Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

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Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7 Page 63

by Isherwood, E. E.


  “This is why we mustn't get involved!”

  “They're coming back.” Mr. Lee said it matter-of-factly, and with quiet certainty. It had the intended effect; it got their attention.

  Liam shifted in place, uncomfortable in the extended silence. He bumped into Victoria, and they traded terse smiles.

  Everyone in the council's corner spoke quietly now.

  “How do you know?”

  “They left a note, it said 'we're coming back.' It's the same guy hunting Liam. If we don't have the MRAP, they're going to come in here and we will have no way to defend ourselves.”

  “Lee. We don't want a war. We just want to survive. We want the government to come back and help us, not kill us.”

  “Then shouldn't we have the baddest war machine in the neighborhood on our side? To keep the peace? What if it's not the government, but instead a rogue motorcycle gang? What if a horde of infected walked up your child-lined street out there? There are a million reasons we should have this truck. Only one why we shouldn't. I don't know about you all, but I like to be prepared.”

  He'd thrown the Boy Scout motto in their faces. Liam wanted to say more, but held his tongue out of respect for Mr. Lee. He'd seen nothing but open warfare with zombies and bad guys since he'd left the library so many days ago. Surely the council had to see the logic?

  2

  The council's decision was bureaucratically inspired. They wanted the MRAP placed outside the valley so they couldn't be blamed for taking it. They didn't care where, or how, and they put Mr. Lee in charge of getting it done.

  The tone of the previous conversation made Liam's segue clumsy. “Before we go, I want to introduce a friend of mine from not far up the road. This is Bo, and he and his friends provided aid in getting me home and back. They would make good allies to have on your southern border.”

  The council seemed put out, and briefly claimed they had bigger problems dealing with all the new arrivals, but relented and invited Bo to converse with them. They let Liam know he was no longer needed.

  When he caught up with Victoria and Mr. Lee on the stairs, he was fuming. “Don't these guys have a clue what's happening around here? They don't care about defense, and they hardly seem to care about anything I say.”

  “Liam, not everyone thinks like you do. Hell, most people don't. These guys are used to rules and regulations dictating society as well as their little place here in this valley. You've been out of the valley and know it ain't pretty. I've been out on the border of this place and I've seen enough of it.”

  Liam had a spark of inspiration. Something that would put Mr. Lee firmly in the realm in which he was now operating: high paranoia. He started to grin at the thought, which Victoria noticed right away.

  “You have a plan?” she asked.

  “Let's get back to the MRAP. We have to go park the thing, don't we?”

  Mr. Lee nodded. He was smart enough not to press for details while standing in the same room as the people trying to chase them out.

  As Liam climbed the steps up the back of the truck, he watched Bo cut through the diminishing crowd. He walked with a tight grin and a feint head shake as he pulled on his deep brown beard. He climbed up and joined Liam as they sat in their seats.

  Mel and Phil were in the front seats, watching. “How'd it go? You all seem to be in a hurry.”

  Mr. Lee instructed them to slowly return to the front gate.

  “The council wants this vehicle out of their sight. They can't imagine a scenario where it would be good to have a badass weapon parked on their front lawn as a deterrent to any would-be attackers. We have to think of a place to park it. We want it to be close in case we need it, but it has to be out of sight. Out of mind for these wimps.”

  Bo added, “And they weren't interested in any kind of partnership with my family either. They invited us to come here and stay to help with security, but they saw no use in working out any kind of cooperation. They're more worried about finding tents for the new people, including me.” His tone was doused with sarcasm. He picked up his shotgun and began breaking it down to clean it.

  “Wow, it's the definition of a no-brainer to shore up your defenses by allying with groups nearby.” Liam didn't know if it was true in real life as much as he knew it was true in the online games he used to play with his friends.

  Victoria saw the emerging picture. “So, they want the truck out of the camp, but we know we have to stay close because we're going to need this thing at some point. Where should we go?”

  Mr. Lee was about to say something, but Liam jumped ahead. “We should take the MRAP and go check out the Elk Meadow facility. It's just over the hill and across the highway. If the place isn't ash, it may have some supplies we can use. If we have to keep the truck outside the valley, we might as well use it for something that can actually help the campers. We may not have much time.”

  He paused with an epiphany, “And it's not just Hayes. This place is falling apart. The council is losing their grip. Returning after the few days I've been on the road has put the whole place in contrast from the last time I was through here.”

  Mr. Lee, sitting on the bench opposite him seemed to chew on that. “Hmm. As head of security, I suppose I should be defending the camp from such accusations, but my job has mainly been to help defend against the infected moving through these woods. I don't do water cooler gossip or politics. But now that Liam said it, it would explain the heavy security inside the administration building. I was surprised they let you guys in with your weapons. Maybe my authority got you in, or maybe they were just sloppy. I wonder if they're asking themselves the same question right now? Maybe Liam is right. While we have it, we should put it to good use. As far as I know, none of our scouting parties have gone up that way. Most residences we've been searching are to the east and south because they're closer.”

  From up front, Mel and Phil shouted agreement.

  The MRAP waddled down the valley on the tight crowd-choked road, exited through the front gate, then turned right toward the highway rather than left back to the dirt road to Endor. They began the short drive toward the highway and their destination.

  Victoria leaned over to Liam. “Are you worried about going back? Didn't you say that's where they ran experiments on the old folks?”

  “Nah, I'm not worried. It's probably bombed to smithereens, but there were some odds and ends on the ground after my subdivision was blown up, so maybe there's something worth salvaging up there.” He looked to see if Mr. Lee or Bo were listening. When it appeared they were talking to each other, Liam continued as quietly as possible in the noisy space. “My real fear is finding the group of eighty-something's we left after we all walked out of the destroyed front gate of that place. At the time, I didn't think they would make it a mile by themselves, but later I wondered if Hayes found them, and they told him where Grandma and I had gone. Maybe they're all dead.”

  “Well, if they're dead, it wasn't because of you. If Hayes collected all those people, and killed them, that's on him.” She turned so she could look directly at him. Her pretty green eyes were the usual distractions. “You've had a lot of things go wrong since we met up. Believe me, I know. But you have to stay focused on what you can control. You can't take responsibility for what other people are doing in a world gone insane...I need you...to stay strong, so I can be strong with you. That's how we're going to survive this thing. And besides, you've had a lot of things go right, too...”

  She gave him a wide smile, missing tooth and all.

  They held hands throughout the rest of the fifteen-minute ride. The big truck easily punched through the wrecks and debris littering the highway, had no issues avoiding any of the pedestrians—some living, some dead. A short distance from the front gate of the elk preserve the MRAP pulled over and stopped.

  From up front, Mel said, “You guys might want to see this. I think we found some of your friends, Liam.”

  He moved to the front of the cab. Just off the side of t
he road, a dozen or so elderly people were piled in a ditch. Even from this vantage point it was clear many had been shot, several had clothes stripped from them as if they'd been the victims of looters. As best he could tell, none of them had become zombies.

  Everyone in the cab observed the scene in silence for a minute or so. Liam made sure Mr. Lee got a good look.

  Victoria took a peek too. “Do you think Hayes did this?”

  “I thought he was capable of anything, but this?” He felt his emotions welling up. “There could be no legitimate reason to kill innocent men and women like this. They may not have had much of a chance given their age and supplies, but they hardly made it a hundred yards from where I'd last seen them. I don't know. Maybe.”

  “Could someone have been waiting for them to walk away from you?” Phil asked.

  Ahead, the gate to St. Louis County Lone Elk Park beckoned them to search for answers.

  3

  The front gate to the elk preserve was exactly as Liam remembered it. When the military evacuated after the containment failure siren went off, they rammed through the closed metal gate. They couldn't be bothered to open it so it could be re-used later if needed. Liam figured if he was in the military and had every available resource, a simple elk pen would seem pretty expendable. To civilians like him though, having a strong fence around your survival camp would be a godsend. Maybe it would be worth fixing at some point.

  The MRAP proceeded in. The pavement was narrow for the big truck, but with no traffic, people, or zombies, it wound through the park for only a few minutes. On a low hill overlooking a small lake they observed the remains of the huge olive green tents of the government research facility.

  Everyone gathered near the front while Mel narrated, “The planes did a number on the place to be sure, but they weren't very thorough. Most of the tents are down, but not all of them. Even those on the ground look like they were blown down by the compression of the bombs, rather than direct hits. We might actually find something here.”

  They did a better job bombing my house. How nice of them.

  “OK everyone. Be careful out there. Might be unexploded bombs laying around.” Mel said it, saw everyone looking at her, and continued, “Really, I have no idea. Bombs aren't my area of expertise. Just seems like prudent advice.”

  She and Phil shared a knowing laugh.

  They all exited through the front of the truck, and spread out in their search. Victoria and Liam went in the direction of the remaining big tent. He told her it was the tent where he'd seen the experiment, and where the colonel became infected. Essentially it was ground zero for the destruction of the whole place.

  “What do you expect to find here? Are you looking for something in particular?”

  “I'm not sure myself. All the medical testing that went on here had to have generated some paperwork. Some clues as to what this virus is all about. What caused it. Why it spawns zombies. But the troubling thing to me—besides the government bombing my neighborhood and stealing my grandma—

  “—and shooting your girlfriend!” she interjected with a smile.

  “—and shooting my girlfriend, is the fact there didn't appear to be any answers here. The colonel may have known more than he let on, but I was there when he died. His last words weren't about the virus, they were about how much he loved his family. He gave me the photograph so I'd know them if I ever met them. If he had any clue how to stop this thing, wouldn't he have given it to me?”

  “That makes sense.” She was a little bit ahead when she stopped and turned around. She looked like she was about to say something when she swayed like the world was tipping. Liam would have rushed to help her but he felt the same effect. Liam's mind raced through a series of images, settling on a view over a city as if he were high up, looking out a window. Then, nothing.

  They were both were on the ground when they came to. None of the others were in sight, meaning no one likely saw what had happened. Victoria sat up as Liam pushed himself off the ground and dusted his creek-stained jeans and his dark “Vote Roland” t-shirt.

  “What the hell just happened? Did we both fall down at the same time?”

  “It looks that way. And I had the strangest visions as I stood there—”

  “A city?”

  “How'd you know that? Was that some kind of shared vision?”

  Liam looked around; imaginary sensors scanning for solutions. Nothing was obviously out of place. No projectors. No mind-control orbs. His mind searched for science fiction explanations, but there was nothing there but the semi-perforated tent and lots of debris.

  He helped her up, noticing once again how her pretty eyes offset the bruises, black eyes, broken nose, and missing tooth. He was momentarily happy to be with her, no matter how much destruction was around him.

  “What?”

  “I'm smiling because you make me happy. But also, I don't know, that vision made me feel happy, too. Reassured in some way. I can't explain it.”

  “Hmm. I see what you mean.” She smiled as she held his hand. “Like we can do anything when we're together. Like we have to do something together.”

  I wonder if she is talking about...

  Liam stood there with a dumb look on his face. Not sure what to say next.

  “No, dummy. Get the dirty thoughts out of your head.” She smiled broadly as she continued, “I'm talking about something really important. Like saving Grandma. Saving the world.”

  That brought him back down to reality.

  “Of course! Yes, that's why we're here. I was totally thinking the same thing.” They laughed, and Liam admitted it gave him the strength he needed to lead her into the tent. She stayed close.

  He acknowledged again how much better he felt to have her by his side.

  The zombie apocalypse would be so much worse if I was on my own.

  He knew how it felt; he went a long time thinking she was shot dead. Now it was like she was reborn.

  4

  The tent was dark, but not a consuming darkness. The bright of the day seeped in at various points, including the many holes from the shrapnel; they provided enough light to see most of the interior. Liam tied off the flap so the door would provide light even as they went deeper inside.

  He knew the front room was the reception area, devoid of anything interesting. He jumped when he saw what looked like a hand reaching under the tent in the corner, but it was his overactive imagination. He pushed the flap into the middle chamber—where he expected to find the table where the old man was strapped down. But when he entered the space, he could tell the man was no longer in the operating theater. Even in the reduced light he could see there were no bodies nearby. He'd just vanished.

  Impossible. He was shot in the head.

  He searched his memories. The last time he'd been here, the colonel took him into the woods to show him the secret of this camp. The special flavor of zombie they'd found. Was there something special about the man he knew was 106 years old? A man who had died in front of his eyes several days ago?

  He spoke to lessen his anxiety. “Did I ever tell you what they kept hidden out in the woods of this camp?”

  “You said the Air Force bombed the camp itself and a pit where they dumped all the bodies.”

  “Ah, that's true. There was a big pit. They dumped a bunch of old folks after they pumped them full of zombie blood to see what happened to them. But the other thing in the woods was a corral with two zombies the colonel said were from Chicago. They had a special skill, I guess you'd call it. They could climb.”

  “Wow. That's huge. It means even a fenced in place like this wouldn't be safe.”

  Crap! I hadn't thought of that.

  “Um, true. But also it implies there are even more kinds of zombies out there. The man they had in this operating suite was 106, but he acted strange when he was infected. He spoke in a strange language. The last thing he said was that he was sorry and—” Liam tried to remember the sequence of events, “And then he pu
rposely and calmly bit the colonel. The colonel then calmly shot the old man and walked out the door.”

  “It sounds like it was scripted, Liam, now that you say it like that.”

  “The only thing the medical team could say about that was they could have saved the camp if they had immediately killed the colonel. Like it happened every day with them. Looking back, it seemed an odd thing to say.”

  “But if the colonel wanted to destroy the camp, why the complexity? He could have just let any old zombie loose, run the siren, and then he'd still be alive.”

  “I don't know. All I know is he set things in motion when he left the tent, then the camp cleared out surprisingly fast—minus the test subjects. They left them for dead. It was just me, the colonel until he shot himself, and the elderly test subjects in the end...”

  Liam stood there for a few moments, lost in thought. Victoria paced around, thinking out loud. “So the camp cleared out, including the people who wanted the colonel dead. Didn't you say he gave you a picture of his family? Did it have any clues on it? Can I see it?”

  Liam kept it in his front pocket, though he didn't readily know how long he expected to carry it around. It was a five-by-seven inch photograph showing the man's wife and son. The boy was about Liam's age, at least at the time the photo was taken. On the back, written on a white mailing label, was an address. He said it was the address of his wife. He handed it to Victoria.

  “I don't see any clues on this, other than the address of his family. Maybe they know something, but it will be a while before we go to Colorado to ask them.”

  Victoria held the photo in her hand. She moved closer to a notch in the canvas so she'd have more light. She ran her fingers over the paper. She looked at it from multiple directions. Then, she held it up to the daylight, as if looking at an x-ray.

  “Hey! There's something under this label. It's a tiny square of some kind.”

  She handed it back, and sure enough he saw it too. He had completely overlooked the label, as it was white and appeared to be a convenient way to write on the back of the glossy photo paper. The square wasn't any bigger than his pinky fingernail, and it was hard to see with the writing on the paper and the fact the whole thing had been folded several times.

 

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