Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “No, I just have what's in the clip. Thirty rounds, I think.”

  He didn't think the cusp of battle was the right time to correct her terminology. “Me too. I didn't anticipate the need to carry more mags since we had a wheelbarrow full of ammo with us.”

  Never take anything for granted. Never.

  “There are 1,000's of rounds of ammo within fifty feet of us, spread out after they tumbled down the hill,” she said with a wisp of regret.

  All of them took positions at the bottom of the steep hill. Mel and Phil were on the left. Lana and Jerry were on the right. The three young adults were in the middle.

  In a couple minutes the first head popped over the edge of the highway above them. Looking for the sounds and tastes of fresh human meat.

  She brought friends.

  5

  Liam carried four weapons. The least useful was his pocket knife. It would barely be classified as a weapon under most circumstances, but certainly not for this one. The next least useful weapon was probably his small .22 caliber Ruger Mark I. It had a nine-round mag, and Liam actually had a few extra rounds in his pockets, but it was difficult to aim in the dark, and there was no margin of error when shooting zombies in the face. Reloading in the dark while in close combat would be impossible. Next was the spear he kept lashed together with his rifle. The stout stick was useful for piercing the brains of zombies and could be reused many times. The primary downsides were you had to be strong to use to more than a few times, and it was ineffective against multiple close enemies. His most useful weapon was his AK-47 from his dad's stockpile. Practically a collector's item, the distinctive rifle found its way into Liam's house because it was so cheap to buy. His dad had ten of them. It could put a deadly round into the brain of a zombie from a reasonable distance, though in the dark, its usefulness was reduced greatly. Still, of them all, the AK was his go-to first line of defense. With careful husbanding of ammo, he and Victoria alone could take down sixty zombies. The thought of needing more was enough to make his knees wobble.

  The others had similar rifles or shotguns at the ready. Liam stuck his spear into the hard-packed soil of the weedy grass so he could grab it if he ran out of ammo. Victoria did the same next to Bo. They agreed whoever ran out of ammo first would use those backup weapons. Victoria also had one of Liam's Mark I's in her holster, but she only had nine rounds for it.

  The filthy robed woman up top screamed and began her descent. Almost immediately, she tripped on the same ruts responsible for Liam's accident moments earlier. It was almost comical as she fell forward and tumbled down the hill in a raggedy ball of arms and legs. She came to rest directly in front of Bo—right in the middle. Liam hadn't seen a zombie get disoriented, but this one had trouble getting back up. Rather than take the easy shot with his shotgun, Bo slung the gun over his shoulder, grabbed the spear at his side, and slammed it home. The woman was hard to see in the low light, but the gruesome sounds of the spear plus the pangs of death were horrible. Liam braced for things to get worse.

  More came over the top. Almost all of them arrived from their left. A few were walking along the embankment from that direction, though most were coming straight over the top as if they were in the jumble of cars to begin with.

  About half the zombies met the rut and tumbled down the hill. Most were out of control as they seemed to lack any sense of balance once they went from flat to hillside. In moments, there were a dozen falling down the hill.

  Then it got loud. Liam had been around firearms his whole life, but always with the approved safety goggles and ear protection. These days, people did away with such frivolities. It was just explosion after explosion from the barrels of their guns. He almost longed for OSHA to come write them a ticket for having an unsafe work environment.

  Most dropped to a knee to steady their aim. Hitting things in the dark was already difficult. Hitting tumbling things in the dark, while aiming for their heads, was a whole new level of crazy.

  Those who rolled down were comparatively easy to dispatch. Once they reached the bottom, they were exposed on the ground while they tried to recover. The moonlight was enough to find their heads. The real problem were the random zombies who stayed on their feet as they sped down the hill—not quite a run, more of an ungainly bounding. They closed the distance with the shooters dangerously fast.

  The first person to go down was Jerry. He was hit at full speed by a lanky man and together they fell over into the wooded fringe behind them all. Lana was experienced pulling zombies off her husband, but her action took them both off the firing line while they contested the outcome. It left a lot of territory for Liam to cover.

  He was already on his knee and lined up his shots as carefully as he could, but he still missed a lot. Even when a zombie was hit in the head, its momentum kept it going down the hill—adding to the chaos.

  In less than a minute, Liam's rifle was out of ammo.

  How did I go through thirty rounds that fast?

  He threw it down and pulled out his Mark I. It gave him nine more shots before things would get personal with the spear.

  Meanwhile, Phil and Mel dealt with the same problems. They had to take a few steps backward so they had some level ground in front of them where the descending ghouls could come to rest and be dispatched. They were much more disciplined than Liam and Victoria, so the hammers of their guns kept things even on that side.

  In the middle, Bo, Liam, and Victoria took a step or two back from the hill to make room for the stack of undead developing there. Bo was still using the spear. Despite his heft, he darted among the injured or disoriented zombies lying at their feet and put them out of their misery. He dodged and ducked between Victoria and Liam with athletic grace as they all sought targets.

  “I'm out!” Victoria threw down her rifle, just as Liam had done. She went right for her spear, rather than her pistol. She tried to help Bo.

  Liam couldn't get a read on the chaos around him. To his left, he heard his parents yelling and screaming as they rolled around in weeds. To his right, he only heard the regimented banging sounds of the expert shooters. The middle?

  We're screwed.

  More zombies came over the top.

  “We need a new plan!” Liam yelled it, but didn't know to whom it was directed.

  His mom answered.

  “We have to pull back. Jerry's injured.”

  Jerry was howling in pain, but managed to shout over all the noise, “No! We can't leave the supplies!”

  “Dad, just leave it. We can come back for it. Let's move!”

  He didn't know if anyone would listen to him, but he grabbed Victoria and she readily followed. Soon they were all following Liam into the dark woods.

  Ahead he had trouble seeing anything. The bright flashes of the guns had ruined his night vision, and the moon was unable to penetrate the thick canopy of leaves above them. He had forced a decision for them all—and it could be a decision that killed them all. What if they ran into another group of infected in this direction? He'd remembered how zombies seemed to end up in pockets in the woods around the Boy Scout camp, like they'd gotten lost and were waiting for something to guide them out. Something alive.

  He didn't know how badly his father was injured. Maybe he couldn't keep up?

  He stopped in a small dry rocky creek bed; the others came up behind him. Several small flashlights bobbed his way. Phil and Mel were last, constantly picking off the fastest pursuit.

  “Where's my dad?” Looking around, he added, “and where's my mom?”

  “Dad! Mom!”

  “We're coming!”

  They weren't far behind; his dad leaned heavily on his mom. In the darkness it was impossible to see his condition, but his heavy grunting painted a dire picture. He had no time for a checkup. Other grunts and moans weren't far behind his parents.

  “Keep moving.”

  It was as intelligent a plan as he could come up with at that moment. Everyone followed.

  In a few m
oments, Liam found a small rocky outcrop blocking his path. He could tell they were facing the start of an incline up the next hill, and this formation provided the perfect defensive position. If he could get them all up onto the top of the rocks.

  “Everyone up on these rocks. We're going to fight them from here.”

  He kept it simple. Everyone in the group grasped his plan as soon as they saw the rocks. Find a way up, wait until the zombies show up, then fight them from a raised position.

  “Just don't let them grab your feet. That will be the end.”

  He didn't need to spell it out. He'd seen men and women pulled from the flat railcar he'd rode out of St. Louis. It had also provided an elevated fighting position. But there were untold zombies pursuing them a week ago. Enough that they stacked up and made unholy ramps for others to climb.

  Surely there couldn't be that many? Unlike the rail car, they could move along the rocks if there were too many. They could start running up the next hill if things deteriorated. That is, if his dad could move. He tried to get a read on his father.

  Jerry made it up, but was lying on a rock, behind Lana. Liam could just see him in the darkness. Condition unknown, but not looking good.

  They'd had just enough time to arrange themselves in a loose line, facing the direction from which the zombies hurtled out of the darkness. The risk of shooting each other was minimal.

  Liam wondered if he would be that guy that gets shot by friendly fire.

  Or worse, shoots my own friends?

  So much to worry about in the seconds before contact.

  The zombies weren't fooled by the retreating humans or by the darkness. They weren't as fast, but they stayed on track as they approached the rocky area.

  They had also thinned out. The trees and uneven terrain of the woods ensured the mass of zombies was staggered. They attacked the group in ones and twos, rather than all at once.

  The height of the rocks made using the spears kind of awkward. To be effective, Liam had to drop to one knee to get the leverage he needed to thrust downward into the heads of the zombies. He also found himself constantly worried about tipping or being dragged over the side of his perch. A few times, he had to jump the rocky terrain to find new perches.

  After some initial gun fire, the entire group reverted to their spears. Even Bo had borrowed Jerry's, and joined the horrible melee. Soon all he heard was the sickening slurps of spears finding their homes in the skulls of the plague victims, followed by a dull crunch as the bodies fell onto the forest floor. The huffing and puffing of the men and women thrusting the spears played counterpoint to the death they handed out.

  Liam found the rhythm both horrible and beautiful. In one of the increasingly longer lulls between zombies, he debated if Grandma would call this the rhythm of life? Personally, Liam felt the sounds of life's harmonies were gone forever. The laughter of children. The patter of rain. The rustle of leaves. Those songs were for the living with a bright future. Hearing them now only reminded the listener of what was lost.

  All that remained was the cacophony of a dead and dying world.

  The horrible music played for a long time, but went silent with the dawn.

  They survived to see the tenth sunrise since the sirens.

  Chapter 3: Trojan Horse

  The dawn brought a new perspective on the destruction they'd wrought overnight. Liam looked around the rocky outcropping where they'd found sanctuary; bloody, discarded bodies were strewn everywhere. They were stacked two or three deep, but nothing like he'd seen on the railroad journey. They were too spread out here.

  His dad was fortunate. He wasn't bitten.

  “Your mother says I broke my fibula. It was that very first zombie that ran me down. It pushed me back and I fell over a tree root and he landed hard on top of my leg. The force fractured my bone. It hurts like hell.” He laughed a little to show he wasn't giving up.

  Bo and Phil helped him walk back through the woods toward the road. The others provided security with their spears. There didn't appear to be any additional zombies afoot, at least not in the woods.

  When they arrived back at the bottom of the roadside hill, they were amazed at how many infected they'd killed there. The use of firearms knocked down a lot of zombies in a short period of time, probably giving them the edge they needed to retreat and survive the night. Without the spears, they'd probably all be dead.

  “We need to give those Boy Scouts a medal or something.” Liam was being serious. Boy Scouts loved awards and commendations. It was part of their DNA.

  They started to clean up the mess of the fallen bicycle and wheelbarrow. Guns had been flung everywhere, the bag of rice had been partially damaged, and boxes of ammo were spread among the dead bodies in their little combat zone. It was like a sick Easter egg hunt.

  Liam focused on the bike. He was positive it would be ruined, but it looked remarkably intact upon closer inspection. The fabric of the trailer had several big rips, but the frame was fine. In the end, the only major structural issue was the arm that hooked up to the rear frame of the bike. It had been bent pretty bad, and didn't seem likely to survive being bent back into proper shape. It was only a hollow aluminum tube.

  They decided to collect the guns and put them on the bike again, just as they had before. They put most of the ammo into the wheelbarrow. It was so heavy Phil was put in charge rather than Lana. Since the trailer arm was broken, Bo had an idea to use a stout log to pull it by hand. Liam found the proper piece of wood for the job. It was about a ten-foot straight section of a young sapling. It took some time with his pocketknife and some larger knives carried by the others, but they were able to get it down. The key feature was a notch in the bottom where a second shoot was growing upward. It provided a kind of hook at the end.

  By the time he was done, most of the debris was cleaned up and waiting for him up on the highway. They put things together in between several cars so as not to be easily seen by anyone or anything else. Liam used his hook and slid it underneath the two-wheeled trailer, anchoring it to the frame by pulling it forward. Now, they could pull the little trailer by hand. The last thing he needed to do was put his dad back there.

  The trailer was built to seat two small children side by side, facing backward. A full-sized man like Jerry was hard pressed to fit in there, but it was up to the task. The makeshift ambulance was completed when they found an empty suitcase in the traffic jam. They put the extendable handle under the frame of the trailer, wrapped up with the wooden hook. This allowed Jerry to put his broken leg into the suitcase as its small wheels rolled behind the trailer. It was ugly, but it worked. Liam and Victoria both pulled the trailer. Lana walked behind Jerry. Bo was in the lead with his shotgun at the low ready. They used his bike for a few guns and some equipment they stuffed into Phil's duffel.

  They grabbed another empty suitcase and put the mostly full bag of rice in it. Lana pulled that behind her.

  Finally, they cleared the big intersection. On several occasions, Bo used his spear to repulse aggressive straggler zombies. Once he fell to the ground after badly misjudging the speed of an oncoming walker. The two tumbled together. It happened with lightning speed. One second Bo was fighting like a pro. The next minute he was in mortal danger.

  Lana had made a living out of saving her husband the past ten days.

  “Keep him off you. I'm here!”

  She used her spear as a baseball bat first, and got the attention of the blood-slick and sick-looking male zombie dressed in short pants and a tank top as it squirmed on top of Bo. He had the good sense to pull up his knees to keep the thing off balance and off his skin. It allowed Lana's “bat” to hit him solidly in the head; the momentum carried him to Bo's side. It was off to his side, so he could roll away. By the time he was up, Lana stood over a still corpse.

  “Thanks. That was close!”

  He wiped sweat from his brow in the early morning sun.

  “Don't mention it. I'm glad I could get to you in time.” Then,
as she looked back at the group, she doled out a piece of advice. “If they ever get you down, keep moving. Keep them off balance. Keep something between its mouth and your skin. As long as we stay in a group, you should only need to keep them at bay for a few seconds and we'll be along to help you. We have to look out for each other. Always.”

  Liam knew it made all the sense in the world. What he never expected was to hear his mother giving him advice on how to survive in a world filled with zombies.

  I assumed it would be the other way around.

  2

  The second half of their journey was anticlimactic. They struggled along with the bike and trailers, and made terrible time. They discussed resting in the trees but everyone was anxious to get to the safety of the Boy Scout camp. So they pushed on.

  They had nearly reached the last intersection before the camp when Lana's phone beeped as if it received a text message. Everyone stopped, shocked at the unfamiliar noise. The beeps and rings of technology had already faded from their memories.

  ***This is Liam. At Lone Elk Park at a gov camp. Just broke free. Beware Hayes. Heading for home. Have grandma. 7d since sirens.***

  “You sent this three days ago; I already got it. It's how we knew you were coming home and had Hayes to worry about. But now it's showing up again.”

  “I wonder if this is intentional? Maybe someone is controlling the cell towers. Someone we may have met before?”

  “Hayes? He already has Grandma; why would he want you too?”

  “Us. Why would he want us?” Liam reminded his dad.

  “OK, so maybe not Hayes. Then who?”

  Melissa was a little less paranoid. “Maybe this is just a coincidence. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

  Liam scratched his head at the reference, but had no ideas. Maybe he was getting too paranoid.

  “OK, the question is, do we try to contact Grandma while we can?”

  The group huddled together. They stood in front of Jerry in the trailer, since he couldn't get out. “We may never get another chance to do this. If we can find out where she is, it's worth the risk.” Liam was ready to jump on the chance.