Zombies vs Polar Bears: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 5 (14 page)

A big part of him wanted to dispatch the runners that were still
trying to figure out why they were being prevented from reaching
their victims only a few feet away. The chain link fence was
wobbling, but he didn't think it would collapse, yet. Eventually
every fence falls…

“Victoria, we have to help my mom.”

“I know, but how?”

“Follow me,” he shouted.

He trotted to the right, in the direction the survivors were
moving. Thinking on the run, he didn't let the closest zombies
obscure his view of those below. His mom was playing a simple game of
leapfrog with the men and women below. A few would shoot, then scurry
backward and find another place to stop. They'd wait for the next few
shooters to run by, then they would shoot their guns a couple times
before doing the same. How they managed to organize such a thing was
a mystery.

The zombies running down the side were the real threat because
they were coming from a new direction. He only had a few seconds to
do
something
.

He jumped the fence, heading upriver along the bank.

“Liam!”

“Follow me!”

He heard her rush the fence and hop over it, but he didn't look
back. He found his place and ran down the embankment, roughly
parallel to the zombies doing the same behind him. The leaders had
already reached the bottom, but he could still affect the trajectory
of those following.

He settled in and brought his AK to bear, wondering how many
rounds he'd already fired. “Always count your shots,” he
dad had counseled. Back at the range it seemed a waste of time and
effort, but now it made sense.

For a few glorious seconds he shot at the zombies in profile, from
the side. He was firing away from his own mother now. Initially he
thought this was was going to be a massacre, but after several misses
he came to the belated conclusion that firing at running zombies from
the side was much harder than it looked.

The next few seconds were good and bad news. He soon had much
better views of the zombies because those at the top were now running
directly for him. From the front, their heads didn't move as much.
The bad news was they were now running directly for him.

“Remind me again why I don't plan military tactics, oh yeah,
this,” he said to himself.

Victoria was at his side, and soon they both were able to get a
few shots off. But it was a hopeless position. It wasn't that there
were too many zombies, but they were closing distance too quickly and
there was no way to get them all.

“Now we run, boyfriend!”

“Good call, girlfriend.”

He suspected she was trying to keep him calm with humor. It
usually worked, though he felt his bladder wobble as he stood up in
front of the closing runners. It was a confusing mixture of zombies
and humans running in many different directions. The end result, if
this was the end, was that not all the zombies from above went down
to his mom's position. Many had made it halfway down, only to be
diverted again by the targets closest to them—Liam and
Victoria.

But running over the sloped rocks was not as easy as running the
bike path or the bottom of the riverbed. There were large holes in
many places, as some of the fill rocks had broken or been removed
over the decades.

Fancy a broken ankle?

He thought back to his first encounters with Angie, back on day
one. He was terrified of breaking an ankle and being overwhelmed by
the sick nurse. Now he had the equivalent of twenty sick nurses
thirsty for him to twist his ankle in the uneven rocks.

Of course the zombies were far less concerned with the ground
below them. One loud crack made Liam look back. A large male zombie
put a foot into a hole and showed Liam what he could expect if he did
the same. The man tumbled down the slope. His exposed lower leg had
snapped and the bone protruded ominously from inside…

The shooters on the bottom had kept moving. The threat from above
was real, but Liam's ploy had made it possible for the people down
there to line up their shots and make them count. The crackle of
gunfire was even and disciplined. Something about the whole thing
made Liam think, once again, that Jason's group had some training for
this.

Victoria was in the lead, and she angled them down toward the
bottom at the bend in the river.

“Watch these rocks. Lots of loose ones.”

He was impressed at her dexterity as she cleared a large section
of oblong rocks that didn't fit at all with the even shapes of the
stones lining the rest of the slope. He held his rifle in both hands
in front of him and used it as a counterweight to balance himself as
he hopped from rock to rock on the move.

Don't fall.

He bounced left and right, and downward.

Falling is dying.

Victoria cleared the obstacle and landed on the river's bottom. It
was, in fact, paved in concrete there. All he had to do was get off
the rocks…

You aren't going to make it.

He didn't close his eyes, but he turned off his mind as he willed
his feet to be light as he sailed over the last of the rocks. When
his foot hit the concrete bottom he let out a whoop completely out of
line with what any observer might think appropriate. The field of
rocks wouldn't get a second look in the Old World. But here, with
zombies behind, the unknown ahead, and most importantly his
girlfriend already through the obstacle—it was the most
important task of his life.

He turned around. “Suck it, rocks!”

The zombies hit the uneven rocks and fell like trees. Their
numbers had decreased considerably, so he could appreciate the irony
without endangering his life. With his mom nearby, and Victoria
behind him, he crouched and brought his rifle to bear.

Time to end this race.

The sad click of his gun was the last thing he expected.

5

“Come on, Liam. Run!” It was his mom with a perfectly
reasonable request. He couldn't believe he was out of ammo, when the
zombies were in such a prime exposed position. It was always easier
to hit them when they were down. He'd done it numerous times,
especially back at the watchtower at Camp Hope. But now running
seemed like the best idea in the world.

Victoria helped him up. “Follow your mom.”

He slung his useless rifle and started running, again. On any
other day before the sirens he could have run five miles without
breaking a sweat. Ten miles would be a challenge. Fifteen miles would
be difficult, but doable with proper hydration and all that. He ran
track in high school, as it was the only sport he really enjoyed. His
parents insisted he “do something” and not just be a
“2:40 student” that cut out everyday with the final bell.
He put in his time, rode the public bus home on track nights, and
suffered along with everyone else. But it did get him in great shape.

In the Zombie Apocalypse, good cardio was a treasured skill to
have, but one of the most difficult to maintain. There weren't very
many places to get a good morning run in to keep up with it, and
without regular exercise every other day, the body would revert to a
baseline of fitness mediocrity pretty fast. Also, eating had become a
spectator sport for most adults—kids were given priority for
food. It was the one time Liam wished he was still a kid. It was
ironic he was too old for food, but too young for everything else…

In short, he was wheezing with everyone else as they ran to catch
up with the people who took off ahead of them. A few minutes went by
when they started to see people sitting on the rocks ahead.

Jason shouted ahead. “Run! You have to run.”

In moments Liam and Victoria reached those who had stopped. They
were ashen and spent. The man and woman were probably in their
fifties or early sixties. Not out of shape by appearance, but they
were doubled over panting like they'd completed a marathon.

He didn't know what to say to them that would get them moving,
beyond what they had to see was coming up the channel behind them
all. The zombies were now all down in the floodway bottom, screaming
and howling at the prey they could see fifty yards ahead of them. On
flat ground the zombies weren't as fast as an average human runner,
he'd decided, but they didn't suffer from the hassles of water
consumption, chafing, or fatigue.

“You guys…have...to run.”

“We're done for. We can't go another step,” the man
said. He had a rifle, but the magazine was missing. When he saw Liam
looking at it he explained they had no ammo to continue the fight.

He didn't want to admit defeat for the couple. It suddenly seemed
important he help them escape. That's why he reached for the arm of
the lady to pull her up.

“Come on. Go.”

The lady made no effort to stand, and the man actually pushed him
away.

“Leave us be. We're dead, can't you see that? We're all
dead...” His voice trailed away as he watched the zombies hone
in.

From nearby, Lana called out to Liam. “Move your asses, Liam
and Victoria. Now!”

She was still shooting, though only with single shots at anything
that got too close. The main group of zombie runners was still a
rock's throw away. They should be able to outpace them, if he ran
right away.

Victoria did what needed to be done. She pulled Liam's arm and got
him moving.

“God bless you,” she said to the couple as they left.

“Ha!” the man laughed. “God left us a long time
before this.”

Victoria pulled harder. “Run.”

As they got up to speed they ran through the shallow water and
linked up with Jason and Lana, along with the few shooters still able
to run and fire a gun.

“Liam, thanks for getting those things off of us.”

“I'm sorry I brought them down here. I didn't know you'd be
here.”

Jason laughed as he ran. “Yeah, we didn't plan this very
well, did we? But we did OK.”

He stopped and surveyed the runners behind. Liam was tempted to
turn around, too, as he knew the pair of survivors would soon be
overcome, but Victoria seemed to sense his thoughts. She kept her arm
on his and continued to pull him.

He looked at her. “You think I was going to stop, don't
you?” Even though it was true, he thought it was worth asking.

“I know you pretty well, now. It doesn't come naturally to
let someone go. I expected you to go back there and beat those
zombies with the butt of your gun.” She laughed, but it was
forced.

“Yeah, I thought about it. But I can't save someone who
won't try to save themselves.”

They ran in silence for many minutes, Liam was lost in own
thoughts when Jason ran by at a slightly faster pace.

“I need to get ahead and see how my people are doing.”

“We'll take of things back here,” Lana replied.

The next hour was a blur for Liam. Every ten minutes or so he
would pass another survivor who had reached the end of their
endurance. Most simply laid down to wait for the end. One put himself
in a small side tunnel, armed to the teeth. Liam thought his plan was
pretty good, except that the further they ran the shallower the
drainage became. Instead of two hundred feet across, it was now
scarcely fifty and had little depth. They could almost see into the
nearby houses as they ran along. Each time they shot, a zombie or two
would wander along to investigate. Then they would naturally find
their way into the storm sewer waterway. He would run out of bullets
before the number of zombies reached zero.

As if that's ever gonna happen.

Also, more runners had joined the pursuit the further into the
system they got. There was no longer a chain link fence along the
edge. Anyone could walk right in. Or run.

By the time they reached the end of the open-air portion of the
river, dusk had fallen. The massive waterway was now just an
industrial-sized storm drain that ended at the gaping maw of three
huge tunnels. They'd have to continue by walking underground.

Jason stood next to the left tunnel.

As Liam walked up, he panted wildly. There'd been plenty of water
along the way, but almost no one was willing to drink from the sewer.
The smell alone was enough to dissuade him, but the odd coloration of
the water backed his reasoning.

He leaned on Victoria, or she leaned on him. He didn't care.

“This way, guys. We're almost there. Just another mile.”

Liam didn't say anything, nor did Victoria.

He thought he heard Jason lament some of his people took the wrong
tunnel, but he couldn't be sure. His mom led them into the darkness.
She had the foresight to bring a small light. Or maybe it was on her
rifle. It didn't matter.

His head was spinning madly as the howling behind them began.

Ahead, encouragement from the race spectators.

I can do it, dad.

Liam woke up in bed. More like a cot. It took him a few minutes to
get his bearings, understand he was inside a huge circus-sized tent,
and sit up to get his first look.

Rows and rows of oversized cots were filled with the sick and
injured. A few were strapped in, suggesting they'd been bitten by
zombies or were otherwise possibly infected. If the staff running the
place knew they were infected, they would have taken them out and
terminated them before they could pass the communicable disease via
their teeth. He was thankful he wasn't under any restraints.

Most of the patients he recognized, by sight anyway, as being from
his group. Jason and his Polar Bears. They stood out by their ragged
clothing and gaunt features. Most were sound asleep, despite the
general noise within the confined space of the tent.

He'd been in such a tent before. Back at Elk Meadow—the tent
where he witnessed the elderly Bart get deliberately infected so the
medical team could watch how it affected him. That elicited a ripple
of fear, but he took comfort that there were so many people of such
different ages that this couldn't possibly be the same situation.