Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  Still, she hesitated. “Al, you know I've been praying my whole life. That is what fortifies me against evil. Is this really necessary?”

  “You can pray if you choose. But God didn't hear the cries of this poor soul.” He was nodding casually to the inside of the truck. “How you respond to this girl's—situation—will define your relationship with her from this moment forward.”

  In a flash, Marty knew who was inside the truck. She'd heard the crying before.

  Al walked next to the back window, inviting Marty to join him there.

  She walked as if in a trance. She heard the crying, but the other sound was too incongruous to imagine if an infected person was feeding on another. It was laughter.

  “My dearest Martinette. Behold the final piece of your triad. You three are going to find the cure.”

  She looked inside the window. Al did something to illuminate the scene, or maybe it was her imagination. No way to tell in this place. But she could clearly see the two people struggling in the back seat.

  She was right. She already knew the girl.

  5

  “OH MY HEAVENS! OH MY! NO!”

  Marty's voice was not outstandingly loud anymore, but more and more often she awoke from sleep as if she had fallen off a cliff in a nightmare and woke up with a jarring SPLAT! Upstairs, Liam and Phil both went rigid with the loud yelling in the basement. Liam knew immediately who was making such a racket.

  He whispered to Phil, “Grandma had another nightmare. She's convinced her husband is talking to her in her dreams, but it seems more like she gets beat up.”

  “Well, she did talk to my wife and daughter—both dead—and she told me something else...” Phil paused, and Liam leaned in, willing Phil to reveal his secret. “She told me I had to help the trinity of dark angels. They were the only ones who could stop the sirens. Maybe your grandma is seeing those angels?”

  “She never mentioned any trinity. And the sirens did stop, didn't they? They stopped that first day.”

  “It makes no sense, Liam. I've been trying to figure it out since she told me. I really want to know what it means. How I can help. Who I can help. You know?”

  “Well, someone is scaring Grandma in her dreams. I'd like to get in there and give them a piece of my mind.”

  Phil was peeking outside. “Oh man. The sound has definitely caught the attention of our friends. Look at them moving this way. We should probably—”

  Muffled but terse discussion from the kitchen. They could hear what amounted to an argument in progress. It escalated quickly and then they heard Melissa practically yell. “NOOOOOO!”

  Gunshots went off. Very loud. Inside the house.

  “Stop shooting!” This time it was Victoria.

  Phil tapped Liam to go see what was happening. He said he needed to stay in the front.

  One of the dads from the previous night—the same guy who shot out the rear window—had once again rattled off some shots into the back yard. Liam's look must have contained a question because the man responded.

  “That zombie was almost at the back door again. I didn't want to take any chances.”

  Liam didn't feel he had the authority to tell him he may have just killed them all. Shouldn't that have been obvious to the guy?

  Melissa suffered no such doubts. “You probably just attracted every zombie from across the street. You should have just ducked down and let the zombie walk by.”

  “Who put you in charge, little lady?”

  Liam could see where this was going.

  Phil ran into the kitchen. “We have to get everyone downstairs. The zombies are coming.”

  “How many?” Liam was afraid of the coming answer. A movie quote echoed in his mind.

  “All of them.”

  Crap.

  It didn't take long before they were secure in the basement. The basement door on the main floor wasn't reinforced, but it was nondescript. It's not like it had a sign on it saying “fresh meat, this way!” Still, Liam couldn't help but feel they'd reached their last move on the chessboard. Once they were discovered, there was literally no way out of this basement for such a large group. There were some small windows, but it would take a long time to get all these people out through them. And then what of the zombies standing right there in the backyard? They were in real trouble, same as those people he saw days ago going down the spiral of the pit quarry. Once they reached the bottom, there was nowhere else to go.

  Looking around, Liam could see about a dozen or so children of varying ages. Thankfully no babies who might cry out and reveal them all. Some of the school-age children were silently crying, however. It couldn't be helped under such circumstances. He counted three sets of parents, plus Phil, Victoria, Mel, and Grandma. About twenty people against a horde. Was it even possible to resist such numbers?

  Minutes went by.

  Then ten.

  Then they started hearing thuds on the floor above.

  “They're coming in through the broken front windows. I'd bet anything.”

  Thuds continued. Then shuffling of feet across broken glass and the linoleum of the kitchen. The table against the rear door could be heard scraping the floor. It was being pushed inside by zombies coming in from the back yard. The entire floor was crawling with zombies; the floorboards were creaking above his head.

  For a long time, they waited, unable to do anything but listen to the noises above and cringe whenever they heard unnecessary noises from the kids.

  Just how good was their hearing anyway?

  Minutes continued ticking by.

  Then an hour. The sun was coming up, trickling through the small windows of the basement.

  Kids were getting antsy with the new day. They were unable to appreciate exactly what was happening above, or why so many playmates had to be quiet for so long.

  Another hour went by.

  Giggles from two young girls in the corner.

  A shush from a parent.

  More giggles.

  My god. We're doomed.

  Another shush.

  Then a clear pounding on the basement door.

  Everyone froze.

  More banging.

  Phil moved first, steadying his rifle in front of him, pointing up the steps. The others with guns did the same.

  Phil's instructions were hurried and very quiet. “We want to try to get as many as we can in the doorway. If we can stack them up in front of the entrance to the stairwell, we might be able to block it so none of them can fit through. It's our only hope.”

  More banging. More shuffling. More angry moans.

  Liam was considering backing them all into the secret room. It would put them out of reach of the windows, but it would give them a little more safety in a fallback room. Though it might be the last fallback they'd ever have...

  A new sound overtook them.

  From up above they heard something that sounded like a helicopter, but it was starting and stopping in odd sequences.

  Buzzzzzzz. Buzzz. Buzzzzzz.

  They listened some more, unable to pin it down.

  Buzzzzzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzz.

  It was getting closer.

  Buzz.

  Then silence for almost a full minute.

  Buzzzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzzzzz. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

  The door above was perforated by powerful gunfire.

  They all dove to the ground. A few ricochets sent stray rounds in odd directions inside the house, including some that blew big holes in the cross beams supporting the floor above their heads.

  The buzzing continued for another minute or so, along with the crunching of wood, plaster, glass, and the breakage of all the minutia of life now being destroyed on the main floor above.

  The noise was deafening, but Liam was also screaming. The rear windows of the basement were starting to drip with blood. The gun was ripping apart the zombies and sending them out the back of the house into the yard. Some were falling directly below the back of the house, smearing and s
plashing those windows with blood.

  The gun would sweep one side of the house, then stop. It would start up again on the other side of the house. The basement door was near the center of the house, so it was perforated on almost every pass. The final straw for the door happened when a zombie was pushed through the frame by the kinetic force of the bullets. It came tumbling down the stairs like a rag doll, and crumpled at the base of the steps.

  And then silence from the guns. Silence continued for seconds, then minutes. All the while, the children were screaming at the top of their lungs. Irreconcilable. Liam had stopped screaming at some point.

  Victoria was stacked on top of Grandma, who was on the floor against the back wall. They both seemed all right. They were stirring as the silence from the weapon above continued.

  He wiped away the tears from his face, and made his way to the two women. He was dismayed to see blood was dripping into the room from the ruined floor above them. The shaggy carpet was soaking in it. He was deathly afraid to look up for fear of being dripped on. He imagined he was in a zombie movie he'd seen, where a drop of infected blood fell into the eye of one of the heroes—ruining him. He wondered if that was his fate.

  “Don't look up! Don't get the blood on your face!”

  He didn't know if he could be heard over the screaming kids, or if it was necessary advice.

  It was a long time before things got quiet enough for Liam to be sure he was heard.

  Victoria managed to get to her feet. She was wiping her face with one hand and holding Grandma steady on her feet with the other. She looked at Liam as she asked the twenty-dollar question.

  “What. The. Hell. Was that?”

  6

  “That, my friends, was a high-powered machine gun. If I had to guess, I'd say there are Army units on your street, Liam.” Phil never mentioned experience with military gear, but Liam wasn't about to doubt him on something so obvious.

  A loudspeaker began booming. “This is Douglas Hayes of the CDC. Liam Peters! You and your grandma need to exit the house immediately. Bring nothing with you. Please leave your other friends inside. They will not be harmed.”

  “What do we do, Grandma?”

  Marty was already up and moving to the steps. “If they just cleared all those zombies, we have to get out of here while we can. Let's go before they hurt any of these good people.” Grandma turned to Phil. “Thank you for driving us here. Best of luck to you. Mel, you too. Good luck.”

  Liam looked at Phil. He nodded. “We'll run like hell as soon as we can. Don't worry.”

  He looked at Victoria, planning to say goodbye, but she had already found her place on Grandma's arm and was helping her up the steps.

  I guess that's that.

  “I'll go see what they want. You folks should lay low down here. I know this guy.”

  None of them made any move to go up the stairs. Only Melissa made as if she might try. In the end, she only wanted to say “good luck” to them. Liam gave her a smile and caught up with the women on the stairs.

  The door was pulverized and opened as much by falling outward as by its hinges. It was impossible to believe the whole floor had been stuffed with zombies moments before. The fury of the guns out front had turned the zombies into more or less a fine paste drilled into the walls, ceiling, and floor of Liam's house. Much of the larger remains had been pushed out the back side of the house and into the woods behind his dwelling. The amount of blood and...bits...was legion however, and Liam's stomach went into immediate critical mass. He saw a lot of lower legs wearing shoes. Some heads. Remnants of what the guns missed.

  Settle down stomach.

  The smell...

  By the time they reached the front of the house, both Liam and Victoria had stopped to deposit their stomachs. Grandma seemed unaffected.

  The front door was gone. They emerged from a large hole in the front facade of his house.

  A large military truck was parked in the middle of the street. Liam recognized it from videos of Iraq and Afghanistan—it was some kind of six-wheeled anti-mine vehicle used to carry troops. Instead of being painted the characteristic desert tan, it was painted in multiple greens and browns more in line with the foliage of this part of the world. It had a nasty-looking Gatling gun on the top.

  There were four Humvees parked nearby, each with a machine gun on top, pointing away from his place. They were sweeping the street for remaining zombies. The area around his house was clear now, but beyond the safety of that space, the infected were coming in from all directions.

  Hayes and two flanking escorts were coming up the front yard. Liam noted they were trying to avoid stepping in the mess they created when the Gatling sliced through the crowd of infected on the lawn and in a wide arc into the neighbors' yards.

  “Ahoy, Liam!” He appeared happy as a lark. As if a massacre of sorts did not just take place. He was dressed in Army fatigues that were a size too big for him. Liam thought it made him look ridiculous.

  “Hayes. How did you find us?” Liam tried not to sound as deflated as he felt.

  “I work for Big Brother, don't ya know? You were on a list.”

  “A terrorist list or something?”

  “Nope, something much more sinister. Your parents are on the list. Grandma is on the list. Probably your whole family.”

  Liam began to panic he really was on some kind of terrorist watch list. He'd killed enough of the infected in front of Hayes to qualify for some kind of special status. But the rest of his family?

  Hayes started to laugh. “It's called a phone book, Liam. Your parents are listed in that magical tome.”

  Liam inwardly groaned. He should have seen that coming.

  “I need you and Marty to come with me. I told you I could protect you and I must insist you let me do so.”

  “What about my friends? There are women and children down in my basement.”

  Hayes left his two escorts several paces behind him. He came right up to Liam and began speaking in a tone that sounded an awful lot like sincerity. “I'm sorry, Liam. I really am. But there just isn't enough space to transport everyone. My orders are to bring you and your grandma back.” He then looked around the yard as if satisfied. “I think we helped your friends out quite a bit though.” Pointing to a lone leg nearby, “We gave them a leg up, eh?” He laughed heartily at his joke.

  “As I said earlier, I appreciate the offer but we aren't going anywhere with you.”

  Marty became uncharacteristically agitated. “Liam, I really think you should listen to the man. He's offering safety.”

  “Grandma, you know we can't trust him.”

  Though he was standing right there, Hayes didn't seem offended.

  Victoria said, “I'm with Liam. We can't trust him and you shouldn't go with him.”

  “Really? I just roll up and kill a couple hundred zombies with my cool toys and you don't recognize the situation? I can understand these kids, but what about you?” He looked at Marty.

  “Liam, you and I should go with this man.” She tried pulling Liam along, but Liam was firm.

  “Grandma we can't!”

  Hayes was smiling up until that point.

  “You must come with me. Now. Look around, the zombies will be back.” He said it very close to them—waiting for a reply.

  Liam wondered if he could get Grandma back inside. Just kind of slide backward into the wreckage of the place. Maybe the folks downstairs could help? Then he thought about the fake police officer who tried to rob him. His mind drifted to thoughts of a guardian angel. Someone—or some thing—had saved them both that day, and they'd been very lucky this entire trip. Surely this injustice could not be tolerated by any guardian angel. So many thoughts, they became a jumble inflicting a paralysis on his decision-making.

  Hayes gave a disgusted snort, turned around, and walked back to his escort. Liam relaxed ever so slightly, thinking he was leaving. But Liam saw him say something to one of the guards, though he couldn't hear it. The escort w
as carrying a fancy military-style rifle with a big telescopic sight on top.

  That is a big friggin' gun.

  Without turning around, Hayes spoke in a very loud voice, “Last warning. Liam. Walk with me now or things are going to get ugly.”

  Grandma was trying to move. Victoria and he were holding her back. “Liam, please,” she was imploring him.

  He faltered. Unsure. But Victoria was strong. Holding her ground. Setting the example for him.

  “Hayes, you wouldn't dare do—” Victoria began.

  Hayes gave a nod.

  The soldier raised his weapon. The scope was huge, but he didn't look through it. No need for it at ten feet. He aimed. He pulled the trigger. The bang wasn't as loud as Liam expected. He wasn't sure why that was his first thought, but it was.

  His next thought was that he hadn't been shot.

  Neither had Grandma.

  That means...

  “You will either step forward and walk to my truck right now or I kill Liam too. I'd rather not so I don't have to waste one of my men supporting an old lady, but I will if it means we can move on to other business.”

  Several of the Humvee's machine guns were rattling in anger at the encroaching zombies.

  Liam had just enough time to look back and see Victoria lying face down inside the remains of the front room. The force of the bullet must have pushed her back even as it brought her down. Marty had grabbed his hand and pulled Liam forward. In the shock, he was unable to resist. He knew he wasn't supposed to resist.

  What just happened here?

  They were complying with Hayes' request. They were halfway down the desecrated front lawn before Liam's mind caught up with the confused rage in his heart.

  “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! YOU SHOT HER, YOU BASTARD!”

  “Ha! That's where you're wrong. You killed her, Liam. You've got to learn you either comply with me immediately, or people get hurt. I let you go at the roadblock because I didn't have my proper team with me. It was very rushed and I don't do rushed. That's how mistakes happen. But I don't like anyone telling me no. You saw that back when the police wouldn't let us across that bridge. I found my own way. I had a backup plan. I always do. I'm trying to save the world, so give me a little respect.”