Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Here, someone help him down. I'll turn the Gator around and I can give him a ride to the center of town.” He handed the general to a younger man, then spun Marty and the little cart around so it was at the bottom of the hill, ready to give the injured man a ride.

  To their credit the two young women got back in the Gator, too. They offered to help stabilize the general on what would be a bumpy ride on the way back across the levee.

  Marty couldn't turn around properly as she had to hold on while the machine sped along.

  “A general huh? How'd you get down in that gully?”

  “I'm a Major General—two stars—though I've probably been mustered out, dishonorably.” He laughed weakly.

  “Why mustard?” asked one of the girls.

  “No,” a painful laugh, “it means I was sent home because someone didn't like my attitude. And, though I hate to point fingers because I take full responsibility for my actions, my situation was caused by that woman right there.”

  Marty knew he was pointing at her. Duncan was looking right at her.

  When they got to the top of the levee, Duncan pulled off the road and turned off the motor.

  “This woman put you in that hellscape? How?”

  “No, not at all. I'm sure she has no idea what she's done. Mrs. Peters, pleased to see you again.”

  Marty was able to shift on the bright yellow seat so she could see the injured general. “I'm glad to see you too, sir. I had nothing to do with you ending up there, I'm sure of that.”

  “I think you were supposed to die in that room, ma'am. I interrupted that plan, then I compounded it by taking you to the town's infirmary. You were with other people. You were safe from them.” He coughed and winced in pain as he grabbed his side.

  One of the girls begged Duncan to continue, but he seemed on the fence.

  “That woman, Elsa whatever, told me who she was with.”

  “Homeland Security, though I never believed that.” The general replied.

  “No, she was affiliated with a man who chased my grandson and his girlfriend in downtown St. Louis. He worked for a government agency, I think they are security guards, or something. Their letters are NIS.”

  “What does that stand for, ma'am?” a girl asked from behind her.

  “I don't remember.” She expected the general to know. “I'm old, you understand.” She found herself a little guilty at dumping the responsibility on the ash pile of old age, but it was plain as day she didn't know. Why else, than old age?

  A failing mind, perchance?

  She wanted it to be old age.

  “She was upset I talked to you, but I think she was more upset that I refused her orders. I'm still bound by my oath to serve this nation, so I can't tell you any details of what's going on beyond what I'm certain you already know. There's a convoy coming from the East Coast. When it gets to Illinois, they want us to be out there to protect them, then join with them as they reach their final destination. Elsa ordered me to move all my men north to support that effort, no matter what effect that would have on Cairo.”

  “So you refused,” Duncan suggested.

  “More than that. I tried to have her arrested when she asked me about Mrs. Peters—her prisoner. The soldiers should have obeyed me, but it turns out they weren't real soldiers. They were loyal to her, not the United States Constitution. I spent the night in her unit's “care,” and I woke up when I hit the water out there. They threw me from the bridge last night on their way out.”

  He made a gesture toward his stomach, though Marty couldn't see it properly. “I got this when I fell off the bridge. I landed on some debris left in the trench. I used that crap to climb onto the berm, but after all the bombing and strafing last night, the dirt had turned to mud. It took me all night to fingernail my way up that hill...to almost get shot for my trouble.” He laughed, then coughed.

  “Please. I'm exhausted.”

  Duncan started the motor and he threw it into gear.

  Despite the horrors, she enjoyed the wind in her hair on their way back to the heart of town.

  5

  Marty was allowed to sit with the general while he was patched up. He seemed to appreciate her presence, though she had no idea why. The stern-looking general softened when he looked at her.

  “This is going to hurt, sir.” One of the nurses proceeded to pour some liquid on his side, then wipe up the mess.

  Through the pain he spoke to Marty. “You remind me of my grandmother. She was only 99, but we were close. I can't explain why, really. My mother and I weren't even that close. But her. Something about her always set me at peace. A way of talking without saying anything, if you know what I mean.”

  Marty nodded, though she admitted she didn't know for sure. She shared her time with many of her younger family members. Some were very talkative, and she had to fight to get them to leave—she still loved them—and others were more reserved. They'd share smiles and a brief word here or there, but they didn't come round to chat. People were different, that's all.

  Thinking of a two-star general as someone's grandkid almost made her giggle.

  The nurse had to step out, leaving the room to Marty and John.

  “She wanted you dead, Marty. I can't figure it out, either. She said you were injected with the cure. Is that true?”

  “I think so. A man named Douglas Hayes injected me with something. Liam told me he thought it was the cure.”

  “Hayes? Elsa wanted me to find him and kill him.”

  Grandma took a long time to reply. The general couldn't know how confused she was about Hayes, even beyond her normal confusion about all that happened around her. Hayes had followed them out of the city, shot Victoria, kidnapped her and Liam, and just when it seemed he couldn't get any worse, he helped the kids escape from the Riverside Hotel. He claimed he was working on the cure...but also…

  “Hayes was part of the team that created and delivered the virus. He told us.”

  “God god! Are you sure? And Hayes was working with Elsa. Is Homeland Security behind all this?” He seemed to be trying to convince himself, so Marty didn't interfere. He looked at her. “Are you sure about this? This is a game-changer.”

  “I think so. He caused the plague, but he also said he was looking for the cure. I don't think he thought it was going to be like this.” She swept her hands.

  “This makes no sense. Elsa wanted her own man dead? And you?”

  “You'd have to ask Liam. He's writing a book about it. He keeps track of the details.”

  “You mentioned Liam back in your motel room.”

  “I did? He's my great-grandson and helper.”

  “You were out of it,” he laughed guardedly. “And I didn't press you on it.”

  “You would like him. He's a real go-getter. He got me out of St. Louis in the days after the sirens, then he and Victoria rescued me from the NIS people.”

  “He must be pretty tough. If Elsa belongs to the same group, her people are ruthless. They caught this old warrior with his pants down. Now they're leading my men somewhere out in Indian country. But if they're so clever, why would they kill the one person who had the cure?”

  “I don't know. I'm just an old woman trying to stay alive from one day to the next. Even without zombies, my days are in short supply. I admit I sometimes don't worry about the details. And my dreams. My oh my. Don't get me started. I see some strange things—I'm dreading the word 'dementia' when I get back to see a proper doctor.”

  He studied her. “You don't seem crazy to me. You were right about Elsa, by the way. She is a horrible person, and not just for cutting your air conditioning. She pulled a gun on me. Threatened to kill me. I should have come back and arrested her on the spot, but then I'd be dead and would never have known about you. I guess it worked out as it was supposed to.”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  “I can't argue that, ma'am. But we have a job to do. Once they get me patched up I need to get back up on that le
vee. The battle last night was intense and one-sided, but without my tanks, gun carriers, and airplanes, we're going to be fighting them with pop guns and harsh language. What we need is an ICBM to drop from space and clear all of southern Illinois. It would almost be worth it to lose the land if we never had to worry about millions of infected citizens again.”

  “Millions?”

  “Yes. I'm sure Elsa didn't advertise this, but the big rivers are catching all the sick from Chicago and Indianapolis and pushing them right to our doorstep. We killed tens of thousands last night. Millions are on the way.”

  “Oh dear. Well, I'll do what I can from my bedside. I'll be praying.”

  “I need bodies, more n' anything right now. You know where I can get some people to fight?”

  At first her mind thought of nothing that would help, but she slowly came to understand what was at stake and where she might find some people willing to do something about it.

  Time to put down the tablets and join the real world.

  She smiled.

  Chapter 10: Colorado

  “I never in my wildest fantasies thought you and I would be doing this,” Victoria said as she smiled widely at Liam.

  “Me either. So what do we do? Do it at the same time, or do you want me to go first?”

  “Heck no, I'll show you how this is done.”

  Liam stepped back, content to give her the floor. She was better at this sort of thing…

  He covered his ears.

  The explosive force of the AK-47 filled the small hallway and Liam felt as much as heard the gunshot. It only took two shots to ruin the lock of the dorm door. Victoria explained that her key card and hospital ID badge had been on a lanyard she wore all the time on campus—except she took it off the night of the disaster so she could go out with her friends. She had the card in a small hidden pocket inside the evening dress she'd worn for so long those first days. It never occurred to her to take it out and keep it with her. The melted remains of the plastic card were in the ruins of Liam's neighborhood.

  He shut the door and locked it with the deadbolt. It was above the main door handle, and hadn't been locked because it had to be turned manually from the inside. A piece of luck.

  They'd left Hans and his mom so he could take Victoria to her old dorm room.

  When they walked into her room it was like walking into the ancient past. A pair of tidy beds lined opposite walls and a long desk linked the two beds at the front of the room. The light of the evening filtered through the partially-opened blinds protecting the large window.

  Victoria walked directly to her desk. It was bare, save for a few large books. A box sat on the floor with some personal effects from one of the two occupants of the room—Liam couldn't say.

  “I'm here. I can't...believe it.” Victoria looked at her desk, then out the window to the treetops in the big courtyard. Another dorm building was on the far side. Liam could hear the wobble in her voice as she spoke. “It never should have ended like this.” Watching her from the back, her shoulders slumped and he heard soft crying. He stepped up to her and put his arms around her, and for once didn't say anything.

  That isn't to say he didn't want to tell her everything was going to be OK, or that they'd make the best of things. Lots of things came to his head, but something told him now was the time to shut up and just hold on.

  It took five minutes before she turned to face him. She'd been crying the whole time.

  “I want this life back. The one where my worst stresses are my tests, or getting to class on time. The one where my biggest fear is getting a B. The one where I live happily ever after as a doctor...” The tears ratcheted back up and she leaned into him for a tight hug.

  “Please tell me we can have that life. We can bring it all back.”

  “I, uh...”

  What can I tell her without lying?

  “I'm trying. We're trying. That's why we take chances. Why we crawl out of graves, run down sewer pipes, and risk doing it over and over again. So we can bring...as much of it back as we can.”

  She was quiet for another couple of minutes.

  “Hey, there's my duffel of clothes.” She untangled herself from him and walked to the other end of her bed. A nylon bag with one long zipper lay with clothes strewn on top of it, like it had been picked through.

  “I never even had time to get situated in my room when I arrived. I tossed my junk here, they threw scrubs at me, and I only came back to sleep for the next few weeks. I always thought I'd have time to put my clothes into drawers.”

  The slatted doors of the closet in the back of the room were part-way open, and some colorful dresses hung from hangers. She'd obviously gotten those squared away.

  Liam sat on the bed. “Maybe we can live here for a while? Surely this is better than being in a tent down in the park?”

  Victoria didn't answer, so he kept talking. “Do you know where your roommate went? Is she, uh, safe?”

  She stopped what she was doing with the bag and her arms fell to her side. To Liam, it appeared she was defeated. “I'm sure she's dead. She hasn't been here, has she?”

  “OK, I'm sorry. I was just asking.” He was treading in dangerous waters. The warning indicators were there, but he had no idea how he'd arrived.

  After several minutes, she plopped herself on the bed next to him. She had a small gray bag sitting on her lap. It was about the size of a large purse. When she saw him looking at it, she put her hands over it. “Hey, don't look at a girl's makeup bag.”

  “You need all that for makeup?”

  “You're too funny,” she said wistfully. “No, it isn't all makeup. This is what I use when I use the dorm's communal bathroom.”

  He was poised to ask about sharing a bathroom with other people, and how it seemed kind of primitive for a fancy dorm like this, but after three weeks sharing much worse spaces for bathrooms, it suddenly seemed the pinnacle of civilization.

  “I need to sleep.” She sounded like a drone.

  Unable to guess her intentions, he stood up. “I'll let you sleep here. I'll keep watch outside.” It didn't seem likely there'd be zombies here, but if other dorm rooms were locked like hers, there was a real chance a zombie was lurking in one of those rooms. He'd read that trope a million times.

  “No, don't go.”

  His heart was withering under the mixed messaging he'd been getting ever since they'd arrived at Forest Park. What was it she needed, or wanted? For the first time since he'd met her, they were completely alone with no threats nearby, whatsoever.

  She dropped her bag at the foot of the bed, then crawled toward her pillow and threw herself upon it. She took a deep whiff as if it had just come out of the wash.

  “My God. This is what Colorado smelled like, back then. Cleeeean.”

  Her head was turned sideways on her pillow, as she looked at him.

  “Liam. Will you sleep in Casey's bed? I want you close.”

  He felt rejected. He felt elated. Stay. Go. But mostly, stay.

  “I'll be here.” He tossed himself into the other single bed, wrinkling the perfect covers. The pillow carried the faint scent of laundry detergent and a girl's perfume. It was from a different era...

  For no reason whatsoever he began to tear up.

  He had to flip so he was looking at the wall, rather than Victoria.

  The AK-47 semi-automatic rifle was lying right next to him. He'd placed it there as a hedge.

  I guess I don't believe we are completely alone, after all.

  2

  Liam woke when something banged on the window. The light in the room was all wrong. Instead of being draped in shadows, sunlight came through the blinds.

  “A bird.”

  “What?”

  “That was a bird hitting the window. We are only three floors up and with all the trees around, the birds get confused when they see the shiny windows of the dorm. It's in the brochure.” Her voice carried a trace of mirth.

  She sat at her desk, head
in a book.

  “Did I sleep all night? I told Mom we'd only be a while.”

  “We both did. I guess we really needed it, huh?” She turned to him, her face neutral. He was frozen midway through his jump out of bed—which Victoria was in the room? Was it the angry Victoria from the park? The sad Victoria from last night? Or was it the “old” Victoria he'd been traveling with?

  “Oh, Liam. I'm so sorry for how I've been acting. I've not been very mature.” She shifted so her chair faced him, and she pulled her legs off the floor and folded them underneath her. He didn't expect to see her in pajamas, but there she was. Her legs were bare, as the pajama shorts were made for summer. A detail he couldn't possibly overlook...

  “Coming back here has done some strange things to me. Seeing all the same buildings where I spent so much time after coming here from my home—and all that baggage. This room. My old clothes. Even my toothbrush! This was freedom like I'd never really known...”

  He knew, to an extent, how she felt. His own return to his boyhood home had summoned strange new feelings as well. Mostly he accepted that his life from before the sirens was dead and buried. His dependence on his parents was over. He had to look forward.

  But…

  What if he had first arrived at his own home today? Victoria had been “in the wild” for almost three weeks. Getting back to things she identified with her time prior to the zombies would be emotional, no doubt about it. His job was to tip-toe through the minefield and help her through to the other side. Otherwise, she might never leave the room.

  He finally got out of his bed, shoes and all. The long desk had a second chair on Casey's side of the room, which he pulled and placed near Victoria.

  “Holy crap! You have cookies?”

  “They're stale, but yeah. I forgot I brought these. I had them in my duffel—all the way from home.” She offered some of the chocolate chip cookies, which he inhaled in huge bites.

  “Mmm, best cookies I've ever had.”

  “Someone has been in the room. I had a bunch of other food in a box. It's gone.”