Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6 (36 page)

They talked for a minute about radio frequencies, the situation in
the streets around them, and the plan he hoped to execute down at the
southern tip of the town. But his last order was the most important.

“Get this bird in the air. Get those civilians to safety,”
he said while pointing to those in the back of the plane. He said it
mainly to cover his own ass. There weren’t many townsfolk left
alive, other than those who refused to leave their homes. But if the
Marines saw any before liftoff, it would be good to authorize them to
grab as many as possible. “And then I want you to head south to
Wickliffe, Kentucky.” He pointed south. “It’s the
next town down the river. That’s the rally point for what’s
left.”

“Understood.”

“And Marine?”

“Sir?”

“I’m sorry about your CO.”

With a grim nod, he went back to the defense of the aircraft for a
moment. He said something to his two teammates, then ran inside.

John ushered Chloe off the ramp, and toward his patrol.

“Listen,” he said just loud enough for her to hear
him. “I have a special job for you. You’ve done some good
work on our defenses, and I can only trust this to someone who
understands the big picture. My command has been compromised, though
I think any traitors would have left a long time ago.”

He stopped her midway between the tanks and the Osprey.

“In that tank is a dear friend of mine. She’s 104. Her
name is Marty Peters.”

“The one you've been protecting,”

He nodded and motioned to the tank.

“If something should happen to me, I’m tasking you
with keeping her alive. She is an enemy of my enemy, if that makes
any sense to you.”

“Perfectly, sir. But, sir, what if something does happen to
you? Where do you want her to go?”

She always goes right to the core of the problem.

“That dead man in there was looking for Ms. Peters. The
woman who left me for dead tried to have Ms. Peters killed. I walked
in on that attempt and put a stop to it. Now, I’m...ah, I guess
you'd say marked, because of that. It may be better if I didn’t
tell you where to take her. If I’m killed, your life will be in
danger.”

He watched for her reaction.

“Disappear. I can do that.” She reached out her hand
to shake it when a Blackhawk helicopter caught his eye gliding low
near the Missouri bridge—out over the barges below that span.
There had been no such helicopters in Cairo since he’d been
there, which suggested the people inside were not his.

The back door of Marty’s house faced the Missouri bridge.
Chloe said they’d run out the back door and had to have gone in
that direction. They certainly didn’t go north, into the zombie
horde.

“Sir, we’ve got to leave.”

The ramp of the Osprey had already folded up. A couple 50’s
on the roofs of the Humvees rattled and pointed at the arriving wave
of zombies. Two runners actually passed John and Chloe as they stood
there, only to be put down by the service pistol of one of the Humvee
drivers. He’d held his gun out his window, gangster style.

Everything is breaking down. And here I’m about to do
something stupid.

“Chloe, go. Take care of Marty.”

“What about you?”

He looked to the nearby bridge, and the chopper floating next to
it.

“I’ll catch up with you. Trust me!”

He knew what he had to do to protect his men, his equipment, the
old lady in Alpha-1, and any future they might have after today.

He banged on Brandyweis’s rifle, then slung it over his
shoulder. It was mostly to bolster himself for what he was about to
do. He passed orders using the radio of the nearest Humvee, then ran.

The Osprey glided up and leaned south. His ground team spun around
and tore off, though they’d only get as far as the southern
point of land at the confluence of the rivers. Unless Tom showed up
with his miracle, it looked like saving the vehicles was going to be
out of his hands. He breathed lighter knowing his men and women would
escape, even if they had to swim.

He silently thanked his people for not trying to follow him.

Elsa would expect me to roll in with my tanks and machine guns.
She’ll never expect a lowly old general to sneak up on her.

Getting to the Missouri bridge was harder than it looked. The
ground to the south and west of town was wide open and flat, which
was perfect terrain to be seen by the fastest zombies devouring the
rest of Cairo. Several times he had to line up his shots and put down
runners as they approached him.

He breathed in deep heaves when he reached the rough shoreline
next to the procession of barges floating in the Mississippi. The
Blackhawk still drifted near where it had been, and now he could see
ropes being tossed down from the open rear compartment.

There was no thought of taking things slow and reconnoitering the
site from the safety of the woods. The zombies saw him on the open
fields, and there were too many behind him.

Whatever was going to happen, he’d lost the element of
surprise.

The helicopter seemed to settle over one of the outermost barges
still attached to a small towboat. There was a primitive walkway over
all the barges between the shore and that outer barge. He got to the
top of the first ramp. He kicked the plank so he couldn't be followed
by the zombies. There was about a five-foot differential any zombie
would have to climb if they wanted to follow him. He'd prefer fifty
feet, but it was better than zero.

Far ahead, a pair of young kids each escorted a hunched-over old
lady. They walked the decks of the barges tethered together, but he
guessed they were going to the same destination as him, under the
helicopter. Like magic, they all moved toward the same spot.

“What the hell?” He ducked down behind some maritime
equipment on the front of one of the barges.

The kids looked up at the helicopter, but went down, out of his
sight.

He wanted to run toward the action, but a direct charge against a
Blackhawk was folly.

He stayed low and moved in a different direction.

The drones kept their station near the exit of the barge. Victoria
and Jane had just enough time to chat with the small number of awake
elderly in the boat before another disturbance drew everyone's
attention to the stairs again.

Two sets of feet started down. She somewhat recognized the girl
holding a senior citizen companion.

Victoria watched as Debbie reached the metal floor of the
makeshift hospital barge. The old woman on her arm wasn’t
Marty. She had mixed feelings. Wouldn't Grandma be in a boat full of
people her age? But if they were collecting the elderly, wouldn't it
be better she
wasn't
there?

A second couple came down the steps behind her, and her roller
coaster emotions headed upward again. It wasn't her. A teenaged boy
with sloppy hair helped the elderly woman to the base of the steps.
She moved a step in that direction, then stopped when she confirmed
who he was.

“Liam!”

He looked up at her, then made sure the two little old ladies
helped each other stand, and finally ran to her.

They closed thirty or so feet of distance and were seemingly about
to throw themselves into an embrace when Victoria pulled up short and
pushed out her arm to him.

“Wait, Liam. Just wait.”

“What?”

“I, uh. Need a moment.”

She wanted to tell him she was infected, but with all her soul she
wanted to experience the comfort of his arms. Though it had only been
a couple days, it felt like they’d been separated for a
lifetime. Now was the time to indulge in expressions of love and
assurances such a time apart would never happen again.

But what if I’m infected?

Her mind was very confused at the lengthy chain of questions she
now had for herself.

Was she infected? That was the foundation for all the rest. If she
was infected, when did she get the virus? Or, more properly, did she
already expose Liam to its effects. What if he was immune, like
Marty? Then it would be OK to hug him.

We haven’t shared everything, but we’ve shared
enough.

They’d breathed the same air. Shared the same food. Even
kissed.

She had to hug him. Her body screamed for her to do it.

“I think...I think I’m infected,” she said with
deep sadness. “I don’t want you to get it,” she
tossed the words like a dead fish onto the cutting board.

Liam took some time to interpret her words and the emotions behind
them. She saw his mind working by reading his face. The rest of the
room could have been on fire, but her attention was on him.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’m
actually infected. Hayes told me,” she said flatly.

“Hayes?” He looked around, finally noticing her
traveling partner, Jane.

“What’s
she
doing here?”

“Hi,” Jane said, “I saved your girlfriend’s
life, so you’re welcome.” She wasn’t mean about it,
but wasn’t exactly friendly, either.

Liam’s head was on a swivel.

“He’s not here, Liam. Hayes.”

“Where'd he go?”

“He got out of the helicopter somewhere on the way. A big
concrete factory.”

She noted he was unarmed. Debbie carried a double-barreled
shotgun, though. It stoked her curiosity, but first, she had to
resolve the present crisis.

“Liam, listen. I don’t know what’s going on
here, but I think we—Jane and Doug included—are being
hunted.”

“I came here because you have a tracking device on you.
Maybe, in you.” He pointed to her chest.

“Liam, I’m scared,” she said it quietly, hoping
only he would hear.

“Me too. I have so much I want to tell you.”

“I do, too. But you can’t touch me.” She stepped
back once, to emphasize her point. Her voice cracked at the final two
words.

Liam stepped forward one step. “I don’t know what to
say. You don’t look like a zombie,” he said with a smile.

“No, it’s not like that. Hayes said there are carriers
of the disease who don’t know they have it. They go out and
infect others...”

“Hayes,” he said angrily. “How did he find you?
What's his deal?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. Hayes saved my life,
the same as Jane did.”

She saw the dissension on his face.

“You can’t trust him. I don’t trust him. I don’t
think you can possibly be infected. You’ve been with me...”

She assumed he meant to end that with “the whole time,”
but both knew that wasn’t true. Even when they were together on
their adventures, there were periods when they were separated. Like
when she was shot.

He changed his line of reasoning. “Victoria. I love you.
We’ve been together, uh, in close proximity, that if you had
any sickness, I’m
sure
I would have caught it.” He
winked at her.

She wanted to believe his words. But if he was wrong, she’d
kill him just as surely as if she was a zombie.

“I can’t be certain. I would never want to risk your
life. Not like this.”

Before she knew what was happening, he had rushed in and wrapped
his arms around her. She melted into him with an emotional sob.

“Liam, no…”

“Silly girl,” he whispered, “where you go, I go.
There’s no way you can be infected.”

“You can touch me, but we shouldn’t—”

He kissed her. She tasted the salt of her own tears, and she
embraced him. In front of the sick in the beds, Jane, Debbie, and
numerous drone operators sitting who-knows-where, she finally allowed
herself to risk her feelings, and her life, with Liam.

Her belief that she was infected receded into an inconsequential
corner of her mind. The incident with the zombie girl in the red
dress was just a coincidence. Hayes was the liar he'd always been.

The rest of her brain embraced the soul of her Zombie Apocalypse
partner.

Thank you, Liam, for accepting me.

2

“We’re in this together, and I don’t believe for
a second you’re infected,” Liam assured her.

Debbie interrupted. “Excuse me, um, Liam. Hi, Victoria. Can
you help me get these women to their beds?”

His face looked as confused as her own. “I don’t
know,” he said in a whisper. Was she pointing the shotgun at
Liam?

Debbie walked a few feet away, then turned back when she saw Liam
hadn't moved. “Liam. Help me,” she said with a touch of
anger.

“OK, right.” He smiled at Victoria, gripped her arms
tightly as a reassurance, then walked off. He eyed her rifle with a
deliberate glance.

The instant he was gone, Jane sidled up to her. “I can’t
figure out what this place is supposed to be. There are no doctors or
nurses.”

Victoria scanned the room—it was like the experiment back at
Washington University in some ways—but she couldn’t solve
it, either. Debbie guided Liam and the two women to the closest beds.

“We should go,” Jane whispered, almost in her ear,
“while we still can.”

“Those drones could shoot us if they wanted us dead. I’ve
seen them,” she whispered back.

“We have to try. I can’t...we can’t get trapped,
like this.”

She looked at Jane anew. Her red hair had become messed up from
her headphones, and windblown from the air whipping through their
helicopter. Her face remained unemotional, even as she sounded
scared. It was impossible to read her.

“Did you know this would happen? That we would get trapped?”
Victoria had learned enough over the weeks to never underestimate
anyone.

“No. You were supposed to take us to Marty, remember? Now
we're in some laboratory from Hell.”

Victoria looked around. “It doesn't look
that
bad.”

Jane firmly gripped her arm. “Haven't you been paying
attention? Someone wants us dead. They want Douglas and me to die—”