Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Leave us be. We're dead, can't you see that? We're all dead...” His voice trailed away as he watched the zombies hone in.

  From nearby, Lana called out to Liam. “Move your asses, Liam and Victoria. Now!”

  She was still shooting, though only with single shots at anything that got too close. The main group of zombie runners was still a rock's throw away. They should be able to outpace them, if he ran right away.

  Victoria did what needed to be done. She pulled Liam's arm and got him moving.

  “God bless you,” she said to the couple as they left.

  “Ha!” the man laughed. “God left us a long time before this.”

  Victoria pulled harder. “Run.”

  As they got up to speed they ran through the shallow water and linked up with Jason and Lana, along with the few shooters still able to run and fire a gun.

  “Liam, thanks for getting those things off of us.”

  “I'm sorry I brought them down here. I didn't know you'd be here.”

  Jason laughed as he ran. “Yeah, we didn't plan this very well, did we? But we did OK.”

  He stopped and surveyed the runners behind. Liam was tempted to turn around, too, as he knew the pair of survivors would soon be overcome, but Victoria seemed to sense his thoughts. She kept her arm on his and continued to pull him.

  He looked at her. “You think I was going to stop, don't you?” Even though it was true, he thought it was worth asking.

  “I know you pretty well, now. It doesn't come naturally to let someone go. I expected you to go back there and beat those zombies with the butt of your gun.” She laughed, but it was forced.

  “Yeah, I thought about it. But I can't save someone who won't try to save themselves.”

  They ran in silence for many minutes, Liam was lost in own thoughts when Jason ran by at a slightly faster pace.

  “I need to get ahead and see how my people are doing.”

  “We'll take of things back here,” Lana replied.

  The next hour was a blur for Liam. Every ten minutes or so he would pass another survivor who had reached the end of their endurance. Most simply laid down to wait for the end. One put himself in a small side tunnel, armed to the teeth. Liam thought his plan was pretty good, except that the further they ran the shallower the drainage became. Instead of two hundred feet across, it was now scarcely fifty and had little depth. They could almost see into the nearby houses as they ran along. Each time they shot, a zombie or two would wander along to investigate. Then they would naturally find their way into the storm sewer waterway. He would run out of bullets before the number of zombies reached zero.

  As if that's ever gonna happen.

  Also, more runners had joined the pursuit the further into the system they got. There was no longer a chain link fence along the edge. Anyone could walk right in. Or run.

  By the time they reached the end of the open-air portion of the river, dusk had fallen. The massive waterway was now just an industrial-sized storm drain that ended at the gaping maw of three huge tunnels. They'd have to continue by walking underground.

  Jason stood next to the left tunnel.

  As Liam walked up, he panted wildly. There'd been plenty of water along the way, but almost no one was willing to drink from the sewer. The smell alone was enough to dissuade him, but the odd coloration of the water backed his reasoning.

  He leaned on Victoria, or she leaned on him. He didn't care.

  “This way, guys. We're almost there. Just another mile.”

  Liam didn't say anything, nor did Victoria.

  He thought he heard Jason lament some of his people took the wrong tunnel, but he couldn't be sure. His mom led them into the darkness. She had the foresight to bring a small light. Or maybe it was on her rifle. It didn't matter.

  His head was spinning madly as the howling behind them began.

  Ahead, encouragement from the race spectators.

  I can do it, dad.

  Chapter 7: Forest Park

  Liam woke up in bed. More like a cot. It took him a few minutes to get his bearings, understand he was inside a huge circus-sized tent, and sit up to get his first look.

  Rows and rows of oversized cots were filled with the sick and injured. A few were strapped in, suggesting they'd been bitten by zombies or were otherwise possibly infected. If the staff running the place knew they were infected, they would have taken them out and terminated them before they could pass the communicable disease via their teeth. He was thankful he wasn't under any restraints.

  Most of the patients he recognized, by sight anyway, as being from his group. Jason and his Polar Bears. They stood out by their ragged clothing and gaunt features. Most were sound asleep, despite the general noise within the confined space of the tent.

  He'd been in such a tent before. Back at Elk Meadow—the tent where he witnessed the elderly Bart get deliberately infected so the medical team could watch how it affected him. That elicited a ripple of fear, but he took comfort that there were so many people of such different ages that this couldn't possibly be the same situation.

  Next to him, also in bed, he saw the sleeping form of Victoria. He'd started to think she was some kind of superhero by how well she held up in the stresses of everything. She could outrun him, outshoot him, she was super smart, and she was about a hundred times better looking than he was. She was a thousand miles from her own family, yet she never seemed to let it get her down. And now, finally, she was down for the count, just like him.

  A couple women huddled over a computer on a mobile metal stand. Liam likened it to an audio/video cart from his high school. This one was probably being used for medical records…

  Or they're playing solitaire.

  In a world where half the population are zombies, does anyone care about keeping track of patient records? Does privacy exist anymore? Was he listed in those computer records? Maybe there was a little warning flag that said “If you find this boy, called 1-800-NIS-GETU.” He thought that sounded totally feasible.

  “Liam,” his mom called to him from near the medical cart. Not loud enough to wake the numerous sleeping forms nearby, but loud enough he could hear her. When she made her way to his bedside, she spoke softly.

  “I shouldn't have shouted like that. I'm happy to see you awake.”

  “Where are we? What happened?”

  “We had a long night is what happened. We spent hours wandering those tunnels, looking for the way out, here in the park. A few wrong turns and a few zombies made for a terrible trip. When we finally made it out, and were led by some kindly guards to this tent, you kids both plopped down and slept the sleep of the dead.”

  “What about you?”

  “Oh, I slept, trust me. But I got up with the sunrise to see if I could help any of these nurses. It turns out this is a proper medical facility, the staff at least, and they have both the manpower and know-how to take care of things without my help.”

  Thinking back to his dad's letter, and his family's home life before the sirens, if his dad was the “gun guy” in their clandestine preparations, his mom was the “medic” and often carried a medical kit and treated minor injuries on their family outings. Liam never thought to ask if it was a hobby or if she had some formal training. Back then, he didn't care. It was just something that was. She was adept at temporarily fixing his dad's broken leg, even if it later killed him…

  He wished his dad was in a bed here, too.

  “Is Victoria OK?” He looked at his girlfriend as he said it.

  “I'm sure she's fine. Once we made it into the tunnels we managed not to lose anyone.” She appeared to think that over. “Actually, Jason said some of his people went down a wrong tunnel right at the beginning. He stayed at the exit of the tunnels to wait for them. I think he wanted to go back in, but he was as exhausted as everyone else. Not in any shape to be a hero.”

  He whispered his next words. “Do these people know who we are?”

  Lana nodded. “I wanted to give th
em fake names, but they took our pictures before we knew what was happening. They say it's the only way they can keep track of their numbers in the park, but they had my name and other medical information on their computers before I shut my eyes to sleep. They called me by name when they did rounds. Our identities are known. It's unclear whether they know anything else.”

  She didn't have to remind him there was a list of all his family members—targets of the NIS. Douglas Hayes said he called off the hit squads, but that was before he himself was targeted. There was no way to know whether the order still existed to terminate everyone related to him. Those left alive.

  He put his feet on the trampled grass below the cot. Thankfully no one had stripped him of his clothing, or shoes. He really did just throw himself down so he could sleep.

  “I'm dying of thirst.”

  “Plenty of water here. Follow me.”

  He rose to follow. The temptation was there to rouse Victoria, but he knew the rule—never wake sleeping babies, or sleeping girlfriends. She looked so peaceful when the muscles in her face relaxed. He'd once thought she looked even more beautiful when she slept. It was the carefree look she would have had if the zombies had never arrived. But he also remembered she had her own problems back in Colorado before everything went to crap. No matter. Whatever stresses she carried, he was going to let her sleep without them for a little while longer.

  2

  “Ah, look who it is, our hero,” Lana said as she guided Liam to the table filled with water bottles. She was indicating the Asian woman in clean teal hospital scrubs standing at the same table.

  “Doctor Yu.”

  The woman turned. Liam guessed she was Japanese, though he couldn't be sure.

  “Yes? Is everything OK?”

  “Oh, there's not an emergency.”

  Liam listened but was focused on the water bottles. The closer he got to his drink, the less he cared about anything else happening in the tent. He spun off the top and planted the bottle on his lips.

  For the next thirty seconds a nuclear bomb couldn't divert him from his bottle.

  “Liam?”

  His mom said something.

  She's calling you!

  “Yes?”

  “Liam. This is Doctor Yu. Did you hear me? She helped us all last night. She whipped up a recovery drink concoction that we all drank before we went to sleep.”

  He had no recollection of drinking anything last night.

  The doctor smiled. She was young—he expected a gray-haired and wise doctor, but she was probably in her thirties. Her black hair peeked out of a medical head covering, though he didn't see any surgical suites where such a thing would be necessary.

  “Hi, Liam. I was telling your mother I'm surprised you're up and around, but I'm happy to have helped. Too many of us aren't getting proper nutrition, and it sounded like you had an amazing run to safety.”

  That was statement was filled with nuance. The journey from the cliff down south saw him do stupid things and heroic things. Unsure if that made him an idiot or a hero, he could only nod his head in thanks.

  His mom, filling in for him, explained how he drew off the infected in the drainage system and further noted the speed of the pursuit. That got the doctor's attention.

  “Wait, you say the infected can run? We haven't seen that here. Or, I haven't. I haven't been outside the perimeter since the beginning.”

  He wondered what her story was, but right now he didn't care. “There are lots of different kinds of zombies, ma'am, uh, Doctor. There are runners. Climbers. Sleepwalkers. A few others. And there's one I call an Arizona—alpha zombie—because it can do all of the above.”

  The look on her face made him rewind his words.

  Oh yeah, I said the magic “Z” word.

  He couldn't imagine how anyone could deny the obvious. These weren't just infected humans. They were out-and-out zombies. He was tired of people denying the truth.

  “Zombies, Doctor. They're zombies.” He nodded his head vigorously as he grabbed another water bottle. They were just sitting there for the taking, he wasn't going to be shy.

  She gave him a dubious look. “The CDC is here. Their guidance has been that these people are stricken with a virulent version of Ebola—”

  “And two flu viruses, yes, I know.” Liam had listened to Douglas Hayes explain all of it to him.

  The doctor appeared even more taken aback. She looked around. “How do you know that? They said that was some kind of national secret. The hospital administration only told a few of us doctors, in strictest confidence.”

  Liam wasn't interested in playing games. He was too tired. He'd seen too much of the secretive world of Zombie Apocalypse medicine.

  “Secret? Doesn't anyone share medical breakthroughs? There are three viruses fighting each other—or working together, they weren't clear on that. My grandma was infected by a researcher, but here's the funny thing, she's still alive. And kicking. It didn't affect her. It's because she's 104. Too old to get infected,” he laughed sarcastically. “It all makes sense, am I right?”

  Both women were looking at him like he'd just detached his own head, though he guessed his mom's look was because he sounded like a teenaged jerk, again.

  “How do you know all that? I don't even know all that,” the doctor said in a quiet, if incredulous, voice.

  “The CDC didn't tell you?”

  “The CDC is up in the hospital.” She pointed out of the tent, as if he could see it. “I've been down here in containment.”

  Uh oh.

  “Containment? We're in some kind of quarantine?”

  The doctor seemed to make a decision. “You can see the place on our way to the tower. You have to share your information with the lead medical team. This might be the breakthrough they've been searching for.”

  “You aren't part of the team looking for a cure?”

  “No, but isn't everyone searching for it? If you have even the slightest chance of telling them something new, I'm going to get you up there. Follow me.”

  She pulled off her head covering and began to unravel herself from her outer layer of scrubs. Much to his surprise she wore simple cargo shorts and a light-blue t-shirt with the St. Louis Blues hockey team logo on it.

  When she saw him looking at it, she remarked, “I'm down to the last of my clean clothes.” Then she moved toward the exit.

  He thought back to that first encounter with the mock CDC group under the Arch. They pretended to be completely in the dark about everything related to the cure. Even claimed the CDC itself was hacked to remove any references to the plague, or how it might be cured. Now this doctor wanted to take him to meet more researchers looking for that same thing. Was it another trap?

  His imagination was shifting into high gear. He had to ground himself…

  They walked right by Victoria and he knew what he'd have to do.

  “I want to take my...” He wanted to say girlfriend, but he had no idea where he was, or what these people were all about. His information was in the medical system, the NIS undoubtedly has access to those records, and if they wanted him he would be easy to find. There might not be a tomorrow and a simple girlfriend might be refused as non-essential to a CDC meet-n-greet.

  “I want to take my wife with me.” He pointed to Victoria. She was still soundly sleeping under a light blanket.

  The doctor and his mom both seemed surprised, but his mom didn't voice the question that was evidently on her lips.

  “Sure. She is more than welcome to go with you.”

  Damn right she is.

  3

  He'd been given privacy to wake Victoria. He sat on the edge of her cot, and drank her in for as long as he dared.

  An older gentleman was in the next cot reading a book. He looked fine, except for the straps peeking out from underneath his blanket. His arms were free, and he could sit up, but he couldn't get out of bed. His eyes went back to Victoria before he caught the man's attention. Time to bring her back to
this reality.

  “Victoria. Wake up,” he cooed softly.

  As he watched, sleeping and beautiful Victoria transformed into waking “zombie mode” Victoria. Still pretty, despite vestiges of the violence that had visited her face the past few weeks. She turned serious as she sat up on her elbows.

  “What's wrong?”

  “You're not going to believe this...”

  He helped her out of bed—she had also left her yellow running shoes on. He grabbed his backpack, stuffed it with waters, then they hefted their rifles over their shoulders. He walked her to the exit in a hurry. When he left the tent he was taken aback at the size of the refugee camp sprawled around him.

  “Holy Cow.” Victoria stopped to adjust to the morning sunshine while they both surveyed the scene.

  It went on as far as the eye could see in the once-pristine urban parkland. The tent sat on a hilltop near the middle of the park grounds, surrounded by a razor wire. To his left he could see ball fields. Ahead of him, the municipal golf course. To his right, more ball fields. All filled with people. Some had brought tents or tarps, but many milled around on their feet or sat in groups. Cooking fires smoldered, and half-cut trees dotted the scene.

  Beyond the golf course and the park boundary, he saw a wall of low skyscrapers. The red medical cross on the tallest gave him his first clue where they were heading. The doctor had mentioned a tower.

  “Those! Those are the buildings where I worked. All those are hospitals.” She pointed to a line of six or seven buildings on the edge of the park.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her hand as they walked through an open razor wire gate, toward his mom and the doctor. The main road had been kept clear for foot traffic, and they'd made it twenty or thirty yards in the direction of the buildings already.

  “Uh, I should mention...I told the doctor you were my...” He suddenly felt very guilty, and maybe a little childish.

  “What? You tell her I was your bodyguard?” she giggled.

  “No, something else,” he said sheepishly.

  “I was your...sister?”

  They looked nothing alike, but maybe that wasn't too far off the mark. It was probably smarter than what he did tell her.