Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Since the Sirens (21 page)

“Me too cap. I'm OK for right now. But I'm not sure how long
I can hang under the bridge without being spotted. Maybe I'll fly
away like batman.” He let out a nervous laugh, which was
reciprocated by the captain as they signed off.

The trio listened to the radio for a while longer, expecting at
any time to hear the whole park had been run through by the dead.
They never heard from the north gate again, but several other
stations kept reporting in. Things were not going well for the good
guys.

Then the communications were cleared by someone calling himself
Raptor HQ. The radio chatter from the police stopped cold.

“This is Raptor HQ. US Army. We are the blocking force
located on the east bank of the Mississippi River. All bridges are
under our control. No. I repeat N-O personnel will be allowed to
cross the bridges, use boats, or otherwise transit across the water
by order of General Hodges, II Corps, United States Army. We've had
several, shall we call them volunteers, disobey orders and cross the
bridge and river to support you. Those men and women won't be
disciplined, but they won't be allowed back either. Be advised I also
have orders to terminate the infected now surrounding your position.
I'll give you all the time I can. Say 60 minutes. Out.”

It appeared the Army could see what was happening too, and took
this delicate moment to remind everyone in St. Louis they still
weren't allowed across the river.

It was Osborne who spoke for them all, breaking all kinds of radio
protocols.

“This is Captain Osborne with the Missouri Highway Patrol.
On behalf of all of us laying down our lives to protect these
citizens, let me just convey...”

He went on to teach Liam a whole host of new curse words. His ears
were burning because Grandma was right there too, but given the
circumstances of what was taking place outside, he didn't think she
would be overly upset.

Liam stated what they all had to be thinking.

“No help is coming.”

Liam's world had been spinning out of control since the sirens
turned off two days ago, but now he'd felt as if his rescue parachute
was packed with bricks instead of silk.

It can't get much worse.

4

“Well, what do we do now? We can't exactly step out of this
room and make a run for it.” Victoria was right, but no one had
any better ideas. The stairs up the Arch were open, but going back to
the top was pointless, and Grandma would never survive such a climb.

Looking around the room, they found various tools, workbenches,
and maintenance equipment for servicing the top-to-bottom tramway. No
weapons of any kind—not that anyone expected to find guns
stashed away in a public piece of property like this.

It was Liam who found the way out.

“Hey, look at this grate on the wall. It seems to have a
tunnel behind it, though I can't see where it might go.”

Looking at it closer, they saw a thick metal grate, about three
feet wide by three feet high, with a stout-looking lock on it. It had
an inner solid metal door. Next to the grate, in an obvious spot,
were a couple of keys hanging on a small hook. It wasn't rocket
science from there.

Liam offered to unlock and pull open the grate, push the solid
inside hatch—it swung inward, and then crawl in with the
flashlight and see where it lead. Victoria insisted she be the one to
go, so Liam could stay with Grandma. Liam's first panicked reaction
was that Victoria was going to find an exit and then run off and
leave them, but he knew that was a crazy thought. He accepted her
offer.

A few minutes later, the metal bars were on the floor and Victoria
took the small police flashlight down the concrete duct. Soon she
disappeared as she made a turn in the tunnel system.

Liam and Grandma were staring into the dark gap when some loud
gunshots rang out from up in the museum, reminding them their fates
may hang on who won the gun battle there. Finding this tunnel could
put their fate back in their own hands.

There was virtually no light in the room, except for that
illuminated by the EXIT sign over the one door leading out of the
room. Liam was using his own flashlight to root around—he was
looking for something that would help Grandma get down the tunnel.

She was sitting in her chair near the door, unable to do much but
listen to the gun battle.

“I think the shooting is getting closer.”

“I have to find something you can lay on so I can drag you
through this tunnel.”

“Oh no, I can't possibly go in that tunnel. Just leave me
Liam. Get yourself and Victoria to safety.”

Liam knew she would say something like that, which is why he was
more intent to find just the right thing to get her to go with him.
As he continued to search, someone banged on the outside door.
Looking in the window was a younger man with glasses and a horrible
tie; Liam recognized him as Mr. Hayes from the group of CDC people
the other night.

“Do we let him in?” Grandma mused.

“Yes, he's going to alert the whole place to this room.”

Liam ran over to open the door. As the man entered, they all heard
gunshots—and felt them rattle their bones. Very close! Liam
slammed the door shut.

The man's run had cost him his breath for the moment. He merely
stood hunched over his knees trying to gain control of his body.

“Shot...us...all.”

The small diversion kept anyone from noticing Victoria was nearly
back at the entrance of the tunnel. It was her light which finally
made everyone take notice. A few seconds later she came scurrying out
of the small space to make her report.

“This tunnel leads out. It has another grate on the other
end—we'll need the key here—but it should be a simple
matter of getting everyone down this tunnel and we'll avoid the
museum and most of the shooting up on top. I think the exit is in a
railroad tunnel. I could see the tracks with my light.

Liam continued his survey of the gear in the room with new zest.
He finally found the 'something' that would get Grandma safely down
the tunnel. He grabbed it off the wall, adjusted it, and then slapped
it down in front of her wheelchair.

“It's your lucky day. Just lay down on this mechanic's
creeper and I'll pull you to safety.”

She looked at Liam, then at the creeper, and finally at the hole
in the wall. Maybe she was calculating her odds, or maybe just
deciding if she really wanted to die in the Gateway to the West. Liam
didn't really care. He wasn't going to give her a choice in a few
more seconds. The escalating gunfire preempted any unpleasantness.
She stood up out of her chair, and with Liam and Victoria's help on
each arm she was able to settle onto her back, laying on the creeper.

“Victoria check the window. Hayes, grab the keys for that
other lock and hold Grandma here while I break down her chair.”

Hayes had recovered enough to take stock of this quirky group. His
voice was raggedy as he got the keys.

“Thanks for letting me in. I never thought it would come to
this. Why did those men start shooting us? Don't they know we're
trying to help?”

No one had time to answer. Gunshots, seemingly outside the door,
were very loud. Everyone made for the tunnel.

Liam seemed to take charge. He finished breaking down the chair,
and ordered Hayes to go first with the keys and with the chair.

“Victoria do we need two flashlights down there?”

“It'll be fine, there are a few turns, but it is very flat
and uniform all the way to the end. It isn't that far.”

Hayes shoved himself in with the keys and wheelchair, not waiting
to be invited.

“OK, I guess you're going next Grandma, you ready to roll?”

“I'm not getting any younger!” She loved that one.

Liam began pushing her on the creeper, but not before he heard
banging on the door again and saw a shadow at the window. Victoria
was closest to the entry and made a move for it when the face
exploded against the glass. Gunshots tore through the upper part of
the door, a couple ricocheting off the metal of the machinery in the
room.

“Turn off your light Victoria. Hurry! Let's go!”

He saw her make for the tunnel, so he began pushing Grandma with
haste. He stopped though when he realized she wasn't getting in with
them. He chanced sending light back to Victoria. He saw tears on her
cheeks.

“It was nice meeting you, Marty. Take care of her Liam.”

Then she slammed the grate closed and dropped the lock into place
and locked it again. She tossed the keys into tunnel so Liam could
grab them. She didn't have time to pull the solid inner hatch closed.
She only needed the outer one locked. It took him a few seconds to
realize what she was doing.

She stood there momentarily before speaking in a broken voice, “I
have to do this.”

Then she ran for the stairs.

“Victoria!” He blurted it out without thinking who
might hear.

Liam had an urge to scream her name again, go back for her—but
he knew it would be pointless now. She had locked herself out, and
them in. Whatever she was going to do, she was on her own.

He sat in the confined space for several moments as he thought
about his options. In the end he knew there was only one. He started
to push the creeper again, to get as far down the tunnel as he could
before anyone else came in the room—perhaps with intentions to
shoot them.

“Dang it. I really liked her.” Only Grandma heard him,
but she said nothing.

He hated himself for thinking it, but his immediate reflection was
that he wished he had gotten to kiss her before she left him, like
they do in the movies.

I'm a pathetic hero.

The last thing he saw was the glow of her flashlight moving up the
steps toward the top of the Arch. In true heroic fashion, she was
drawing the shooters away, at mortal risk to herself.

The shooting at the door continued for a couple minutes.
Apparently the gunmen weren't very good shooting door handles or the
steel was very strong. By the time they were through, Liam was near
the end of the tunnel. He could hear men talking to themselves and
then they began yelling about the light they saw going up the metal
staircase.

All the escapees slithered quietly to the end of the tunnel,
making good on Victoria's sacrifice.

Liam and Grandma slid out the end of the service duct and found
themselves inside a long train tunnel with a double line of tracks
running through it. Several people were already sitting inside and
were surprised to see three people come out of the dark hole in the
wall. Liam was surprised no one bothered to ask questions. They just
went back to whatever they were doing.

That was fine with Liam. He wasn't in the mood to jaw-jack anyway.
He got Grandma out of the tunnel, then he and Hayes helped her into
her wheelchair. The packed rock under the railroad tracks made it
difficult to roll her around, but they weren't going anywhere for
now, so she was content to be parked and then given time to relax.
The act of lying down on the creeper and getting back up had once
again sapped her of her strength.

Liam slammed his backpack down on the dirty rocks and then took a
seat next to it. He was getting more and more upset at the turn of
events leading to the loss of his new friend. He recognized the
muffled sounds of gunfire coming from outside the tunnel on the
grounds surrounding the Arch but wasn't in the mood to think about
what was going on out there. For now it was more important to rest
and formulate some kind of plan. Maybe a plan to save Victoria.

He was just turning to thoughts of going back in when Hayes sat
down and began rambling about his situation.

“I can't believe those hoodlums shot us. We tried to tell
them we were with the CDC and we were there to help, but that seemed
to enrage them even more. The hell of it is we aren't even really
WITH the CDC, more like glorified roadies who move the gear for the
pinheads with the lab coats.”

He seemed to consider what he was going to say next. Liam couldn't
help but be interested.

“I did learn something from the pinheads though...”

He looked around like he was participating in a conspiracy.
Seemingly satisfied he wasn't being overheard, he continued.

“The virus causing all this was made in a lab.”

Liam, having read many books on zombies had an immediate retort,
“Isn't that kind of obvious? A natural virus doesn't just
explode across the world, kill people, and then bring them back to
life, does it?”

Hayes looked at him with newfound respect. “You don't seem
to be fazed by all this. I'm sorry you lost your friend by the way.
She saved me too.”

“Well I'm not fazed anymore. Two days ago when I was
attacked by a berserk Yoga lady I was pretty 'fazed.' After the next
several zombies attacked me I started to get used to it. Now I guess
I'm immune to the weirdness of it, even if I'm not used to all the
blood yet. Not sure I'll ever get used to that.” He patted his
stomach and closed with, “my stomach has issues with the sight
of blood.”

“So you call them zombies too? I hear that more and more,
but I don't really get it. Aren't zombies things that come out of
caskets and walk around slowly moaning about brains?”

Liam had similar taxonomical reflections on this very topic, but
he was convinced the things he'd seen would be classified as zombies
by almost anyone.

“You are talking about old-school zombies. Originally I
think that is what people thought zombies were—the dead who
climb out of the ground and chomp brains of those too slow to run
away.” He scratched his head, then watched as dust fell like
rain from his mop. “I think there was an old movie that started
people thinking like that. Later, the slow poke zombies were laughed
away as not threatening enough. Today zombies can be almost any
speed—” He went on to give his ideas on the various kinds
of zombies.