Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Siren Songs (16 page)

He looked at Victoria, planning to say goodbye. She had already
found her place on Grandma's arm and was helping her up the steps.

I guess that's that.

“I'll go see what they want. You folks should lay low down
here. I know this guy.”

None of them made any move to go up the stairs. Only Melissa made
as if she might try. In the end, she only wanted to say “good
luck” to them. Liam gave her a smile and caught up with the
women on the stairs.

The door was pulverized and opened as much by falling outward as
by its hinges. It was impossible to believe the whole floor had been
stuffed with zombies moments before. The fury of the guns out front
had turned the zombies into more or less a fine paste drilled into
the walls, ceiling, and floor of Liam's house. Much of the larger
remains had been pushed out the back side of the house and into the
woods behind his dwelling. The amount of blood and...bits...was
legion however, and Liam's stomach went into immediate critical mass.
He saw a lot of lower legs wearing shoes. Some heads. Remnants of
what the guns missed.

Settle down stomach.

The smell...

By the time they reached the front of the house, both Liam and
Victoria had stopped to deposit their stomachs. Grandma seemed
unaffected.

The front door was gone. They emerged from a large hole in the
front facade of his house.

A large military truck was parked in the middle of the street.
Liam recognized it from videos of Iraq and Afghanistan—it was
some kind of six-wheeled anti-mine vehicle used to carry troops.
Instead of being painted the characteristic desert tan, it was
painted in multiple greens and browns more in line with the foliage
of this part of the world. It had a nasty-looking Gatling gun on the
top.

There were four Humvees parked nearby. Each with a machine gun on
top, pointing away from his place. They were sweeping the street for
remaining zombies. The area around his house was clear now, but
beyond the safety of that space the infected were coming in from all
directions.

Hayes and two flanking escorts were coming up the front yard. Liam
noted they were trying to avoid stepping in the mess they created
when the Gatling sliced through the crowd of infected on the lawn and
in a wide arc into the neighbors' yards.

“Ahoy, Liam!” He appeared happy as a lark. As if a
massacre of sorts did not just take place. He was dressed in Army
fatigues that were a size too big for him. Liam thought it made him
look ridiculous.

“Hayes. How did you find us?” Liam tried not to sound
as deflated as he felt.

“I work for Big Brother, don't ya know? You were on a list.”

“A terrorist list or something?”

“Nope, something much more sinister. Your parents are on the
list. Grandma is on the list. Probably your whole family.”

Liam began to panic he really was on some kind of terrorist watch
list. He'd killed enough of the infected in front of Hayes to qualify
for some kind of special status. But the rest of his family?

Hayes started to laugh. “It's called a phone book, Liam.
Your parents are listed in that magical tome.”

Liam inwardly groaned. He should have seen that coming.

“I need you and Marty to come with me. I told you I could
protect you and I must insist you let me do so.”

“What about my friends? There are women and children down in
my basement.”

Hayes left his two escorts several paces behind him. He came right
up to Liam and began speaking in a tone that sounded an awful lot
like sincerity. “I'm sorry Liam. I really am. But there just
isn't enough space to transport everyone. My orders are to bring you
and your grandma back.” He then looked around the yard as if
satisfied. “I think we helped your friends out quite a bit
though.” Pointing to a lone leg nearby, “We gave them a
leg up, eh?” He laughed heartily at his joke.

“As I said earlier, I appreciate the offer but we aren't
going anywhere with you.”

Marty became uncharacteristically agitated. “Liam, I really
think you should listen to the man. He's offering safety.”

“Grandma, you know we can't trust him.”

Though he was standing right there, Hayes didn't seem offended.

Victoria said, “I'm with Liam. We can't trust him and you
shouldn't go with him.”

“Really? I just roll up and kill a couple hundred zombies
with my cool toys and you don't recognize the situation? I can
understand these kids, but you?” He was looking at Marty.

“Liam, you and I should go with this man.” She tried
pulling Liam along, but Liam was firm.

“Grandma we can't!”

Hayes' was smiling up until that point.

“You
must
come with me. Now. Look around, the zombies
will be back.” He said it very close to them—waiting for
a reply.

Liam wondered if he could get Grandma back inside. Just kind of
slide backward into the wreckage of the place. Maybe the folks
downstairs could help? Then he thought about the fake police officer
who tried to rob him. His mind drifted to thoughts of a guardian
angel. Someone—or some
thing—
had saved them both
that day, and they'd been
very
lucky this entire trip. Surely
this injustice could not be tolerated by any guardian angel. So many
thoughts, they became a jumble inflicting a paralysis on his
decision-making.

Hayes gave a disgusted snort, turned around, and walked back to
his escort. Liam relaxed ever so slightly, thinking he was leaving.
But Liam saw him say something to one of the guards, though he
couldn't hear it. The escort was carrying a fancy military-style
rifle with a big telescopic sight on top.

That is a big friggin' gun.

Without turning around, Hayes spoke in a very loud voice, “Last
warning Liam. Walk with me now or things are going to get ugly.”

Grandma was trying to move. Victoria and he were holding her back.
“Liam, please,” She was imploring him.

He faltered. Unsure. But Victoria was strong. Holding her ground.
Setting the example for him.

“Hayes, you wouldn't dare do—” Victoria began.

Hayes gave a nod.

The soldier raised his weapon. The scope was huge, but he didn't
look through it. No need for it at ten feet. He aimed. He pulled the
trigger. The bang wasn't as loud as Liam expected. He wasn't sure why
that was his first thought, but it was.

His next thought was that he hadn't been shot.

Neither had Grandma.

That means...

“You will either step forward and walk to my truck right now
or I kill Liam too. I'd rather not so I don't have to waste one of my
men supporting an old lady, but I will if it means we can move on to
other business.”

Several of the Humvee's machine guns were rattling in anger at the
encroaching zombies.

Liam had just enough time to look back and see Victoria laying
face down inside the remains of the front room. The force of the
bullet must have pushed her back even as it brought her down. Marty
had grabbed his hand and pulled Liam forward. In the shock he was
unable to resist. He knew he wasn't supposed to resist.

What just happened here?

They were complying with Hayes' request. They were halfway down
the desecrated front lawn before Liam's mind caught up with the
confused rage in his heart.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! YOU SHOT HER, YOU BASTARD!”

“Ha! That's where
you're
wrong.
You
killed her
Liam.
You've
got to learn you either comply with me
immediately, or people get hurt. I let you go at the roadblock
because I didn't have my proper team with me. It was very rushed and
I don't do rushed. That's how mistakes happen. But I don't like
anyone telling me no. You saw that back when the police wouldn't let
us across that bridge. I found my own way. I had a backup plan. I
always do. I'm trying to save the world, so give me a little
respect.”

Several soldiers were training their weapons on him. Very close.
He could see inside the muzzles of the guns they were so near to his
face. Liam remembered the temper tantrum Hayes threw when the police
told him he couldn't cross the bridge out of St. Louis, despite
telling them he was with the CDC. But he never once advocated murder
in the days he'd been with Liam's group. This was something new.

He knew enough not to do anything stupid. Despite his rage,
Grandma kept a tight hold on his hand—even for her age she had
a tight grip—and moving in the right direction. There was no
arguing with this man, at least not here under the aegis of all these
guns.

“You shot Victoria. You shot Victoria. You shot Victoria.”
It was a mantra that got him across the grass and up to the big
truck.

Was it really my fault?

A guard searched him for weapons, taking his pistol and a pocket
knife. They also did a cursory search of Marty. She carried nothing.

As they were climbing through the rear entrance of the big
military truck, Liam looked at his house one last time. It was a
disaster. All the glass was gone. There were large holes where the
windows once were, and many smaller holes all along the length of the
structure at about man height. The Gatling really did terrible
damage.

He tried to look for Victoria one last time too, but she was
inside and the bright glare of sunshine prevented him from seeing her
lying on the floor. Wisps of smoky debris also poured out the front.

“Goodbye, Victoria. I love you.” He said it only loud
enough for Grandma to hear. It was the first thing that tumbled out
when he thought of the girl he had come to know during this calamity,
and began to have strong feelings for her—love perhaps—because
of those shared experiences. He had thought he'd found something
worth living for. Someone to help get him through to the light on the
other side of this disaster. Someone to share the load.

Then the door to the outside world was closed. He wasn't surprised
to see two long empty bench seats in the rear of the transport.

No space, my ass!

All Liam could do was break down and cry.

Grandma put her hand on his back to comfort him as he was hunched
over in his seat.

No words passed between them for a long time.

There was nothing to say after such a loss.

Jerry was sitting at Marty's kitchen table. Lana was sitting next
to him absently leafing through the kill list with the familiar names
on it. They'd spent the previous few hours scouring the house for any
definitive clue as to where Liam and Marty had gone, but could find
none. They knew Liam was armed and had taken her and many of her
essentials—the walker, her pain meds, etc.—but they had
no idea which way they went, how they were getting around, or even
where they were going. Angie's car was gone, but the garage was
ransacked so it was unclear who had it. Their best guess was Liam was
going back to his own house, but they wanted to be certain before
giving up on Marty's home.

“We know the highway is a solid brick of cars south of here.
If they got stuck in that they would certainly have had to walk out.
You don't think Liam would have been dumb enough to get himself
caught in that traffic do you?”

“I think all we know for sure is they made it far enough
away from this house they didn't feel the need to return. That may be
a good sign they are making progress.”

“Or they were unable to return.”

“That's always going to be a possibility until we see them
safe and sound.”

“So what do we do next? Wait here and hope they show up? Go
back home? We're worried about Liam getting out with Grandma. We have
to get out too at some point.”

They had caught a quick nap in the waning hours of the night, as
their long journey into the city and the disappointment of not
finding Liam had sapped them of all their strength. They woke up on
the fourth morning since the sirens had gone off.

They couldn't leave and risk Liam showing up at Marty's again. But
they couldn't stay forever either. If Liam somehow made it home, he'd
be looking for them.

“I wish the phones were working. We could just call him.”

“Actually maybe we can. If we can find the internet
somewhere. If it's still up. We just have to find something which can
send out a text in that fashion.” Jerry was the family's IT
guy. He stood up, excited at the implications. He and Lana both
shared a cell phone plan with Liam, but neither had gotten a
signal—Wi-Fi or otherwise—since the crisis began. They'd
more or less given up on them. Their phones were older and cheaper
than Liam's. They had voice and texting plans, but no data and no
ability to get onto a hotspot.

“I won't bother asking about Grandma, but doesn't Angie have
a tablet of some kind we could use for this?”

They both remembered her with some kind of tablet on at least one
occasion recently. It was enough of a hope they both sprinted up the
steps to her flat to search for it. The horrid smell and large piles
of blood-soaked clothes on the floor slowed them down. They'd been in
the room in the darkness; somehow the light made it scarier.

“What the hell happened up here?”

“I have no idea, but let's find that thing and clear out of
here pronto. All this blood gives me the creeps.” Like Liam,
Jerry suffered a queasiness around blood. He was mostly able to
control it after years of careful practice, but this place tested his
resolve.

The tablet was sitting on the floor of Angie's bedroom. It had
probably been sitting on the nightstand, but the furniture had been
rearranged to put it charitably. They grabbed the tablet and its
charger.

A few minutes later they were back at the kitchen table, hovering
over the tablet as it was turning on. They were both relieved to see
it had at least half its juice left. But they were greeted with
disappointment as Angie's device had essentially one application on
it—the app that let her read her stories. They had no way to
easily determine if Angie had the internet in her apartment, but it
was clear there were no hotspots active anywhere in range at the
moment. With the power down everywhere, they expected as much.