“The mayor did us one last favor,” he said with derision.
While they were busy fighting zombies hand-to-hand up in the north, the mayor and some of his public works lackeys had been here, in the south, clogging up the bridges with every vehicle they could find. Somehow they’d even managed to wedge a truck-sized shipping container on the Missouri bridge.
“We can just climb over that garbage, sir,” the civilian man said.
John didn’t reply. They’d spent the morning fighting a delaying action block after block in the long, narrow town, and he assumed this was going to be where he rides off into the sunset after a job well-done. He'd even gotten lucky and found Marty wandering about. But their escape was in jeopardy.
The mayor had made sure he couldn’t get his heavy equipment out of the town. He couldn’t say for certain the old man knew what he was doing—maybe he got a call from Elsa. The end result was the same: the mayor screwed him over.
There were barges out on the water with cranes attached—the port area had two he knew about—and with unlimited time he could have this bridge cleared using those cranes. But he had minutes, not hours.
He reached into his Humvee, searching for a miracle. “This is Warfighter actual.” He called to his aid Tom using the designation he'd written on the piece of paper. "Dunkirk, how copy?”
Nothing but static.
He’d tried to keep his radio chatter to a minimum because Elsa was always listening, but this was important. The surveillance drones did slow circles over Cairo, reminding him of the wider world and his lack of a role in it.
“Tom, dammit, are you there?”
He’d sent his assistant out the previous day, and he feared he’d come to harm. If he’d come through it might have made this whole fiasco more palatable. As it was, he was going to have to abandon all his equipment to the zombies. Maybe someday he could come back and collect it…
That gave him his out.
As civilians streamed onto the Kentucky bridge, he gathered the remnants of his unit. He had the two Abrams, four remaining Humvees, a mostly-empty supply truck, and a rabble of civilian cars. Both Bradley’s had been lost—one by the JDAM, the other due to a maintenance failure. It made him laugh to think he was probably still the most powerful man for hundreds of miles. The two tanks would make him invincible in a world where everyone used spears.
“Mount up. We’re going to the most southern tip. We’ll swim if we have to, but I’m not abandoning these tanks until I have no other choice.”
Some of the men looked at the bridge—he knew they were considering their own odds. But to their credit, everyone followed him into a little park that sat on the southern tip of the fake island. The buildings of the town faded away, and the last few hundred yards south of the bridges was a pleasant grassy parkland. They were outside the levee system, so the ground sat very near the water level. Hundreds of barges rode the water in every direction.
He shut off the Humvee and sat for a moment staring out at the water. This was the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers. The Mississippi came in from his right, linking with the other waterway in a large V. One jump and he could float in perfect safety all the way to the Gulf of Mexico.
That made him laugh. There would be no such easy escape.
He got out of his truck, intending to explain his reasoning at what had to look like a desperation play, but an Osprey swept in from just above the Missouri-side bridge, it rumbled almost directly over his position, then flew north in what could only be described as a landing maneuver. His instinct said it was Elsa coming in to gloat.
He thought through all the possibilities of the day. Fight or flight time. The noontime sun smacked down on him—hastening the need for action.
“Change of plan, gentlemen. I need volunteers for a mission. We’re going back into town.”
“I’ll go,” a soldier said without any hesitation.
Chloe. You wonderful woman.
2
Chloe explained how she’d just left the port area—and her makeshift spear factory—because zombies came a’ knockin’. When a tank drove by she figured that was the last hurrah. Her people helped get civilians over the Kentucky bridge, but she decided to throw her fate in with the general.
“I’m glad you made it.” Then, looking at the rest of his men, he noticed there was an almost even mix of civilians and formal military. Perhaps the transition was already taking place. The order of the old military was giving way to a citizen army. “I’m glad you all made it here,” he said loudly.
“I have one more mission, then we’re going to jump in that water,” he pointed behind him, “and swim to safety.”
That brightened everyone up.
“I need to go back into town. I think the woman who screwed us all was on that plane. I’d like some payback, wouldn’t you?”
He got some cheers, but he knew they were being polite. After fighting all day and all night, no one—not even him—truly wanted to go back in. The only reason they weren’t fighting them at that moment was that so many people refused to leave their homes, even when faced with the black tide, that the zombies were delayed by those holdouts. If anyone was looking at the scene from above, they would see rings of zombie surrounding homes. Donuts of death on a final platter of humanity.
But that grisly image encouraged him that he wasn’t asking his men and women to commit suicide.
In a few minutes, he had his fighting force. A dozen volunteers jumped on each of the tanks, spears and guns at the ready. The Humvees collectively had about a thousand rounds of ammo left, but they could also run over stragglers if need be. A few brave souls got in those trucks to help the drivers.
The remainder of his men were given the task of guarding their piece of the park. At the very least he needed some free space so his troopers could evacuate their tanks and jump in the water. Some of the civilians were already knee-deep at the water's edge.
It didn’t take long to get back into the town. A few humans ran for their lives, always to the south. In just a couple blocks they found the zombies. Not every zombie had waited to see what was inside the juicy homes—they kept moving after the prey they saw on foot.
“Don’t waste ammo. Fire only if the zombies are a threat. Alpha-1 and -2 run over what you can.”
Given their license to kill, the tank drivers made every effort to hit the zombies in the streets. It resulted in horrific smears on the pavement, which he dutifully avoided, but it had to be done. Chloe, sitting in the passenger seat next to him, made a fake retching sound.
“It’s just awful,” she said to herself.
“This whole thing is awful.” He looked over to her while he drove. “I’ll never be able to thank you for what you did to help the defenses here. Your spears kept us in the game for almost twelve full hours through the dead of night. Probably saved a lot of lives in the evacuation, too. Can you imagine all this happening in the dark?”
“No problem, sir. I heard how you used car headlights up there. That saved lives, too,” she insisted. “My dad was Army. Only a Colonel, mind you, but I guess I felt if I could do right by a general, I could do right by him.”
He looked back at the road. The two tanks were aggressively running down zombies, though the road was thick with them as they progressed into the main part of town. “I guarantee you he would be proud of you.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’ve lost a good part of my Zombie Killers defending our factory. Two of my people—along with a sickened boat captain—found their way behind our lines. Tore us up. We put them down, but each death is a force reduction we can’t survive. We’re not going to make it, are we?”
“Here? I’m not planning on getting us killed—”
“No. I mean anywhere. These zombies are...endless.”
“If we can get somewhere with high walls, and with no crazy bitch administrator running it, and no rogue boat drivers, we might have a chance.”
“I thought this place was it, you kno
w? We had a good plan.”
“I did, too, Chloe. But there will be other opportunities. That’s what this little trip is all about. I want to put a stop to the person who brought us down. Then we’ll be on our way.”
“If you point me to the person who did all this, I’ll kill them myself,” she said coldly.
He turned to her again, just for a second. The tone of her voice made him consider whether her father would be proud of what she'd become, after all. His own revenge was one thing—a known quantity—but he had second thoughts about involving other people in his final quest. If he got this young woman killed while engaged in something that he didn’t really need to do…
I need to do this. For her, and for me.
Whatever else he did, Elsa had to be stopped. Chloe’s dad would agree. That woman had turned out to be a bigger threat to their personal safety than the zombies. She was one person. If he couldn’t stop the endless rain of zombies, he could at least remove that one threat so she couldn’t do this all again somewhere else.
He would be doing the world a great service, even if it cost Chloe her life. Or his own.
This has to happen.
3
John drove around a corner and saw the big bird had landed in one of the large empty lots of the neighborhood where he’d recently found Marty.
“What are the odds of that?” he asked rhetorically.
Chloe answered. “What’s that, sir?”
“Oh, there’s more going on than I can explain right now. This can’t be coincidence Elsa would come to this street. She once tried to kill a good friend of mine who lived nearby.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK. She’s alive and safe. But this plane has to be here because she wanted to finish the job.”
The Osprey’s back ramp was down. The big props were locked in the hover position, and the rotors continued to spin, but it was unquestionably waiting—not taking off. A few Marines fanned out on the ramp, and they picked off zombies as they got close. He wondered if they knew what was trickling down through the town to the north of them.
“Hold here!” John shouted into his radio. He didn’t know how to contact the Marines. He was outside his own chain of command at the moment.
“I’ll flag them down, sir.”
Before he could say anything, she hopped out of the armored truck and ran toward the Osprey with her arms up. Twice on the march in she had to use her spear to put down zombies. One was a huge man dressed as a firefighter. Her first strike was ineffective, but she kept her cool and got in a second killing strike before it could harm her.
“Your dad truly would be proud of you,” he said to the windshield.
In sixty seconds she’d established contact, and waved his group in.
“Chloe, I’m going to make a special medal for you,” he said when he ran up the ramp to meet her. He saluted the Marines.
They didn’t salute him.
You're dressed like a bum!
He’d forgotten what he must look like. His white T-shirt in no way designated him as a leader. Since he’d been pulled out of the ditch, he’d gotten his white shirt completely filthy with mud, sweat, and blood—some of it his own, he was sorry to admit, from where he injured himself on that fall. He’d have to have that looked at if he lived long enough.
“I’m Major General John Jasper,” he shouted in the man's ear. “Though I’ll be the first to tell you I’m not really with the U.S. Army anymore.”
The Marines gave no ground.
“It’s true. We follow this man because he kept us alive. You had to have seen the zombies on our north wall when you came in? He helped us hold them out there overnight. Now we’re trying to evac the town.”
John willed her to ask about Elsa, but she didn’t bring it up.
“Isn’t that why you’re here,” John added.
One of the Marines made a decision to talk. He pulled them off the ramp, away from the noisy rotors. The two others kept watch from the ramp, though now they had help from two tanks and four Humvees. If they relaxed, John couldn’t tell.
“We report to Lt. Col. Brandyweis, U.S.M.C. We are based here in Cairo, under a Major General Jasper.” He looked at him like he was a bum. “But we’re here to collect a person of interest. Our rescue mission is for her.”
“You mean Elsa Cantwell?”
“No, sir. I’m under orders, sir, so I won’t give out her name.” The Marine was annoyed. John had known enough of them to know when they felt they’d let themselves down. He managed to coax a critical piece of information from him, and he knew it.
“Son, this is important. Elsa Cantwell is responsible for blowing this town to Hell. I’m going to arrest her. If you know where she is, you’d be the hero, here.”
Though it was a reasonable request, the Marine didn’t bite.
He tried a different line of questioning.
“We’re also looking for a Ms. Marty Peters. She was reported living on this street.”
The Marine looked at him stiffly, evidently uncomfortable dealing with a man who could be his boss, but who looked like a store clerk. John saw a glint of recognition in his eyes.
He nodded, then walked away with Chloe in tow.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but they came for a woman who lives on this street. In fact, I saw her come out of that house, right over there.”
He guided her as he walked.
Three Marines and his own men watched as he approached the house.
The crack of gunfire from one of the Marines reminded him his time was running out.
Danger close.
Zombies were everywhere on the streets to the north.
Chapter 17: Debbie's Double Barrel
“You aren’t going to believe this, but you got a call on my secure phone.” Colonel Brandyweis handed him a smartphone.
“Who is it?” Liam asked with awe.
“They won’t say. But they know everything about where we are, who I am, and who you are. They were very persuasive.” He laughed.
“Here, you’ll need this.” He handed Liam a headset that was plugged into his phone. “So you can hear her over the prop noise.”
They were talking loudly inside the Osprey, but he agreed that having headphones and a mic would make a phone call much more practical. And private.
The phone displayed “unknown caller” on the screen.
“Uh, hello?”
“Hello, Liam. Thanks for taking my call.”
“I didn’t have much choice. Who is this?” The voice was feminine but filtered to hide her identity. It was the same distorted voice he'd heard days earlier in the quarry.
“I’m a friend. Listen. I know where you’re going. You have to get them to turn around. You can’t go to...that town. It's overrun.”
He felt it in the pit of his stomach. The Polar Bears had hinted that Cairo was in imminent danger, but he wouldn’t believe it until he saw it. It felt childish to say it that way, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn around because some voice on the phone asked him not to.
“I can tell you’re thinking if I’m telling the truth. I assure you, I’m watching a video feed of more zombies than I can count going over the line of water north of town. The zombies are breaking through.”
“Why are you calling me? What difference would it make if I went there? If the zombies have the town, we’ll just go somewhere else. I have to get my Grandma.”
“And it has nothing to do with your girlfriend?”
“How do you know about her? Who the hell is this?” His inner child came out for some odd reason. “I’ll hang up this phone if you don’t tell me!”
“I...I can’t tell you. This call is secure, or so I’m told, but I can’t risk my whole operation...”
“Well, we’re in trouble then. I’m not listening to you just because you said so.”
The line was silent for a long time. So long that he had to ask if anyone was still there.
He was
answered by a series of clicks, then the sound of a ringing phone on the other end.
A woman answered.
“Who is this?” was the first thing out of her mouth. Liam recognized the voice immediately.
“Mom?”
“Liam? Is it you?”
“Yeah, Mom. It’s me. How did you call me? I’m not even—”
“Call you? No, you called me.”
“Mom, I knew it was you. You don’t have to pretend.”
Lana seemed to recover her wits. Her voice also gathered strength and speed.
“Liam, where are you? I’ve been worried sick since you’ve left. I've, uh, gone looking for you. I'm parked outside H's house, but it's on fire. Do you know about this?”
He began to doubt it was his mom earlier. She was very convincing that she was as surprised as he was at their fortuitous connection.
“I ran from downtown to Forest Park, but I didn’t find Victoria. I, um, saw that fire, too. Not long ago. I’m on a plane heading back to where I left Grandma. I think Victoria is there.”
He didn’t want to give away where he was going. The conspiracy-minded Polar Bears had at least done that for him.
“No! You can’t go there. It’s falling apart down there.”
“That’s what she said. Before you came on the line. I’m going down there, Mom. Don’t try to stop me. I have to know if they're OK. After that...I don’t care.”
“Dammit, Liam, why do you keep running away from me? Give me some time, maybe I can get some help to you.”
“If it's as bad as you say, I can’t wait. We're already on our way. I’m in good hands.”
“Liam please—” his mom pleaded. She was cut off, mid-sentence.
“Hi Liam, this is Grandma Rose.”
He sat in stunned silence.
“Are you there?”
Lana heard her mother-in-law. “Rose. What are you doing?” She sounded more incredulous than happy to hear her.
“Lana, if I remained silent while my own grandson threw his life away you would never forgive me.”
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t worry about that. So they’ll know where I am.”
Since the Sirens: Zombie's 2nd Bite Edition: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Books 4-6 Page 80
