Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Liam, hang on a second,” Rose requested. A series of clicks and chirps took over the line.

  After a few moments, he called out, “Hello?”

  No response.

  “Hello?” he called louder, as if that would help.

  Another click and he heard his mom’s voice at the very end of a word like she’d been talking on another line.

  Rose spoke to him. “Liam, listen. This is very important. I have an agent in Cairo that has eyes on Marty. She’s going to get out. Do you hear me? She's going to get out. You don’t have to go there. Your mother and I agree on this. We need you to stay clear.”

  “What about Victoria? The Marines said she has a chip in her. A tracking chip. She’s down there. I’m not going to leave her to die.”

  Lana responded. “Liam, I love Victoria. She can take care of herself. I need to protect you from going into a horde of zombies. You know that, right? It’s already too late.”

  “I know that, Mom. But I’m going. Call me in a few hours and I’ll tell you if I survived.”

  He hung up the phone. The inner child screamed for him to do it, but he mostly did it because he didn’t want to be talked out of it. There would never be enough of a threat to get him to avoid rescuing the girl he loved.

  It was nice to know Grandma would be safe.

  2

  The Osprey came in over the town low enough he could see the disaster unfolding everywhere on the ditch line. The dead had already crossed using the bodies of those stacked in the water as they were cut down by the defenders. When he last saw the ditch, he could imagine such a thing happening, but it seemed beyond the realm of possibility. Now, having seen it done, it looked pretty simple.

  The plane swung wide around the town, looped up north over the interstate, then made another tight loop over the center of town, giving he and Brandyweis time to study the situation.

  “The buildings look intact. The zombies are just now getting over that levee.” He pointed down to the defenders of the town. A line of citizens stood at the top of the big levee, and jousted with the advanced line of zombies as they came up the hill. But there were huge gaps in the defensive line, and some of the zombies were already on the backside of the levee.

  “Where's your Grandma’s house?”

  Liam looked down like he was looking at a map. He identified the central building he and Victoria had visited on the day he woke up and walked the few blocks back to where he thought he remembered the house. He pointed to a large field.

  “I think if you land there I can walk you in. It’s on that street; I’m pretty sure.” Being above the trees made it difficult to see all the homes nestled under the leaves, but it was his best guess.

  Brandyweis ordered the pilot to fly the Osprey south over the Missouri bridge, declaring he wanted to sweep the southern tip of the peninsula. A couple of Abrams tanks sat on a parking lot near the meeting point of the two rivers. Lots of people and a few other vehicles were close by, but he didn’t see any zombies.

  "Looks like they've got an evacuation plan. That's good," Brandyweis said. “Take your seat. We’ll touchdown where you said. We know what we're dealing with. We have to be quick.”

  Liam nodded. He was grateful the man had trusted him enough to travel all this way on the word of a kid. That’s what he felt, anyway. Somehow he was lucky enough to get rescued by Marines, then airlifted by Marines, all to rescue his family. Not many people would have the same backup.

  As soon as he felt the plane touch down, he was out of his seat. Brandyweis beat him to the back door. By the time it was down, they were both on the run.

  “It’s there. That’s it!”

  The yard where he playfully rolled with Victoria was just ahead. The yard, however, had been destroyed. He’d spent enough time with tanks to recognize the destruction one of them could do to the landscape. It had ripped through the backyard—flattening several of the small trees he’d searched for spears—and turned so it could go into the next yard and cross the street. Another swath of destruction began a few houses down, where it went back into the grass.

  They ran up to the walkway, but the Marine halted him.

  “Liam, we don’t know what’s inside. Let me make sure it’s clear before you go in? OK?”

  He immediately felt naked. He was unarmed.

  “Can I have a weapon?”

  He handed him a big knife. “This is all I have, besides Mike-Sixteen here.” He nodded down to his rifle.

  “Thanks.” It wasn't a shiny rifle, but at least it wouldn't cost as much when he inevitably lost it.

  When they reached the door, Brandyweis turned to him. “For what it’s worth, I respect what you’re doing. Saving your Grandma is very noble.”

  “I’m here for two people,” he answered. He was proud the military man thought so highly of him, but he’d had plenty of time to think things through on the plane. His mom and Grandma Rose both warned him against showing up here, though they were wrong—the town hadn’t yet fallen. But they were right, he was ashamed to admit, that it wasn’t really a smart play to come all this way for Grandma. Not if they knew she was safe already. Instead, his real reason for risking his life was Victoria. And, if he knew Victoria at all, the reason she was back in Cairo without him had to be because she was here for Grandma, as well.

  Find Grandma. Find Victoria.

  Brandyweis kicked the front door in. The distressed wooden frame gave way on the first attempt.

  Grandma wasn’t in the front room. It was a long shot that she’d be in the exact spot where he’d last seen her. The floor was covered with bedding and pillows. Like a mouse had been hoarding materials for its home.

  “Dang it; nothing is ever easy. I really hoped she’d be here,” Liam said with frustration.

  “Don’t worry, how far could a 104-year-old woman go?” Brandyweis tried to be funny, but Liam couldn’t laugh. Not after the day he’d had, and how close he’d come to finding her. “I’m sure she’s—”

  A shocking noise almost made him crap his pants. A fraction of a second later he knew it was a shotgun blast.

  A crazy-looking girl in the hallway had just used her shotgun to kill Brandyweis.

  3

  Liam was stunned. He saw the girl. Saw the shotgun. Saw what it did. Naturally, he knew the threat to himself. But he couldn’t move.

  An image of Yoga Girl flashed across his memory. Yep, he was frozen in inaction just like the very first encounter he’d had with a zombie.

  The girl came out of the darkened hallway, and Liam recognized her—sort of. Like someone he remembered by sight from his kindergarten class.

  “Liam!” the girl shouted with relief. “It’s you! I thought you two were zombies. I mean you broke open the door, and, like, came inside.”

  He couldn’t move. Or talk. Or think, he discovered.

  “Liam? It’s me. Debbie.” She was much too happy for what had just happened. He managed to turn his head to see the crumpled body next to his feet. The gun was right there, too.

  “Like, that was a close one, huh?” She pointed the shotgun to Brandyweis.

  “He wasn’t a zombie,” Liam said in a low voice, but with fiery anger.

  “Oh, I’m sure he was. Look at him. He’s, like, gooey, and stuff.”

  He wanted to reach out and wring her neck, but he still couldn’t move a muscle. The ringing in his ears reminded him, over and over, how close he’d just come to death. And he’d lost a friend.

  Then, just as he was getting his muscles to respond, he saw two people walk out from the rooms at the back of the hall. They were very old…

  “Liam. Before you complain, I, like, did try to get your grandma. I had her right here, in fact.” She pointed to the recliner chair. “But I got greedy. I, um, like found two more outside and was bringing them here when your grandma walked away. She escaped.”

  “What...what are you talking about?” His voice was quaking. The fear was still riding high.

  “Y
our grandma. I had her. I, like, kept her safe, and stuff. You know, just like you did.” She pointed to the other two elderly women. “See, I keep them safe like you showed me.”

  “I showed you?” He was absolutely sure he’d never interacted with her.

  “Oh yeah, I heard the story of how you got your Grandma out of the city when the zombies first came here, then, like, from that military camp in your bicycle, and how you rescued her from that terrible zombie factory downtown. Then, like, you got her into the plane.” She smiled widely. “Liam, you’re my hero. That’s why I’m, like, mimicking you.”

  The moment overcame him, he wanted to let out a great sob, which was how he felt inside, but instead he let out a deep roar of a laugh.

  Debbie was taken aback. “What’s wrong, Liam. Did I do something wrong? I, like, know your girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sorry. Is that why you’re mad?”

  “Is that why I’m mad?” he said with incredulity. “You mean you have no idea?” He pointed down. “You just—like—shot a good man. You don’t seem to care. And capturing little old ladies? What the hell is it you think I do out there?”

  It didn’t affect her in the way he expected. She didn’t react with anger.

  “Liam. You have it all wrong. I’m doing this to save them. Just. Like. You.” She giggled like a hyena. “You’ll see. I can show you,” she said excitedly, as if she just remembered her ability.

  “What? I’m not going anywhere with you.” Part of him expected the other Marines to come charging in after their fallen leader, but there were only three of them besides the two pilots. There was so much gunfire already in the town, the shotgun blast would be one pop among hundreds. Outside, other gunfire kept getting closer.

  “You have to. I have to show you. I want to make you proud of me.” Her shotgun pointed in multiple directions as she swung it around carelessly. But lots of time it was pointed at him, signalling he really had no choice.

  He had a dozen witty retorts, but the girl had something wrong with her. Clearly. The two ladies she’d “captured” looked terrified. He rolled his eyes.

  Here we go again.

  “All right. I’ll go with you. But only to help the two ladies you’ve got frightened to death.”

  Somehow he’d taken on the role of protector for the elderly. And, paradoxically, this Debbie person had keyed in on that and made it out to be something evil. Instead of protecting the aged, she was endangering them. Somewhere along the way, he would have his chance to put an end to this.

  They left the house out of the view of the Marines on the Osprey. Debbie was at least that smart. Or maybe it was dumb luck.

  They headed west, toward the towering bridge that went across to Missouri. He’d crossed the very same a half hour before. Back when a character named Lt. Colonel Brandyweis still existed in the world.

  Goodbye, sir.

  Chapter 18: Secret Mission

  John approached the house and stopped short of the front door. It had been kicked open, then shut again. The door jam was splintered.

  He looked back to the Osprey and his unit. They were down the street, shooting random walking zombies in the area. One quick glance north toward the meat of the approaching zombie horde now snaking its way through the streets of the town and he calculated his odds of getting back, getting more men, then checking the house. There wasn’t enough time.

  “Stick with me,” he said as he pushed through. Chloe followed, with one of her spears.

  “Oh, God.” An Army officer lay upon the wooden floor, among several sheets and pillows. His leg twitched pitifully as John watched. The spray of blood on the wall and floor was evidence of the level of violence which had practically removed the officer’s head. He'd been shot within the last several minutes.

  He rolled the man over so he could see his name tape. “Brandyweis. Marty had mentioned this man. He was involved in this, too, though I'm not sure how.”

  He hovered around the dead body while Chloe searched the house. In a moment, she called out. “They left through the back door. They can’t be far,” she said with a drop in her voice.

  “What is it?”

  “Zombies, sir. Lots of them.”

  Chloe walked back into the room. “Who shot him, sir?”

  “I don’t know. This day just keeps getting stranger...”

  His eyes fell upon the dead body. Was Brandyweis here to hurt Marty, or was he like him—trying to protect Ms. Peters from Elsa and her operatives. Maybe he was killed by a robber. Anything goes in anarchy.

  “Sir, there a shit-ton of zombies outside. We need to get back to the world.” She opened the front door to reinforce the urgency.

  He picked up the dead man’s rifle. No sense leaving it for the dead.

  They ran outside, then, out of duty, he walked up to the Marines. A couple of young women—filthy with blood, and screaming they were still alive—ran straight into the back of the plane. A small contingent of survivors huddled inside. “Did you guys hear a gunshot from inside the house? Your man is dead. Brandyweis.”

  Three guns were trained on him.

  He put his hands up, as did Chloe.

  “We didn’t kill him,” she stated loudly. “Someone used a shotgun to clip his head off.”

  The Marines shared a look, then lowered their weapons a little. One resumed sniping nearby zombies. More were on the way.

  If they were lying, there’d be no way to prove them wrong. There simply wasn’t time.

  The senior Marine spoke up. “There was a boy with him. Was he dead, too?”

  John turned to Chloe, who had searched the house. She shook her head.

  “No, son. We saw no one else in the house, but the back door was opened like someone had just left.”

  The Marine looked at the tanks and Humvees, then back at John.

  “I guess you’re leading this goat rope now, uh, sir. What are your orders, general?”

  Inwardly, John respected the Marines’ ability to roll with anything. A man in a white T-shirt walks up to them in the midst of a zombie overrun situation, and they calmly deferred to him as the most senior commander in the shitstorm. Of course, he could never utter complimentary words for a Marine in front of his own men.

  They talked for a minute about radio frequencies, the situation in the streets around them, and the plan he hoped to execute down at the southern tip of the town. But his last order was the most important.

  “Get this bird in the air. Get those civilians to safety,” he said while pointing to those in the back of the plane. He said it mainly to cover his own ass. There weren’t many townsfolk left alive, other than those who refused to leave their homes. But if the Marines saw any before liftoff, it would be good to authorize them to grab as many as possible. “And then I want you to head south to Wickliffe, Kentucky.” He pointed south. “It’s the next town down the river. That’s the rally point for what’s left.”

  “Understood.”

  “And Marine?” he shouted over the rotor noise.

  “Sir?”

  “I’m sorry about your CO.”

  With a grim nod, he went back to the defense of the aircraft for a moment. He said something to his two teammates, then ran inside.

  John ushered Chloe off the ramp, and toward his patrol.

  “Listen,” he said just loud enough for her to hear him. “I have a special job for you. You’ve done some good work on our defenses, and I can only trust this to someone who understands the big picture. My command has been compromised, though I think any traitors would have left a long time ago.”

  He stopped her midway between the tanks and the Osprey.

  “In that tank is a dear friend of mine. She’s 104. Her name is Marty Peters.”

  “The one you've been protecting,”

  He nodded and motioned to the tank.

  “If something should happen to me, I’m tasking you with keeping her alive. She is an enemy of my enemy, if that makes any sense to you.”

  “Perfec
tly, sir. But, sir, what if something does happen to you? Where do you want her to go?”

  She always goes right to the core of the problem.

  “That dead man in there was looking for Ms. Peters. The woman who left me for dead tried to have Ms. Peters killed. I walked in on that attempt and put a stop to it. Now, I’m...ah, I guess you'd say marked, because of that. It may be better if I didn’t tell you where to take her. If I’m killed, your life will be in danger.”

  He watched for her reaction.

  “Disappear. I can do that.” She reached out her hand to shake it when a Blackhawk helicopter caught his eye gliding low near the Missouri bridge—out over the barges below that span. There had been no such helicopters in Cairo since he’d been there, which suggested the people inside were not his.

  The back door of Marty’s house faced the Missouri bridge. Chloe said they’d run out the back door and must have gone in that direction. They certainly didn’t go north, into the zombie horde.

  “Sir, we’ve got to leave.”

  The ramp of the Osprey had already folded up. A couple 50’s on the roofs of the Humvees rattled and pointed at the arriving wave of zombies. Two runners actually passed John and Chloe as they stood there, only to be put down by the service pistol of one of the Humvee drivers. He’d held his gun out his window, gangster style.

  Everything is breaking down. And here I’m about to do something stupid.

  “Chloe, go. Take care of Marty.”

  “What about you?”

  He looked to the nearby bridge, and the chopper floating next to it.

  “I’ll catch up with you. Trust me!”

  He knew what he had to do to protect his men, his equipment, the old lady in Alpha-1, and any future they might have after today.

  He banged on Brandyweis’s rifle, then slung it over his shoulder. It was mostly to bolster himself for what he was about to do. He passed orders using the radio of the nearest Humvee, then ran.

  The Osprey glided up and leaned south. His ground team spun around and tore off, though they’d only get as far as the southern point of land at the confluence of the rivers. Unless Tom showed up with his miracle, it looked like saving the vehicles was going to be out of his hands. He breathed lighter knowing his men and women would escape, even if they had to swim.