Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Since the Sirens (7 page)

Marty looked around. Everything was so perfect, it just HAD to be
Heaven. But if it wasn't—she had a sudden fear that if this
wasn't Heaven, it might be...somewhere else.

Al reassured her they weren't in the bad place.

“We are merely taking a stroll in your mind. Your recent
trauma has led you to me, or me to you. Hard to say. This is a way to
reunite and look at what comes next. Are you ready for what comes
next?”

She admitted she had no idea what he was talking about.

“The plague. The infected dead. The chaos. Are you ready to
help your family survive this thing or not?”

“Al, my love, you might not have noticed, but I'm 104. My
days of doing much of anything important are well behind me.”

“Said the lady who single-handedly fought off a horrific
infected woman who was once your nurse. Not many people would have
been able to survive that. You're a fighter. Have been since the day
we met. That was really amazing how you remembered that old rope.”

“I felt your presence helping me figure it out.”

“My dear, you figured that out all by yourself.”

Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. Marty's religious
beliefs were very strong, and she didn't believe in ghosts or spirits
or anything supernatural walking the Earth. But she desperately
wanted to believe this was real.
He
was real. Even so, she
continued to think of the physical world.

“What of poor Angie? Is she still alive?”

“I don't think so. I think her soul has moved on. Her and
many like her are succumbing to this sickness.”

They prayed together. Al and Marty. Just like the old days.
Somehow she was on her knees, and they both prayed to the Creator for
guidance. When they were done, Al took her hand and helped her back
up, and they walked over to the patio and sat together as if it were
just a normal day for them. It could have been any day from among the
70-plus years they had together. If it wasn't Heaven it sure felt
like it to Marty. But it also made her sad to sit there with him,
knowing he couldn't be real.

“But I'm real enough my dear. I'm here to help you face this
challenge. People out there are going to need you. Liam is out there
right now. He is young and reckless, but you know deep in his heart
he would stop at nothing to protect you. He is probably riding a fire
truck here right now.”

They laughed together.

“But why would anyone risk their life for an old woman? It
doesn't make any sense.”

Al had a twinkle in his eye when he looked at her, but said
nothing else on the matter.

They sat there for a long time, chair next to chair, hand in hand.
Marty didn't want it to ever end, but knew it would.

“I have to go, and so do you my sweet Marty. I wish I could
tell you everything is going to be alright and that everyone you love
is going to survive this catastrophe. But you've seen things outside
your window. Things will get worse. Then they will get
much
worse. The sick will get sicker and the survivors will become more
and more desperate as their reality splinters. You have to look deep
in your heart to help your family get through this. You are very
special—that I'm here talking to you tells me that. You can
help them. You can help everyone.”

“I'm an unlikely hero. I can barely stand up on my own
anymore. And someone is going to be saddled with taking care of
me...”

“You don't give yourself enough credit. In another universe
you passed away peacefully in your sleep today. The opportunities for
you in this one are still endless. You could live to be 120!”

Marty was full of questions, but at that moment a huge buzzard
dropped out of the sky and landed hard right in the birdbath, chasing
the bluebirds away. Its bald head was covered in blood, as if it had
been digging inside something—fresh. She tried to look away,
but those eyes were looking right at her. All the while the dripping
blood made the pristine birdbath water run red.

Al appeared unimpressed. “I'm so sorry you must endure this
filth.”

“What caused this disease?” She asked Al as he got up
and pulled her out of her chair.

“My love, you were always whip smart. That was one of the
things I adored about you, and still do. That is the right question,
but the wrong time. The really important question right now is how
can you
survive
the disease?”

“OK, how do we—”

2

“Grandma!” Liam was not quite shouting, but loudly
whispering if such a thing was possible.

He ran up next to her bed and was comforted to see she was alive.
She had been mumbling in her sleep as he approached and woke soon
after. He tried not to think again of the possibility she might have
been dead. Being alone scared him more than the plague right now.

“I'm so glad you're here. Things aren't right outside.”

He briefly considered mentioning he saw her out front struggling
to get away from Angie but something made him avoid the subject and
instead focus on his own encounter with the sick nurse.

“I ran into Angie and she chased me around the house, but I
managed to jump the fence and get inside the cellar door before she
could touch me. She has some kind of sickness.”

Grandma gave him a clear-eyed look, but continued to lay on her
bed in silence. He noted she was still fully clothed, shoes and all.
She was holding her prized Rosary, which wasn't unusual—but
both her hands were on her chest grasping it, as if she had laid down
and never expected to wake up. It was very disconcerting for him.

Liam watched her for a moment, expecting some kind of reaction,
but she remained silent.

He didn't push the issue.

“Well I walked back from the library and it is just as crazy
everywhere else as it is in our yard. There are speeding cars, people
shooting guns—he left out the bit where they were shooting at
him—and sick people running through the neighborhood. Oh and
there are thieves rifling through garages in the alleyway.”

No response.

“Grandma do you know what's going on?”

But she had dozed off again.

Liam removed her shoes, considered trying to get her under the
covers, but settled for finding a comforter and throwing it over her.
She must really be bushed to nap when so much was going on outside,
but Liam understood her advanced age gave her the right to sleep
whenever she dang well pleased.

I'll just wait until she wakes up and then we'll figure this
thing out together.

The hours began ticking away.

Liam listened at the windows. The city outside was in full on
collapse the whole time.

3

Liam spent much of the afternoon resting from his ordeal getting
home. If he wasn't checking in on Grandma he was fidgeting with the
radio, trying to understand what was happening. Other than the
emergency alert message—playing on all stations—there was
no useful information forthcoming anywhere on the dial. They all said
the same thing. Evacuate to safer jurisdictions. None of the radio
personalities knew precisely where to go...

As the sun set over the city, Liam was checking the rechargeable
flashlight he found in Grandma's cupboard. Liam's father was a bit of
a Type-A and had insisted she have a fully stocked larder at all
times, as well as a plethora of survival gear such as flashlights,
sewing kits, fishing kits, and all manner of camping supplies. He
also made sure she had a high quality tool box with an appropriate
quantity of quality hand tools. He told Liam he knew Grandma would
likely never use any of them, but anyone who was watching over her or
helping her out would have everything necessary. Dad often dug into
the tools fixing things up in the house.

As he was looking things over with his bright flashlight, he idly
wondered if he himself was a piece of equipment in dad's toolbox for
Grandma? Did dad send him here to protect her? Was he that smart, or
just lucky? He always seemed to have a way about him that said he was
looking ahead to what may come. Like buying insane amounts of ammo
when it went on sale. Mom always said he was crazy, but never made a
serious effort to dissuade him from purchasing his “life
insurance” as he called it. Liam found it unnatural to ascribe
any positive qualities to his father given their recent falling out,
but he knew his dad did right by Grandma at least—giving her
these supplies. Now he had a fighting chance to help her.

So what was he going to do next? Hunker down with Grandma inside
her house? It seemed the most obvious solution given her advanced
age, and the hostility he found on a simple neighborhood walk. Yet he
was hearing the gunfire outside, and the men ransacking the garages
didn't inspire much hope in things staying friendly on the block. No
wonder that man was perched in his window with a hunting rifle.
Staying home and riding things out was an option, but probably not a
good one.

The other option was getting Grandma out of the city, or at least
somewhere safer than this house. Where could they go? Liam was just a
kid during Hurricane Katrina, but he had a vivid recollection of the
people stuck in the New Orleans Superdome. Were St. Louisans lining
up downtown at their football stadium this very minute? It didn’t
seem like a good idea to have so many people in one place with a
disease going around. It seemed incompetent, even to a boy of
fifteen.

He could get a glimpse of more incompetence by listening to the
radio. The broadcasts were decidedly unhelpful about instructing
residents on how to survive this crisis, as all stations parroted the
same line about “waiting for instructions” from local
officials. The window for useful help was closing quickly.

Enough with the “preparing,” just tell us what to
do.

Liam considered getting Grandma out to his mom and dad's house.
Would they be pissed he took Grandma on an underage car ride? Grandma
hadn't driven since the 1980's, and she probably couldn't even reach
the pedals anymore. If they did drive out of the city, it would have
to be him. On the other hand, maybe dad would drive into the city.
That would solve his problems by handing the responsibility to his
father, but something about that notion didn't sit well.

Liam tried to think things through. Was there somewhere better to
drive Grandma? Maybe over to Illinois? It was a shorter distance in
terms of time spent in the crowded city compared to driving south to
mom and dad's. Once over the Mississippi River it was open country.
At least they could avoid the plague victims over there. The big
problem was Grandma couldn't just live in a car or tent somewhere
eating baked beans until things got back to normal.

Liam hesitated to finish his thought, but he knew he had to look
at all options.

I could just leave her.

It sounded harsh as he thought it. Could he leave Grandma on her
own? What if he told himself he was going to get help and then come
back and rescue her? Even as the thought entered his mind he knew he
would probably never come back once he was out, especially if things
were worse out in the wider world. Maybe if the military settled
things down...

Leaving Grandma would free him up to travel light and fast, but
the idea of ditching his grandma for expediency didn't sit well with
him.

Oddly, he thought of his father at that moment. He knew his dad
would do everything in his power to save this woman, and he knew it
would let his dad down tremendously if he walked in the door saying
he left Grandma to fend for herself because “she was
inconvenient.”

Oh great. I'm now my father.

But, he had to admit that sometimes—just sometimes—dad
got things right.

He was startled from his reverie by the presence of Grandma in her
doorway. She was awake at last.

4

“Grandma!” He ran over and gave her a hug before he
knew what he was doing. Under normal circumstances he liked to keep
his distance.

“I'm happy to see you too Liam. I think we are in a bit of a
pickle together.”

He filed that as understatement of the year. Gunshots nearby
accentuated the issue.

“Help me over to my chair if you would. I'm still a bit
wobbly from my—” she clearly hesitated here as if
deciding to expand her thought. “—fainting spell. Those
tornado sirens nearly made me jump out of my shoes.”

He helped her to her chair, then sat down nearby and began
speaking in the nervous cadence of someone who has been waiting a
long time to talk. He told her about the walk home, in all its
detail.

“Whoa! Take a breath. You are saying someone shot at you?
Are you OK?”

Oops, he forgot to edit that part out.

“How long have I been sleeping? I know it's dark outside. Is
this still the same day?”

“You slept through the afternoon. I've been getting a bunch
of stuff together in a backpack so we can escape somewhere. I've just
not figured out how to travel or where to go.”

Grandma was thoughtful for a few moments.

“OK Liam. I want you to get out of the city. You can get out
before it gets too bad.”

Here it was. Liam recognized she was giving him his out. He could
walk away with her blessing, and it would be a logical story when he
reached mom and dad's. She told me to go! He turned it over in his
head. Looked at it from multiple angles. But always he saw his father
shaking his head. Would dad leave her at the most desperate hour like
this?

Hell no!

“I'm sorry Grandma, but I can't leave you. We have to get
out together or stick it out here together.”

“You know that doesn't make any sense. I'm an old woman.
I'll probably be dead before you know it and then you'll be stuck
here after things have gotten much worse than they are right this
minute. You have to get out while you still can.”

“Grandma, I'm not leaving you. My dad would never leave you.
My grandpa would never have left you. Great-Grandpa sure as heck
wouldn't have thought of abandoning you. I'm staying.”