The Humvee pulled right up in front of them. Liam wasn't surprised to see the passenger was their secretive friend Douglas Hayes from the CDC. He was still dressed in his white shirt, but without his hideous tie. He was now wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses and an ostentatious CDC baseball cap. He had a big smile for them all.
“Hey guys. So glad to see you made it across the bridge!”
Grandma made a motion across Liam's chest, as if holding him back. “And we're glad you made it across as well.”
Liam wondered if Grandma said that to prevent him from unloading what he really felt—which would include a lot of cuss words. Hayes had antagonized the roadblock officers when they first tried to cross the now-destroyed bridge, and then angrily stormed off when they wouldn't recognize his authority with the federal government. Where he went after that was a mystery.
“I found a friend here who was more than happy to pick me up and drive me around. I can pretty much go wherever I want now. Fortunately there are still some law enforcement agencies willing to help the CDC track down this plague.”
Liam took this as a slam on the police officers who would not let him across earlier today, although none of them were close enough to hear the disparaging remarks. He noticed Phil's cruiser had started to move. Hayes started to speak again, keeping him in the conversation.
“Liam, what do you say we take a ride with your grandma and your girlfriend? We can go back to your house, find your parents, get you all safe, and then I can protect you all.”
Liam couldn't help himself from replying. “Hayes, you told us the Army wasn't in Missouri anymore. This looks military to me. Was that a lie you told us?”
Liam saw the driver was the same plain looking redhead woman he'd seen with Hayes way back in the St. Louis Arch candy shop. She was wearing a ball cap as well, and she tried to face the other way, but it wasn't hard to figure out. Her red locks were very distinctive. That would mean more people than Hayes survived the attack from the looters underneath the Arch. He'd said looters shot all his coworkers under the Arch. Was that a lie too?
“This isn't US Army.” He didn't elaborate. Hayes lifted his phone, and appeared to take a snapshot of Liam. Then he looked down in his lap. The Humvee windows were very small, so it was difficult to say for sure what he was doing. “Come on. We can have you home for a late lunch. Just give me an address.”
“Give us a minute. I want to talk this over with Liam and Victoria.”
“Sure, take all the time you need. We're going to turn the rig around.” The Humvee moved fifty feet down the gravel road to the turnaround at the roadblock.
“Grandma, what do we do? I don't trust him, but it would be nice if we could agree with him enough that he'd take us home.
“If I've heard you correctly, almost everything this man has told you has been a half truth. I don't feel right getting in a car with him.”
“Liam might be right. He was talking to soldiers on the Jefferson Barracks Bridge yesterday and they wouldn't let him across. But they didn't shoot him either. Now he's with soldiers again. He's had plenty of opportunities to hurt us. Maybe it's worth the risk to get you to Liam's parents where you'll be safe. Surely he has some pity for our situation?”
They all agreed Hayes wasn't truthful, and they mostly agreed he'd not put them in any actual danger since they'd met him. He even claimed to have helped Liam and Victoria avoid getting shot by snipers at one point. The lure of a quick ride home was powerful; Liam wanted to see Grandma get to safety. If his parents were there, they'd take care of Hayes for him.
As the military truck was turning around, an Arnold PD cruiser rolled up. Phil and a partner were in the front. “Liam, I thought about your offer and I'm in. Let's get you guys home.”
Liam looked at the Humvee, now pulling behind his car, and he walked up to Phil's window. “We were just offered a ride by the guys behind you. They are from the CDC, or so they say. But we'd all feel much better riding home with you.”
“Well then jump in.”
Liam walked back to Grandma and together with Victoria they moved her over to the rear door of the police cruiser. As they opened the door, Hayes jumped out and walked around to where she was being loaded.
“Hey, I thought you guys were coming with us?”
Phil opened his door and stood up.
The women were safely inside the car. Liam was left to face Hayes. “Thank you. We really do appreciate your offer, but Phil was there to help us cross the bridge so we feel we owe him. We want to try to repay him, so we are going to let him take us home.”
Hayes had never expressed any negative emotions. He acted as if he was above most of the fighting and excitement of the last few days. He never shot a weapon or even held a weapon in Liam's recollection. He claimed he was a middle manager for the CDC, more of a “transportation roadie” than anything to do with fighting diseases, but Liam was pretty certain he was less than truthful about his job description. Taken together, Hayes projected an aura of scientific detachment, which was why Liam was surprised when he got right up in his face. He spoke so only Liam could hear him.
“Liam, please. You don't understand. Your grandmother could hold an important key to solving this riddle. She needs to be protected and I want to make sure she stays safe. Come with me and I'll take you all somewhere I can guarantee your safety for the duration of this disaster.”
There were a number of books swirling through Liam's brain at that moment. There was always someone who enticed the unsuspecting victims with safety, but then inevitably put them into even more danger...or killed them outright. On the other hand, the real world was much more fluid. Perhaps Hayes just had poor communication skills and his mission really was to study the plague, and he really believed Grandma could help with that cause. In that scenario, going with Hayes would probably benefit everyone involved.
His father was the tiebreaker. His dad took pride in his anti-government leanings, and he even kept his favorite quote in a small frame near his home-office desk. Liam had read the quote his whole life, but he never understood it until just this minute. He could only paraphrase it, but it went something like, “The nine most dangerous words in the English language are 'I'm from the government, and I'm here to help.” It was spoken by a US President from before Liam was born.
Now, the government was literally offering its hand to him. Though not on the best of terms with him lately, he was going to trust his father on this one. “Thank you, Mr. Hayes. Seriously. We will be perfectly safe with the officers here. Good luck finding the cure. Stay safe out there.”
He moved to get in the back seat, but Hayes grabbed his arm. His voice was bordering on stern. “I urge you to reconsider. There are so few...people...left, we have to husband them carefully.”
That's just what a government egghead would say.
“No thanks. See ya!” He yanked his arm and jumped in the back seat, slamming the door.
Hayes and Phil were left outside facing each other. Liam wasn't sure what to expect, but nothing dramatic happened. The two men may have nodded slightly, and each returned to their respective vehicles. No threats. No nothing.
Liam acknowledged either way he went he was getting into the vehicle of the government. But he decided he'd rather get into the car of a man regretful of his role in government debauchery than one proud of it.
As they drove away he looked through the rear windshield to see Hayes sitting inside his armored car, talking animatedly on his phone.
This was his first big choice of the new day. Had he made the correct one?
I'm thinking yes.
Chapter 2: Phil
Liam felt relieved at getting away from Hayes, but all his enthusiasm drained away once they got out of the woods along the river and back into something approaching civilization. Almost immediately he saw signs of conflict—burned houses, cars tipped over, dead laying in the streets. He realized crossing the bridge out of St. Louis wasn't leaving the plague behind, it was mer
ely changing one set of problems for another.
They pulled to the end of the gravel lane and stopped just before the major two-lane blacktop road. He saw no traffic in either direction.
“So how are we getting to your house Liam? Do you know how to get there from here?”
Liam knew where he was, and how to get home. But what was the best way home?
“On second thought, I have to do something first. If I'm going to quit my job I want to do the right thing and ditch this car. You mind if we swing by my house so I can get my personal vehicle?”
No one objected, so Phil put the metal down and forced everyone back into their seats with the acceleration. He was heading into the town that dreamed up the roadblocks, which Phil said would be dangerous. Getting it done as fast as possible seemed sensible.
The car ride was torturous for the trio in the back seat. Phil was driving at high speeds through narrow streets and along country roads. He knew them well, but the back and forth and up and down motions were tossing the rear passengers all over. Liam worried about crushing Grandma between Victoria and himself.
As they approached the town of Arnold, more people were walking the roads, more cars were mobile, and there were more signs of the devastation of the ongoing societal collapse. Houses on fire. Dead people in the streets. Gunshots.
At one point, on a nice suburban neighborhood street, someone threw a rock at Phil's police car. It hit the passenger side rear door just below the glass. Victoria let out a small scream. She then shrank noticeably into her seat.
“I don't think these people like you Phil. These your neighbors?” Liam was hoping to keep the mood light, but...
“These people aren't from my neighborhood. These are people who broke through the Arnold blockade up on the highway. They are none too happy to see Arnold PD. Crap. This may have been a mistake.” Another rock clanged off the hood and chipped the glass on the front windshield.
“Almost to my house. Let's just get this done.”
A few minutes and they were there. Phil's partner switched seats so he could park the cruiser. Phil jumped out, ran to his garage and opened it, and moved his car out. Phil's partner put the police car into the garage and shut the door on it. Lots of people had to have watched it go in.
After a frantic minute they were all inside, and could breathe again.
“Thanks, guys. I didn't want to freak anyone out, but it was critical we got over here to hide the car. Before I picked you up I was listening to the reports on the radio. Not only did the refugees get across the river up at the highway, but they've taken a severe disliking to those who tried to keep them bottled up on the wrong side of the water. Many officers and city officials were killed at the roadblock, but I've heard people are attacking cops on the road, shooting their vehicles, and stuff like that. I knew we'd be safer coming here to swap cars rather than try to make it anywhere with a car that attracts violent protesters. We have enough troubles with the infected now.”
“But didn't they see us arrive at your house?” Victoria's concern echoed Liam's.
“Definitely. We'll have to be fast.” While he was talking he was putting together some foodstuffs from his cupboard, throwing them into a backpack. He also grabbed some bottled waters and handed them around. He ran out of the room saying he needed to change his shirt, ripping off his uniform in the process. “Drink up while you can!”
Phil came back with a light button-down shirt and full-length jeans. He wore his service belt under his untucked shirt, providing a degree of concealment for his arsenal. He then went into his garage and came back with two big duffel bags, then excused himself to go downstairs. “Billy, can you come down and help?”
Grandma was sitting at the kitchen table, while Victoria was pacing nervously between the front and rear windows of the house. Liam just bounced around the kitchen aimlessly. Fatigue was his current nemesis. The water was divine.
A few minutes went by and the men were back up the steps. Each had a duffel over his shoulders. Billy carried both out the front door. “We're grabbing some supplies, but we have to go right away. I have most of what's easy to grab but I have to leave so much.”
“I think we're already out of time.” It was Victoria. She was looking out the back window, and speaking with a palpable sense of dread.
They all went to see what had her rattled.
Phil's house didn't have a great view of the town, but it did sit on a small hill in his neighborhood. They could see people running around, and several nearby houses on fire. A few residents were shooting and being shot by the arsonists. They were only a couple blocks over—heading in Phil's direction.
“Yep, because of THAT. Those are probably the people from the roadblocks. Torching everything in their path now. That fuel is priceless and they're tossing it on a funeral pyre!” Phil seemed more exasperated than scared. “Time to go!”
Phil threw his backpack to Liam. Liam flung it on his own back—
Holy hell this is heavy.
—and he helped Grandma get outside.
Phil's SUV already had its engine running while sitting in the short driveway. The rear lift gate was open so they could throw their gear in the cargo area.
Liam heard a strange whizzing sound. A second later they heard a gunshot report.
“Run!”
They practically threw Grandma in the back seat. Liam and Victoria tumbled in after her.
A loud clang rang through the truck. A couple more followed. Reports were echoing off the garage doors of neighbor's houses.
Phil dashed into the driver's seat, followed swiftly by Billy on the other side. The truck roared out of the driveway, turning right and then a quick left, away from whatever was happening back there. Followed only by three more clangs of metal.
“Everyone OK back there? That was a little too close for comfort. Hoo boy! We got out of there just in time, eh Billy Boy?” He looked over to his partner and was shocked to see he was dead. A bullet must have gone through Billy's door and killed him instantly. Phil seemed to slow down so he could take in what just happened to his friend and partner—to say nothing of his home and livelihood—but there was too much going on to do anything but drive at that moment.
“I'm sorry about your friend.”
“Yeah, so sorry.”
Grandma closed with, “Rest in peace Billy.”
2
The people of St. Louis fought the much smaller city of Arnold, and spiked the football. They were taking the spoils by looting, pillaging, and then razing the berg as they moved through. Liam hoped he was wrong, but nothing out his window suggested society was going to be back anytime soon. Not here. He had to remind himself the wave of St. Louis zombies hadn't even arrived here yet.
“If I was smart I would have parked that police car in front of another house, maybe the Mayor's house.” He gave a strained laugh at that. “Maybe driven it into a lake. Once they find it in my garage they'll definitely burn the house to the ground.”
Liam thought he was being unfair on himself. “You did the best you could. You got all that stuff out in a few short minutes, giving us some valuable supplies to get to my house.”
“Yeah, well I've been planning for something like this for weeks. Once it started getting bad.”
There's that phrase again. Liam had heard people say things had “been getting bad” for a while before the plague exploded onto the scene, but he couldn't for the life of him remember anything that would have tipped him off to something as big as the collapse of the world. Was he too self-absorbed to notice? He read about it many times in his zombie books.
“When you don't have a family around you'd be surprised what seems important to do at three in the morning.”
Grandma gave a slushy “mmmm hmmm” hum in agreement. She probably had some free time herself over the years. It had been decades since Grandpa Al passed on.
“So I used my time to organize my bullets, count my cans of beans, and watch videos on the internet abo
ut how to survive after a societal breakdown. The number of websites on survival is, or rather was, nearly infinite. I admit though I never really tested much of their advice. It never seemed urgent to try to tan a hide or pluck feathers from a chicken—so I'm afraid I didn't train up on much, beyond what I already knew.”
Phil went on to explain he had put his duffel bags of guns in places he could easily grab them, so if he ever needed them in a hurry he would be able to be in and out. He never dreamed this was how it would end up.
Being a police officer had many perks, but the most relevant to today was being plugged into the firearms community. He not only got all the free training and range time he could ever want, but he also tapped into low cost auctions of firearms—often before the general public knew about them. He explained the various types of rifles, shotguns, and handguns he had—though Liam wasn't really listening.
In spite of all the danger, he was so tired his head was rolling side-to-side with the motion of the car, his eyelids vacillating between open so Liam could stare, and closed so he could drift off.
“A couple AR-15s.”
“A couple hunting rifles with really good scopes.”
“A pump scattergun and one automatic.”
“Lots of handguns.”
“Beaucoup Ammo!”
“Left a ton of older guns back in my safes.”
Liam looked at the two ladies and was surprised to see them both slumped over, asleep. Just that fast. He fought hard against the draw of sleep; a fight he was losing until the car lurched to a stop—he was wide awake again. Phil put the car in park and looked back at the trio, but settled on Liam because he was awake.
“I've got to get Bill out. I'm going to drag him into the woods, well off the roadway, and lay him down. We really don't have time to dig a grave, but I'll try to get back to him if I can.”
Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Siren Songs Page 3
