Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Nope. I said you were my wife.”

  She was quiet for several seconds, obviously thinking of the implications.

  “They have our information, Victoria. They took our pictures and have our names and all I could think of was whether the NIS was going to come in and kill us, and I just thought—”

  Victoria stopped. “It's OK. Really.” She smiled a big smile, though Liam always noticed the missing upper tooth she'd lost at the bombing of his house. “That was pretty smart. It might throw them off the trail a little bit.”

  “Well, they have our pictures and our names...” He tried to unravel his own excuse.

  “Liam.” She looked directly into his eyes. “You did good. I think it's kind of cute you'd think of that, rather than make me your sister. Imagine the horror of the doc if she saw us doing this—”

  She gave him one of her patented heavenly-but-short kisses, then grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

  “Of course, you know, it's just pretend. Right? You're going to have to court me properly if you want my hand in marriage.” She squeezed his hand with hers, as if to emphasize the point.

  They were walking toward more trouble, but he felt infinitely better than he had moments before. When they caught up to the two women, he was positively bubbly.

  Doctor Yu, seeing them come alongside her, and how happy Liam was, made an apparent medical diagnosis. “Wow, you two newlyweds don't fit in this place at all. Maybe I should get married.” She laughed, though it was tempered by the many sad-looking people around them.

  That finally deflated his own buoyancy.

  “You can't appreciate this place until you're up in the tower. It's huge.”

  “How are all these people surviving? Who's feeding them? Protecting them?”

  “You mean protecting us. All this is protected by an outer defense ring of barriers, armed citizens, and police around the park to keep the sick from making it in and spreading the infection.”

  “What about the inside? Are there no infections from inside the camp?”

  “That's why we have the medical stations in those tents. Anyone who gets sick, or comes into the camp like you did, gets placed in those tents for observation.”

  That gave Liam pause. He understood there was the potential for patients to exhibit symptoms in that tent—he'd seen the restraints. But the infection could be fast. He'd seen it take less than a minute from end to end, bite to raving-mad zombie. If that had happened in the tent…

  “And what if we had turned into zombies? How would you have stopped us?”

  Doctor Yu displayed no emotion as she lifted her shirt just high enough to show him her waist. There, tucked in nice and neat, was a small pistol. “This is one of my new surgical instruments.”

  He was glad to have felt such exuberance when he left the tent with Victoria. By the time they reached the entrance to the hospital, it had completely dissipated.

  4

  “You'll have to leave your weapons at the front desk.”

  The three of them must have shared a look of distrust.

  “Don't worry. There are guards on every floor, and many doctors with guns. But we've found that people coming in from the outside...they can be very, um, how can I say this politely? Jumpy.”

  It rang true to Liam. Besides, his AK-47 was empty. He pulled it off his shoulder and placed it in a large gray bin, along with his two remaining empty magazines. Lana and Victoria did the same. He couldn't remember if either of them had handguns, but if they did, they made no motion to surrender them.

  When that was complete, Doctor Yu paced them to the waiting elevator.

  “You have power here?”

  “Yes, limited power. This facility has a coal-fired power-generating station. It's old, but it works. Saves us a lot of calorie expenditures climbing stairs.” She laughed as she pressed the button and the doors closed.

  The soothing music betrayed the seriousness of his life at that moment. The clean elevator car offered a step back into the Old World. Going to the hospital was never a pleasant experience, but he'd give anything to be visiting a friend who had an appendix removed, rather than having to step back out into this world being gnawed apart by the zombie plague.

  With a ding, they reached the twentieth floor. When the doors opened they were greeted by two men dressed in Army BDUs. They'd been looking out the large windows, but turned as they exited the elevator.

  Doctor Yu waved, and Liam mimicked her, trying to be friendly. The men gave a nod, then gave his mom and Victoria a look, but seemed to lose interest quickly. As they walked down the hall he chanced a look back under the pretense of looking at some wall art, and saw both men had reoriented on them as they departed…

  Is that normal behavior, or Zombie Apocalypse behavior?

  He was trying to solve that riddle when the doctor pulled them to a stop. She indicated they should look out the window. Below them, he could see the full length and width of the park. Every piece of open greenery was taken up by camping people, though most were in the area of the golf courses and ball fields, where it was flat.

  “The park is two miles long and one wide. Everyone who's still alive in the city is probably here.” She sounded sad, despite the good news.

  “How long can this go on?” He muttered to himself. It was a lament, more than anything, because he knew it could not.

  “The city of St. Louis had stockpiles of food and water for civil emergencies—tornadoes, earthquakes, that sort of thing. The city officials have kept it coming. People who live nearby usually come with as much food as they could take from their homes.”

  “Bring it with them? If they had food, why would they leave their homes?”

  His very first decision with Grandma was whether they should use her home as bunker and ride out the disaster. He was happy to realized he'd made the right call on that score. They had plenty of food, and probably could have lasted at least this long, but the long-term prognosis was grim.

  Doctor Yu turned to him. “You must be from the county. Out there,” she pointed out the window, “is the city. Most folks don't own guns, and the few that do were smart enough to leave right away for greener pastures. Those that are left are at the mercy of gangs of criminals who go house to house looking for loot. Those gangs are strong enough to hold off the zombies, and they're strong enough to kick out anyone who resists them. Trust me, you don't want to be out there alone.”

  “So they're here for protection,” Victoria said with understanding.

  “Yes. But also they're waiting for things to get back on their feet. Help is coming, my friends. The government is returning.”

  Yeah, about that. We aren't exactly fans.

  The three of them smiled to the doctor. Liam wondered if they were all thinking the same thing he was. The convoy fighting across the continent wasn't carrying their government anymore. Not if they were the ones who unleashed the plague…

  “What if they can't make it?” He never doubted they'd make it, but something made him ask the question. He wanted to know if the doctor was a strategic thinker, like he was.

  Her face was hard to read. Maybe a kind of sadness, or sympathy, for him.

  “I know it's hard to understand. There are tens of thousands of people down there who need help. Most cities are probably destroyed and overrun, but ours still has a fighting chance. Survivors are hanging on and the government is coming to take care of them. To carry on the fight against the infection. To help find the cure. Don't you see that?”

  He wasn't sure how to respond. Being a downer amid such hope wasn't really his style. But she beat him to the punch and continued talking.

  “You know, it's nice that you two are married. You'll be creating the first generation of the renewed America once we solve this.”

  The heat from his blushing cheeks radiated off the glass windows.

  5

  “Welcome to the Barnes Hospital medical complex,” a graying man in business attire waved them into h
is office. Liam let his mom and Doctor Yu sit in the pair of chairs nearest the desk, while he and Victoria stood behind them. No one offered to shake hands.

  “My name is Bosley Devareaux. When Miki told me your story I felt I had to meet you. Getting those people across town in River des Peres was a stroke of genius. I told my security team we should look at that for moving our own people around town to try to bring in more supplies,” he laughed while he pushed himself back into his plush chair.

  “Thank you for letting us in,” Lana said.

  Sorry we're going to ruin it all for you.

  Once again he thought the timer had been reset on a safe refuge. But he'd been wrong about Cairo, so maybe the curse was broken, finally.

  “Think nothing of it, we have plenty to get us by until help arrives.” He pointed to a small computer monitor on his desk. When he turned the screen, they could all see scenes of the television coverage of the convoy. CSPAN ran continual programming, it appeared.

  He turned up the volume, assuming everyone wanted to hear. They were in the middle of a broadcast from on top of a truck parked near a bridge.

  “The Army followed orders to the letter in those first days. Bridge after bridge was destroyed in the initial effort to control the infected. Now, as you can see, the convoy has been faced with the results of those orders. After days fighting in and around Charleston, the vanguard of the convoy is now using a two-lane bridge near...” The announcer looked away from the camera to get his information. “The town of Elanor, West Virginia. From here, they are trying to get back to Interstate 64.” The man was reporting while under an umbrella. Liam could see a gentle rain in the background, but he also saw the trusses of the bridge now laden with vehicles.

  The reporter grabbed his ear, as if listening to someone from off screen.

  “That's right Marcia. We still don't have any reports from the other columns. The area around Pittsburgh was particularly tough going. My understanding is that this convoy tried to go through underpopulated regions like West Virginia to keep away from the undead. But even here we've seen plenty. The real enemy is the good work done by the military—”

  Mr. Devareaux switched the sound back off, though Liam couldn't take his eyes away from all the military hardware crossing the bridge in silence. That really could help keep this place alive. If they were coming to help. He wasn't anywhere near convinced on that point.

  “Once they get here, we can get back to doing the important work of finding the cure to this thing. Getting those sick back in their homes and away from trouble out there, or getting hurt and killed by scared people.”

  Liam held his tongue.

  “And let me tell you, we've got a long way to go.”

  “You mean with a cure?” Lana asked.

  “With everything. Much of my staff has been diverted taking care of sprained ankles and purifying drinking water, if you can believe that. But yes, the cure is the reason we exist right now. This entire complex is conducting research for the CDC, as is the Washington University staff down at the far end of Forest Park. Those are the only two facilities still doing research in the St. Louis area, that I know about.”

  Liam thought about Riverside, Elk Meadow, the pit mine, and wherever Hayes had gone. Research was being done…

  “Liam, tell Mr. Devareaux here—”

  “Please, call me Bosley. We can't be formal in such times.”

  “Very well. Tell him what you told me. What you know.”

  He looked to Victoria and she nodded ever so slightly. Her eyes said to spill it all.

  “Did you know...the virus didn't infect my Grandma because she was too old?”

  “How—”

  “She's 104.”

  He jotted some notes on the pad of paper in front of him. The images on his monitor were still a distraction, but Liam tried to focus on the man.

  “A man named Douglas Hayes said he was with the CDC. I met him almost at the beginning of the crisis, and he followed us out of the city. To make a long story short, he infected my Grandma, but she didn't get sick.”

  Bosley put his pen in his mouth, thinking. “104. That would mean she was born when? 1912, 1913, or so?”

  Lana nodded in the affirmative.

  “What was going on back then?” Bosley asked. “World War I, Lusitania sinking, the Spanish Flu.”

  Liam had heard of World War I, mostly from his dad. He couldn't remember ever discussing it in school. Nor the Lusitania or the Spanish Flu. His history books mostly focused on Civil Rights and Hippies. That was his recollection, anyway.

  “Did your Grandma get the flu when she was a kid? I wouldn't expect you'd know that, but it would be useful to study. Maybe this new disease shares something in common with the one a hundred years ago, and that's why your Grandma has her immunity. But we've checked all known strains of flu and didn't find any matches.”

  “Yeah, Hayes said one of the flu viruses was man-made. He might even have mentioned Spanish Flu. I can't recall. But that's why it's so deadly.”

  Victoria agreed, “Hayes did mention Spanish Flu, now that you said it out loud. He said this one was like that one in how deadly it was. He didn't say they were the same, though.”

  “Well, that's still a valuable clue. Is there any way you can put me in touch with this Mr. Hayes? I don't recall hearing that name in any of the CDC personnel in our facility.”

  Not on your life, mister.

  “Well, we don't know where he is right now,” he said. “But he seemed to have the ability to order people around. He probably ended up at a medical facility to continue his research. He drew blood from my Grandma and took it with him.

  “OK, is there any way we could have access to your Grandmother?”

  His mom looked back at him. A warning.

  “My grandma...couldn't make it here.” He left it up to the man's imagination what he meant. With so much death, he could only infer one thing.

  “I'm sorry. Truly.”

  “Surely you have other elderly people here you can test? That would actually confirm what my Grandma did. That they carry some kind of immunity, right?”

  Bosley sat up in his chair, looking right at him. “That's exactly correct, son. And now that you've pointed us in the right direction we can investigate this angle. But there's something you have to understand about the medical profession. About these hospitals. About the world out those windows.” He pointed behind him. “Hard decisions had to be made about the medicines and time of our staff. The added stresses...”

  He faded out. Sat back in his chair.

  Doctor Yu, perhaps sensing her duty as the medical professional, took up the story from her boss. She stood and spoke in a low voice. “I'm sorry to say, most of the elderly were the first to be, um, let go. When it was clear what this disease was, and how it was affecting the city, we decided it was best to discharge the patients with the least chance of surviving without extensive resources from our diminishing stockpiles.”

  “When you say discharge, you really mean you sent them to die, right?” He knew it was sensible, and he'd seen more dead elderly since the sirens than probably anyone else in the room. But it didn't make him feel good that his great grandma could have been tossed out, had she been here.

  Victoria held his hand. She knew the implications.

  “I'm sorry, that's correct. We helped make them as comfortable as possible if they weren't able to live without help. Others, we tried to ensure they had someone who could take them home. Friends. Relatives. For a while there were enterprising people driving cars for food. Some went with them. Where they went from there, we'll never know.”

  Liam again saw the ironies in his life. After weeks of time trying to keep his grandma, and others like her, alive in the face of zombies and malicious CDC agents...these people were tossing those same elderly people out the door like so much garbage. Now, when everything depended on finding test subjects to help track down the cure, none could be found.

  An unsettling
thought flew into his brain. Something that made his empty stomach churn.

  He was in the same position as Douglas Hayes. He needed elderly test subjects.

  What the hell is this world coming to?

  6

  “So you're telling us you have no one of sufficient age here in the hospital, or out there?” Lana pointed to the large crowd out the window, though they couldn't see them directly from inside the room.

  “We have no one here in the hospital over the age of about eighty. To be fair, we had to turn a lot of people younger than that away, too. Everyone has high blood pressure these days. Almost everyone is on medications of some kind, you know. Some of those medications are actually keeping them alive. We had to retain some of those medications for future purposes, rather than let them get consumed for no good end. Supplies of new drugs stopped on day one.”

  It all made sense, but Liam hated the thought.

  Bosley continued. “And down there? No one of sufficient age could live in a sweltering tent for three weeks, without well-stocked food or medications. Many people lined up to get into the hospital, claiming their loved ones had the right to be saved. Those lines are gone...” He trailed off, obviously not proud of that aspect.

  “But you have to understand. This was all done so that the rest of us could survive. The strong. The healthy. The young.” He pointed to Liam and Victoria as if they were spokespeople for the youth contingent.

  “Sir, it's urgent you help us find someone of sufficient age to test. If my great grandma were here I think she would even volunteer for it, now that we know real medical people are after this. The disease is worse than you can imagine. Victoria and I have seen it affect people even after death.”

  He explained the exhumed soldiers they'd encountered down in the pit mine.

  “Impossible!” He slammed his fists on the desk in a surprising reaction. “This disease is not some supernatural horseshit. The dead are dead, and will stay dead, do you understand? We have to focus on the living.”

  Everyone's eyes were on Bosley.

  “Miki, would you be kind enough to show our guests to the front door?” Then he looked at Liam as Lana rose. “I wish your Grandma was here. A cure might be as simple as comparing her blood with another infected victim. I just don't know. I don't know how we can make this right.”