Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6

by E. E. Isherwood

  Unsure how many seconds he had left, he took off for the rear of the house. He spared one second to grab Victoria's shirt on his way out.

  His Zombie Apocalypse danger meter was pegged in the red zone. But while escaping an exploding house was the first mission, he also couldn't help think about falling and hurting his ankle. Once again, even something as innocuous as a sprained ankle could get him killed. He lost a second or two because of his extra care, but he whizzed by the porch full of ammo—the danger meter found a few extra bars—and headed straight into the palatial backyard.

  His goal was a lone ancient pine tree in the middle of the grassy landscape. Fifty feet away.

  He was halfway there when the first explosion rocked the house.

  Keep going!

  A second later a second tremor shook the ground. Each moment he expected a great fireball would reach out and smother him in death.

  Two more blasts, and this time he sensed the heat, though it sounded like the explosions were still inside the house.

  He was feet from the tree when he finally got what he expected. A massive explosion ripped out the back of the house and he felt a hot barbecue grill blast of heat on his bare back.

  He jumped for the safety of the tree.

  His only thought was whether Victoria was burning inside.

  Chapter 5: Bathed in Fire

  Liam woke up against the protective barrier of the gigantic pine tree. He'd found the only cover in the entire yard he could reach before the house exploded, and it saved him.

  Thank you, Mr. Lodgepole Pine.

  A prayer of thanks to God was on the tip of his tongue when a man in a military uniform popped through the shrubs near the back of the large yard. A black battle rifle pointed menacingly in his direction. Liam's sad-looking shotgun lay in the grass a few feet away. He'd let go of that, but had held Victoria's shirt during the explosion and subsequent cook off of all the ammo—a show which continued even now.

  Six more soldiers appeared. He recognized the whir of a small drone hovering nearby, though they kept it out of sight. The men kept their distance from the house fire. Most took a knee, but one man jogged through their line and covered the distance to him. He kept the tree between himself and the fire.

  Liam was too surprised to say anything as the man approached.

  The Marine was far less jovial than their last meeting. Weeks ago, back at Camp Hope, Liam and Victoria had “escaped” into the woods, rather than help the military.

  “Mr. Peters,” he said with maximum hostility.

  Over the days and weeks of the disaster, he'd had his run-ins with the United States Marine Corps, and he'd discussed it endlessly in the down times with Mel, Phil, and his father. One thing that had come up was the proper battle cry. It was different for each branch of the military. He had no defense for what he'd done, so he was left with falling on his sword.

  “Oorah, sir.”

  “Don't give me shit, son.” Lt. Colonel Joseph Brandyweis strode next to him and looked around the trunk of the great tree so he could see the ruins of the mansion. He whistled. “I knew you were trouble. I just knew it. You teenagers are nothing but.” He turned back to Liam. “The world is burning in disease, and my task is hunting down a snot-nosed punk kid who seems to be at the scene of every big fire—and here you are causing the damned things. Is this all you've been doing?”

  “Sir, I didn't cause this. It was—”

  “Save it. I can't trust a word you say. Not after that stunt back in the woods.”

  “I gave you that phone number!” He was a little more emotional than he wanted. But it was true he did give him the phone number of where Grandma Marty was being held. He didn't want that overlooked.

  “Son, do you know how many of my men died because of that phone number?” His tone was only slightly less hostile.

  Liam had a pretty good guess. He'd seen the bodies of the Marines, not to mention he saw the other V-22 Osprey crash in Busch Stadium while his plane dusted off stuffed with survivors. That was a question he didn't want to touch.

  “I had no idea any of that would happen,” he said with proper contrition. Then, hoping with all his will he could change the direction of the conversation, he continued. “How did you find me? I've been...lost. By myself. For days.”

  The colonel studied him. Liam switched places and imagined what he must look like. He'd cleaned himself up, but only superficially. He still had no shirt on and carried angry red welts from being stuck a dozen times by the tagging darts. His blue jeans were muddy, bloody, and dirty. His once-colorful running shoes were now drab brown. His hair was probably standing straight up like a troll doll.

  He innocently ran a hand through his hair, as he wondered if it had been burned off in the explosion. His fingers ran through actual hair, causing him to sigh in relief.

  “You look like hell, I'll give you that,” he said while scanning both sides of the yard. “And where's your girlfriend? She involved in this, too?”

  Liam felt the sting of emotion. The mere thought of Victoria had caused him to tear up in front of the Polar Bear leaders when he was in their headquarters. He was not going to let that happen, ever again. Instead of being sad at his separation from her, he let himself be angry.

  “No. No, she's not,” he said without really knowing the truth. “I've just spent days trying to get to Forest Park because she's supposed to be here. I walked up to this house because she was helping an old man here as his nurse last time I was with her. I found a bunch of—”

  Can I trust you?

  “—National Internal Security assassins lying dead on the floor of the place, along with some of my friends, and when I opened a box sitting on one of the assassin's laps, it had a curt 'Dear Elsa' note and a bomb inside. The only thing of Victoria's I found inside was this shirt. She wasn't in there,” he said with authority.

  He expected an angry reply. Braced for it.

  “What do you mean, a 'Dear Elsa' note?”

  Liam was surprised. “Well, um, there was a note written on a paper inside the box. It said 'Dear Elsa. You lose.' though I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.”

  “I don't know, either. But there is a Ms. Elsa Cantwell running the show in Cairo, Illinois. In fact, I had to avoid her to get my last Osprey in the air.” He looked at Liam with what he read as sympathy. “Everyone is stretched thin out here. Me and my boys are operating at the limits of our authority. Your grandma said you were risking your life to find a cure to this mess. She believed it. I didn't believe when she told me, but I've been thinking about it ever since. You've been at the center of every disaster my unit has had since the beginning. You should be dead ten times over. Here you are standing outside another firestorm.” The building behind them continued to flame up and cook off ammunition. “For the love of God, will you tell me what's driving you to always be in danger?”

  “Only if we can get away from this fire.”

  “Deal.”

  2

  Later, after moving a few backyards down from the burning home, he sat down on with the Lt. Colonel, and—as he had with the Polar Bears—explained much of what he knew about “the outside.” The only difference was he didn’t want to give away his mom’s role or the existence of the Patriot Snowball headquarters nearby. He painted the patriots with a light brush.

  Brandyweis held a long, penetrating stare after his tale was done. Liam pretended to adjust his new black t-shirt, which had been liberated from a nearby abandoned mansion by one of the Marines. It had a picture of a honey badger, which he thought was hilarious. Still, he tried to meet the man’s glare, if only to convey that his story was mostly true. He didn’t lie. He just left certain parts out.

  “So you went into a nightmare quarry filled with zombies based on an anonymous text message from someone in Utah? Son, are you having me on?”

  “It’s true. We already had videos from Colonel McMurphy showing how dead people had been infected and became zombies, too. I think he
was terrified of them. We were pretty sure those experiments were taking place near the national cemetery by that mine. And they were,” he said confidently.

  Brandyweis held his cloth cap in his hand and slapped it against his knee. “Dammit. I was hoping you’d have something actionable.”

  “You could go in the mine and see the graves for yourself. There are a lot of zombies down there.”

  “So you keep telling me,” he said with skepticism. “Almost as if you want me to go down there and never come back.” Though the words were biting, he made it clear he didn’t believe Liam would do that.

  “No, I wouldn’t recommend anyone go back down there...ever. I’ve never seen that many zombies in one place. Although—”

  He’d left out that the cavern deep inside the mine was filled with military hardware and a big security vault door. While he still didn’t know the relationship between that room and the Patriot Snowball, he was ninety-nine percent certain they had nothing to do with it. They’d lost men investigating it, too. Yet, trusting Brandyweis had its own hazards.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, it’s just that I did see that many zombies in one other place. The research facility where I rescued my grandma. The zombies stood around the base of that building like they were lined up to get into a rock concert. Victoria and I zip-lined across them from a bridge, but there were thousands upon thousands, in one big group.”

  “Zip-lined?” He eyed Liam again as if waiting for the big crack up. When Liam managed to hold his stare, he went on. “And that’s where the big pile of elderly is located?”

  “Yes, Douglas Hayes and his research team were doing experiments at the top of the structure, and they dropped the dead people down into the lobby. It was one of the more gruesome things I’ve seen.”

  “OK, at least I know you aren’t making that up. My team reporting seeing the same thing when they were in there. But they came in through the sewers...” He stopped talking. They both knew the fate of that team of Marines.

  Brandyweis held his ear as he listened to his comms gear. He quietly replied “Affirmative” but continued to chat with Liam.

  They sat on some patio chairs while behind another large mansion.

  “I sent my boys into that tower thinking it was a legitimate research facility. We followed up on the phone number you gave us. Our intel said that phone was inside, and you said your grandma—and your phone—would be with Hayes. We even knew Homeland Security had rented the building for a year before the disaster—while the structure was being built. I had no reason to suspect we’d be ambushed by a damned research team.”

  He sighed deeply.

  “I’m not going to make that mistake again, but the world keeps getting more and more dangerous. If we’d found you a few minutes earlier, we might have followed you into that mansion and me—and my team—would now be dead.”

  So would I, don’t forget.

  “I’m beginning to think you lead a charmed life or something.”

  Liam was quick to react, having had the same thoughts recently. “No, sir. I’m not charmed. My dad died from a stupid leg wound a few days ago. My girlfriend has gone missing. My grandma is probably dead if Cairo is under siege. Hell, my whole family is on a government kill list—”

  He hadn’t intended to bring that up.

  “—and, uh, one of my friends got blown up by a fifty-five-gallon barrel of explosives.”

  “Back it up. Tell me about this kill list.”

  Liam didn’t want to reveal anything he knew abut the Patriot Snowball, and though he was related to one of the primary leaders of the group—his Grandma Rose, who was also a congresswoman—he steered in another, less truthful direction.

  “When I was in the Riverside Hotel to rescue my grandma, there was another guy there. A guy I think helped to kill your Marines. His name was Duchesne. He, uh, never said his first name. When he found out who I was, he said my whole family was on a kill list. Though he and Hayes were part of the same organization, Hayes said he removed my family from the list. The two argued about it.”

  An embellishment of the truth, if ever there was one. After speaking it, he briefly thought about his own book. Once written, and with everything placed in sequence, would people like Brandyweis hate him for stretching the truth like this? Was history always written like that?

  “Any idea why your whole family would be on a list?”

  “They didn’t say.”

  It’s OK to lie when you're protecting your family.

  3

  “I’ve got to make my move, son. I can’t park my oversized rescue plane for more than a few minutes here in the city, or it will get overwhelmed with refugees looking for a way out. There are a hundred gawkers watching your mansion burn. But I can’t have it flying around waiting for me, either. I need you to tell me what comes next, and we’ll go there together.”

  “What comes next,” he said wistfully.

  I’d like to settle down with Victoria, have a house with a white-picket fence…

  “I appreciate your offer, I really do. But I just ran all the way across the city to find my girlfriend. She's my mission, right now.”

  Liam waited for the angry Marine Corps drill sergeant routine.

  Brandyweis gave him a thoughtful look, with the same deep fatigue everyone carried. “I'm up against a wall. I've got to deliver. But I’m going to give you six hours to find your girl. When you do, bring her back here,” he pointed to the stone pavers of the patio below him, “and we’ll pull you both out of the city.”

  “What about you? Where will you be?”

  “This may surprise you, but I can’t walk ten feet in a crowd anymore without getting swamped with requests for help. Word gets around, you see. People think the military abandoned them, and when they see us, some of them take that real serious.”

  “Sir, the military did abandon some people. The entire East Coast, in fact.”

  He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Elsa and her team assured us it was an orderly evacuation and that everyone was invited to come to St. Louis in the super convoy. Operation Renew. I’ve seen the images, though. It looks anything but organized, and people are pissed.”

  “Is Elsa a general?”

  Brandyweis laughed a healthy laugh. “Oh, no. No. She’s part of Homeland Security. They’ve taken over crisis management, which put her in charge of the defense of Cairo. None of the civilian leaders wanted the military in charge, though they still wanted us around to do the fighting, of course.”

  “Homeland Security? Duchesne mentioned them as his cover.” He thought back to their first meeting on overpass south of St. Louis. “And he was really an NIS agent. Hayes said he was with Homeland once, but also with the CDC.”

  The colonel’s jovial attitude nosedived. “Elsa is some sort of double agent?”

  Liam waited for the thought-process to reach the goal line.

  “No, that’s not possible. We had orders from multiple chains of command, instructing us to defer to her leadership in southern Illinois.”

  Fumble.

  “I don’t know what this National Internal Security stuff is, but it can’t be everywhere.”

  “How do I know you aren’t NIS?” Liam asked in a non-threatening voice.

  Brandyweis looked at him angrily, but caught himself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. If there is a secretive group running around infiltrating our research teams, it could be anyone. But if I was NIS, why would I run my boys up that tower to have them killed? Why would I sacrifice one of my Ospreys in that scrum in the stadium?” His voice trailed off.

  “I wasn’t serious,” Liam offered.

  “No, you have every right. If what you say is true—and I have every intention of trusting you on that—you’ve been betrayed multiple times. You should doubt everyone’s motives, including mine.”

  Liam felt a little guilty that he lied to him, but he remained silent until he thought back to that meeting with Duchesne in the hotel where he reve
aled he’d been tracking Victoria’s cell phone.

  “It might help me trust you if you told me how you found me.”

  After a few moments, Brandyweis stood from his chair. “It was pretty easy, I’m afraid, and not very creative.” He waved one of his men over. Liam expected it to be Jax—it just seemed that was destiny—but it was a well-tanned man with cropped hair and a serious face.

  “This is Lance Corporal Thomas. He’s our resident techie. Show ‘em what you got there. Tell me who this is.” He pointed to Liam.

  The black box-like device was about the size of a laptop computer. It had a screen on the top portion, and a keyboard on the lower section and a small saucer-like extension sticking out of the keyboard. After typing some stuff in, he held the device so the saucer pointed at Liam, then after a few moments, the Thomas read the report.

  “Liam Peters. Age, sixteen. Blood type, AB neg. Current residence...”

  The report was very thorough. Not only did it give details about who he was, it also gave details about his health, family’s health, and possible diseases he may one day get. That was magical enough, but when it started to get into known associations he saw where it was going…

  “Victoria Hennessey, resident of Denver, Colorado. Denise Rawlings, resident of Jacksonville, Florida. Haylee—”

  “OK, I get it!” he said with mock anger. It scared him that the computer had that much information about him, and it doubly scared him that it could know he had made contact with the source of the Patriot Snowball, but he had to know how such a thing was possible. “How the hell can it know who I’ve met? I only saw Denise for a few minutes yesterday. She killed herself when I was trying to save her...” His exasperation masked his fear that the strange device would list every contact he’d had earlier that day. His mom, Haylee, Travis, Jason Hawkes. The list went on—all enemies of the United States government, apparently.

  Brandyweis motioned to the other Marine, giving permission to reveal the secret, he hoped.

  “We were given these DNA sniffers a few days ago, down in Cairo. They wanted us to take read outs of the dead bodies on the ground so we could start to account for all the infected. They were perfect because we didn't have to touch them. They said special teams were going out with tracking darts so we could then find and identify the bodies.”