Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Siren Songs (13 page)

“Hello again.” Victoria tried to be polite.

“Hi.”

“We need your help. We have a big problem.”

“I'm listening.”

Victoria had only just begun her studies in her nursing program,
but one of the most basic concepts was triage. When faced with a
large number of sick or injured, you had to take care of those who
could be saved, and let some of the others go. She explained to Mel
they needed to find people in the crowd who could be counted on to
protect the house in the event problems started happening on the
street.

“I know this seems silly to ask, but we're worried there are
too many people coming up this street. We don't want to lose the
house. We need some people we can trust to help hold it in case
things get—” She left it hanging, but the implications
were understood.

“Why should I care about your house? Tomorrow I'll be moving
on. Right? That's what you said.”

Victoria and Liam stood there looking at each other, unable to
voice a suitable explanation.

“Because the world falls apart if we don't take care of each
other.”

It was Grandma. She was standing inside the house, but talking out
the open door into the garage. She was steadying herself by holding
onto the doorframe.

Mel walked into the garage to get a better look. She used a small
flashlight to illuminate the entryway.

“My name is Marty, but everyone calls me Grandma. Pleased to
meet you.”

Mel was reticent to respond for a long while. “I'm sorry.
You remind me of my own grandma. She passed away a few years ago. No
offense to you or her, but I'm glad she isn't around to suffer
through this.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised what we old people can survive. But
sorry for your loss.” She followed quickly with, “Will
you help my grandson protect our home?”

“Why me? I want to know why you picked me out of all those
people on your lawn.”

Grandma indicated it was Victoria's choice.

Victoria explained how she was attacked by the looters as she
ascended the Arch stairwell to save Grandma and Liam, ending her
story with how they rearranged her face and undoubtedly had further
plans. Liam had the foresight to tell the police to try to help
rescue her, even as he was rescuing the police officers trapped in
the base of the Arch. She said she empathized with Melissa's story
and felt compelled to help her. “You seemed like a survivor.
And you remind me of what could have easily happened to me. I hope
I'm as strong as you when I get older.”

Liam didn't know if he would help the situation, but he felt he
had to say something. “Plus you showed concern for those people
when we first met you. You were right to be skeptical of people you'd
just met. There are plenty of wolves in sheep's clothing out there.”
He thought of his own journey out of the city. How many times had he
been shot at? A week ago weren't those people law-abiding citizens,
content to watch football on the weekend or have BBQ's in their
backyards? How quickly the world can go to crap, and good people go
bad.

Assuming they were ever good.

Looking at Mel anew, he could see parallels with Victoria. They
were both fighters. Stubborn. Driven. Mel was just a couple decades
older. Would that be Victoria someday?

Mel surprised them all by walking over to Marty, and then shaking
her hand right there in the door. “My name is Melissa Perkins.
Pleased to meet you Marty. I'll do my best to protect your home.”

Melissa was a take-charge kind of gal. She asked if she could vet
the survivors out front and bring in those she felt had the greatest
chance of contributing. No one objected, though Liam wondered what
Phil would say had he been there.

She was off. For better or worse, Mel was probationary member of
Team Liam. He joked internally about the name, especially since he
didn't want to lead it. But he could at least recognize when
potential members entered their orbit. He knew it was critical only
the “best and brightest” join up with his group. So many
books he'd read showed there was almost nothing more important than
the quality of people brought in. But real life was always more
delicate than a book. That didn't change the result one bit though.
Either his group would grow with people who would help, or the group
would collapse under the dead weight of useless people. And always
the question of leadership. As groups grow, someone has to be in
charge.

Liam had no idea who was leading his group.

5

As with so many other plans set in motion during this crazy time,
things went pear-shaped almost immediately. Mel was able to get a few
people into the garage, notably parents with children, as she
explained they'd be the most likely to defend their ground to the
death. She gathered a few older men who were carrying firearms. She
explained how she talked to each one to ensure they'd be team
players. The few she gathered were anxious to move on to find loved
ones, so she felt they'd likely defend the house tonight, but would
be on their way tomorrow. She was really thinking ahead.

However, flames began pouring out of Mr. Poole's garage across the
street—lighting up the entire area in the process. A gaggle of
men and women began a hasty egress from the main part of his house,
and stood around gawking at the conflagration from the front yard.

Several minutes later Poole was knocking on the back door. Once in
the kitchen, Liam, Marty, and Victoria listened to his story. Phil
remained in the front room, though he could hear from there.

“Ehhhh, those bastards thought they could take over my
house! I showed them.”

He took a seat at the kitchen table, looking dreamy and distant.
“I let them in, thinking I was doing them a favor. Little did I
know they were a club of some kind—all bad fellas—and
they just kept coming and coming. Soon there was no room for me, and
they were stomping all around the house tearing things up. They got
into poor Ginny's keepsakes and I couldn't take it no more. I asked
them to leave, but all they did was toss me out into the
garage—laughing.”

He looked around the room, seeming to come to. “You remember
our discussion earlier? I told you I tried to kill myself up on the
roadblock. Well, I tried again tonight. I lit that fire in my own
garage, and I intended to burn the place and all those people with
it...but I heard them standing in the front yard and knew they'd
gotten out. I guess I didn't think it through. Well, I wasn't about
to die if they were just gonna laugh at the whole thing. I walked out
the back door of the garage and snuck over here.”

Liam was struck by how crazy this man seemed. It wasn't just the
suicide attempts, but his demeanor. Inviting strangers into his
house. The way he talked about it. He did just lose his wife, so
maybe that broke something in the man?

“I had lots of gasoline for my mowers in that garage. It
will help burn the house to the ground.”

From the front room Liam thought he heard a groan from Phil.

No one knew what to say. Liam was tempted to say a sarcastic “good
job buddy” but he knew the men in that house wouldn't be
gawking for very long. Mr. Poole had just made their own lives a lot
more complicated. Plus, if they knew Mr. Poole was in
this
house—it could make things very difficult for them.

Grandma finally broke the uncomfortable silence, but she said
something that came as a complete surprise to Liam. “Mr. Poole,
I'm very sorry for your loss. But you have to leave our house this
instant.”

Liam was floored. Victoria's mouth was agape. Only Mr. Poole
seemed unsurprised. He sat there for a minute, then looked up as if
peering at the clock on the wall. In the low light it was very hard
to tell. Liam caught a glimpse of Phil in the hallway, past the
clock. From where he was sitting, only he and Poole could see Phil.
In the shadows Liam saw he was aiming a rifle into the kitchen—at
Poole.

Is he going to try to suicide in my kitchen?

Poole, getting the message, got up and retreated out the back
door. His final words were aimed at Liam as he stood on the
threshold, “I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. Good luck
finding your parents. You won't see me again.”

The group let out a collective breath, though Liam's was a bit
heavier since he knew what Phil had done. The girls expressed relief
at getting the trouble out of their house.

Phil had returned to the front window without saying a word.

The fire across the street was so large it was throwing light into
Liam's house. Liam thought it was a pretty light, if you ignored all
the memories and resources going up in smoke. If the world really was
ending, most of the things now aflame would be irreplaceable. A few
minutes passed when Mel ran in through the garage entry.

“Hey guys. We have trouble out here!” She was pushing
a gaggle of children inside.

Phil, at the front window, underscored the urgency, “Oh
crap! Those guys are armed!”

The men forced out of the burning house were looking for a new
place to stay. They must have found Liam's house the next-easiest
target. They were grouped together, maybe twenty burly
motorcycle-gang-ish guys with weapons out, all moving up the
fifty-foot driveway in the direction of Liam's open garage.

Thank you for screwing us, Mr. Poole!

Liam and Victoria moved past the children already inside, and went
to the door of the garage to see what was happening. Both had their
pistols in hand, pointing them safely at the ground.

When Liam looked into the garage he was just in time to see Mr.
Poole throw himself on the crowd of angry men. He moved silently from
the darkness of the space next to the garage and was on the front man
before he had a chance to raise his weapon. Poole had a stout
wooden-handled shovel which he was able to swing hard into the face
of that man. “Serves you bastards right for stealing my house!”
It was the last thing he ever said.

As Liam stood there in disbelief, he heard Mel inside the garage
yelling too.

“Fire!”

Liam was blown away by the concussion in the confined space.
Several rifles cracked from the dark spaces at the deepest part of
his garage, from the back of Phil's truck, and even underneath his
dad's car—he didn't notice the men and women hiding until they
revealed themselves with gunfire. The dark garage became a lightning
storm of flashes as more and more shots were fired. It exposed their
positions, but it must have been fearful to the men out on the open
ground only a handful of yards down the driveway.

After a few moments, more cracks were coming from the front yard
and from inside the house. Phil's rifle was adding to the cacophony.
Liam could see innocent bystanders scrambling away from the erupting
gunfire. He hoped no innocents would get hit in the crossfire.

The men on the driveway were surprisingly agile in reacting to the
fluid situation. The guns in the garage made short work of several of
the men in the front of the group, but those in the back began
running to their left, taking them out of the field of fire of the
shooters inside the garage. It still left them exposed to the guns in
the front yard—Liam had no idea who was shooting from there—and
Phil had the best view of all. The light from Mr. Poole's house
helped keep the men lit even as they tried to shoot back.

An explosion of wood in the doorframe next to Liam's head made him
realize he'd just been standing there gaping at the action. He turned
and saw Victoria was similarly mesmerized. He pulled her back into
the house.

It wasn't long before the gunfire died down. Soon it was gone
completely. Liam was nearly deaf and was choking on the smell of
gunpowder, but he could hear cries of the injured men out front, as
well as very loud calls of surrender.

Phil from inside the house yelled, “Everyone stay put on my
team! You out on the driveway, put your hands up and walk into the
light!”

Liam grabbed Victoria's hand and pulled her into the front room to
be with Phil and Grandma. She was lying on the floor, but gave both
kids the thumbs up sign. He wanted to help her but needed to see what
was happening out in his yard. He went to the front window where Phil
was still stationed. The entire window had been broken out. In fact
all the windows in the front room had been broken out; Liam realized
bullets had been coming this direction too.

He saw two men standing in the driveway with their hands up.
Between them was the man initially struck by Mr. Poole. He was trying
to sit up after having been knocked out cold. Lots of blood was on
his face, visible in the fire light. Liam thought he heard men crying
out on the lawn. He imagined there were some grievously injured
attackers unable to surrender properly.

“Get on your knees, keep your hands up!” Phil was
yelling out the front window. He had a serious look on his face as he
studied the lawn.

“What do we do with these men? They obviously meant to do us
harm,” Phil asked.

Victoria had helped Grandma back to her spot on the couch. Liam
looked in her direction to confirm she was OK. He silently thought if
she had been killed by these men he'd have no mercy on them. As it
was...

Liam responded. “I'm not sure we can just outright kill
them. Maybe we could tie them up somehow and save them for the police
when they come back?”

Victoria suggested they mark them with a branding iron and tell
them they were being released but we'd kill them if they ever turned
up again. She'd seen that on television, but couldn't remember the
show.

Phil was turned into the room at the moment more gunfire erupted
from the front yard. Several quick pops went off. Liam turned around
just in time to see Mel down the injured man. She then hurriedly went
around to the remaining attackers and shot each one in the head as
they tried to scramble away.