Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  Maybe I'm passing on the lessons of those stories without realizing it?

  Victoria had joked about leading a group of survivors, but his age precluded that reality no matter how many books he'd read on the subject. He was content to let others lead because it took the burden of making mistakes and or causing deaths and made them someone else's problems. He'd almost lost Victoria in the Arch and that made him panic. He saw Jones die at the quarry—and that made him depressed just thinking about it again. He thought Grandma died on the bridge, and they were all going to follow her, until a last-minute rescue. Those were just in the past three days! How much stress would he have to endure leading a group in this cruel new world for years into the future? No, he'd resolved to contribute as best he could to any group he, Grandma, and Victoria might find, but leading just wasn't something he wanted to do.

  “Thank you. I wish I could say I was doing it on purpose, but I wasn't. I just think about what characters in the books I'd read had done and tried to learn their lessons—both good and bad. But I'm learning reality is much different than anything in a book.”

  “Well, you did pretty good in my book.”

  She gave him a broad smile—even though she'd cleaned herself up pretty well, she still carried the nasty bruises and black eyes from her fight with the looters—as she walked away with water for the people on the lawn. “You might consider freshening up. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror?”

  “Hey!”

  But she was already out the door. Looking down at himself, he saw he was covered in the same coal dust and road grime he'd seen on Victoria. His own jeans and t-shirt were pretty much ruined, just like her dress. Out on the road he'd not noticed the dirt, but in the spotless kitchen, his condition was amplified.

  Suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion, he took a moment at the kitchen counter. He put both hands on the counter top, as if steadying himself. What would his parents say to this motley foursome now occupying their house? He hadn't exactly recruited people to his group, more like they wandered in, but he felt in his heart they were good people—and he believed that would please his parents more than bringing home a random squad of soldiers.

  And what of Victoria?

  Other than a few awkward chaperoned trips to the mall with girls set up by his mom and her friends, Liam had never brought home a real girlfriend to be vetted. His time was spent with his guy-friends playing World of Undead Soldiers for the most part. The World of Girls just wasn't on his radar. The thought of how his parents would react to a new girlfriend had never crossed his mind. Conceptually he assumed they'd approve, but it still scared the crap out of him to even consider it.

  But Grandma likes her. That has to count for something.

  He picked up the water bottles and began to follow Victoria out onto the lawn. He resolved to keep building his little group with people of the highest quality. Men who would help defend the women, and women who could defend themselves. Doubt was plaguing him though. Could it be as simple as his video game missions? Men and women adventurers, each with strengths and weaknesses, all working and fighting together. Could he find a group of people all rowing in the same direction?

  Could anyone?

  4

  The group of people on the lawn had grown. After Victoria and Liam provided some water, they retreated to the living room of the house to provide overwatch for those outside. Phil and Grandma were still there. Phil was keeping watch out the big front window, using the curtains to shield his presence as best he could. This meant they were at the ready should any trouble flare up, but no one expected the people to keep flooding in.

  Phil broached the topic. “There are too many people out there. If they decide they want in this house, I don't think we can stop them.”

  “Should we let some of them inside?”

  Phil looked at Victoria as he considered. “I don't know. Once they're inside, we may never get them to leave. But if we don't invite them in, they may force their way inside anyway and push us out. I couldn't see what happened exactly because there are no lights out there, but a group of some kind did go into your neighbor's house across the street. Poole's house.”

  “He said he was going to let some of them in.”

  “They're in, all right. The question is whether he is a willing host or a captive to the whims of the crowd.”

  They discussed the problem, unable to come to a definitive conclusion. They noticed people were going into Liam's backyard and the woods beyond—sneaking around to do their business. But more than a few faces appeared in the rear windows of his house before going back to the front. It helped solidify the need for a plan.

  Marty summarized the issue. “We need more friends. Right now we're too small of a group to resist the will of the mass of people outside. We need allies.”

  Phil responded. “I hate to admit it, but she's right. Not because I don't want to listen to her,” he tipped his head toward her, “but because I didn't foresee this earlier. I had no idea there would be this many people. I still hate the idea of opening our doors to strangers, but I guess we have to take chances to avoid potential disasters.”

  “So how do we get the people we want to come inside, and leave the rest outside?” Victoria asked. “And if we have a house full of people, will it still be enough to resist all those still outside?”

  Victoria's questions got Liam thinking. They had made the effort to befriend the people outside by giving them something to drink, but he had to admit they were approaching this crowd in the same way Mark said he approached the crowd on the highway when he first saw them. Anything to keep them moving down the line. But what if this was the end of the line? Were these locusts waiting to destroy everything in front of them, or were they human beings to be cared for? Maybe a mixture of both?

  Victoria answered her own question.

  “I have an idea. I'm going to talk to Mel again.”

  Phil gave an audible groan but otherwise said nothing.

  “OK then. Liam, will you come with me? I need to go out through the garage.”

  Together they were able to lift the double garage door. His mom's minivan was gone, but there was a small four-door sedan in one space. Phil's SUV was in the other. When the door was open, Victoria softly called for Melissa. She was conspicuous in the middle of the lawn where she'd sat down earlier. She got up and moved purposefully to Victoria standing at the garage threshold.

  “Hello again.” Victoria tried to be polite.

  “Hi.”

  “We need your help. We have a big problem.”

  “I'm listening.”

  Victoria had only just begun her studies in her nursing program, but one of the most basic concepts was triage. When faced with a large number of sick or injured, you had to take care of those who could be saved, and let some of the others go. She explained to Mel they needed to find people in the crowd who could be counted on to protect the house in the event problems started happening on the street.

  “I know this seems silly to ask, but we're worried there are too many people coming up this street. We don't want to lose the house. We need some people we can trust to help hold it in case things get—” She left it hanging, but the implications were understood.

  “Why should I care about your house? Tomorrow I'll be moving on. Right? That's what you said.”

  Victoria and Liam stood there looking at each other, unable to voice a suitable explanation.

  “Because the world falls apart if we don't take care of each other.”

  It was Grandma. She was standing inside the house, but talking out the open door into the garage. She was steadying herself by holding onto the doorframe.

  Mel walked into the garage to get a better look. She used a small flashlight to illuminate the entryway.

  “My name is Marty, but everyone calls me Grandma. Pleased to meet you.”

  Mel was reticent to respond for a long while. “I'm sorry. You remind me of my own grandma. She passed away a few years ago. No
offense to you or her, but I'm glad she isn't around to suffer through this.”

  “Oh, you'd be surprised what we old people can survive. But sorry for your loss.” She followed quickly with, “Will you help my grandson protect our home?”

  “Why me? I want to know why you picked me out of all those people on your lawn.”

  Grandma indicated it was Victoria's choice.

  Victoria explained how she was attacked by the looters as she ascended the Arch stairwell to save Grandma and Liam, ending her story with how they rearranged her face and undoubtedly had further plans. Liam had the foresight to tell the police to try to help rescue her, even as he was rescuing the police officers trapped in the base of the Arch. She said she empathized with Melissa's story and felt compelled to help her. “You seemed like a survivor. And you remind me of what could have easily happened to me. I hope I'm as strong as you when I get older.”

  Liam didn't know if he would help the situation, but he felt he had to say something. “Plus you showed concern for those people when we first met you. You were right to be skeptical of people you'd just met. There are plenty of wolves in sheep's clothing out there.” He thought of his own journey out of the city. How many times had he been shot at? A week ago, weren't those people law-abiding citizens, content to watch football on the weekend or have BBQ's in their backyards? How quickly the world can go to crap, and good people go bad.

  Assuming they were ever good.

  Looking at Mel anew, he could see parallels with Victoria. They were both fighters. Stubborn. Driven. Mel was just a couple decades older. Would that be Victoria someday?

  Mel surprised them all by walking over to Marty, and then shaking her hand right there in the door. “My name is Melissa Perkins. Pleased to meet you, Marty. I'll do my best to protect your home.”

  Melissa was a take-charge kind of gal. She asked if she could vet the survivors out front and bring in those she felt had the greatest chance of contributing. No one objected, though Liam wondered what Phil would say had he been there.

  She was off. For better or worse, Mel was probationary member of Team Liam. He joked internally about the name, especially since he didn't want to lead it. But he could at least recognize when potential members entered their orbit. He knew it was critical only the “best and brightest” join up with his group. So many books he'd read showed there was almost nothing more important than the quality of people brought in. But real life was always more delicate than a book. That didn't change the result one bit though. Either his group would grow with people who would help, or the group would collapse under the dead weight of useless people. And always the question of leadership. As groups grow, someone has to be in charge.

  Liam had no idea who was leading his group.

  5

  As with so many other plans set in motion during this crazy time, things went pear-shaped almost immediately. Mel was able to get a few people into the garage, notably parents with children, as she explained they'd be the most likely to defend their ground to the death. She gathered a few older men who were carrying firearms. She explained how she talked to each one to ensure they'd be team players. The few she gathered were anxious to move on to find loved ones, so she felt they'd likely defend the house tonight, but would be on their way tomorrow. She was really thinking ahead.

  However, flames began pouring out of Mr. Poole's garage across the street—lighting up the entire area in the process. A gaggle of men and women began a hasty egress from the main part of his house, and stood around gawking at the conflagration from the front yard.

  Several minutes later, Poole was knocking on the back door. Once in the kitchen, Liam, Marty, and Victoria listened to his story. Phil remained in the front room, though he could hear from there.

  “Ehhhh, those bastards thought they could take over my house! I showed them.”

  He took a seat at the kitchen table, looking dreamy and distant. “I let them in, thinking I was doing them a favor. Little did I know, they were a club of some kind—all bad fellas—and they just kept coming and coming. Soon there was no room for me, and they were stomping all around the house tearing things up. They got into poor Ginny's keepsakes and I couldn't take it no more. I asked them to leave, but all they did was toss me out into the garage—laughing.”

  He looked around the room, seeming to come to. “You remember our discussion earlier? I told you I tried to kill myself up on the roadblock. Well, I tried again tonight. I lit that fire in my own garage, and I intended to burn the place and all those people with it...but I heard them standing in the front yard and knew they'd gotten out. I guess I didn't think it through. Well, I wasn't about to die if they were just gonna laugh at the whole thing. I walked out the back door of the garage and snuck over here.”

  Liam was struck by how crazy this man seemed. It wasn't just the suicide attempts, but his demeanor. Inviting strangers into his house. The way he talked about it. He did just lose his wife, so maybe that broke something in the man?

  “I had lots of gasoline for my mowers in that garage. It will help burn the house to the ground.”

  From the front room, Liam thought he heard a groan from Phil.

  No one knew what to say. Liam was tempted to say a sarcastic “good job, buddy,” but he knew the men in that house wouldn't be gawking for very long. Mr. Poole had just made their own lives a lot more complicated. Plus, if they knew Mr. Poole was in this house—it could make things very difficult for them.

  Grandma finally broke the uncomfortable silence, but she said something that came as a complete surprise to Liam. “Mr. Poole, I'm very sorry for your loss. But you have to leave our house this instant.”

  Liam was floored. Victoria's mouth was agape. Only Mr. Poole seemed unsurprised. He sat there for a minute, then looked up as if peering at the clock on the wall. In the low light, it was very hard to tell. Liam caught a glimpse of Phil in the hallway, past the clock. From where he was sitting, only he and Poole could see Phil. In the shadows, Liam saw he was aiming a rifle into the kitchen—at Poole.

  Is he going to try to suicide in my kitchen?

  Poole, getting the message, got up and retreated out the back door. His final words were aimed at Liam as he stood on the threshold, “I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. Good luck finding your parents. You won't see me again.”

  The group let out a collective breath, though Liam's was a bit heavier since he knew what Phil had done. The girls expressed relief at getting the trouble out of their house.

  Phil had returned to the front window without saying a word.

  The fire across the street was so large it was throwing light into Liam's house. Liam thought it was a pretty light, if you ignored all the memories and resources going up in smoke. If the world really was ending, most of the things now aflame would be irreplaceable. A few minutes passed when Mel ran in through the garage entry.

  “Hey guys. We have trouble out here!” She was pushing a gaggle of children inside.

  Phil, at the front window, underscored the urgency, “Oh crap! Those guys are armed!”

  The men forced out of the burning house were looking for a new place to stay. They must have found Liam's house the next-easiest target. They were grouped together, maybe twenty burly motorcycle-gang-ish guys with weapons out, all moving up the fifty-foot driveway in the direction of Liam's open garage.

  Thank you for screwing us, Mr. Poole!

  Chapter 6: Checkmate

  Liam and Victoria moved past the children already inside, and went to the door of the garage to see what was happening. Both had their pistols in hand, pointing them safely at the ground.

  When Liam looked into the garage, he was just in time to see Mr. Poole throw himself on the crowd of angry men. He moved silently from the darkness of the space next to the garage and was on the front man before he had a chance to raise his weapon. Poole had a stout wooden-handled shovel which he was able to swing hard into the face of that man. “Serves you bastards right for stealing my house
!” It was the last thing he ever said.

  As Liam stood there in disbelief, he heard Mel inside the garage yelling too.

  “Fire!”

  Liam was blown away by the concussion in the confined space. Several rifles cracked from the dark spaces at the deepest part of his garage, from the back of Phil's truck, and even underneath his dad's car—he didn't notice the men and women hiding until they revealed themselves with gunfire. The dark garage became a lightning storm of flashes as more and more shots were fired. It exposed their positions, but it must have been fearful to the men out on the open ground only a handful of yards down the driveway.

  After a few moments, more cracks were coming from the front yard and from inside the house. Phil's rifle was adding to the cacophony. Liam could see innocent bystanders scrambling away from the erupting gunfire. He hoped no innocents would get hit in the crossfire.

  The men on the driveway were surprisingly agile in reacting to the fluid situation. The guns in the garage made short work of several of the men in the front of the group, but those in the back began running to their left, taking them out of the field of fire of the shooters inside the garage. It still left them exposed to the guns in the front yard—Liam had no idea who was shooting from there—and Phil had the best view of all. The light from Mr. Poole's house helped keep the men lit even as they tried to shoot back.

  An explosion of wood in the doorframe next to Liam's head made him realize he'd just been standing there gaping at the action. He turned and saw Victoria was similarly mesmerized. He pulled her back into the house.

  It wasn't long before the gunfire died down. Soon it was gone completely. Liam was nearly deaf and was choking on the smell of gunpowder, but he could hear cries of the injured men out front, as well as very loud calls of surrender.

  Phil, from inside the house, yelled, “Everyone stay put on my team! You, out on the driveway, put your hands up and walk into the light!”

  Liam grabbed Victoria's hand and pulled her into the front room to be with Phil and Grandma. She was lying on the floor, but gave both kids the thumbs up sign. He wanted to help her but needed to see what was happening out in his yard. He went to the front window where Phil was still stationed. The entire window had been broken out. In fact, all the windows in the front room had been broken out; Liam realized bullets had been coming this direction too.