Liam was reloading for the fourth time when Jones came over to him.
“Hey Liam. What the hell are you doing?” He was pointing to the dead standing right up against the side.
“I'm killing zombies. Why?”
“Well for one you are supposed to be aiming at the walking ones like your girlfriend here. But also you are making a pile of dead below this side of the car. These guys are almost up to the deck as they stand on their dead friends.”
I made a pile of them?
He snapped out of it.
“Hey, we have to stop firing at the close ones!” Liam tried to order his fellow shooters to halt what they were doing, but it didn't stop the two men right away. The noise was intense. When they paused to reload Liam was able to point out what they had done.
“—and we can't shoot them if they are close to getting up, because that would only make it easier for the next ones.”
Liam was pissed at himself for not doing things the right way, but he was also inwardly proud he was able to dispatch so many of them. He had to admit it felt good to deliver some payback.
Victoria and Jones went back to work on the forward-moving zombies. There were too many for them to effectively shoot them all, but they still tried.
Liam was left to tend to the growing problem he had created.
One of the zombies had made it partially onto the deck by grabbing one of the chains holding the tractor-trailer. Another then used his friend as a crude stepping stone.
He was just starting to right himself to stand up when Liam shot him in the head. He rolled back off the train car, back onto the pile.
If I can't shoot them what can I do? Yell at them?
The zombie holding the chain seemed—somehow—to know he was providing a service to his fellows. Either by design or by accident the dead man shifted while holding the chain but couldn't haul himself up completely. That left him half up and half down—the perfect means for others to shimmy up using him as a piece of climbing gear.
Liam shot the chain-holder in the face. He rolled back down, but not very far.
The sound of gunshots were loud in his ears. He noticed one of the men previously shooting the front row was doing it again. Liam looked at him—and was distraught to see the man's eyes had a glint in them. Was it suicidal? Was he purposefully making the pile larger?
“Hey! Stop shooting those standing by the car!”
The man did not stop until he was out of ammo again. He racked his shotgun and saw it was empty.
Liam walked in front of him as he reloaded.
“Hey, you can't shoot these close ones. You're making a pile of bodies the others can use to get up here.”
“I don't care. We have to kill them all!”
He pushed Liam out of the way and took a step forward. Liam nearly lost his balance, but regained it quickly and moved safely from the edge.
He could have easily pushed me to my death just now.
Liam flopped on the ground under the trailer to take stock of himself. He could feel the panic rising—
Two seconds is all it would have taken. Dead.
—but with great effort was able to keep it in check. As he took deep breaths he watched the nutter who almost killed him.
The man had moved forward to line up more shots, but did not expect a zombie to be high enough to grab his legs with both hands. Once he had hold, he pulled himself up a little and took a bite of bare calf.
The loud, regular banging sound began at the front of the train again, and was making its way to the back. The commotion and gunfire was so loud Liam doubted anyone else heard it, but he was listening for it so they could move and get out of here. He steadied himself as he sat, still watching the action.
The man became frantic with fear, shooting wildly with his gun—hitting the one that bit him but not much else—and then he lost his balance just as the banging sound reached the last car. The train was moving.
The sudden jerk was too much. The doomed man tipped sideways, and fell directly on top of the unbalanced pile of infected still working their way up. The whole stack crumpled as the flatcar started rolling. The man was lost somewhere in that scrum. He screamed for many minutes after the train had moved well up the tracks.
Each scream reminded Liam it could have been him. Lose yourself for even a second and it could get people killed. Just that fast.
I won't forget that lesson sir.
3
As the train moved along again, the zombies dropped back into the night. Marty remained at her station, perched near the wheel of the trailer—leaning back to get as comfortable as the situation would allow.
She saw everything that happened with Liam and the pile up of dead, and she saw what happened to the poor man who fell over the side. She grasped her Rosary—currently it was around her neck for safekeeping—and said a prayer for the man. His screams had been heartbreaking as they pulled away.
Liam had gone to the back of the train and sat down away from everyone else. Marty suspected he needed some time to digest what had just happened.
Victoria used the opportunity to reload her gun and then sit down next to her.
“I really thought we were goners there. I can't believe how fast those zombies were up and onto the decking.”
“No my dear. I think that surprised us all.”
“I saw Liam go to the back. Do you think he's OK?”
Marty chewed on that question for a full minute. How well was Liam taking the end of the world? She had always seen him as a bright boy, but somewhat socially awkward. Perhaps not unusual for a boy his age, and certainly reminiscent of his dad—her grandson. He was also a shy young man, who only blossomed after some time in college. Maybe her progeny needed to get a broader perspective on life before they began to understand their own role in it? Or maybe it just took the right woman.
She gave Victoria an approving look.
“Liam will be fine. He just has a lot to process. We all do. There are so many things changing even as we watch them. I think his biggest problem is that he feels responsible for me. Not that I blame him, I'm just a frail old lady after all—”
Victoria tried to interrupt and beg her off that line of thinking, but Marty was having none of it.
“No, no, it's OK. I can be honest about myself. He feels like he has to take care of me now that his father isn't around and my nurse was taken by this plague. It's natural that a young man with his character would feel that way.”
Victoria nodded her assent, but Marty continued before she could say anything.
“I want to share something with you. Woman to woman.”
“Liam is the type of young man that would do anything to save someone he loves. Oh he may not understand the true nature of love, and he may not be able to distinguish between real love and infatuation as well as an older man, but you've surely seen flashes of his selflessness already. I'm asking you to ensure Liam doesn't do anything TOO heroic if it looks like I'm not going to make it. Again, I'm honest with myself—I don't have that long left no matter how this whole affair plays out. He does. You do.”
Victoria sat speechless.
“Liam thinks I'm pretty helpless these days, and I guess I can only blame myself. I've come to rely heavily on my nurse for many things I once could do on my own. Maybe I let her do more than I should, merely because I've gotten lazy in my recent years.”
She seemed to dwell on that for a bit, leaving Victoria hanging.
“But I'm going to tell you a little secret that I haven't told anyone.”
Victoria leaned in to hear the revelation. Marty wore a conspiratorial smile on her face, as if she were really enjoying the moment.
“The other day Liam was getting beat up by a bad man trying to rob us. Liam and his impatience to save me led him to a bad decision. The man pulled Liam out of our car and was getting ready to really hurt him. Kill him in fact.”
“I remember him mentioning that.”
“Well I didn't tel
l Liam what really happened. I used his other gun—the one you have now—to shoot that man. I fired three times. The robber never knew what hit him. It was the first time I ever murdered someone—” She knew that wasn't an accurate statement. She smacked her lips as she thought of the right phrase. It wasn't murder to kill in self-defense. “It was the first time I killed someone with a gun. It was very disturbing to take a life.”
Forgive me Lord. I was happy to save Liam, not happy to kill that man.
Victoria let out a quiet whistle; she was impressed.
“I don't have much strength left in me, but Liam's dad fixed those guns so even a weakling like me could fire them. I just set the barrel on the frame of the car door, aimed, and let 'er rip. It wasn't really hard at all.”
“The hardest part was that I had no strength to get out and tend to Liam. I let him lay there on the ground. Out cold. Time went by and I couldn't hold the gun anymore so I put it back in the backpack, and promptly fell asleep. I have no idea how long we were both out.”
“He came to at some point. Climbed back in. And away we went. Liam was none the wiser about what had happened.”
“Why didn't you tell him you killed that man? Wouldn't he be really proud of you?”
“I go back and forth. I guess I feel at this point I'm old enough I don't want him to get ideas about doing crazy things to save me because he sees me as some heroic granny.”
“Well you are pretty heroic!”
“This,” she swept her arms to signify she was talking about the world at large, “isn't about heroics. It's about carefully thinking how to survive. Nothing is going to be easy ever again. Security. Food. Shelter. You can't just run around the world shooting guns and being heroic. Eventually it’s going to catch you. They,” she pointed off into the distance behind the train, “will catch you.”
She waiting a long time again before sharing her last piece of advice. “I didn't tell him I shot that man because Liam won't survive this world if he thinks there will always be someone there to take care of him.” She said it in a most serious tone, but ended on a lighter note, “Even if there is.” She turned and gave Victoria her trademark wink.
As the train clanged along the tracks, the sun was starting to make its presence known, though it was still below the horizon. They were able to see the factories and industrial barge facilities they were passing as they rode the rails down the west bank of the Mississippi River. Graffiti was also popular in this section of town.
The could both see Liam sitting at the very back of the platform, looking behind them.
Marty had one final thought to share with her young friend.
“I hope this isn't too forward to say, but I'm old and don't have time for subtlety anymore.” She chuckled at that.
“Liam is quite taken with you. I guess you could figure that out after what he yelled back in that train depot. You are very pretty of course, and you have a good heart. I have my own reasons for liking you.” Here she paused. “Any boy his age would find you quite the catch. Normally I wouldn't even think of saying this, but times are not normal by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Amen.”
“I truly hope you and Liam become good friends and that you'll be in his life a long time. But while I'm still around, please know that if Liam is ever forced to make a choice between saving you or saving me, I'm going to make sure he picks you. Do you understand what I'm saying my dear?”
Victoria nodded, then added, “Thank you. Truly. We have been through so much already, though romance just isn't really on my mind right now. Maybe if we get somewhere safe where I can think about more than zombies, looters, or the plague we can talk about a future. We just have to make sure Liam never gets put into that position where he has to choose. I want us all to survive and be happy.”
“So do I dear. So do I.”
But Marty had laid it down. And now that she had, she couldn't help but wonder if she had the strength to make good on the implications of her statement. She always came back to suicide. Her religion forbade killing oneself; it was considered a major sin. But if the choice came down to saving herself or saving Liam and Victoria by sacrificing herself, she believed God would understand her motives.
Dear Lord. Please help Liam and Victoria survive this plague.
The train clanged on.
Sunrise on day four was minutes away.
Chapter 16: The Tenth Circle
Liam was still staring off the back of the train when he felt it decelerate. The light of the morning was still growing as the sun nearly peeked on the horizon. He was hoping to see the sunrise riding the train to safety, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.
The train had been moving at ten or fifteen miles per hour, still pushing the dead engine in front at a virtual crawl, but thankfully much too fast for the zombies to easily keep up. He could see them here or there come stumbling out of the buildings on his left. They tried to reach the train but they fell behind, screaming that they missed the rolling stock of humans rumbling by.
I wonder if they will follow us even if they can't see us?
Another mystery of the Zombie Apocalypse.
He stood up and moved around the tractor-trailer so he could see where the train was stopping. To his surprise it was slowing down as it approached the Jefferson Barracks Bridge, which carried a major interstate across the Mississippi River. It was also the most southern bridge in the St. Louis area. The last bridge over the river for many miles, at least as far as Liam could recall. There were no cars crossing it now, though it was very clear to him soldiers were sitting on the span; many were looking over the side at the approaching train. Not too far above the bridge were two small, thin aircraft—Liam thought they were drones—flying in tight circles above.
He walked over to Victoria and Grandma, both still sitting near the wheels of the front trailer.
Liam couldn't help himself. The early morning ambient light put Victoria in a soft glow that was almost magical. Sure she was pretty in any light, but right now she was covered in lots of dust and soot from being around the railroad tracks since yesterday and she still made Liam's heart re-adjust inside his chest. The light even took the harsh swelling of her lip and cheek and evened them out.
He wondered to himself if she liked him, or tolerated him because she had no better prospects in this catastrophe. The insecure side of his heart said she wouldn't have given him the time of day in any other situation, but the pragmatist in him said she has had plenty of opportunities to ditch him and Grandma and traipse off with people and groups more prepared than him.
On balance he accepted that she probably stuck with him because she liked him, at least as a friend. A “fall-of-civilization friend.” He hadn't had time to really contemplate more with her, though he knew he'd never turn her down if she wanted to kiss him, however briefly.
They had made a good team so far, and there was no reason to doubt she was going to stick with him for as long as it took to reach a safe destination—assuming one could ever be found. Naturally that led him to think about what he would do if they never found a respite. What if they had to be together for much longer?
Alright Liam. Stay focused on the here and now.
He finished his thought by agreeing with himself that indeed, she really was pretty.
“You two look like you're conspiring.”
The two had been conversing in low tones, but he was unable to glean any sense of what they were saying. They clammed up before he was close enough.
“Hey Liam. Grandma and I were just talking about when you were a little baby. How you'd wear your diapers. That sort of thing.” She gave Grandma a smile and then turned and gave Liam a smile and a wink.
Liam was near to feigning embarrassment when he saw her face had become black and blue in many spots. She had two black eyes to go with her cheek and swollen lips.
He still thought she was beautiful, but he was serious when he knelt down to look at her face.
> “My god, your face. Are you doing OK?”
“Thanks. Yeah, I'm fine. It still hurts a bunch, but I have both my eyes and my face will return to normal soon enough.”
Liam had a dark vision of that man punching this girl's face and he suddenly felt a wave of violent feelings. He wasn't sure what he was feeling when he realized that man was dead.
“I don't have any serious meds to help you. Just some Ibuprofen. Can't hurt right?”
He was already in his backpack, pulling out three or four rust-colored caplets. He passed them to her as she switched to the task at hand.
“Do you know why they're stopping the train?”
“I think the Army is stopping us. I can see them up on this bridge.”
Victoria looked at Grandma and made sure she was comfortable, and then stood next to Liam so she could see them too. She gave him a chuck on the shoulder and then said, “Let's go check it out.”
There were no undead in the immediate area. This piece of railroad was mostly empty riverbank on one side, and a steep escarpment covered in trees on the other. Liam knew by the location of the bridge the area up the hill was the massive Jefferson Barracks National cemetery. As a fan of zombie books and movies, he noted the irony that the one place you don't find them in real life is the cemetery. Zombies don't rise from the dead, nor do they find living people hanging out there. Maybe that is where they should hide? He saved that idea for later.
There were a few walkers well behind the train, but otherwise it looked pretty safe to step off. A few men and women ran back to provide security for the stopped train.
Victoria climbed off first, with Liam close behind.
Jones called down to the pair to ask where they were going, but once they told him he laughed. “I'll stay back here. Someone has to keep your Grandma from running off!”
Grandma could be heard chuckling and saying something to the big man, though they were too far away to hear the soft-spoken woman.
As they started walking, they saw many people up the line of train cars had the same idea. Many were taking the opportunity to stretch their legs and get out of the cramped cars. The empty coal cars were a popular model to escape. People tried to find better options with more room.
Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Since the Sirens Page 22
