Liam heard his signal.
“Liam. Start crawling back toward us. Stay low.” It was Lee.
He used his arms to push himself backward in the wet grass. He had no way of knowing how far he had to go, but it couldn't be further than fifty or sixty feet until he reached the small road. He knew there was a shallow ditch for drainage on each side. He could use that to make better time away from the admin building.
All the people who cleared out for the survivalists were running off the hill behind him, across the field, and into the creek and beyond. A couple kids tripped over him while on the run. Parents picked them up and dragged them away without a second look at him.
Gunfire increased on the hillside.
Do I keep going backward?
“Liam. We're out of time. You need to run for it!”
He stood up. Lee ran toward him. Zombies were messily draining out of the woods, even as shouts and shots continued to ring out from up on the hillside. Many people were almost certainly surrounded by the thousands of zombies in his field of view.
His feet refused to run. It was a flashback to his first zombie on the first day—yoga girl—and his inability to do more than watch his death approaching. Only Lee's firm grasp of his arm brought him back into the moment and got him on the move.
A handful of Marines were nearby. They had knocked over a couple picnic tables, tipped them on their sides to form a V-shaped wedge—the pointy part faced the arriving zombies. The open part was just enough room for the three survivors to protect two additional wounded Marines lying high up in the V, both with combat shotguns on their legs. Liam thought it was both brave and impossible. He immediately felt compelled to go help them, but Mr. Lee's grip was insistent—as if he knew Liam's thoughts.
In seconds, they stumbled down into the creek bed, and turned south to run away from the administration building and the survivalists still holed up somewhere nearby.
“We have to make a run for it until we meet some more shooters. We can't hold them off with so few of us left, but maybe the duck guys can take it in the face.” He laughed sarcastically as they splashed down the shallow creek.
Liam looked back at the building. A few campers with rifles were at the ready in the shattered and broken second floor windows, anticipating the wave of death heading for them. He saw a few survivalists, mostly in the creek bed. Some were backing away. Some were sticking it out.
Everyone wore a mask of fear.
With one last peek at the zombies, he understood.
They're endless.
2
Marty went for another test. The windows on the penthouse level of the hotel faced the main part of St. Louis, not toward the Arch. In the daytime, she recognized lots of landmarks, especially the stadium where the St. Louis Cardinals played baseball. If she could ever figure out Liam's phone, she could lead him right to her. She felt it in her right hip pocket as she walked down the hall, reassuring herself she still had it.
The “nurse” wore a bio-hazard suit. Because she was so short, Marty couldn't even look into the face of her captor. The person moved like a woman, but she admitted she was guessing. Most of the nurses she'd ever met were women, so it seemed reasonable.
As expected, they guided her to a plush seat, and helped her sit down. The cushion sank so far down she didn't know if she could get out on her own. She laughed at the notion it was intentional to keep her from running away.
Soon they wheeled in a gurney with another elderly person up top.
No one had talked to her since she arrived. At first she was thankful for the privacy, since she spent time trying to manipulate Liam's phone, but eventually she tired of that and just wanted someone to talk to. She tried to engage with the nurse helping her, but they were adamant about not saying anything.
It left her with nothing but the screams of other patients.
Each time she was brought here, the elderly victim was carted in, and many minutes later, the screams would start. First it was intermittent, but eventually the screams would become so intense she would watch the door for fear something horrible would spill out. Angie had made those same horrible sounds back at the beginning.
Liam mentioned they deliberately infected test subjects back at Elk Meadow, though part of her wondered if it was really possible. It sounded like something a conspiracy nut would say. She didn't think Liam was a conspiracy nut. But intentional infections? She'd seen dozens of people go in, sometimes two or three at a time. They couldn't all be dead.
As expected, the screams began on today's subject.
It was dangerous, but she decided to pull out Liam's phone. They never came for her until the screaming was long over with. This would be a prime time to see if she could finally get a connection to Liam.
The screen of the phone showed her a picture of Liam's face giving her a “shush” symbol over his mouth. She knew that was the last picture he took of himself before he slipped his phone into her pocket when they parted last. She knew how to “open” the phone because it said “slide open” right on the cover. What she didn't know was how to contact Liam. When he gave the phone to her, he probably didn't realize she could no longer call him because she had his phone! He didn't leave a number, and she hadn't had to memorize a phone number in decades.
Through trial and error, she poked and thumbed her way into the address book for the phone. Who would be the most logical person to call now, she wondered? Probably her grand-daughter-in-law; Liam's mom. Her number was in the system, but when she tapped the digits it always said the phone was unable to connect to the network. No real surprise given the state of things. She tried it a few more times as she ignored the screams.
To her surprise, it rang.
3
Liam kept running.
Plagued with exhaustion, he stumbled and landed face down on the smooth rocks lining the creek bed, even before he knew it was happening.
Lee picked him up and practically tossed him further down the creek—away from the zombie hordes spilling over the bank behind them.
“Run, Liam!”
He almost missed the scream from Lee over all the other campers yelling and cursing at their own stragglers, as well as the constant chatter of gunfire. Without ear protection, the sound of guns was painful. But it was the only sound keeping him alive.
“Come on, we aren't going to die in this creek!”
Lee pulled him through the shallow water. Here and there, a zombie crashed over the edge of the creek to their right. Sometimes Lee would put it down with his rifle. Other times another camper would do the necessary task. Liam still had a hard time making his feet move.
The smell of gunpowder fought with the stench of the walking corpses approaching them.
They reached a point in the creek where the bank seemed low and flat to their left, allowing them an easy egress into the main part of the valley. Something seemed to satisfy Mr. Lee when he saw it because he pushed Liam hard to get out of the creek.
As they gained the top of the bank, he could see the zombies flooding out of the same woods he and Grandma traversed that first day they arrived.
Many of his fellow campers were unable to escape and were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers pouring forth. Those in the creek were faring a little better because the barrier slowed the onslaught enough to fight or escape. But too many armed campers vacated the creek and made a run for it. Fewer guns meant fewer zombies put down.
Lee paused.
“What are we waiting for?” Liam's breathing, and his feet, were getting back to normal. The initial shock and frenzy inside the creek was wearing off.
“We need to figure out what's happening here. Running around without a plan is going to get us killed.”
The creek was a mass of confusion. Upstream, scores of zombies lurched for people in every direction. Nearest to him, and downstream, hundreds of campers also ran in every direction. Some fought with guns. Some fought with spears. Some carried small children to safety. Others app
eared to be panicked to the point of helplessness. A few tried to hide...
After all the planning. It ends like this?
“I want to save this place, Lee.”
“I do too. Trust me. OK, I see our goal. You see that clump of trees up on the hillside?” Lee pointed it out as they crouched in their position. “We're going to run like hell over there and then see if we can find anyone with a gun. We have to pull things together or everyone is going to die in this valley.”
Liam couldn't argue with the logic. “Do you see Victoria anywhere?”
Liam received no answer. Instead, he was pulled forward again and they began to run across the relatively flat, tent-covered field between the creek and the beginning of the hill forming the south side of the valley.
Several times he saw other runners fall down after being shot.
“Who's shooting at us?” He yelled to the crouch-running leader, but it was more for his own sanity.
“Everyone!”
Liam saw handfuls of campers holed up in small clumps, as if they paused from running to defend their patch of ground. He'd seen the same thing when the survivalists attacked. Some were firing wildly into the crowds, uncaring if they were zombies or not. Others were picking their targets with more care.
He looked over his shoulder to see the zombies coming out of the creek behind him.
He then heard the unearthly Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz sound from the MRAP. Then another, longer buzz. Someone was still alive in there, and taking it to the zombies. The sound of the chain gun sounded louder somehow in the confines of the creek. The rattling went on for several more long bursts, but ended with a short one. He waited for more, but none were forthcoming. It wasn't because all the zombies were dead...
They arrived at the treeline moments later. He was surprised to see Lee had collected two of his guys as they ran. Now they were a team of four, though none of the men looked particularly soldierly in the face of what was behind them.
“All right, guys. We have to do two things fast. One, we have to get more shooters. Two, we need to shoot the zombies in the face as they come through these tents. Once they're in the woods, it's going to be too late. Many people can't even stay ahead of the zombies on open ground. Climbing hills will be the death of them. I want the three of you to organize firing lines up and down the valley along this treeline, do you understand? I'll be right here in the middle.”
Liam felt the butterflies in his stomach in response. Lee was putting him in charge of something major. Something that would save lives. He wanted to put on a brave face, being the youngster.
“Understood.” He gave Lee a quick Boy Scout salute, then took off at a fast jog.
He didn't really know what to do or say, but he began shouting to the throngs of people ahead of him. “All shooters to me! Form a line! Protect the kids!”
He ran up the valley. He could have easily run the other way. The way with fewer zombies! The way with fewer survivalists! He remembered Mel's words about those soldiers running off when they were needed the most. He was proud he was doing right by her. He also thought of his grandma and how she would be praying for him as he headed into the maelstrom.
As he ran he imagined he heard his mom's ring tone.
But that's impossible.
He shouted louder.
4
His first obstacle was the huge wave of frightened campers as they ran for the literal hills. The area nearest the administration building had the biggest crowd. After the initial battle between the survivalists and camp defenders, most people had huddled in the creek bed since they had nowhere else to go. Now, they ran for their lives right past the survivalists.
Liam jumped into the crowd, shouting the whole time.
“I need shooters! Follow me! Protect the kids!”
Another sixty seconds and he was through the central stream of people. He managed to pull six or seven men and women with guns out of the crowd. One was from the survivalist group, but appeared anxious to help quell the zombies.
Do I say something to him?
“OK, we're setting up a line of guns along the treeline up and down the valley. We need to hold the zombies in this valley or they're going to tear up the women and children as they go up the hill to safety.” He paused for many seconds while he tried to catch his breath.
He must have drifted because one of the men coughed to get his attention.
“Yeah, so try to grab other people with guns and stand your ground here. I'm going to continue up the valley to do the same.”
A woman he recognized, but didn't know, said, “No problem, Liam.”
As he walked off, the survivalist sidled next to him. He looked like he'd been flopping in a mud pit. He wore full camouflage gear and had attached some branches to himself for additional visual deception. But his mud had streaked in the downpour earlier. He came across as the kind of guy not happy to have his stuff ruined.
“Mind if I go with you and help?”
He wanted to say no, but he didn't have time for an argument. Killing zombies had to take priority over everything else.
“Sure, we have to hurry.”
As they ran, Liam shouted his message. From time to time, he'd stop to arrange small groups of gun owners. The whole time the survivalist shadowed him, offering no commentary or assistance.
Get lost, buddy!
If only he could order the guy away using his mind.
After another ten minutes of running Liam knew he was out of time. The sound of gunfire behind him intensified. The zombies had finished consuming survivors on the other side of the creek and were all coming across to his side.
He turned around to head back. He found a last little group of men and told them to gather more support from further up the valley, where there were no zombies. Mel's words echoed again. He could leave the battle and just go gather men in safety up that way. If he was that type of guy.
He took a deep breath. “You know what to do. Someone has to keep going up the valley to warn them and organize resistance. I'm going back to join the fight. My family is back there.”
The men nodded and were off.
I wish survival guy would volunteer to go up the valley by himself.
He began jogging back to the main fight. After running only a few moments, the man grabbed his arm and asked him to stop. Liam's rifle was slung over his shoulder while he ran; it was useless in an emergency of this sort. He knew he'd have a better chance with his pistol on his hip. He tried to be casual.
“Hold up—Liam. I want to ask you a question.”
The man was slightly taller and bulkier than him, but had a sallow and wet look about him—like he'd been suffering in a malarial jungle for a long time. He looked unnatural.
“Umm, OK.”
He tried to separate himself from him, but he wouldn't allow Liam to leave his personal space. It was intentional, but made to look innocent.
“Hey, bud. I don't mean no trouble here, but you're the Liam we're here to find, right?”
A million things swirled through his head at that moment. But the most prominent thought was how stupid he'd been the past few minutes. The survivalist stood right next to him with his rifle drawn and pointed in his direction. Not an overt threat, but the threat of a threat. It took away his own options.
“We have to keep moving,” was all he could think to say. He turned around and took a step down the valley when he heard the unmistakable sound of a reload and a bolt release on an AR15. A round was in the chamber of the gun behind him, no doubt facing right at his back.
“I don't think so.”
Liam put his arms up. He thought someone might see him and come to help, but was distraught to realize they were mostly hidden from view by dense foliage in their vicinity. The man chose this spot for a reason.
“Are you going to kill me?” He still faced away from the man.
“That depends. I was given very specific orders to kill you if I could. I'm also cleared to kill your parents i
f I find them. But my associate also said I could take you alive if you were with your grandma—he was going to give me a little something extra for you both. Don't see no grandma, though. Don't matter to me anymore. This whole valley will be dead by the end of the day. I could kill you, take that sweet antique gun you have, along with your ammo, and be a relatively rich man in the wild. Who's to say you didn't die in this zombie attack?”
Liam didn't think there was anything special about his rifle, but he considered all the men and women now running for dear life who would give anything to be able to defend themselves.
Anything.
Liam was back in the movie. His next line was scripted.
“So, who is it that wants me captured alive?”
Who is the mastermind behind all this?
“Mmm-hmm. I bet you'd like to know that. Why don't you drop that gun slowly and take a few steps away huh?”
He did as he was told, but kept talking.
“Was it Hayes? Did he send you out here?”
His gun rattled to the muddy ground. Next he dropped his magazines. Here and there he could see campers scurrying, but none were coming directly for him. No help out there.
He was violently grabbed by the man, then forced backward. He fell. Rather than slam down to the rocky soil, he got wedged between two tree trunks. He was turned so he looked up at the man. A man with his weapon pointing directly at his eyes.
“He said you were dangerous, but not very photogenic. That means ugly, kid.” He laughed. “And smart. Said you were a real weasel.” The man spat at the ground, as if in emphasis of his disdain having to say those words. “Frankly, you remind me of the little punk kids that used to make fun of my boy.” He pushed the barrel closer, “A BOY KILLED BY THIS PLAGUE! You think it's funny to destroy our only hope of a cure?”
“But I didn't do any of those things they told you.”
“SHUT UP!”
The anger was evident on the man's face. The malicious tone to his voice was no better.
“The world has gone to hell, my family's dead, and my orders are to kill some jerk kid in Missouri. Do you know what it's like to kill women and children? It changes you. It changed me—that much I know. We had to kill them and burn that whole subdivision to the ground because of you.”
Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7 Page 71