there weren't many options for the crowd, it worked out well for Mark. He said he was doing it for all the right reasons, and I respect his efforts, but the net effect is that he pushed a few more people into this neighborhood rather than his own. Now these folks are at the end of the line for the day. They've been out in the open and running. They've finally reached relative peace and quiet. There is no way to encourage them to keep moving. Amongst all those sheep you see, there are wolves. Those wolves burned Arnold to the ground. Those wolves are hungry. I'd bet my pension they are out there. We have to be ready to meet them.”

  Victoria was probably the least likely to want to interact with dangerous people, after her close call with two of them back in the Arch, but even she seemed unwilling to completely turn her back on the families and kids now walking up their street. “Can't we help a few of them—maybe out on the grass so they don't have to come inside—so we can show the rest of the refugees that we're good people? It seems like that would be better than constantly slamming our door on them.”

  And that was the crux of the problem. It all came down to appearances. Should the group present a house that appeared antagonistic to the desperate people walking by, or should they show a softer side, appearing friendly to them. Phil was unwilling to interact with the refugees at all. Liam and Victoria indicated they wanted to at least acknowledge them so as to be seen as friendly.

  That left Grandma. “Phil, I trust your judgment. I really do. But I've been among those people for several days. If I was walking—or being dragged—up this street after a long journey on a dangerous highway, I think even I would be angry at any house that purposely ignored our plight. Won't you reconsider? I really think we should be unanimous in whatever we do here tonight.”

  Phil looked outside for a long moment. Weighing the options.

  “You guys aren't going to let me say no on this, are you? Look, I hear what you're saying. I wasn't out among those people so I'm probably not the best person to judge them. However, I'm a safety guy. Can we agree on helping them without allowing them to come inside the house? Once they're inside, we may never be able to get them out again.”

  Phil paused for a long time again, maybe wondering if anyone would argue with his request. When no one did, he offered, “So what do you guys want to do?”

  Liam wasn't ashamed to say it; Mark from the bridge had rubbed off on him. “Why don't we provide a safe patch of grass and some clean water for them? Surely we can spare water to help them out? Mom and Dad filled our bathtubs with water before they left. They were really thinking ahead—and planning for a long outage.”

  Everything came together quickly once they had the framework sketched out. They were unified in their plan of trying to help the refugees out in the front yard—outside the house—by providing water and a place to lay down. Phil suggested they make it clear they would also provide security for those folks to further reinforce the notion Liam's group was “the good guys.” They all agreed the plan made the most sense given the circumstances.

  “I think even my dad would like this plan.”

  The final piece depended on finding the right kind of refugees. It reminded Liam of his own selection process days ago where he scanned the crowd at the Arch to find the least intimidating people so he could get Grandma under a shade tree. He selected a tree with a couple families and one harmless looking sleeping woman on the ground. That young woman turned out to be Victoria.

  I chose pretty well.

  He was beginning to believe reading all those zombie books had given him an edge in decision making under the stresses of the Zombie Apocalypse.

  2

  It wasn't quite dark, but the shadows were long on the street and it was getting hard to see the characters walking their way. They decided they had to make a decision soon or they'd have trouble determining good from bad.

  “Right there! Those folks walking with those kids.” Liam pointed to a group of about twenty moving together.

  Phil looked out the front window, then he and Liam walked out the front door and across the grass of the front yard. Liam noticed refugees were sitting in many yards already. They were staying close to the street, as if unwilling to impose on the owners while simultaneously staking out the patch of ground they needed to survive the night. Liam's front yard had no trees, so it was one of the only yards not occupied. They were about to change that.

  Phil did the talking. He stayed in the yard so as to give them some space from the people in the street. “Excuse me. Would you folks like a place to rest for the night? We have a safe yard here.”

  The small group of people directly in front of Phil stopped, and a pretty woman with expensive hiking boots and large backpack seemed to speak for them all. He noticed the woman had a small rifle tucked inconspicuously behind her back.

 
“What do we need protection from? Rapists like you two?”

  Liam mentally slapped his forehead.

  I look like a rapist?

  Phil, probably used to such charming banter from the public while on patrol, was nonplussed. He looked at the others in the group as he addressed them. “It's up to you guys. My friends and I live in this house and we're willing to provide you guys a place to crash for the night. On the lawn. We can give you some clean water and we'll defend you as best we can.”

  “Why can't we come inside? Why are you going to make us lay out on the grass, exposed to everything?”

  Phil still wasn't letting her get to him. “It's your call. We're going back inside. You are welcome to our front yard. If not, there are plenty behind you and we'll invite them.”

  Phil motioned to Liam and they turned around to walk back in the house. Liam expected the group to call them back but no one made a peep. They were inside the house before Phil spoke. “It'll be fine. Even if that woman doesn't plop down, the others were eying our yard with longing eyes. They'll override her if she's their leader.”

  Liam was less sure. He peeked through the curtains to see what would happen. They were already sprawled on the grass of the yard. “Wow, that was fast. It looks like you were right. They're already in our yard. Except the woman. She's standing in the middle of the street, looking lost.”

  “I pantsed her pretty hard; she was being unreasonable. She actually thought we were going to rape her.”

  Liam stood watching the woman for several minutes. Several other refugees had walked by her in the street, but she didn't drift off with them.

  “She still isn't doing anything.”

  Victoria moved into the room and looked out the window too. She had ditched her cocktail dress and was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tank top. He knew they were his mom's clothes but was surprised they fit. He was about to ask her where she'd gotten them, but she walked away just as quickly as she'd arrived.

  Phil still wasn't cutting the woman on the street any slack. “She's probably crying because she lost her group. Serves her right.”

  Liam watched for several more minutes, and tried to get a better look at the people sitting in his front yard. There were several older children—pre-teens—and two couples who looked like parents. There were a few older men and women, maybe in their fifties. None of them looked prepared to be out hiking. None save the woman.

  He focused his attention back on her and saw she was talking to Victoria.

  What the hell?

  Liam looked around the room. “Victoria is out there.”

  Phil returned his attention to the window. “What's she doing?”

  Grandma was sitting on the sofa listening to everything happening. “Liam, you should go out to her.”

  Liam looked at Phil, who was peering out the window. “I guess it would be better than me going out. I'll cover you in case anything happens.”

  He was out the front door in moments, and moved fast across the yard, avoiding the people now encamped there. He felt the pistol against his hip, aware he may need it but wondering if he could pull it in such a pathetic crowd.

  Liam couldn't hear what they were talking about as he walked up, but he got an earful as he found Victoria's side. “Let me guess. This is your boyfriend? You both look like you're thirteen. How are you in charge?”

  “In charge? I'm not—”

  Before Liam could get defensive, Victoria put her finger on her lips, indicating he should be silent.

  “This is my good friend Liam. He found me the day after the sirens sleeping under a tree down by the Arch. I was wearing a cocktail dress and he never touched me. He and his grandma helped me get out of the city. I'd be dead without them, several times over. Phil was the guy who talked to you earlier. He helped us get over a bridge and out of the city. We went to his house to get some weapons and ammo. He had plenty of opportunity to do us harm, but he never did. In fact, he lost his house to arsonists as he helped rescue us. These are good people.”

  “As I told you. I don't trust anyone. Maybe you guys don't realize it, but the world is full of bad people now. Maybe all of them. I worked at a shoe store in Arnold. When the sirens went off, everyone raced for home, but I figured I'd stay at the store because it was next to a large supermarket and I'd have the place to myself. Much safer than my apartment complex with all those rednecks. I purchased a lot of food and gear and tucked it away in my store, content I could survive there a long time. My manager showed up the next day and decided to hole up with me. I couldn't tell him to get lost, but I should have realized right away where things would go. It wasn't even a day before he was putting moves on me—eventually overpowering me...”

  She looked around for a few moments. “I think he had dreams of being a big shot in the chaos. He thought I'd actually be grateful to end up with him. It didn't work out like he hoped.”

  The implication was clear to Liam. Victoria merely nodded.

  “I pulled him out the back door and left him in the alley like so much trash. He had this rifle and backpack, so I added them to my stockpile. For about ten minutes, I felt I was back on easy street. It wasn't long before angry refugees started showing up at the strip mall—further ruining it for me. They smashed my windows and stormed the store, taking everything of value. Fortunately, I saw what was happening and grabbed the rifle and backpack and blended in with the looters, even as I ransacked my own store. There was no hope of stopping them.”

  “I fell in with them as they moved through the town, and eventually found my way onto the highway where an even larger group was already walking. I can't tell you how many times horrible men came up to me with a malicious look in their eyes. I ran ahead in the crowd. A couple times I had to threaten them with my rifle—but that's been less and less effective. Now I just have bloody blisters in these piss-pour boots to show for my efforts. I'm unwilling to risk ever putting myself into that situation again.”

  Victoria stood looking at the woman for some time. “My name is Victoria. The only one you haven't met is Liam's grandma. She's a 104-year-old ball of energy. What's your name?”

  The woman was probably in her thirties or early forties. Fairly tall for a woman, and shapely. By almost any definition she was physically pretty. She had her long blonde hair in a tight pony tail. In addition to her boots, she was wearing khaki shorts and a too-large denim button-down short-sleeve shirt. Liam's first impression was “soccer mom.” Liam could understand why she'd be a target to unsavory characters.

  The woman thought on it for a short while. She was looking back and forth at Liam and Victoria, then the house and the people lying on the grass. Her last look was up and down the street at the many people wandering around.

  “My name is Melissa, but you can call me Mel. I still don't trust you,” then, with less hostility than anything she'd said so far, “maybe I'll never trust anyone again—but I'll accept your hospitality for the night. Thanks, I guess.”

  “You're welcome.” Victoria said that as she grabbed Liam's arm to move him back to the house.

  When they were well away from Mel, she whispered to Liam. “I couldn't let her walk away without trying to help. I'm not sure why, but it just felt like the right thing to do. Like I was helping myself.”

  “You did great. Next time, just let me know what you are doing before you run out alone. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Deal. That was pretty dumb of me.”

  No harm done. This time.

  3

  The sun was nearly down. Liam and Victoria came inside the house and made for the kitchen to round up some water. Grandma and Phil were still in the front room.

  “The new clothes look good on you. I take it those are my mom's?”

  “Yes, I hope she doesn't mind, but I needed to get out of that filthy dress or I was going to die. I ran a brush through my hair, but it didn't help much. After I woke up from my nap, I was nosing around in your parents’ room, hoping I could fi
nd some of your mom's clothes and praying they would fit me. When it looked like we were in for more trouble tonight, I decided to go ahead and change clothes. The only thing left is to burn my dress. I never want to touch that thing again!”

  Liam would never forget that dress, as it was what attracted his attention to her in the massive crowd at the Arch, but he had to admit after days of hard wear, it had gotten quite the beating. He also lamented there may never be an opportunity for women to wear dresses like that again.

  At least not voluntarily.

  That shook him to his core. He thought of Melissa and how quickly things had deteriorated for her. He took a fresh look at Victoria and knew she would undoubtedly catch the same eyes that had been after Mel. Many of the end-of-the-world books he'd read painted a hard life for women, though he never truly appreciated why until now. Slavers. Religious nuts. Men who want to rebuild the world with their babies. He knew he would need to be vigilant in protecting his female friends. They all would.

  “I don't want to scare you, but Mel's story has me worried about you. You know—because you are pretty and stuff.” Liam tried not to sound like a shy schoolboy when he said it, but knew he'd failed.

  “Thank you, Liam. Her story scared me too. But I have something she didn't have, which helps me sleep at night—friends. She plays tough and all that, but she has to know how futile it is to trust absolutely no one. We all need friends. People we can count on to watch our back and stand by our side when things go to pot. That's a lesson you taught me by the way.”

  Ha! Liam had read enough stories to know the only way to survive the Zombie Apocalypse was to stick together in strong groups. It took him a while to realize he had done exactly that over the past several days, though he felt his core group consisting of himself and his 104-year-old guardian would be laughed out of any of the great zombie stories. Somehow they did though, and they picked up Victoria, several St. Louis city police officers, and even a few “gang bangers” as they all joined Liam's group while escaping the city. Or he joined theirs. It didn't really matter which.