“I'm going to jump for it,” Chloe huffed.
Marty remained seated on the hot steel of the deck and watched in helplessness as the gap widened between the free barge and those still moored together. The current wasn't very fast but seemed to want the boat in the middle of the channel rather than let it linger near the others.
Chloe ducked under the reaching arms of a man wearing nothing but a bright yellow raincoat and ran right toward the final edge. Marty held her breath because she thought the distance was too great to jump.
The running woman seemed to reach the same conclusion because she called off her jump and turned to run downriver on the long edge of the boats. The zombies kind of reorganized as if they sensed Chloe still hadn't escaped. The swarm pursued the only person left to grab.
“I'm out of ammo,” she called over with labored breathing.
“Me too,” Mark answered.
“I have a few rounds left,” Craig said while holding up his shotgun.
“I can make it,” Chloe wheezed. She then held out her rifle and wound up as if to throw it. “Watch out!”
Chloe side-armed her rifle so it flew toward the middle of the barge behind Marty and the others. The gun clanged onto the metal covering over the cargo hold before it came to a rest in one of the long grooves.
“I think she's coming to get her gun,” Mark said with a grin.
Marty looked downriver to a place where a few barges jutted further out into the river than the others. She glanced at Chloe and back to the place downstream and figured that was the same calculation the other woman had made.
Since the barge had no motor and they had no way to guide it, all Marty could do was watch where the current took them. She got back to her feet and looked into the wide gap between her and the other barges. A hand poked up from the filthy brown water and wiggled some fingers almost in a wave to her.
She didn't know what to do. Was it a trick of her tired eyes? Why would anyone be swimming in the river?
“You can do it!” Mark shouted.
“We're going to be close down there,” Craig added while pointing to the upcoming passing.
“Craig, Mark,” Marty said in a too-quiet voice.
Chloe paced the slow-moving barge as they all went down the river. She made great time running on the long walkways at the edge of each flat boat, but the jumps from one to the next sometimes required her to slow so she could judge distances. The zombies, led, it seemed, by the yellow-raincoat guy, sometimes fell in those gaps, but generally kept up with her.
Marty made her own calculations and worried they wouldn't be close enough for Chloe to jump aboard, even at the point nearest the parked fleet. In fact, they continued to drift out into the main channel.
And there are now two hands down there.
Marty froze with indecision. If Chloe missed the place where the barge was closest she might not ever get another chance to join them, but if she jumped and fell in the water it would also be very bad for her.
“I think I see zombies in the water,” Marty declared. Her soft voice hardly rose above the moans of the zombies chasing Chloe.
The free-floating barge was only yards from the closest point. She dared herself to look into the water one more time and she gasped at the sight. The hands were still there, bobbing in the swift current. A head was just beneath the surface, but it was hard to see in the dirt-brown water. It wasn't some vision she was having.
She called out again with as much volume as she could muster.
“There are zombies in the water!”
Her voice met Chloe already in the air.
3
Chloe was far more athletic than Marty would have guessed. She sprang from the parked barge and sailed a good ten feet above the hazardous water. The man with the raincoat tumbled in after her but the others stopped before they made that mistake.
Marty hadn't even thought of how the woman would grab onto anything once she got near the boat, but she aimed directly for the frayed rope the men had cut moments before.
“Oomph!” Chloe cried out when she hit the side.
“Hang on,” both men shouted in unison.
Marty bit her hand to keep from screaming. The barge decking was maybe five feet above the waterline, so Chloe's lower legs splashed in the water and up against the hull. The zombie hands seemed to float right for her.
Mark and Craig worked at pulling her up.
“Please get her out of there,” she said in a hopeful voice.
“Climb, woman!” Mark shouted over the side while he tugged her arms.
The hands in the water lunged just as Chloe's boots came out. Marty gasped as the zombie banged up against the hull and then seemed to get sucked underneath.
Chloe came up over the side and fell to the deck with a big smile on her face. The men sat next to her and caught their breath like they'd just run a marathon. Marty took a seat on the edge of the cargo hold so she didn't have to get down onto the deck itself.
Marty was reluctant to ask but had to know. “Did any of you see those hands in the water?”
“I saw the hands behind me,” Chloe joked.
“I didn't see anything. I was watching that sweet jump.” Mark pointed to Chloe sprawled on the deck.
She looked at Craig, but he simply shook his head.
Marty scanned the water one last time. Their ride had drifted into the middle of the channel and they were temporarily safe from the land-locked zombies still pining for them on the fleet of parked barges. The gaggle of zombies seemed to meander along the edge of the boats, but somehow knew the humans were out of reach.
A flash of yellow caught her eye drifting near the surface. The lead zombie's raincoat bubbled up to the top and floated downriver as if lost. Somewhere below the surface, that zombie man was now naked. She was certain there were at least two zombies down there.
Chloe seemed amped up. “Today is my lucky day,” she bragged while still trying to catch her breath. “There's a pier in that mess of boats and all the zombies walked right onto the barges from shore when they saw me. I can't believe I got away.”
“Thank you, Lord, for getting her to safety,” Marty said in a meek voice.
“Amen,” the wild-haired woman answered, somehow hearing her.
“Ma'am, I think we've escaped. I've got to be honest with you: When we were sitting in that garage I didn't think there was any way we'd get out of Cairo. Then when we saw all those zombies from up on the levee I figured we were dead. When we hit the river I also thought we'd had it. Now, running back to you guys I thought I was toast.”
She and the two men laughed together.
“But I'm beginning to think General Jasper was right about you. There is something special going on when we are in your presence. It's like you have a direct line to the almighty. There is no way we should even be alive right now.”
“Well, she did let me break my arm,” Craig said with a coy smile while still looking at Marty.
“Oh, I don't have anything special to do with all this,” she replied as she waved her arm in acknowledgement that “this” meant Cairo, the killing fields, and the nearby barges.
“Ma'am, I'll follow you to the end of time,” Mark said in jest.
Marty turned serious. She was flattered that these young people wanted to help her out, but she knew from hard experience anyone tagging along with her was bound to end up in a much worse state than when they started. Victoria had been shot for trying to protect her. Liam got into endless trouble because of her. How many people were dead expressly because they knew of her?
“I don't know,” she said sadly.
“What's wrong?” Chloe asked with reverence. “We've made it. We've escaped.”
Marty turned to watch the river for a few moments. Their barge was the biggest thing moving on the river. Driftwood, tree branches, a yellow raincoat, and a handful of water bottles floated along with them. The zombies chasing them had backed off and lost interest, so now it was just them
on the river. By all indications they did escape, but she didn't feel that way at all.
“You mentioned John Jasper,” Marty replied in a deeply tired voice. “He was a good man.”
“Yes, he was,” Chloe agreed.
“But I don't know if I'm worth all the people dying to protect me. He handed me off to you, but you didn't know what you were being given. I'm a ... “
Marty tried to think of the right word.
“Gift,” Chloe said without hesitation.
“I was going to say burden,” she replied.
“Everyone over sixty says the same thing. My dad is retired military and he never lets me help him with anything. He won't let me cut his grass, do his dishes, or toss his laundry in the wash without him reading me the riot act. And every damned time he says the same thing: I don't want to be a burden.”
Chloe lost some of her spunk.
“You aren't saying anything I haven't heard a million times already. However, Jasper put you in my care because he said you were special. After seeing how you remained calm and collected in the face of all these zombies, I never want to let you go. I felt calmer just being around you. Like I could do anything if I put my mind to it. There's no way I would have rammed my truck like that for anyone else.”
She looked at her two friends sitting to her right. “Sorry guys, no offense, but if it makes you feel any better I probably wouldn't have rammed the truck to save myself if I'd been alone.”
Both men smiled and took the slight with grace.
“But any plans you may have had to rejoin your grandson are probably ruined. For that, I am sorry.” She looked down the river in the direction they headed. A bridge loomed a mile ahead.
“To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Liam and Victoria said they were close to me while I was in Cairo, but now?” She looked to the west toward the ruined town. Lots of ash and smoke rose up behind the levee.
They all sat in silence while the barge spun in circles. Marty felt like her life of late had spun wildly out of control just like the boat under her. She bounced between numerous caretakers over the past few weeks and did little of her own volition. Oh, she knew Al tried to suggest she was doing enough just by surviving and that she had some critical tasks that would help humanity, but those were too big to think about day in and day out.
Minutes later, they approached the long bridge that linked Illinois with Kentucky. A few people still ran from west to east, but they had to climb over piles of junk stacked between the metal girders up there as some kind of roadblock.
Mark pointed up. “You think they are better off than us?”
“At least we have a ride,” Craig replied with a brief chuckle.
Marty watched as they went under the old bridge. For a few tense seconds it looked like they were going to slam into the support pylon in the middle of the river, but the barge seemed to veer away at the last possible moment. A few of the people on the bridge waved, but they were far too high to communicate back and forth, and no one dared jump from such height.
When they went a bit further on the water, they passed the mouth of the Mississippi River as it joined the Ohio. The water got choppy and for a short distance there was almost a straight line where the muddy water of the Ohio met the comparatively cleaner water of the other river.
Not far up that channel she got a good look at the ruins of the bridge linking Illinois with Missouri. It had been bent and broken near the Missouri shore, but the rest of the span was still intact. The greenish metal girders stood high above the roadway.
Was Liam up that way, she wondered. He mentioned he'd been on a barge.
There was no way to know, but she stared in that direction until she lost sight of both bridges when the barge carried them around a bend in the river. The number of parked barges also dwindled to nothing, as if their keepers didn't want them too far from the town. Thirty minutes later there were no signs of man anywhere along the riverbanks.
She took a deep breath of the damp river air because it reminded her of family fishing and boating trips. It would be impossible to count all the times she'd been out on or near the water, but the muddy banks and sickly decay of fish provided powerful jogs of her memory. She savored it for a little while until that yellow raincoat appeared again. It swirled in a nearby eddy and reminded her that the water was no longer a happy place.
Marty tried to make herself comfortable on the hard deck of the ship but figured it was a lost cause. She resolved that if she was going to be kept awake with discomfort she would use the time wisely.
I'm not letting my guard down for a second.
She searched intently for that raincoat in the water, sure it was still nearby.
A minute or two after making her pledge, she felt herself drift off to sleep.
I'll nap for five minutes.
4
“What time is it?” Marty said as she opened her eyes in the dim light of the world. With the meandering path of the river and the endless spinning of the barge she had no idea which way was east or west, thus she had no way of knowing if it was dusk or dawn.
The cooler air suggested it was dawn and her aching bones agreed.
“Five-something in the morning,” Mark said.
Marty groaned heavily when she sat up straight. At some point in the night she'd fallen over on her side. Someone had moved her closer to the side rail of the boat, or she'd gotten up and moved herself. She had no memory of it, either way.
“Sorry we didn't have a pillow for you,” Mark added. “It was a suck night for all of us.”
Craig still had his eyes closed on the far side of Mark. The dawn light was just bright enough to see his pasty white face.
A feminine shape stood at the front of the boat.
“How's she doing?” Marty asked him while looking to Chloe.
“Dunno. She was up there before I woke up. She could have been standing there all night for all I know.”
Marty waited a minute to see if her back was going to stop it's complaining.
“Mark, dear, will you help me to my feet? I'd like to go up front.”
“Sure.” He helped her up and steadied her arm until she seemed ready to move.
“Thank you, I'll be fine.” Walking was always a challenge at her age, but today her legs felt unusually strong.
A thin layer of fog hovered just above water level, giving the river a mystical quality. The barge floated almost halfway between both shores and the front end happened to be facing downriver like it should.
“Good morning, Chloe. Did you get any sleep?”
“A little. How did the rest of you sleep through all the barge traffic?”
“There was traffic?” Marty looked around in surprise.
“It's long gone. We got passed by about twenty towboats pushing one or two barges in front of them. They were nimble enough to avoid hitting us but careless enough that they didn't stop to rescue us. I waved at a couple of them and they just kept going.”
“I heard ‘em,” Mark added. “I just couldn't lift myself off the metal because I was too tired to care.”
Chloe turned to face Marty. “May I hold your hand? I'd like to avoid having you fall into the water.”
She glanced over the front edge of the decking with a wary eye. “I wouldn't say no to such a polite offer.”
The orange-haired woman put her arm through the crook of Marty's elbow and held fast. When they turned forward together, she spoke again.
“I thought I heard trucks on the shore and once I even saw some headlights, but that was hours ago. When I fell asleep I had ten dreams about crashing this barge into something, can you believe it?”
Marty looked at the pretty young woman who had done so much to save her. “You like being in control of things, don't you?” Marty spoke softly so the others couldn't hear her.
“Ya. I guess that comes from being in a military family and serving two tours in Iraq myself. My Type-A personality refuses to accept we are floating d
own this river without the proverbial paddle. Even when we reach the shore I have no idea what I'm supposed to do to keep you alive. We've basically run out of ammo. We have no food. No transportation. No destination. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“You did your best with what you had. The general couldn't have found a more capable person to take care of me. You have to believe that, dear.”
“Maybe,” she replied wistfully.
“You know, it's funny, but I get these voices in my head telling me what to do to stay alive. Sometimes they guide me in the right direction, but this is so big and complicated no one could know how to make the right choices in every situation. That's why I end up in the hands of friends and family a lot.”
Marty chuckled before continuing.
“I used to think that was a bad thing, but I've met some of the best of humanity since this disaster started.” Marty tapped Chloe on the elbow. “You are one of the brightest stars I've had on my journey. For that, I thank you.”
Chloe responded with a faint smile. “You're welcome. And I have to be honest with you about something else. Yesterday, I said I wasn't sure if I could have rammed the truck to save my own life. I had to fight zombies to get to southern Illinois. I had to fight the infected with my team of Zombie Killers inside and around Cairo. I had to fight through those creatures to get you to safety because Jasper gave me that task. But Marty, if I was on my own now I'm not sure I could do any of it, you know?”
Marty peered into the woman's deep blue eyes as the morning kept getting a little brighter. Chloe fought back tears.
“If I ran out of people to fight for, I might just give up. You saw those millions of zombies out there. There is a whole world of zombies beyond this little piece of America. It's too much for one person to stay alive.”
Marty nodded, wishing she knew the right words. With so much darkness in the world she found comfort in her faith, but she didn't presume to suggest that's what drove everyone else. Liam once promised her he would think about going back to church, but now there were no churches. She didn't even have a bible to read.
Marty got lost in thought longer than she realized.
Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7 Page 203