“Yeah, I know how you feel. We all have that look in our eyes. Like we're lost. I know I did for all those days sitting inside our house waiting for things to improve. Of course, they only got worse. Some of our neighbors left early in the plague, but most stuck it out until the end. We fought off looters, zombies, and even a huge pack of wild dogs. But in the end, it was the stench that drove us to abandon our house. Do you know what dead bodies smell like? Our street was covered with them. The smell sticks to you. Reminds you constantly not to forget it. Nothing would block it either. My mom tried everything. We packed up what we could and drove our car as far as we were able. That turned out to be about 100 yards. Once we got out of our neighborhood, we realized this was far bigger and worse than we imagined sitting inside the safety of our home. We almost turned around, but the smell was with us even then. So we got out and walked, trying to get to this place.”
“How did you do it? What route did you take? I need to get Grandma to our house after we leave here.”
“Ahh, that's the thing. It was mostly at night. Mom and Dad both had guns. Several times we stumbled on zombies doing their thing...shot them of course. It took us a whole night to get here. We don't live far. I guess we just got lucky.”
“Sounds like your dad knew what he was doing.”
“If you say so. You can ask him why Grandma and Grandpa couldn't come with us.”
Liam was afraid to ask, as he had just left a group of grandmas and grandpas...
“You mean he wouldn't let them come?”
“They said it was their decision, but I know he talked to them. He never liked them.”
Liam had sympathy. There were plenty of people he would like to leave behind if he ever got the chance. His algebra teacher. That asshat, Jeff Tuttle, who gave him grief in study hall. He had a list from his various track teams too. But when the carnage was absolute and unforgiving, Liam didn't think he had it in him to turn anyone away to their deaths. He just didn't think he would be able to make that call.
What if it would save someone I loved?
He resolved to try to be strong if that situation ever came up. So far, he'd avoided any complicated life-or-death choices. For a moment, he had forgotten many of the choices he'd made since leaving Grandma's house nearly a week ago. So many of those choices were probably life or death, though they may not have seemed like it at the time. Certainly Victoria was dead because of decisions he'd made.
Neither of the boys was particularly happy, but Drew seemed to be a glass-half-full sort of kid. He raised both their spirits by admitting, “With Grandma and Grandpa on their own, I figured it would only be right to help you with your grandma. At least someone of their generation made it here to safety.”
Safety.
Liam didn't think that word meant what it used to.
5
Liam and Drew were chatting happily within eyesight of Marty. They realized they both played the same video game, so they had a lot of things to discuss about the adventures they shared from inside that fictional universe. It helped distract them from their own seemingly fictional woes.
They didn't see a uniformed Scout leader walk up to the boat and extend his middle three fingers, which is a Scout sign to “shut the hell up.” The two boys also failed to notice everyone else had dropped to silence while they continued talk and laugh. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the man watching them with his arm over his head.
Red-faced, they turned to give him their full attention. The leader was tall with a solid build. His short black beard and Scout regalia gave him the appearance of the consummate outdoorsman. His powerful voice was perfect for the outdoor setting.
“Hello, ladies and gents. Welcome to Camp Hope. Yes, we've renamed this place for the duration of this event. I hope you'll find it appropriate for what we've got going on here. Oh yeah, my name is Troop Leader Lee. Like the general.”
A few snickers.
“You can call me Mr. Lee. My role is to introduce you to this place and help you find a place to stay. I'll assume many of you have camping equipment and supplies. Raise your hands if you don't have a tent or any supplies.”
Several hands went up, maybe a third of the group, including Liam's.
“We've noticed fewer and fewer people are making it here with supplies. Don't worry. We know things are rough on the outside, so just be thankful you made it here in one piece.” Lee went through some checklists relating to the area, much of which was important to Boy Scouts in general—preparedness, sanitation, security, hygiene, hydration, and calorie counts. Liam was interested in all of them, but the last was foremost on his mind. He raised his hand.
He was soon called on by Lee. “Hello. I'm Liam. Sorry about earlier. My grandma is over there, and she's 104 and could use a bite to eat. We've been in the woods all night.”
“That's a tough one, my friend.” He looked at Marty as he spoke. “Ma'am, I'm sorry to say we don't have much food here. Only what was brought by folks such as yourselves. We're trying to organize some raiding parties to go out and look for food and supplies, but it's been so dangerous none of the leaders have been willing to let any of the kids go back out of the valley.”
Marty merely nodded.
“For the rest of you, please assemble over on the path there. I'll be with you once you're all together.”
Liam and Drew both got up to help Grandma again. “Thanks, Drew. I can get her if you have places to be?”
“No sweat. I'm not doing anything important right now. I want to see where they stick you. Otherwise, I'll never find you in this crowd.”
Liam was pleased to have a friend here.
He noticed Mr. Lee was stopping to talk to stragglers while they were lifting Grandma. A couple with a small baby. Another elderly woman. And then he arrived just as they were moving Grandma off the boat. He was purposefully facing away from the larger group.
“Hi, guys. Look, I couldn't give this out in front of all those people, but I have a grain bar for your grandma.”
Marty tried to demur, but Liam accepted it for her and promised she would get it.
“Scout's honor.”
“Good enough for me.”
Mr. Lee walked away, toward the group of new recruits.
They didn't have to travel far.
“Y'all are the first group to get spots inside the woods. We've run out of space on the flat, grassy part of the valley, so we had some of the boys clear this flattish section of woods so people could use it. We'll be placing new people in similar redoubts around the outside of the whole camp. I guess we'll just keep on spreading until we have a city again.” He laughed at the joke, though no one appeared in the mood to laugh with him.
After spending the rest of the afternoon with Mr. Lee and several of his assistants, the group was settled into a small enclave of clear space among the large trees. They were joined on one side with the main encampment—in fact, they could still see the central administration building. The other three sides were empty woodlands as far as they could see in the hilly terrain. By pooling resources, and shoving too many people into too few tents, they were able to get everyone in the group into a tent they could call home. Someone even volunteered a sleeping bag for Grandma, which prompted her to immediately plop down in a small tent to rest.
“Don't leave without me,” she joked as Liam zipped her tent flap to keep the bugs out.
Liam was standing right next to the tent, marveling at their luck at having such a fine place to stay, at least until they sorted how they were going to get home—when he heard a familiar and terrifying sound far in the distance.
Buzz. Buzzzzz. Buzz.
Mr. Lee was banging in a tent stake for a nearby tent when he stopped to listen. Soon everyone was stopped, cocking their heads like a herd of nervous deer.
Buzzzzzzzz.
“It sounds kind of like a chainsaw.”
“No, it sounds like a bunch of hammers hitting over and over.”
Liam co
uld only admire the Scouts for being problem solvers. One part of him felt he shouldn't make it known he knew what the sound was, but another part was anxious to earn the respect and trust of Mr. Lee. Deep down, he also wanted to impress the younger kids within earshot. So he spoke up.
“No, my friends. You're all wrong. It's a gun. A lot like a fire-breathing dragon.”
Everyone was laughing, except Liam.
Almost everyone.
Mr. Lee wasn't laughing, either.
Chapter 12: The Watchtower
“Liam, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”
The buzzing of the Gatling gun had been going on and off for the past couple minutes. It was still far away, but definitely getting closer. The road from the highway to this camp lay on the other side of the hill where Liam had come from, and it intersected the beginning of this small valley system. The gun would be heard while the MRAP was driving on that entrance road.
When the two were away from everyone else, Mr. Lee spoke first. “I did some time in the military—sandbox stuff—so I know the sound of guns like that. I just didn't place it because it sounded so unusual stateside. Never thought I'd live to see the day military rigs are here shooting stuff up.”
“Well, they're probably shooting zombies, but I can't say for sure. I rode in one of those things yesterday and they were shooting tons as we drove, and unless they were just killing men and women at random, I'd say they were shooting zombies. But from time to time, we could hear gunshots pinging off the exterior. So someone was shooting us, though I can't think of any reason why. We eventually got trapped at a roadblock and we had to get out while under fire—”
Liam felt himself tense up at the thought of all the chaos and bullets flying by.
“—I managed to help Grandma out of the MRAP and into a Humvee so we could escape, but I'll admit, I've never been as scared in my whole life. That includes riding a train in the dark with zombies lurking all around us.”
“Hmm. Sounds really dangerous for us if that thing decides to come up this way. You were inside it, you say? How'd you manage that?”
“The people in that convoy might be CDC, or they might be Homeland Security. They also might be some kind of military unit. They captured my grandma—they brought me along so I could support her. They took us to a medical camp over in Lone Elk Park across the highway. They were running weird experiments, and told me the camp was set up to help find a cure to the zombie plague.”
“And you believed them?”
“No, sir. I didn't believe a word... Well, there was one man, a colonel, who seemed to tell me the truth. Oh yeah, back up, I almost forgot the most important part. They killed my girlfriend in cold blood to convince us to go with them in the first place.”
That thought forced his shoulders to slump noticeably.
In return, Mr. Lee briefly put his hand on Liam's shoulder. “OK, so they are super dangerous. Sounds like you did everything you could to keep your grandma alive. Don't beat yourself up.”
“Thanks, but there's something else.”
It made Liam feel marginally better to share his story with the Scout leader, but he turned inward while considering his next statement. Was Hayes looking specifically for his grandma? Hayes and his buddies hightailed it out of there the second the warning sirens went off. But where did they go? Another camp? Back to some central base? Did they go somewhere nearby and watch all the old people walk right out the front gate? Would they know he and Grandma survived at all?
Maybe the old folks told them.
It wasn't something he wanted to admit, but the escapees weren't exactly friendly, in the end. They had volunteered to be there—maybe they resented a young boy coming along and tipping the apple cart? It was plausible Hayes caught up with them, and maybe gave them all a cold beverage while he interrogated them to learn where he and Grandma had gone. They could at least confirm Grandma was alive. That part rang true.
“Mr. Lee, I would feel bad if something happened and you didn't know this. They might be coming for my grandma and me. If they thought we were still alive, it's possible they're once again trying to track us down. I honestly don't know why we're so important to them. We've been tangling with Hayes almost back to when the sirens went off. Unfortunately, some of our fellow escapees know we crossed the highway in this direction. It's only natural we would end up here. We should leave.”
“I appreciate the offer. I really do. You show a lot of bravery in saying that, and I'm honored to meet someone who would go to such lengths to take care of his family. You're exactly the kind of young man we need here. You've done the Boy Scouts proud. Now, I hope you have comfortable shoes. We have to do some running.”
Liam was wearing his old running shoes—he saved his better pairs for track meets and long runs—but they were still serviceable. Of course they were covered with dried blood and their original color was hidden underneath the road grime of the last week.
“Where are we going? How will we move Grandma?”
“Just you and I. We'll leave her here for now, but I promise we'll be back in time to take care of her. Right now, I want to take you to the camp leaders so you can share your story with them, and they can make the decision on what to do next. Since these people present a threat to us all, we have to make sure the leaders are involved.”
“What do you think should happen?”
“We should hide you guys, of course. We aren't just going to hand you over.”
He seemed to dwell on that for a moment.
“I have to inform the leaders. But if, for some reason, they decide to do something silly—like turn you guys in—I promise I will personally help get you guys out of camp before that happens.”
“Are you saying you don't trust the leaders?”
“I trust them. But they're a team of civilian leaders working under extreme conditions. Not all of them are cut out for the tough decisions necessary to run a camp of this size, with these plaguers lurking all around us. Some of them might see the arrival of military units as a return of authority. Look, I'm not trying to scare you. I want you to have the lay of the land. I'm in this to help you.” Mr. Lee turned around and started jogging, giving a wave for Liam to follow.
He didn't know what to say. So he started after him. They ran back through their new little cluster of tents, informed Drew and the others where they were going and that they'd be right back, and then began a fast jog over to the administration building.
2
The camp headquarters was bustling with activity. People were running in and out in droves, presumably to get advice and instructions from the camp leaders. Mr. Lee explained the Scouts had divided up several tasks to different committees, and each committee was located in this central building. It made it easy to find answers, and it kept a lot of runners busy zipping all over the camp, but it seemed to work efficiently.
They walked in on the ground floor and Liam was disappointed to see how many people were inside.
“The leaders are against the far wall. Follow me.” Mr. Lee snaked through the crowd, unconcerned about queue protocols. Even though there were dozens of people lined up in front of the table where the leaders positioned themselves, he walked Liam right up to it. He got the attention of one of the leaders—an older gray-haired man with a Boy Scout hat but no other uniform pieces—and motioned for him to lean over the table. He whispered something, and the man then went to each of the others on the committee with a quiet message. They all left the table to go up some steps to the second level of the small building.
The last leader to leave spoke up. “Sorry, folks. We had something come up and need to put our heads together. We'll be back as soon as we can.” He then pointed to Mr. Lee and Liam. “You two, please come upstairs.”
Everyone in line seemed disappointed at the delay, but no one made any snide comments at this turn of events.
The upstairs was the complete opposite of the lower level. Peaceful. Calm. Unoccupied.
Ther
e were four men and two women on the leadership team. Most were retirement age, and appeared healthy and active. One man appeared to be old enough to have been an escapee from Elk Meadow, but he still looked fit. A couple had full uniforms. Most had pieces of their uniforms, as if they arrived here and had to borrow them.
“Lee, what's happening out there?” It was one of the women, though it was unclear if anyone outranked the others.
“Everyone, meet Liam. He's a Boy Scout who found his way here with his 104-year-old grandma this morning. They came across the north hill...”
He took five minutes to explain everything he knew about Liam's journey, the reason he was in the government camp, and why Hayes and his team might be looking for them. Liam filled in any gaps, and answered whatever questions he could.
Just as Mr. Lee predicted, their first reaction was of hope. They thought the government was coming to restore order. A younger leader explained, “I appreciate your situation, Liam, but I have a hard time believing these government people would hurt any of us. Maybe we could get them to provide some food and water once they know we're here. Surely there can't be bigger groups of survivors in the area. They have to help us, right?”
The oldest man seemed to support his reasoning. “Back when I lived in California, we'd get those earthquakes and it would tear things up something awful. Lots of people were turned out of their homes, and we'd all go to shelters and get our three squares a day until our neighborhoods were re-opened. They did that after Hurricane Katrina too. Wind and water knocks everything down. Government picks it all back up. The scale of this is bigger, but they'll be along to help us. They always come through in the end.”
This wasn't going the way Liam had hoped. He had made it clear the government had killed his girlfriend, kidnapped his grandma, and forced him into a glorified prison camp.
Another of the male leaders seemed to hedge. “I'm willing to believe you, Liam. No one would make up a story like that. But I just can't believe the entire government is in on it. Maybe the trucks heading our way are a different group—the good guys—come here to help?”
Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7 Page 49