Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  He took a few steps backward and leaned against a small bush on the side of the house to wait.

  Waiting was his expertise.

  It wasn't long before the front door of the house opened. Zombie Robert sensed the vibration and took that as his cue to move back up to the porch.

  The boy stood not twenty feet away, but he carried guns. The painful sticks he knew so well.

  There was something inside him that wanted to rush the porch and meet up with the boy, but it shared a place with another voice that wanted him to remain still where he stood. It seemed the safer choice.

  Zombie Robert stood there for a long time as the boy and his friends mounted the machine on the lawn and rode it out of his sight.

  He felt something that living Robert would have known as loss. He'd been very close to his target and now that target was speeding away.

  The zombie ran after the truck as it rolled over the gravel of the driveway, but he had to turn away as it neared the roadway. There were other big trucks and their lights would find him. The boy's truck joined the others and faded into the night until it was a tiny red light on the horizon.

  Unable to feel frustration or despair, Robert had nothing else to do but follow the scent for as long as it took.

  However, less than a mile down the road the wind caught him just right and he smelled something even more powerful than the boy. Someone else shared his blood and demanded his attention.

  He stopped to sort through the two competing directives.

  The boy was close.

  The new scent was far.

  The boy was moving away.

  The new scent seemed to be getting closer.

  Zombie Robert had no capacity for surprise or elation, but a word crept up from deep inside his broken mind. It had some residual power from when he was alive, and it came out as the closest thing to excitement for a zombie.

  Mother.

  Despite the powerful draw of the word, he was unable to decide for many minutes which way he should go. He became as still as a scarecrow in the dark cornfield until a new stimulus interrupted him.

  “Reorient. Reacquire.” Those two words stood out from the noise in his brain. He felt compelled to obey them immediately. Zombie Robert might have remembered such words from his time in Korea.

  He turned around in the field and headed in a new direction. He wanted to meet her so bad, though none of those words were possible in his ruined brain pan. Yet, that strange longing gave him purpose and drive he didn't have up until that moment.

  That's when he figured out how to sprint.

  He ran all night in the flat fields and he only stopped at the break of dawn when he finally saw her. The woman who he would have called mother stood on a floating box on the big water.

  Swim.

  He didn't wait a further second once he saw the woman and jumped right into the water to go to her. Zombie Robert couldn't know that normal Robert wasn't a swimmer. It didn't care. A skill was required to reach “mother” and so he used it.

  The brown water presented no challenge for him because he didn't need air. When the current buffeted him and dragged him to the bottom he used that to spring himself downstream at top speed. After minutes of repeating that action he neared the great floating box.

  There was no way to grip the boat and climb to his Mother. It was wet and smooth on the outside everywhere he looked. At one point he came up from under the hull and found his Mother looking right at him.

  He ducked back into the water despite the deep longing to reach her. The others on the box had the long sticks that could hurt him. He chanced one more look at her from under the waves, but she still watched.

  In his zombie way, Robert wished his mother would leave those with the dangerous sticks and come meet him in the water. That strange sensation filled his zombie brain until there was nothing more important than having her come to him. It almost felt like a skill he'd developed. Running. Sprinting all night. Swimming. These were skills, too.

  Now, he tapped into the new one.

  Jump to me, Mother.

  Jump to me so I can taste your life-giving blood.

  At least, that's what he would think if he had a brain.

  Seconds later, someone splashed into the water next to him.

  Mother?

  Chapter 14. MRAP swim club

  Day 21. Morning. On the bank of the Mississippi River.

  “Do you think Grandma was surprised to see me?” Jerry asked.

  Lana watched the floating barge over her shoulder as she climbed in the back of the MRAP. Mel jumped in the front and had it going the moment the back door was shut.

  “She might not have heard you were dead,” Lana replied with a coy smile. She was so happy to have her husband back she'd probably never get tired of that feeling of reunion.

  “Yeah, I guess you're right. I figured the first thing she'd say to me is that I'm looking good for a dead man, and then I could reply with the line about how my death has been greatly exaggerated.”

  “Hey zombie, you guys need to stop talking about death,” Phil called back from the front seat with a laugh.

  “Well, you try dying and coming back to life and see if you can shut up about it,” Jerry replied.

  Lana laughed along with the two men because they'd been ribbing each other constantly as they got reacquainted. Jerry gave the ex-cop trouble for bragging how much he enjoyed dating Mel, the driver. The kicker was that Mel hated all the men in their group when she first arrived at Lana and Jerry's doorstep.

  Phil got back at him by poking fun at how he'd spent time as a zombie.

  She didn't think it was tactful, but the apocalypse changes everyone.

  “Oh, shit!” Mel screamed.

  Before Lana could ask what's wrong, she slid down the bench seat and hit the back door because the heavy military truck accelerated.

  “What is it?” Lana finally got out.

  Jerry sat next to her and together they held onto the loose seat belts while the truck bounced on the rocky shore.

  “You, uh, won't believe me,” Mel said as she worked the steering wheel, brakes, and gas of the truck like a highly-skilled maestro.

  Phil turned back to the passenger compartment. “Your grandmother fell overboard.” He was gravely serious, now.

  “We can catch them,” Mel added.

  “Then what?” Lana asked of Jerry.

  “Is this thing amphibious?” he replied. He then asked the same question in a louder voice to the pair in the front.

  “No,” Mel answered right away. “We'd sink like a rock.”

  “Then what are we doing?” Lana said. But she quickly added, “I mean, what can we do to help her?” She tried to look out one of the small porthole windows on the side of the truck, but they were moving too fast and her weight shifted as Mel maneuvered along the riverbank.

  “I'm trying to get in front of them. Then one of us can swim out there ... ” Mel let that hang in the air before looking over to Phil. “That makes sense, right?”

  Phil's reply was only meant for Mel, but she heard it well enough.

  “They said zombies were in the water. How do we fight them?”

  Mel continued driving and didn't answer.

  “I'll go, too,” Lana called up to them.

  “Then I'm going--” Jerry replied in an instant.

  “No, you swim like a cat on bath day. No way.” Lana said it jokingly, but it was the truth. Jerry was a lot of things, but he didn't mix with water.

  Jerry wanted to argue, and she saw the conflict on his face, but he knew she was right.

  “I want you standing behind me with a rifle. Shoot anything that comes close to us.” Lana pointed to the rack of AR's lashed against the bulkhead of the MRAP. Mel and Phil came prepared.

  Jerry spoke in a voice only she could hear. “Are you sure? I know I could swim out there because it isn't that far.”

  She admired his persistence and recognized he was trying to play the hero
without being loud enough for the others to hear their discussion. He knew as well as her that her way made the most sense. Still, being the man, he had to try to get himself into the maximum amount of danger.

  “I can't have you dying again,” she said in jest as she tried to touch his cheek. It came across as more of a slap because the truck hopped and slid to a stop.

  “This is the end,” Mel shouted. “Nothing but mud ahead.”

  She and Jerry let go of the seat belts and got to business. He pulled one of the black rifles from its cradle and she pushed open the back doors.

  It took her eyes a second or two to adjust to the brightness of the day outside the dim truck, but it was impossible to miss the lone barge floating a hundred feet out in the current. Mel had managed to get them in front of the boat, but it would pass them in the next thirty seconds, max.

  She untied her boots and kicked them off like it was a race, then she danced her way on the rocky shore right up to the water's edge. Jerry was at her side by the time she was ready to jump in.

  Mel didn't even wait to say anything to them. She jumped out of the MRAP with her gun and ran down the shoreline toward the mud flat.

  Phil ran up next to Lana and tossed off his already-untied boots.

  “You ready?” he said.

  “Go!” she replied.

  There was no time to kiss Jerry or otherwise make a scene. All she did was wave and he did the same in return. The water was at her waist before she belatedly called back to him.

  “I love you, Jerry Peters. Don't you go dying on me again.”

  “Don't you die on me,” he replied before hastily adding, “and I love you, too.”

  It struck her how dangerous it was to get in the water with zombies.

  He must really trust me.

  Before she got too far into the water she yanked Liam's knife from her belt and gripped it with her right hand. It might slow her down a tiny bit but there was no way in hell she was going into deep water without some way to protect herself.

  She noticed Phil had his own knife out.

  The shirtless man gave her a grim nod and then launched himself into deeper water.

  “We're coming grandma!” she shouted. The barge was almost parallel to the shore now and she'd have to hustle to keep up with it.

  Fortunately for her, the current helped guide her in the right direction.

  2

  She and Phil reached the rust colored barge hull at about the same time. The current swirled sticks and other small pieces of debris in random directions as if the boat was causing the turbulence. She expected to find grandma right there fighting for her life to stay afloat, but she was nowhere to be found.

  “They are floating away!”

  Lana looked up to the deck of the boat. A lone man leaned over the edge and pointed into the water just ahead of them. He nursed one of his arms like he'd been hurt.

  “Where are the others?” Lana shouted back.

  “Swimming!” He continued to point ahead.

  Phil had been doing his best to hold onto the smooth hull of the boat but now used it to push himself away.

  “We have to swim,” he said to her.

  The current was her best friend for the next few moments as it jetted her with a speed she could never do on her own. In short order they caught up to the first swimmer.

  “She was right here!” an orange-haired woman shouted.

  Lana scanned the water for any sign of life. If they were on a still pond they might be able to use wave action and bubbles to hone in on the drowning person, but out here it was all bubbles and waves. The water was a silty mud-brown and it endlessly swirled in fast-moving eddies and whirlpools.

  The three of them floated along for twenty or thirty seconds as they all searched the churn for grandma.

  Finally, the old woman's head shot out of the water a few feet away from Lana.

  “Shit! Here she is!” she shouted to the others.

  Marty had her eyes closed but breathed out with obvious relief at finding air again.

  “Robbie, no,” Marty cried out. “Why are you doing this?”

  Lana shifted to be next to Marty, but the current swept her away just a bit faster.

  “Marty! It's us!” Lana cried out.

  Marty opened her eyes. “Victoria?”

  “No, it's--” Lana began.

  “Chloe! Marty, it's Chloe. Where is Mark?”

  Lana watched as the frail woman seemed to make a left turn in the water as she entered one of the powerful eddies. She had to pull hard against the water to keep up with her and then get into the same current.

  Phil made a similar move and entered the swirling patch of water from the far side. The three of them spun around like they were on a carnival ride while continuing down the river.

  “Marty, we have to get you out of the water.” She ignored how much she wanted to get out, too.

  “No. No, you can't. He won't let you. He's here to take me home.”

  Lana looked at Phil and saw he was just as confused as her, but he swam over to Marty and took her in his arms.

  “She's been acting strange,” Chloe shouted from outside the swirl. She chopped at the water to get into the proper current but seemed to have trouble keeping up.

  “And where's Mark?” Chloe added.

  Lana didn't have time to figure it all out. “Phil. Help me get her ashore, right.”

  “Way ahead of you,” he replied as he treaded water. “We're coming up on a dike.”

  Downriver there was a line of big rocks sticking out into the river like it was meant to keep the water away from shore. If they could reach it in time it would save them some extra swimming all the way to the riverbank itself.

  Lana felt something hit her leg and thought it was a rock or tree stump.

  She kicked her legs and then tried to tuck them in to avoid hitting more rocks, but that made it harder to float in the whirlpool.

  “We're almost there,” she advised Phil.

  Jerry and Mel ran together on the shore to stay with them. They had to crawl over some big trees that fell along the bank but managed to keep up pretty well. With Jerry watching over her it was all going to turn out fine.

  Something grabbed her foot and it wasn't a rock.

  “Holy!”

  She didn't have time to finish her thought because her mouth was full of water as she went under the surface.

  Lana screamed out of reflex but stopped when it became clear she was in serious trouble and needed to hold her breath.

  It was impossible to see anything as she was held under by the anchor on her leg. She knew it was a hand when a second one grabbed her. That sent her along the razor's edge of panic.

  She did her best to kick, but that had no effect. Even in her frantic state she knew a zombie would never be kicked off.

  Lana hunched over, so she could wield the knife already in her hand. The current twirled her around, but the zombie ensured she didn't accidentally float away.

  She slashed at the hands and arms like a madwoman. She dealt out several pokes, then used the serrated edge to dig into flesh down to the bone.

  But still the thing held fast to her leg.

  The seconds ticked by and she admitted to herself the panic was real. Her chest heaved as her body tried to collect air.

  No, I don't die like this. My son needs me.

  A million thoughts swirled through her brain just as the muddy water twirled her around in circles in the river. She saw Liam in her mind's eye just moments after he was born. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her entire life.

  Nope. This isn't it.

  Using every ounce of her strength she bent even further down and used the arms of the zombie as anchors to pull herself closer to it. She worried in that instant about putting her hand into its mouth and ending up dead anyway, but that was a price she was willing to pay if she was able to do her final act.

  She reached the head of the man and managed to avoid
the face completely. She felt his ear and grabbed onto his hair. It was just long enough to get a good, solid grip.

  Then she started poking the face.

  Die!

  There were stars in her eyes before she felt the hands release her leg. One of her attacks hit home by passing through the face and entering the brain. It was horrific to think about doing such awful acts, but if it got her back to the surface and back to her beautiful Liam ... she was willing to do it.

  With a final kick she reached for the surface.

  Her body made her open her eyes because she had to know how far she was from life-giving air. Even through the muddy haze she knew she was inches from it.

  A single inch.

  Her fingers felt the air.

  An instant before salvation something else grabbed her leg and pulled her back down.

  She didn't even have time to be disappointed.

  3

  Lana expected to wake up in Heaven or maybe never wake up at all. The fact that the thought passed through her brain suggested she ended up somewhere after meeting her fate at the hands of the zombie in that river.

  “Zombie!” she shouted and sat up.

  Jerry knelt next to her and held her arm as if she was going to get up and run away.

  Phil stood nearby with Marty in his arms. The old woman leaned heavily into the shirtless man and smiled at her.

  Mel stood in the background with her rifle at the ready.

  And the woman she guessed was Chloe knelt on her other side.

  “Hi, just relax,” Chloe advised.

  “I'm alive?” Lana replied with disbelief.

  “Yeah, welcome back to zombie hell,” Jerry said with a chuckle. “You made it.”

  “I drowned,” she said as if it was big news.

  “Yeah, your foot got caught in between two of the rocks along the front face of the dike. Phil here got Marty to shore and then saw your hand reaching up just below the surface.”