Since The Sirens Box Set | Books 1-7

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Let's get up there!” she replied, finally getting her thought process back.

  Each stroke brought them closer to the bank, but she was convinced the zombies were playing games with them. There is no way they'd let them go that easily, right? When her feet finally touched the bottom, she kicked off, thinking it was a zombie.

  “We made it,” she said breathlessly. The bank was steep, so she grabbed onto a tree root to steady herself, then she extended her hand to Liam. He smiled as she pulled him up and he hopped out of the water. She scrambled up after him, not wanting to spend an extra second with her shoes in the water. By the time Liam could reach an arm to help her to dry land, she was already there.

  They both crouched next to the tree's roots while catching their breath, but they didn't waste any time because the moans of zombies was thick on the air.

  “We have to keep moving,” he said between his heaving breaths.

  She finally looked out onto the water and where they were relative to the bridges.

  “Liam, we're on the wrong side,” she said when she realized she'd taken him to the closest shore instead of the one to the north.

  He scanned the area as if seeing it for the first time.

  “Hmm, you're right, but we're not going back in the water.”

  “Thank God,” she said with real relief.

  She took the deepest breath she could, sucking air all the way down into the deepest pockets of her lungs. The ones that can only be reached when life itself is at stake. After holding it for a few seconds, she exhaled most of the fear.

  It felt better now that she was out of the water. She managed to get her panic back in the closet, but it was only one blood-splashed half-body from jumping back out. The forest slope was probably full of them.

  “Now we climb?” she took a few steps toward the steep hill that would get them back up to the highway.

  “Now we escape,” Liam replied with a touch of his previous good humor.

  6

  They went up the wooded incline from the waterway toward the highway but paused at a small wooden fence.

  “I used up all my ammo,” Liam said as he hopped the fence in one easy jump. His chest still rose and fell from their exertion in the water. The hop barely added to it.

  “You want mine?” she asked with similar effort to catch her breath.

  “If I had the time I might split the load between both our guns, but you are the better shot anyway. Just make them count when we get into trouble.”

  “You didn't say, if, we get into trouble,” she said in jest.

  “No, we're totally gonna get into trouble in a few minutes.” He pointed up the hill.

  “We could run the other way,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Would you?” he asked.

  She thought about it as she hopped the fence. “No, I guess not. We have to get back on that truck. Whatever hornet's nest we just kicked over has to be stopped.”

  “Wouldn't it be funny if this was someone besides Elsa and her people? Can you imagine dialing up more enemies for us to deal with?”

  She chuckled quietly. “And to think some teens are sitting in their quiet little fallout shelters playing games on their phones.”

  “And you get stuck out here with me,” Liam whispered.

  Ahead, she saw movement up near the roadway.

  “I wouldn't mind a quiet day or two but being with you feels like I'm doing something worthwhile. I want to have kids someday, too, and I don't want them to get the idea I just sat on my big fat butt while other people did all the important stuff to make things right after the zombies came.”

  Liam put his hand in his front pocket like he was going to take out his wallet, but then he seemed to change his mind.

  “Almost there,” he said.

  They walked in silence for a few moments. She'd just dumped a whole truckload of innuendo that Liam normally would have pounced on in a heartbeat. She mentioned having kids and her own posterior. It wasn't her intention to talk so glibly about those things, but after surviving that terrible swim, making babies and talking about butts were attractive alternatives.

  The fact that Liam didn't rise to either one reminded her how much danger they still faced.

  Liam pointed up the hill and moved his two middle fingers like legs walking along.

  The infected were ahead.

  He gestured in a line parallel to the roadway and motioned for her to follow. They went along the base of the small hill created by the bridge abutments, but after a few minutes, he stopped. “We need to get up on the highway and see where Dave is. We can't let him drive by without stopping.”

  “You think he'd do that to us?” she whispered. Dave's truck was still nearby because she heard the engine and brake noises, but judging by the volume, it was on the other side of the bridge.

  “Do you?” He exhaled through his teeth. “I don't think he would on purpose, but he saw me jump from the bridge, and he probably can't go looking for us even if he wanted to. We have to make it obvious we're still alive and escaped all those zombies he chucked over the side.”

  “Makes sense.”

  She followed him up through the trees until they were out in the tall grass next to the highway. From their new vantage point, they had a great view of hundreds of men and women walking in all different directions around the bridge complex. Most faced away from them because Dave's truck was over there, but more than a few looked their way, too.

  “Dave is still driving away,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “He'll turn around,” Liam stated as fact.

  “What do we do if he doesn't?” she asked. “We always plan for the worst, right?”

  Liam seemed quieted by her statement, but she didn't mean anything by it.

  “You couldn't have known there'd be a bomb, Liam. I thought it was a great plan. Foolproof, as you said.”

  He seemed to think on it for a minute before replying. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe I got a little cocky. I was in the bright sunshine, I was about to dump some zombies in the toilet, and my girl was by my side. I should have thought through everything that could have wrecked my perfect strategy.”

  “He's coming back. I see him.” She pointed up the highway. Dave's rig headed onto the southbound bridge where the explosion took place. It was also where the most zombies still stood around.

  “This is going to be messy,” he said. “We have to run.”

  Liam faced the bridges, so she thought he meant run toward Dave.

  “No, we should run that way,” she replied pointing to the south.

  Liam turned to look at her and her pointer. “You and I think alike. That's what I meant, actually. We have to put as much distance as we can from those things. He can't pick us up if there are zombies all over us.”

  “I wouldn't mind putting some distance from them, either,” she said in an agreeable voice. “Though my running shoes are all squishy.”

  She leaned from side to side to make the water bubble out of her orange sneakers.

  “Come on, we have to take our chances. I know we can outrun them, because I did it when I went to find you. I needed to be with you again, so I ran from downtown to Forest Park in one pull.”

  He trotted up the last part of the hill.

  She melted at his words. It was nice to be wanted.

  “I'm right behind you,” she said with the same saucy tone Liam often used when he wanted her to know he was checking her out.

  “I wouldn't want it any other way,” he called back.

  She laughed until they reached the pavement. The lonely yellow slashes between the lanes pointed right back to the bridge and a trough of bloody zombies and half-people. The guardrails were dripping blood and other gore. There were still a lot of zombies on the span, but most looked over the sides or stood outside of Dave's flight path. Almost as if they feared the truck would come through again.

  She noticed the white pillowcase sitting where they'd left it. “Our ammo supply. W
e need that.”

  “We have more in the truck. Let's forget about that one.”

  “I'm not going to argue,” she whispered.

  “Run,” he said in a cautious tone. “I think they're distracted.” He didn't turn to her, but kind of pushed her back to get her going.

  She turned to obey, but a tall man in hospital scrubs came out of the median, almost on all fours. He stood up and lunged for her with arms outstretched.

  “Shittake!” she shouted with surprise while raising her rifle. Her

  Zombies were normally bloody messes on their faces, but this man had the worst case of road rash she'd ever imagined. It appeared as if he'd been dragged along the highway and his forehead, nose, and chin had been used as the skid plate. The revulsion and desire to put him down was instinctual.

  Liam tried to stop her by reaching for her gun, but she squeezed the trigger and put a shell right in its flat face.

  The report of the shot seemed louder for some reason.

  “Sorry for grabbing,” Liam said while pulling at her sleeve. “I thought we could avoid trouble.”

  Movement caught her eye in the median and on the southbound lanes on the far side of the grassy middle area. “They're all over.”

  “Yeah, Dave dumped ‘em everywhere.” Liam laughed nervously.

  “Just run!” she yelled.

  Liam trotted and then ran, and she followed a moment later.

  He let her catch up and then they jogged together as fast as they could maintain the pace. The grass along the highway hadn't been cut in weeks, so it was two or three feet tall. A few zombies crawled on the pavement ahead of them, as if they never got off the roadway once they fell out of the truck, but others lurked in the tall grass next to it.

  When they saw the living humans they moved toward them like bears to honey.

  She was surprised how fast she became winded and for the first time in her life realized she was out of shape. Their diet had been horrible the past few weeks and exercise for fun was a thing of the past. Lack of sleep, pressing stress, and swimming for the first time in years, also contributed to her fatigued state.

  She had to say something to get her mind off how surrounded they were.

  “Oh, god, I'm my mom,” she blurted out.

  “What do you mean?” Liam glanced over to her.

  “Mom always complains about being old. ‘Don't get old, Victoria, because everything starts to break down,' she would say. We'd laugh together, and I'd think nothing of it.”

  She tried to avoid looking at the fast-walkers hanging out in the weeds ahead of them. As long as they kept moving at a good clip, they had a chance of slipping by before they could get grabbed, but it was going to be close.

  “She loved running, too, and always complained how she didn't have time for it anymore. I never thought I would feel the same way, but we aren't exactly eating healthy, if you know what I mean.” Her voice sounded winded and a little beaten, which is how she felt inside.

  “Don't think about that. Think about those chocolate chip cookies we had back in your dorm room-”

  “You ate them, not me,” she replied quickly.

  He laughed. “Yeah, sorry about that. Think about cookies, and soda, and Pop-Tarts, and the stuff of civilization.”

  She briefly looked down at her soaked clothes and the dirt caked on her recently painted red nails. “I'd kill for a shower.”

  They ran in silence for a few paces. Her breathing was much louder than his.

  “I'd like a shower, too,” he added in his hopeful boyfriend voice.

  “You need one,” she tried to say in a joking way, but her strained tone made it seem more like a demand.

  “Just find a rhythm that works for you, Victoria, and we'll make it home.”

  “Sorry about that,” she wheezed. “I was trying to be funny.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I caught a whiff of myself coming out of that river.”

  “No, I meant-”

  He didn't let her finish. “I know what you meant. It's all good.”

  They ran side-by-side as more zombies rose from the weeds and grass.

  His encouragement helped immensely, and she settled in and started to feel better with each footfall.

  At least until the sounds of brakes and skidding tires filled the air far behind her.

  7

  “Dave stopped!” she shouted after confirming over her shoulder. “Why did he stop?”

  “I don't know,” he said between breaths. “We have to keep moving.”

  She laughed despite the gravity of their situation. “I'll run until you fall over, Liam. Don't worry about me.” She was talking a good game, but she felt more out of sorts than any run she'd been on before, including those first ones after the winter when she was most out of shape.

  “Just like any other foot race,” he said in a sensible voice.

  When she looked back at Dave she noticed one of the female zombies was power walking and almost keeping up with them. The woman had been dressed in a blue pantsuit, like she was a banker or executive. She was in such good shape, even for a zombie, that Victoria imagined she used her lunch hours to walk a few miles each day.

  She stopped, spun around, and held her breath. The air immediately begged to be let back in her lungs. It only took a couple of seconds to bring the rifle to bare on the power-suited zombie, but her eyes were aflutter with black dots as she pulled the trigger.

  The woman fell flat on her face.

  Victoria hunched over and sucked in several quick breaths.

  Other zombies were on their tail, but none were as close as the woman had been.

  Liam was many paces ahead, but he'd slowed.

  “You coming?” he asked with concern.

  She stood up and started after him, while trying to pretend she wasn't dizzy from lack of oxygen.

  “See,” Liam puffed, “that's why I gave you the ammo.”

  Her boyfriend turned around just as a red-shirted zombie came up onto the pavement and lurched for him. Liam hefted his rifle behind his shoulder and swung it by the barrel toward the zombie man's head.

  Victoria looked away at the last second but heard the shattering crack of its skull. She had to hop over the body because she was too tired to go around it, but her foot slipped a little in the pool of blackish blood when she landed on the other side.

  “Whoa,” she croaked. She managed to keep her feet, but it sent shockwaves into her leg muscles because of the abuse.

  Keep your feet, girl.

  Victoria had to know how long was left, so she glanced over her shoulder again to see how close Dave had gotten, but she almost whined when the truck was still on the north side of the bridge.

  “What's he doing back there?” she complained.

  The engine sounds revved up and down, so it was clear Dave hadn't just parked his truck, but it was too much to turn around and study his methods.

  “Just don't stop,” Liam wheezed.

  For all her practice over the years, Victoria felt terrible that she wasn't putting on a runner's clinic with Liam. They'd done plenty of running of late, including that stretch from the river to the farmhouse, but the swimming had done her in.

  Dave's truck hit a few gears and made the sounds of a big rig on the move. His horn blared again but that turned out to be a bad thing.

  Heads popped up from the grass far ahead like prairie dogs scanning for hawks. All the rest of the zombies he'd dropped along the highway seemed to come to life.

  “Aw Dave, man, you're killing us.” Liam's voice sounded as bad as hers.

  She gripped her rifle knowing she'd have to use it.

  A small dark-haired woman emerged from the wavy grass as Liam got close. Her dress was the color of the dirt farm fields, like she'd been wallowing in a pig's mud puddle. He was half-watching over his left shoulder and didn't see the dirty woman coming from his right.

  “Liam, wait!” she yelled.

  She stopped and got to a kneeling
position. She couldn't hold her breath without seeing stars. While her chest ran wild, she did her best to line up the shot because the woman was only a few yards from Liam. He noticed her at the last second, but it was too late.

  Victoria let off three quick shots, but only the third connected with the target. The woman acted weird as she fell to the pavement near Liam's shoes. Instead of a messy face plant like most zombies, she seemed to lay down and curl up into a ball like it was time for bed.

  There was no time to think about it. She stood back up, swayed a bit as her eyes danced with black spots, and then continued to trot behind her fellow runner.

  A long minute later, Liam slowed down as bad as her.

  “Hey Liam, you want a drink of water?”

  “I hate you,” he replied with a grim laugh.

  “Yeah, I love you, too,” she said.

  The sound of Dave's engine got closer behind her, but she couldn't determine the exact distance. She also felt that if she turned around one more time, she might tip over and die.

  Her feet slammed the pavement as the humid heat of the morning created a blanket of smothering sweat. They couldn't have gone half a mile, but it felt like an ultramarathon to her.

  The stars in her eyes made it hard to concentrate on anything but putting one foot in front of the next. A couple of times she might have felt the touch of zombies as they lunged for her, but she managed to keep her wits and not trip over or get caught.

  Liam bowled into a teen girl and sent her skittering off the side of the road. He kept running, but the girl got right back up and oriented on Victoria as she trailed behind. She was far too tired to push the girl herself, so she raised her rifle and tried to shoot while on the move.

  She ripped off an unknown number of shots but missed them all. The girl hissed at her, perhaps as a kind of mocking gesture, and then scrambled to her like it was her turn to attack.

  The rifle clicked. Empty.

  “Liam, I'm toast,” she said as the stars crowded her eyes.

  The girl was a platinum blonde with the same gray, washed out fabric for her jeans and blouse as all the other zombies in the great herd back at the farm.

  She experienced the sensation of movement.

  Victoria dropped her gun and felt the heat of the concrete as both palms cooked on the pavement. She looked up at the girl as she ran the last few paces.