Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6 (23 page)

With a nod, his voice became a whisper. “The service men and
women they dug up down there were supposed to be used for testing,
but once the NIS mission changed from causing the infection to
making
it as bad as possible
, they started to dig up more and more
bodies. What they did with them, I have no idea.”

“There are hundreds of them down in that mine.”

“Then you need to stay far away.”

“Oh, I'm never going back down there. Don't you worry.”

With a little less discretion, Hayes spoke louder. “I had
nothing to do with all that, though I wish I could get my hands on
some of that reanimated blood. It might give us further clues in how
the disease is spreading, and how it stays virulent in decaying
bodies.”

“Good luck with that,” she said as she began walking
once more.

Hayes jogged a few paces to catch up. “You know, I could use
your help. I need to find a new lab, but I'll need help when I get
there. It's just me, now. You could be a real asset.”

She'd come full circle. Her whole purpose—most of her
purpose—of staying behind was to see if she help Doctor Yu and
others with the effort to formulate a cure. When they'd arrived, and
given Yu and her boss new information about what they'd learned on
their journey, she thought for sure that was the beginning of the
end. The time when real scientists and doctors got to work to solve
the whole thing.

But the truth was much different. The research on the cure was
being done by the one man she'd hoped never to see again. To her
chagrin, he'd made real discoveries. He'd given everyone a legitimate
lead toward a final cure.

She had to trust him to continue that research, in the open. If he
made off to a secret base again, he might find the cure, but who
knows how he'd use it when the time came to share it with the world.
Her trust issues wouldn't let her ignore the possibilities.

“There's a house, just up ahead, where we might find Liam.”

The first step, once again, was to find her partner. She wanted to
have multiple eyes on Hayes, and together the two of them could
ensure Doctor Cure didn't run off again.

She also admitted the need to stay close to the one man who might
be able to cure her own infection.

3

Hayes walked the street with a type of giddiness.

“Why the heck are you so happy?”

“Oh, it feels good to be partnered with someone again. You
have no idea—well, you have some idea—what it's like to
get on the NIS's bad side.”

“Yeah, they put your whole family on a kill list, isn't that
right?” They both knew of the existence of the secret list of
Liam's family members. All of whom had been designated as enemies of
the state.

“True. But now that world is dead, my own family's chances
are about the same as everyone else's. Even though I'm technically a
traitor to the cause, the odds of them finding my entire family and
terminating them is very low. Some of them are already fighting
back.”

Victoria sighed. “I don't understand you people at all. You
fight. You connive. You betray.”

“Just like every other group of humans on the planet. For
all their bravado and careful planning, they couldn't factor out
human nature. Sometimes people do the exact opposite of what you and
I think they should. Even on super secret committees and hit teams.
But make no mistake. There are true believers. They would sell out
their own children to protect
the cause
.”

“And what is...
the cause
,” she said
dramatically.

“The continuation of mankind, of course.”

“What? No. It can't be that simple. This has to be about
power. Money. Something important.”

“All that is part of it. A necessary component. But that
isn't why these people spend their lives in pursuit of their goals.
It is much simpler. It is the most basic thing in existence. They
want their families to go on forever.”

Victoria stopped in the middle of the empty street. “I don't
believe you. They're killing everyone on Earth! If their goal was
long life, they'd have built hospitals, conducted research, trained
doctors and scientists. You know, the stuff that keeps people
alive
,”
she said hotly.

“You're right of course. That was their goal, for many
decades. They had a hand in many of the important scientific
discoveries of the last fifty years. But this new crisis hit them
like a freight train. They had no way to head it off. They—”

He looked around.

“—I was there when all this began. I already told you
my role. I helped the President release the plague on those marchers.
I thought I was protecting humanity—protecting the institutions
which had the most hope of doing exactly what I just said.” He
paused.

“But it got out of hand.”

“Yes, the plague was already loose, overseas. My innocuous
virus helped spread it across America, much faster than it might have
otherwise. But it was always coming. And once the NIS knew this, they
enacted their own plans to protect themselves, and their families, at
the expense of everyone else. They stripped the treasury. Promoted
and demoted the right people. They even tolerated my research until
they realized my priorities had changed. I was unwilling to do
whatever it took to protect
the cause
.”

“So you're hated because you want to cure everyone, and not
just those they deem important?”

He touched his nose, signifying she was right.

She went back and forth over who the NIS hated more. Her and Liam,
or Hayes. She was leaning toward Hayes.

“Up ahead is a house of an old man. He, uh, was someone I
drew blood from because of his age. We kind of made a base there,
rather than hang out in the park.”

“Or your dorm room,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Or my dorm room, you perv.” She did not return the
smile.

“So what's his deal? He like Grandma Marty?”

“He's...interesting.” It was all she could say without
revealing the truth.

“Let's go meet him. We can grab Liam and go.”

She wondered where he intended to go, but saved that for later. As
they walked up the front path of the big home, she unslung her rifle
and tried to look like she knew what she was doing. She thumbed the
safety, though it was already in the “hot” position. She
hadn't given a thought to safety since she'd taken the rifle.

“The last time we knocked on the door he fired a gun at us,”
she said with no humor.

“Maybe I'll wait over here,” he said as he walked off
to the side.

Fine.

“Hello? Mr. Grubmeyer? I'm picking up Liam.” She
wished it to be true.

She repeated herself at the bottom of the steps to his front
stoop.

“Don't shoot,” she called out.

After a few long seconds, she moved a few steps up and repeated
herself. In time she was at the door.

The heavy wooden door had a large metal handle, which she assumed
was locked. She gave it a tentative push and felt the door open a
couple of inches. She let go and froze.

“Mr. Grubmeyer?”

A long pause.

She turned back to Hayes, standing nearby in the yard. “I'm
going in. I have to.”

“Knock yourself out. Let me know what you find,” he
said with a smile.

I'll be the man. Again.

The door swung in gracefully. As expected, the front room was
filled with boxes of supplies. The place looked like a loading dock.
Wooden crates were stacked to the ceiling. Every inch of the floor
had supplies, leaving very little space in the middle for a couple of
chairs. Hallways led to the back of the house and to the stairwell.
She knew the place well, but the silence was eerie.

She backed to the front door, swung it all the way open, the
looked for Hayes. He'd moved closer and was at the foot of the steps.

“I don't see anyone inside. Will you come in? It's creepy.”

He doesn't have to know I'm scared.

There should be someone from the Patriot Snowball group inside.
They'd made an arrangement with Hans—Liam did. They'd go pick
up his tanks for him, and he'd provide provisions. A kind of hidden
base for them to use this close to Forest Park. It was a match made
in Heaven, or so she thought.

Hayes hesitated at the front steps.

“Please?”

The turmoil was visible on his face. Come inside to help the
teenage girl, or stay outside where it was safe. She wasn't about to
complain that he owed her. She wanted to save that for future use.

He came up the steps with care, and when he reached the front door
and saw inside he hesitated.

Victoria looked inside. All she saw were the boxes.

“What is it?”

“Who lives here, did you say?”

“Hans Grubmeyer.”

“How did you find him?” His face was pale.

She tried to arrange the chain of events properly.

“We were looking for old people at the hospital. They said
Hans had been released recently and sent back home. We found him
here. It was the address listed on his admission paperwork.”

“Where's Liam? Why isn't he here?” Hayes' voice was
uncharacteristically emotional.

“He's
out
. Why does it matter?”

“Because you won't tell me. And the fact you've just walked
us into an NIS supply drop doesn't give me much comfort, either.”

Something moved in the shadows of the hallway.

God. Don't let this be the end.

She readied her rifle.

4

Victoria got down on one knee like Liam had shown her. With
careful aim, she put several rounds into the face of the
military-looking male zombie stumbling out of the hallway. As soon as
it hit the light, she knew he wasn't NIS. It was one of the Patriots
left behind to keep the place safe until Liam and Lana returned.

Though the bullets were tiny, her aim was true. The zombie slid
noisily on the wooden floor and came to a rest a few feet from her.

“I got him,” she turned to tell Hayes, but he had
gone.

“You big sissy!”

She removed one of her hands from the gun, noticed it was shaking,
and then gripped the frame again.

“Hans?” she said with trepidation.

No reply came from within the house.

“Is it clear?” Hayes asked from somewhere out front.

“Yes. The zombie is dead.”

Victoria poked her head down each of the two hallways but wasn't
interested in searching the whole house. For the moment, she was
content to know the front room was safe.

Hayes was there when she backed into the front room.

“What are you good for?” she asked with a scalding
tone.

He didn't reply.

When she got a look at the zombie, it had something on its face
that screamed for her attention. It was a white sheet of paper, and
it had been duct taped to the side of the man's face.

“One of us needs to check this out,” she pointed to
the sheet with the barrel of her rifle. “It has to be you
unless you want to hold the gun.”

“O-OK,” he replied.

After much effort to remove the duct tape without ripping the
paper, he had it in his hand. It was a folded sheet of stout paper
with fancy wording on the front.

“It's a wedding invitation.”

“Seriously? What does
that
mean?”

“I told you. These people play to win. This is Elsa's. The
invite is for her wedding with one M. Duchesne.”

“What's it doing here?” she asked, though she was
starting to get a sense of it.

He stared at it for a long moment, then showed it to her. Someone
used a pen to print large block letters near the top of the page. It
said: “For Douglas Hayes, wedding crasher.”

“Who's it from?”

“It was Elsa. She knew I'd come here.” His voice
remained panicky. “Which is why we have to get out. Now.”
He threw down the paper, and backed to the door.

“But what's going on?”

“Don't you see, this is a trap.”

“Help.” The voice came from inside the room, but from
behind some of the towers of boxes.

She looked at Hayes. He'd heard the voice, but kept going for the
door.

“We have to help.” She didn't know if that was true.

“No, we have to run.”

“Help, please,” came the male voice.

“We hear you,” she said firmly. Then she carefully
picked her way to a corner of the room with a small gap in the boxes.
The work boots of a man on the floor came into view.

“I'm here. Who are you?” she asked before she stuck
her head around.

“I'm shot. I recognized your voice. You are...begins with a
V...” the man said weakly.

“Victoria,” she replied.

She peeked around the corner, waiting to get shot. But the man was
down. No weapons visible.

“Hayes, I need help,” she called out. To her surprise,
he found her in moments. Together they lifted the man from his hiding
spot, as that was what it appeared to be, and got him to a chair in
the cramped room.

“It was the old man. He shot us. Said he wasn't going to be
taken alive.”

“How many were you?” Hayes asked.

“Me and Becker. We walked out back for some fresh air,
leaving that old bastard alone. All he did was sleep, anyway. We
heard gunshots and ran. When we came back, it was just him and his
pop gun standing over the bodies of two men in black uniforms. He
looked all proud like he'd just bagged a couple of lions on safari.
We thought someone had tried to rob him and were even congratulating
him on being such a good shot—and that's when the sonofabitch
shot us, too.”

He took a deep breath, appearing to be in pain. He had several
bloody spots on his upper chest. “Beck went right down. Hans
was a good shot, I'm afraid. I think he figured me for dead because I
stumbled into this room and threw myself into the boxes to get away
from him. He shouted some nonsense that 'she' wasn't going to kill
him. That the assassination attempt would fail.”