Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Hello, Sam. Or should I say Liam Peters? And welcome, Miss Victoria Hennessey.”

  A man in dark tactical clothing sat on a chair next to the bed. He was the same agent he'd seen days ago on a bridge overpass over the interstate out of St. Louis. A wave of refugees was on the highway underneath, and Special Agent Duchesne wanted to turn them all back. Liam outsmarted him and convinced his police allies to let everyone escape. He'd used the alias “Sam Stevens” to avoid giving his identity, but the agent took their photographs, and figured out the truth.

  “You? What are you doing with my Grandma?”

  Another man stood next to Duchesne. He was large and well-armed. Liam remembered him, too. He was on the bridge as the agent's bodyguard. He pointed a huge military rifle directly at Liam's chest.

  “Why don't you drop the weapons and then we'll talk?” His bodyguard put the emphasis on “drop.”

  Liam and Victoria both stacked their weapons on the floor at their feet. Liam didn't want anyone shooting with Grandma sprawled out on the bed in the middle of them all.

  At the far end of the room, near the exterior window, the red-headed woman sat on the long window sill. She was dressed in camo fatigues, including the same cap he'd seen her wear before. She was also unarmed.

  “Just don't hurt my Grandma and we won't have any problems.”

  Duchesne stood up, kicking the guns closer to his assistant. “And what if I did hurt your Grandma? What kind of problems would you make for me?”

  Liam looked at the bed, then at the man. Then back to the bed.

  “Just please don't.”

  Louder, he called out of the room. “Hayes, why don't you come in and stand over there by your secretary.”

  The woman glared, but remained silent. Hayes did as instructed, and Liam noted she put her hand on his back when he joined her.

  Duchesne slowly wound his way around the room, speaking softly. “Liam, do you have any idea the lengths I've gone...” He came to a stop right behind Liam, then spoke to Hayes instead. “Actually, I think Douglas would be a much better person to explain the length's we've gone through to get you. Don't you?”

  For the first time since he'd known him, Hayes appeared tired.

  “You serious? You want me to tell him everything?”

  “At least tell him your role. I think he'd love to know why you've been following this old lady,” he thumbed in Grandma's direction, “like a little lost puppy dog.” He laughed, though Hayes did not. “Tell him about your delightful experiments here. Go on!”

  Grandma was still asleep. Or passed out.

  Or dead.

  He studied her chest and was relieved to see it rising and falling in slow, even turns.

  Hayes didn't respond. Liam didn't know who was in charge here, but he wanted answers.

  “Hayes lies about everything. Why would you trust him?”

  That got a response.

  “I've always told you the truth. Your grandma is very important to our research into the origins of plague—”

  “Because of her age, right?”

  “Yes, we know that men and women of extreme age seem to react to the infection in a way that is very different than the younger people who get it. You saw that back at Elk Meadow. That was where I put it together for the first time. Unfortunately, that buffoon in charge of the camp let the virus escape and he set us back in our research. Who knows how many people died because of that, eh?”

  His glib attitude constantly grated at Liam.

  “OK, so the old people have something to do with the plague. Why is there a pile of them on the ground floor of this place?”

  He knew the answer, but had to ask it anyway. He saw a similar killing field back at Elk Meadow, though McMurphy assured him everyone was there as a volunteer. In a quieter voice, he preempted his own question.

  “Were they volunteers?”

  “You can't be that naïve, can you? The elderly are this planet's most important resource. Do you know how fast they're dying now that electricity is gone? Medicine is gone? Medical services are gone? So many of our age-challenged friends were literally living on borrowed time back in the Old World. They never had a chance of living in this new one. Volunteers? No. But they gave their lives doing something that could save everyone they love, so I tend to think they gave their lives happily once I explained what they were doing for us.”

  “You think all these people were already going to die, so you killed them?”

  “No! I'm not a monster. Killing them is such an unfair depiction of what we're doing to them. When we inject the virus, there is a very real chance each and every time they will live. Some of them live for a long time. I admit some of them convert right away. Those are unfortunate, but necessary. You see, the key to this whole thing is that some of them are almost able to resist the virus completely. If we can find out why, it may give us the clue we need to cure the whole population. We draw blood, do tests, send it to—”

  “But why just toss them down the hole? Don't they deserve more?”

  “I share your concern. I really do. In the camps out in the country, we could bury people with a little dignity, but that takes resources. Fuel for tractors. Manpower. Things that are in diminishing supply. We chose this place because it allowed us to operate up here and easily dispose of the unfortunate volunteers by putting them in the hotel lobby below. We felt it was more humane than tossing them out the window into the crowd of zombies below us.”

  Liam couldn't argue the point, but it didn't make it right.

  “So Grandma is important to you because she's so old. I get it. I hate that this question has popped in my head, but what's so special about her that has made you chase her so many times and keep her alive while so many other old folks are tossed aside like trash?”

  Duchesne was back by his chair. He seemed to be enjoying things. His bodyguard hadn't moved. He hadn't even lowered his weapon.

  Hayes paced in front of the window.

  “Before I tell you that, let me ask you a question. Let me ask you both a question: what kinds of medications are you on?”

  Liam looked at Hayes like he'd just stepped in a cow pie.

  “This is a serious question, kids. Let me ask you this another way. To protect medical privacy and all that. Have you ever been on medications, for any reason, longer than a week or two?”

  Liam searched his memory. For a long time, as a child, he took medication for his attention deficit disorder. He took it for years before he grew out of that particular need.

  Victoria looked down, but said nothing.

  “I'll take that to mean you both have taken some kind of medication. Now, think about your parents. Do you see them popping pills every day? I'd wager they probably do, or have in the past, or will in the future—well maybe not in our current future, but they would have. Everyone takes medications these days like it is perfectly normal and expected. Even Duchesne over there is on something, I'm sure.”

  If he was, the agent gave no indication. Liam was less hostile now that he understood the direction this was going.

  “The thing that makes your Grandma special is that she has never taken medication a day in her life. No high blood pressure pills. No cholesterol meds. Not even vitamins as best we can tell.”

  “What about pain pills? She broke her arms a few years ago. Surely she had pain pills?”

  “Undoubtedly she did, but the effects fade quickly. She only took them very short term. The main thing is that she has no cellular damage or mutation which is indicative of longer term medications so common in the world today. And, even more peculiar is that at her advanced age she has taken no medications that are so common with her peers. She's almost unique in that regard. I should know, I've examined her blood several times.”

  “So, you aren't a truck driver, are you?”

  Eons ago it seemed, Liam and Hayes discussed his job function at the CDC. He said he was in logistics, and Liam believed this to mean he was a truck driver.r />
  “What? No. I'm sorry I had to bend the truth on that, but my cover is more important than just tricking a couple of kids like you. I'm an immunologist in a world swarming with viruses. I'm too valuable to die in some futile battle against the undead.”

  “We get it. You're so important you didn't want to fight with us to get out of the city and you study the virus that destroyed the world.”

  “Yes, but I've come to understand something that my—uh, colleagues—have missed. This business with viruses started at the end of flu season in the United States. This spring, we noticed the flu wasn't petering out like it normally would as the weather warmed up and people started getting out of confined spaces with each other. The CDC, along with the World Health Organization, began doing extensive research on the phenomenon. I won't bore you with the details, but the bottom line is that we realized there were two versions of a nearly-identical strain of flu. They were identical on the surface and in behavior but the resistance of the clone was enhanced—making preventative health measures ineffective. We thought this deadly pairing could be solved before a real emergency evolved. Many nations quietly fought the flu internally, though most publicly wrote it off as a last hurrah of flu season. No one wanted to cause a panic.”

  Liam couldn't remember anything about a flu epidemic, but was a self-proclaimed news-avoider.

  “But that isn't what ended the world,” Hayes continued.

  “You aren't making any sense. What could be worse than two flu viruses working together?” Victoria inquired.

  “Because approximately a month ago, just as the flu problem was at its height, we became aware of a mystery virus already present in every man, woman and child on the planet. That virus was custom-made and it worked together with the already deadly pair to form a mutating triad. Actually, we don't know how many versions are out there now.”

  Liam finally understood. “I'm going to take a wild guess. You had something to do with the mystery virus, didn't you?”

  “I understand why you hate me, Liam. And Victoria; I shot you, after all. But you see now the stakes I was dealing with. Why nothing can get in the way of understanding this unholy trinity of viruses ravaging the planet. I assure you I had nothing to do with the mystery virus.”

  He hesitated as he finished his sentence.

  Victoria spoke up, “But?”

  Hayes looked at her as he spoke. “But, I know who created the cloned flu virus.”

  Finally. We're getting somewhere.

  “So who ended the world?” she asked.

  “The people who released the mystery virus.”

  “You mean flu virus.”

  “No, the virus we can't identify.”

  “I'm not following you, Hayes,” Victoria lamented.

  “The thing my colleagues don't realize is that the second version of the flu was actually a human-created clone. It was designed very cleverly to be more effective at delivering its payload. Very nearly 100% effective, I'm afraid. Almost impossible to detect the human signature. If nature had been left to take its course, the clone flu would have compounded flu season and become a deadly, but manageable, plague upon mankind. It wouldn't have led to...what we have now.”

  “Are you saying there are two man-made viruses working together out there?” Liam started to understand the problem. Humans always seemed to be scarier in their actions than Mother Nature. Even the zombies eventually paled next to the potential for trouble from other men and women.

  “No, I'm not.”

  “But you just said—”

  “No! I said there's a man-made clone flu virus and a mystery virus. We can't figure out how the mystery virus was made.”

  Oh. Crap.

  4

  “A great story, Hayes. But as usual, you leave out the highlights.”

  Hayes glared at him, but refused to be baited.

  “OK, I'll fill in the blanks if you're going to be shy.” He stood up again, but stayed close to his tall friend. “We'll start with all the dead bodies in this building. Hayes' little petting zoo.” He pointed to the floor. “Riverside? You want to tell them why I had to fight to get into Riverside?”

  Duchesne gave a withering look at Hayes, and that seemed to do it.

  Hayes laughed tightly.

  “Riverside. That's this place. I was assigned to an Army unit when things began to fall apart. I guess the thinking was the military would protect me while I did my work. In the beginning, they were annoyingly strict on following protocol—even refusing to let me cross that bridge when you two saw me talking with them over the Mississippi River. But in a world of fewer and fewer resources, the Army pulled more and more of my protectors away until I was left with only a fraction of what was necessary to guard an operation of the scale I needed. Rules got lax. Orders were lost. I guarded those remaining resources jealously. As communications became sporadic, I explained what I was doing to cure the plague and the remaining men and women agreed to follow my orders until the end. Today, they met that end.”

  “Killed by the Marines?” Liam asked.

  “Nope. The Marines were collateral damage. Most of them died down below, fighting to get in. They came up here and didn't know friend from foe—killed everyone they could—but there weren't enough of them. Most of the killing was by the NIS guys. National Internal Security. One of the labyrinthine layers of government contractors and security. Sort of the Secret Service for the Secret Service. Even talking about them can get me killed, but seeing as one of them is sitting right in this room, I'm not going to worry about it.” He nodded at Duchesne. “These boys came in to stop my research. They're the ones who killed both the Marines and the Army remnant protecting me—my research.”

  Duchesne made a clicking noise with his tongue. “No, that's not it at all. Tell them who you really are.” The two men stared at each other for a long few seconds before Hayes looked away.

  “I'm NIS, too. At least I started out with them.” He turned to Liam, “I told you back at your house I was able to pause the hit put out on your family. I could do that because I was originally part of the team that put the list together. But the virus was the priority. Killing one family on the whims of some politician held no interest for me. So I stopped it.”

  “You tried to stop it. You should know better than anyone, a top-level directive can't be stopped,” Duchesne mused.

  Liam was naturally suspicious of government functionaries, and he couldn't tell who was telling the truth here. He had several questions he wanted to ask, but had to stay focused on what was happening in the room. “So you're saying that government contractors came in and killed government soldiers and Marines, just so they could take my grandma?”

  “No, you fool. I'm saying they were here to kill the 'rogue unit' and usurp my research. Bring it back on the reservation. The only reason they're still here is your Grandma. They couldn't have known she'd be here.”

  “Yes, she's a peculiar piece of research. A real coup. After all the killing and dying getting in here, I'm trying to make this trip worthwhile to my bosses. My colleagues and I were discussing her fate when you two wandered in.”

  Victoria addressed Hayes, “But would it kill you to go back to doing research with the government? Surely you'd have more resources than you do out here by yourself?”

  He seemed reluctant to answer.

  “Hayes?”

  Liam was about to ask him, too, but Duchesne beat him. “Why don't you tell these fine kids what this is really all about?”

  The red-headed woman hopped off the sill, and stood next to Hayes. She wrapped her arm around his waist, bolstering him. Then she said, “Those men are trying to destroy all of humanity. We are trying to save what's left of it.”

  “This is Jane. She's absolutely right.” He let out a pained sigh. “There are three viruses out there. By a mad piece of luck, the flu this year was a particularly nasty strain. It was similar, in many respects, to the Spanish Flu of 1918. That killed millions, though today, with
better medicine and heath care, it wasn't on track to even be noticed—a few extra sick here or there. But someone cloned that virus; made it an even more efficient killer. If things had gone as planned, it would have killed or sickened hundreds of millions worldwide. A terrible plague, yes, but one we could have survived.”

  After too long a delay, Duchesne prodded him, “But?”

  “But we realized, too late I'm afraid, there was a third virus floating around. It was several orders of magnitude smaller than any living organism we knew about. We weren't looking for it. We really only know of it second-hand, even now. We can see its effects, but it's beyond our ability to see it with our equipment.”

  His brow furrowed. “And...unfortunately for you and me and billions of others...the clone virus was adversely affected by the theoretical one—we dubbed it the Quantum Virus because of its size. Our research teams watched as the flu virus was modified in various ways, depending on geography. We've studied dozens of zombies from around the world, each with their own adaptations based on where they originated.”

  Hayes let out another long sigh.

  Liam was horrified, even though he'd seen the Chicago climbing zombies.

  “In the end, instead of a manageable disease sickening hundreds of millions, it became a global extinction threat. It could kill every single person on the planet. Only dumb luck saved us. It was released so late in flu season it didn't have time to spread around to everyone through the typical coughing and sneezing.”

  Victoria's interest was medicine, so she pressed for answers. “But the virus is everywhere. Look around. Look out your window. There's nowhere the virus hasn't spread. So how can we have been saved?”

  “What you see now is the vector of transmission for the Quantum Virus—the one they dubbed Extra-Ebola. It's spread primarily through saliva—biting. Anyone infected with it dies, but becomes desperate to continue ingesting more of the virus in the bloodstream. It wants to be spread into every living human and it uses the human host as the most efficient means of that transmission. It wants to spread into other animals, too, but fortunately there aren't many animals the stupid things can catch.”