Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Sir, the military did abandon some people. The entire East Coast, in fact.”

  He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Elsa and her team assured us it was an orderly evacuation and that everyone was invited to come to St. Louis in the super convoy. Operation Renew. I’ve seen the images, though. It looks anything but organized, and people are pissed.”

  “Is Elsa a general?”

  Brandyweis laughed a healthy laugh. “Oh, no. No. She’s part of Homeland Security. They’ve taken over crisis management, which put her in charge of the defense of Cairo. None of the civilian leaders wanted the military in charge, though they still wanted us around to do the fighting, of course.”

  “Homeland Security? Duchesne mentioned them as his cover.” He thought back to their first meeting on overpass south of St. Louis. “And he was really an NIS agent. Hayes said he was with Homeland once, but also with the CDC.”

  The colonel’s jovial attitude nosedived. “Elsa is some sort of double agent?”

  Liam waited for the thought-process to reach the goal line.

  “No, that’s not possible. We had orders from multiple chains of command, instructing us to defer to her leadership in southern Illinois.”

  Fumble.

  “I don’t know what this National Internal Security stuff is, but it can’t be everywhere.”

  “How do I know you aren’t NIS?” Liam asked in a non-threatening voice.

  Brandyweis looked at him angrily, but caught himself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. If there is a secretive group running around infiltrating our research teams, it could be anyone. But if I was NIS, why would I run my boys up that tower to have them killed? Why would I sacrifice one of my Ospreys in that scrum in the stadium?” His voice trailed off.

  “I wasn’t serious,” Liam offered.

  “No, you have every right. If what you say is true—and I have every intention of trusting you on that—you’ve been betrayed multiple times. You should doubt everyone’s motives, including mine.”

  Liam felt a little guilty that he lied to him, but he remained silent until he thought back to that meeting with Duchesne in the hotel where he revealed he’d been tracking Victoria’s cell phone.

  “It might help me trust you if you told me how you found me.”

  After a few moments, Brandyweis stood from his chair. “It was pretty easy, I’m afraid, and not very creative.” He waved one of his men over. Liam expected it to be Jax—it just seemed that was destiny—but it was a well-tanned man with cropped hair and a serious face.

  “This is Lance Corporal Thomas. He’s our resident techie. Show ‘em what you got there. Tell me who this is.” He pointed to Liam.

  The black box-like device was about the size of a laptop computer. It had a screen on the top portion, and a keyboard on the lower section and a small saucer-like extension sticking out of the keyboard. After typing some stuff in, he held the device so the saucer pointed at Liam, then after a few moments, the Thomas read the report.

  “Liam Peters. Age, sixteen. Blood type, AB neg. Current residence...”

  The report was very thorough. Not only did it give details about who he was, it also gave details about his health, family’s health, and possible diseases he may one day get. That was magical enough, but when it started to get into known associations he saw where it was going…

  “Victoria Hennessey, resident of Denver, Colorado. Denise Rawlings, resident of Jacksonville, Florida. Haylee—”

  “OK, I get it!” he said with mock anger. It scared him that the computer had that much information about him, and it doubly scared him that it could know he had made contact with the source of the Patriot Snowball, but he had to know how such a thing was possible. “How the hell can it know who I’ve met? I only saw Denise for a few minutes yesterday. She killed herself when I was trying to save her...” His exasperation masked his fear that the strange device would list every contact he’d had earlier that day. His mom, Haylee, Travis, Jason Hawkes. The list went on—all enemies of the United States government, apparently.

  Brandyweis motioned to the other Marine, giving permission to reveal the secret, he hoped.

  “We were given these DNA sniffers a few days ago, down in Cairo. They wanted us to take read outs of the dead bodies on the ground so we could start to account for all the infected. They were perfect because we didn't have to touch them. They said special teams were going out with tracking darts so we could then find and identify the bodies.”

  The colonel continued. “It was a long shot, but I put your name into the database and it returned several hits this morning. It says you’ve been tagged twenty-two times,” he laughed. “What have you been doing to get yourself tagged over and over?”

  He gave the Marines his most serious look. “I don’t think they’re tagging zombies. I think they’re putting everyone down who’s still alive in that part of the city where I escaped.”

  Both men laughed. Brandyweis responded. “Son, I appreciate your honesty, but—”

  Liam held up his hand. “Wait! Where is the drone that you had with you when you found me by that tree?”

  He got blank stares.

  He clearly enunciated his words, as if speaking clearly would make them understand faster. “When you found me by the tree, I heard a drone. I know what they sound like. It was hovering close by. You had a drone.”

  “Son, if we had a drone I’d have no reason not to tell you. There was no drone in the air when we found you.”

  Liam scanned the big yard, confident he was being watched. He didn’t hear the whirl of copter blades, but his imagination insisted it was out there.

  “We should get inside,” he said with the first hint of panic.

  “OK, you wanna tell me why.”

  “Sir, there was a drone. I’ve been running from them all morning. These things aren’t just tagging zombies; they're tagging everyone. And when they tag you, the next thing they do is shoot you.”

  They busted through the swing-away patio doors of the mansion—no one had come out to chase them away—and made their way inside. Liam was comforted to have a roof over his head, and thrilled to have Marines surrounding him, but wary of the responsibility he was putting on himself by aligning with them. Though the colonel didn’t blame him for getting his men killed, he took it upon himself to give them every ounce of information they’d need, going forward.

  It took him fifteen minutes to explain his encounters with the various drones. Then, another thirty of follow-up before they believed him. As time passed he began to doubt his own memory. Maybe there wasn't a drone, after all.

  Still, he'd done what he could to prepare them. Just in case. Whatever happened next would not be on him.

  4

  The little tank appeared at the far end of the yard. Liam, almost glad to see it, pointed. “I told you!”

  “Yeah, looks like you were right. Now let us do our jobs. You keep your head down,” Brandyweis said emphatically.

  “Can I have my shotgun back?”

  “No, you’ll be fine. You have six of meanest hombres in St. Louis guarding you.”

  It was silly, he knew, but he pulled out the shotgun shells from his pocket and set them next to the wall. If he got his gun back he'd have a stash ready.

  “I thought you had ten men?” he went on.

  “I do. Four are keeping the Osprey in flight. Just stay down.”

  Liam couldn’t guess how the Marines were going to handle the drones, but he knew they’d have a much easier job of it than he did. He assumed as soon as it was clear the Marines had him in custody they would depart.

  “If they think you have me captured, won’t they go away?”

  “That’s an excellent question. But I’m not going to risk it.”

  The tank trundled through the overgrown grass of the yard. It wasn’t quite the same model he’d seen in the pet store, but he couldn’t readily identify what made it so. It had the same treads, was about the same size, and had a gun on top...
but it had some extra junk on the top surface. It seemed smaller in the large grassy yard, but he figured it was about the size of a typical riding lawnmower.

  “Give it a warning shot, Max.”

  A loud crack came from the floor above. He couldn’t see outside, but there was no explosion, so he figured the sniper wasn’t aiming for a hit.

  The colonel got up to the hole in the glass. “We are United States Marines. I order you to stand down,” he bellowed. He casually ducked back like he didn’t expect a response, and the other glass door shattered as the reports of gunshots rolled across the yard.

  Liam popped up, against orders, to see the scene. The little tank in the yard was stopped, and looked like a lost child. No smoke from a gunshot. The shots had to have come from elsewhere.

  “There are more drones,” he yelled, though he thought it was pretty obvious.

  “Or ground pounders. We may not be alone.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. If the NIS could track him, they may have figured now was the time to eliminate him.

  A powerful green laser came from the hedge at the back of the yard. It pointed above Liam—to the second floor. Then a shot followed.

  “Take it out,” he ordered on his radio.

  The Marines fired at will. He put his head down as a natural reaction to gunfire.

  The familiar crack of the sniper rifle rose over the din of all the other guns, including the colonel’s battle rifle. Brandyweis edged to a window, broke the glass, then waited for a response. There were several windows on the back of the ground floor of the house, and he broke each in turn. When he reached the last window in the large living room, he turned back toward Liam with a serious look.

  “Get down!”

  It reminded him of the frustration he’d often visited upon his dad. In their arguments over the past six months, he reveled in angering his old man so that he’d loose his cool. The colonel’s frustration at something as simple as keeping his head down was the same tone his father often had. He complied.

  A couple of rounds came through the back window near Brandyweis. They struck some wildlife heads that had been mounted to the wall. An impressive deer with a massive pair of antlers fell from its mount after it had been hit.

  A large mirror on the wall followed suit.

  The colonel fired through a broken window, then pulled back.

  Liam chanced another look and saw the drone tank had moved about half the distance to the house from where it was last.

  He felt the air move near his head. A pop from the yard followed the clink of more glass behind him where the bullet had struck.

  “The drone is getting closer,” he offered.

  The colonel looked at him with a scowl, perhaps seeing the same futility as his father. Then he put a few more shots on target before again pulling back from the lead flight path.

  A green laser swept the room. When it struck the broken glass of the windows or the remains of the mirrors on the rear wall, it broke into multiple directions like a laser show he’d seen at the Missouri Planetarium.

  While he thought about that more pleasant memory, a small drone came in through the open back windows. It was hovering above him before he had a chance to move. It was different than the bigger helicopter drones he’d seen earlier in the day. It was more like the tiny drones he’d watched come out of the compartments on the Tiger tanks. It hovered on four small fans but consisted mainly of one central hull with a shiny black orb.

  He searched for a tiny gun or even a tagging device, but it appeared harmless. He did begin to crawl backward, hoping to find a table or something solid he could put between him and the trespasser, but it exploded over his head before he got anywhere. It slammed to the ground and its fans shut off. The colonel had used his rifle to good effect.

  “Run upstairs, kid. They know exactly where you are.”

  He stood up to run, but the green laser found him.

  I know! Get down!

  5

  Liam didn’t wait to find out if he’d been hit. He’d gotten good at fast-crawling over the past several weeks, and he crawled for all he was worth. First into a nearby hallway, then he searched for the stairs up.

  Another Marine stood in the front foyer, peeking out a window next to the front door. His back was to him, so he wasn’t noticed.

  The stairs were nearby. He was surprised that two of the green lasers blazed through two different windows and nearly touched when they reached him. Rather than dip, he jumped a few steps and continued upward. Too late, a bullet bit at the steps below him.

  He hesitated at the top step. Daylight shone in the open hallway on the second floor, meaning a drone could probably see him once he made himself visible.

  A few seconds into his deliberations, an explosion rocked the home. Smoke wafted up the stairs, and he could tell the explosion happened at the front door. The body of the Marine guard was on the floor.

  Crap. Crap. Crap!

  “Kid, over here!” Another Marine stood across the hallway, toward the far end. He waved from inside the door frame of a room.

  Liam looked back down. The engine of a drone tank spun up, and it was moments before he saw the treads appear through the smoke. He threw himself into the upstairs hallway, righted himself, then fast-crawled again toward the open door.

  “There’s a drone tank coming up those stairs. They killed your man at the front door.”

  “Roger. Get in. Get low,” the man said with a gruff voice.

  He slid into a huge tiled bathroom, then backed up against a clawfoot bathtub. The Marine continued to guard the door, his weapon drawn. Liam couldn’t help but notice he had a knife belted to his leg and carried a sidearm in a holster on his hip.

  “No, kid. Get in the tub,” he said with force. He pulled a grenade from his chest rigging but waited until Liam was in the tub before he pulled the pin.

  “Grenade in the front stairwell,” he said calmly. Liam expected him to yell, but the Marines seemed to be communicating via the comm links in their ears.

  A few moments later, his tub rocked.

  The Marine shut the door and ran over to him. The look on his face was a grim determination. “Kid, you won’t believe this. A flying drone caught my grenade and carried it down the hall before it exploded.”

  It didn’t phase Liam. Nothing would anymore. “Can you try another?”

  “All out. Been using them a lot, lately.”

  “So what do we do now?” He climbed out of the tub, eyeing the window, and the trees of the backyard.

  “What is this thing coming after you? Does it have a weakness?”

  “I used a shotgun to mess up a flying drone from the back, but the colonel took my gun. I saw a drone tank before, but I ran instead of fighting it.”

  As he talked quietly, he walked to the back window. The Marine yanked him back a split second before the green laser appeared.

  “No going that way.”

  “Sir, we’re trapped up here. Bathroom. North end of house,” he reported to the team. Then, facing him, he continued, “All right, kid. You get back in the tub. We’ll see where this goes.”

  “I can fight. Give me a gun.” He eyed the sidearm.

  “Well, it can’t hurt.” He pulled the gun out of his holster and handed it to him, barrel facing down. “Just don’t shoot me,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  He jumped in the tub again, disappointed at how heavy the gun felt.

  “The safety’s off, kid.”

  There was nowhere to hide, so the Marine stood behind where the door would open. The large shower area was glass, so that wasn’t an option for anyone.

  It was sixty seconds before he heard the engine of the tank drone in the hallway. It struggled to get up the steps, as the other had back at the pet store, but it sounded smooth as it trundled down the hall to his door. He jumped at the first bang on the wood.

  Two green lasers appeared in the air above him.

  “Sir, the kid is in a big tub. Safe f
or a few.”

  The concussive force of the Marine’s rifle startled him again. He’d expected the drone to be shooting, but if there were lasers on the second floor, it meant the floaters were directly outside. They were engaging the only target they could see.

  A spent shell fell into the tub, into his shirt sleeve.

  “Ouch!”

  He squirmed to get it out, and in the process stuck his head above the lip of the tub. He saw at least one drone outside, though there were two beams. The crack of wood followed.

  “Get down!” his companion yelled between deafening blasts.

  Many shots ensued, including the sound of the drone tank’s gun. He recognized it for what it was.

  The Marine hit the floor screaming in pain, but he continued to fire.

  I can’t let him die for me.

  He stuck up his head, intending to fire his gun. The battle rifle was pointed right at him. Again, he ducked. After the Marine shot out through the window, the whine of an engine was punctuated by a violent crash against the window frame.

  That was his cue. He got to his knees, then aimed at the tank drone. It looked twice as large as he remembered it, now that it was only a few feet away. The gun was unable to aim down at the injured man below it, so it was trying to back itself up to find the angle it needed to hit its target.

  He fired several wild shots, then ducked back into the tub. The gun on the tank could hit him at that level.

  A shot did hit the side of the tub, but the heavy steel deflected it with a dull thud. He felt it hit, but there was no penetration.

  He was ready to declare a stalemate, but then he saw the return of one of the green lasers.

  6

  The first round impacted the Marine—he yelped—but the following four or five seemed to have missed.

  The drone’s tracks came back into the room. They slid on the broken glass and debris as the tank approached the tub. With a final clank of steel on steel, it stopped. From the bottom of the tub, he could see the edge of the thing’s superstructure and the big gun on top, though it couldn’t possibly aim down at him as it was now too close. In a way, it was a classic standoff. He considered shooting the pistol, but there was no obvious point he could hit which would shut the whole thing down like you see in the movies.