Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  But this time, he literally had no idea whatsoever how to escape this fix. He wanted to dish off that problem to someone else for a change. The only problem was they were already a man down—Clarence, their leader, was missing.

  He wasn't reassured by the look he got in return.

  Liam was distracted by a sudden burst of noise. The zombies seemed to scream as one. He felt a hand on his back—Victoria—seeming to convey a dictionary's worth of messaging in its simultaneous firmness and gentleness. It was a caring and strength which said, “This is bad, but we're in this together.”

  Liam looked to the commotion. Across the wide road which marked the middle path linking the entrance with the intersection at the middle of the room as well as the drop out room, he saw three figures standing on the nearest tank. It was almost a mirror image of his own tank—currently with three forms on the top. But the three girls were distinctive with their diminutive size and fancy braids.

  “They made it,” he shouted.

  The hand on his back passed on another subtle message. It told him to look the other way, toward the entrance. His eyes focused on a sorry-looking group of soldiers. They wore tattered uniforms, a few had thread-bare hats, but most just had ragged heads of hair. They walked as a group, as if they were still in the Army, though Liam knew it has to be a coincidence. The other zombies also seemed to give the soldiers some space, though that had to be coincidence.

  Liam, out of ideas and attempting to counter the abject terror he felt upon seeing them, simply said, “Well, I guess we know what happened to those desecrated graves.”

  The hand on his back remained silent.

  3

  “Liam! Victoria!” One of the girls from across the aisle yelled for them.

  Liam waved.

  Blue shouted as loud as possible, but it barely made it across the hundred or so yelling zombies between them. She pointed into the room, toward the fire. She said something he missed, but he heard her last words, “—that way!” He gave her a thumbs up, and the three girls immediately bounded to the tank next to them.

  “I guess we're going that way.” He was talking to Victoria, but Dave heard him and shouted down to Travis they were leaving. Liam held Victoria's hand as they waited for the men to come out of the tank.

  “You ready to go back in?” He wasn't. He hoped she would counter his misgivings about going back into the meat of the room they'd just spent time escaping.

  She took his other hand and as they stood there in the midst of the chaos, she started to pray. She said it quietly, almost as if she was ashamed of the act. When she was done, she explained why.

  “I prayed and I wished upon a star and blew out my birthday candles. I couldn't let you hear my wish or it wouldn't come true.” She smiled, and Liam couldn't tell if she was serious or joking. In the end, it didn't matter. They would need all the help they could get.

  “Amen,” he said.

  As was her way, she took off while he stood there with a dumb look on his face. He followed her to the next tank, though he turned back to confirm Travis had indeed come out.

  Deeper into the room they went, retracing the steps they'd taken before the zombies arrived. The men caught up, their rifles slung over their shoulders.

  “Look for Clarence! He has to be here, somewhere.”

  Liam hadn't been looking down for a while. He made his jumps, and ignored everything below. If Clarence was down there, he'd better show up. And yet, he peeked down once and came to the conclusion if the man was down there, he was already dead. The spaces between the tanks was now completely stuffed with zombies dressed like civilians of all stripes who had made a wrong turn at the fake blood factory. He forced himself to believe it was fake blood.

  They reached the middle of the room. On their right was the main corridor which Liam labeled the north-south road. The Valkyrie was still parked where they'd left it. In front of them was the east-west road with the railroad tracks. It was about forty feet across, though on the near corner there was one of the large columns holding up the ceiling.

  While the roadway was far from empty, Liam saw their chance. He waited for Travis and Dave to reach the last tank, then laid out his plan. In the back of his head he wondered if he was stating the obvious, or if it was really a good plan that the others hadn't considered.

  “We have to cross this space. You two help us get across with your guns, and we'll help you get across with our—” He suddenly felt very inadequate. The men had powerful rifles, while he held a little wooden spear. Victoria held an even less beefy piece of coffin wood.

  You go to war with the army you have...

  He didn't give anyone a chance to think about it. Each second they delayed, the more zombies would see them and move in their direction.

  He found the first zombie as he hit the rocky ground. He thrust his spear through its face, then pulled it back out with authority. The man wore a lime-green light jacket—a fact he found important at the time. Victoria hit the ground as he stepped a half a dozen steps toward the middle of the road. A small child was in his way and he hesitated for half a second before doing the deed.

  I hate the Apocalypse.

  Victoria surged ahead, taking the next zombie. The shard of wood she carried went into the flesh of the older woman, but she squealed at the impact, then moaned as she pulled it out. Without a sideways glance to him, she yelled, “Splinters!” and kept going.

  Travis and Dave used the time to prepare their rifles. Two near-simultaneous shots rang out, downing two zombies in front of them.

  Liam pushed on, keeping up with Victoria. They each cleared two more zombies, then they reached the next row of tanks. Victoria climbed up, but he stood his ground. Someone would have to—

  Nope!

  There were too many. He wanted to stand in the breech and clear the gap for the men to cross, but that was impossible. He scrambled up the tank and found Victoria looking back at the men, motioning for them to get across.

  He was tempted to wave them off, but he knew this was their only chance. If they were really lucky, they might be able to fight their way across.

  Victoria, perhaps sensing his thoughts, held fast to his arm.

  He turned to her. “Not this time. This little spear can't help. If only they'd given you your gun back.”

  It brought him no comfort to know the men had been wrong in taking it away. No one could trust anyone these days. But in this case, it cost them.

  He stared across the gap, watching as the roadway filled up with more of the infected. While he wavered between running some more or yelling something encouraging to the two men, the dead soldiers walked around the corner. They'd come down the middle of the room, and now turned down the cross street.

  Liam gave the two men a lot of respect. He would be unloading his rifle right about now, but they were more restrained. “We'll catch up!” Dave yelled. They waved at Liam as if telling him to keep going. They ran and jumped along the column of tanks, headed toward the large vault door at the end. Liam wondered if it would open for these Patriots. He doubted it.

  Victoria pulled him. The order of the day continued to be: run for your life!

  4

  They jumped tank after tank, heading in the direction given by the triplets. He had no idea what they planned to do once they reached the end of the line, but he was relieved to see they had managed to cross the wide cross street, just like he and Victoria had done.

  They tried to yell out to Clarence, who had to be in one of the tanks on which they ran, but he didn't pop out. There was no way to check them all and still outpace the growing horde. Zombies were everywhere around them, but thickest behind.

  And what was ahead? A stone wall with one hole that led to a room full of desecrated remains and sky lights in the rock ceiling with no view of the sky.

  Still, he searched for the means of escape.

  Front door was jammed with the infected. Scratch.

  The back door had no exits. Scratch.r />
  The vault door didn't open. Scratch.

  The railroad tracks had to go somewhere...

  He began to see where the triplets were going with this. They'd been on that side of the room. Maybe they found an exit.

  He reached the last tank just as the girls dodged a zombie and ran into the drop out room.

  Suicide? That's their plan?

  Victoria ran up against him. She, too, saw where the girls had run. There were only a few lingering zombies in the last row. It was now or never.

  In his ear, she asked, “Do we follow them?”

  It was time for the hero to make his choice. He saw no reason to follow them, but he thought back to all the strange coincidences which drove them all together. He found all three sisters in mysterious circumstances. Perhaps dumb luck. Or maybe something else.

  But something, for sure.

  “Let's follow. Don't ask me why, cuz I don't know. Call it faith.”

  He was down in a moment. He speared the closest zombie as Victoria hit the ground next to him. She also used her makeshift spear, but it ran through the neck of her target. She yanked it out and pushed it away instead. They ran for the opening with no room to spare. Liam was unsurprised to see some of the undead soldiers walking down the main aisle as if they had been tracking them.

  “Hurry! Inside.”

  The light of the tank hall reached into the drop out room, but without the flashlights of the Patriots, it was more dark than light. Liam had to do a double take when he saw one of the triplets rise up into the darkness on the ceiling.

  “What the?”

  He ran over to the hole, his eyes trying to adjust to the increasing darkness.

  He saw the dark shapes of the three girls above him. They each straddled the rough cut hole like they were climbing a chimney. There was enough room for all three of them.

  “What the hell are you doing? Is this your plan? To die in here?”

  Black called down. “No dummy. There's eight feet of earth above us. We just have to dig through.” She paused while she adjusted her footing and climbed another foot. “What are you waiting for? Fight or die,” she said. “Start digging a grave if you want to live.”

  Liam was mortified. He stepped back, so he couldn't see the girls. He noticed they had a piece of a broken casket below the hole. They'd used it to climb up.

  Victoria grabbed the box, moved it to the next hole, then stood there looking at him.

  “What are you waiting for? I need you to pull me up.”

  He turned back to the opening—the soldiers ambled ever closer. Other zombies hovered behind the first cadre of the old soldiers. He imagined it was a sign of respect, but maybe they were lined up by speed.

  He got up onto the casket, put his spear into the grasp of his belt, then pulled himself up into the grave with a boost from Victoria. The limestone opening was perfectly spaced so he could put a foot on each side and hold himself in the gap. Victoria stepped up on the box below him, looked once over her shoulder, then she grabbed for his hands. As he straddled the rock faces, he held her in his arms.

  “Don't pull me up yet.”

  She hung for a second, then she used her feet to kick over the box below her.

  “OK, now would be good. Hurry!”

  Liam's strength ran hot and cold. He felt very drained as she hung on. But the shadows on the rocks below suggested the zombies were close. Her life was literally in his hands. He pulled with everything he had. When she was high enough, he pulled her into his chest and she grabbed hold of his body. Then she aligned her legs so she also straddled the grave.

  “Climb!”

  It really didn't need to be said, but he said it anyway.

  They managed to climb all the way up to the wooden blockage they'd seen earlier when they had flashlights. The air was cold, like death, despite the heat of the room they'd just been in. He felt a chill rock his body as his sweat cooled on his skin.

  He used his spear to pierce the wooden roof. It was very thin plywood. Within a few minutes, they had the plywood removed. It dropped to the floor, and now they had raw dirt above them. An image popped into his mind of all the dirt falling from above, pushing both of them down to the floor, but that didn't happen. It was packed too tightly.

  Below, the dark shadows hovered. His eyes took time to adjust, but soon he could see the soldiers packed tight directly below—arms up, straining for prey.

  Victoria took one end of the narrow grave and Liam planted himself on the other. He had his spear, and she had her makeshift wooden poker. Together they began thrusting up into the dirt. It fell in clumps on top of them, then down onto the zombies standing below.

  “Uh oh. Let's say by some miracle we get through all this dirt. It's just going to make a pile below us and those things are going to climb up here and get us. Wouldn't that be a funny way to die?”

  “We can't worry about it now. We have no choices anymore. Fight or die, right?”

  She was right of course, though he was left scratching his head how he had allowed this to happen.

  Maybe this was the only possible way out. If that was true, the triplets may have just saved their lives.

  If not, at least we'll already be in our graves when we die.

  Small comfort.

  5

  Hours ticked by, though time lost all meaning in the insufferably cramped space. With each thrust of his spear, Liam felt himself losing steam. The cool he had felt upon climbing into the upside down grave had long since given way to extreme heat. The heat of exertion, yes, but also the heat of stress and the pressure of standing with legs spread across the gap for hours on end. He'd had no water for hours, and had sweat out buckets since.

  “Hey! Kid! I don't hear that spear.”

  He snapped out of his stupor. He'd been staring upward, but he wasn't moving his digging implement. Victoria, without knowing it, may have saved his life—again. It was becoming a regular thing with him as they pushed higher. He was drifting.

  “Don't call me kid, kid.” He let out a raspy laugh.

  “Don't fall asleep!” She yelled it, more for the shock value than any real need. It did help him focus.

  The pile of dirt below was getting higher. He could sense, rather than see, they'd made a lot of progress upward. His feet were now spread across the gap into the dirt walls, instead of the rock layers below. That at least gave his feet some relief. But not his legs. Or his arms. His arms were screaming louder than the sirens on day one.

  Another heft upward with the spear released a little more dirt. He'd gotten good at closing his eyes as the debris came down, but this time he was too slow and some of the dirt got in his eyes. It surprised him he had almost no tears in his eyes to wash it away.

  He coughed. There was a lot of dust in the air. The floor beneath them was hard to make out between the darkness, the dead standing there, and the dust itself.

  “Hey—” He coughed violently. Speaking while inhaling the dust nearly made him fall.

  When he settled back down, he finally got it out. “We uh, we might be getting close. Dry dust from up top can only mean we are reaching the surface.”

  “Keep digging.” She sounded tired, but her voice remained strong. He could no longer see her at all, though she was only a couple feet away. He could tell by her voice she was a little lower than him, but he wasn't surprised given the low quality wood she was using to crack soil over her head. He had unwittingly taken a solid tool for the task, the sharp edge of the spear had long since been worn down.

  He braced himself for another push upward.

  “This is it,” he said without enthusiasm.

  “You've said that the last 100 times.”

  “And this time I'm going to be right.” It was the only thing that kept him going. The supreme thought that one of these times, he was going to poke through the sod and end this nightmare.

  By returning to the regular nightmare of the topside Apocalypse.

  Everything is crap now.<
br />
  His psyche was at low tide. Which was why he was so surprised when he felt his spear go up and out through the top. When he pulled it back down, he closed his eyes as the dirt and dust coated his head and face. Then he opened his eyes and was rewarded with the piercing ray of light coming through a tiny hole.

  “Liam?” His name was an echo.

  “Liam!”

  “What?”

  “You're staring up. Are you in there?”

  With even the drip of light coming through, Victoria was able to see what she was doing and clear a section of the dirt on her side so she could reach the top. Together, they widened the hole so they would fit through.

  Liam hesitated.

  “What is it?”

  “I don't know if I can lift my arms above my head one more time. And to get out through that hole...”

  “We'll need our arms. OK, let's rest for a minute.”

  Liam wasn't going to argue, but he really wanted to do more than rest. He wanted to sleep. He tried to lean back against the rear wall of the grave so he could rest his upper body.

  “Stay with me. Don't you dare.”

  “Huh?” He knew what she wanted of him, but he really needed to just take a little breather.

  “Liam, dammit, stay with me!”

  That got his attention. “Why Victoria, I've never heard you cuss like that.” He knew that was a half-truth. She normally was very reserved in her off-color commentary, though she did lay down some foul language when they escaped the city and thought Grandma had died. “It isn't very ladylike.”

  He was joking with her, but he saw the smile on her face too. She pulled out the big guns to keep him awake.

  “Are you ready to get out of this grave? I sure as hell am.”

  Liam, ever smiling, only replied with a long, “Umm,” as in, “Umm, I'm gonna tell.”

  He had to admit, if she was trying to goad him into trying to climb, it worked. Not because of what she said, but that she'd said it at all. Her minor breach of language etiquette told him she was seriously worried about him.