Zombies vs Polar Bears: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 5 (19 page)

“Who's coming back?” Liam inquired, for what he felt
was the fifth time.

Hans looked at him sadly. “You've broken my window, pushed
me down, pointed guns at me, stolen my supplies, threatened to take
me away, and now you want me to answer your questions? You are worse
than the SS back in Germany.”

His father watched lots of history shows on television, though
Liam only tuned in when there was something “cool”
happening, such as tank battles or recreations of battles from
history. That's why he knew the SS were Hitler's elite troops—and
the most feared. They were the guys killing partisans and throwing
the switches on the ovens of the Holocaust. To be compared to them
was insane. The man
was
crazy, after all.

“You have us all wrong you old coot. We're the Polar Bears.
We're the Patriot Snowball. We are the absolute furthest thing from
the SS you can possibly imagine.”

It was the first time he described himself as a patriot, even
though he'd been caucusing with them since he was old enough to
understand the principles his dad supported. Those of freedom and
individuality. Those were aligned completely against the fascist and
statist views of people like Hans. Liam figured he'd have his whole
life to explore how much he wanted to be a part of the same political
views as his father, but the zombies forced his hand.

Securing all this as booty for the group would allow them to
continue to operate outside the reach of the government convoy now
crossing from West Virginia to Kentucky. That was more than 99.9% of
America could claim right now. If they trampled on the rights of one
dubiously sane man, was it really that bad?

He was still sorting his feelings as they walked Hans along the
tree-lined street toward the hospital.

5

As they walked, Victoria spoke to Hans. “How come you don't
share your stockpile with those people?” She nodded to the
fields nearby, still packed with people.

“Why should I? I spent my whole life preparing. They didn't
walk out their door with a damned thing. What do I owe them?”

Liam had faced a similar dilemma back in his own home when another
group of refugees flooded his suburban street. His dad had the
foresight to stockpile food and ammunition in their basement, and
they all decided—including his father—not to pass out the
food to those outside. Back then, their reasoning was that it would
only feed the crowd for one night, or it would feed his own family
for weeks or months. The good of the many or the good of the few?
They'd chosen the good of the few. Was this the same scenario?

He didn't see the difference, but said nothing. If there was an
inequity here, Victoria or his mom would surely call it out.

“You don't feel sorry for them?” Victoria continued.

“No. Bear with me as I explain.” He leaned on Liam and
Victoria as they walked him. Much like they walked Grandma days ago.
It all felt oddly wrong to him.

“Once you live through calamity, you never forget it. This
is why people who survived the Great Depression seemed to save their
money no matter how good the economy got. They knew it could always
get worse. Sadly, most of those people were so frugal they didn't
spend their money to prepare for
this
situation.” He
moved a little faster than Grandma. His legs were longer, and his
back was a little straighter. Still, he had trouble talking and
walking at the speed they were going.

“People who survived starvation will never let their larder
get down to nothing. People who have had their guns taken away will
never let that happen again. In my case I was the one taking the guns
away,” he laughed, but it carried more sarcasm than humor.
“People who have been wronged can never forget it. That's why I
have to wait for them. They are going to fix things for those of us
that remain.”

He turned to Liam and whispered. “One phone call and I can
have my rescue. Will you let me call? You have a phone, no?”

“Why would you need a rescue? Where would you go?”

Hans didn't seem to like talking about it. Liam realized, too
late, he replied in full volume to the man's whispered plea.

Later, as they walked, Hans finally answered. “They're going
to wipe them all away. Then we can take over.”

The man had talked about Germans, the SS, and the military. He
suspected the man was some Nazi holdover, waiting for his chance to
build a German army or something similarly crazy, but when he asked
the man if he was a closet Nazi he only laughed.

“You are too young to know what I'm talking about. Don't let
it trouble you, my son. You two will be needed to help repopulate the
earth when this is all over. It will turn out well for you.”

This time his face didn't turn red—he didn't think—as
Hans was the second person today to mention having babies with
Victoria. He did look over to her and saw the concern. Something
wasn't right with the guy. It would be the ravings of a madman,
except that he had a fortress full of ammunition and supplies. Either
he was a rich crazy person with a hoarder's attitude, or a rich man
who prepares for the worst. And, apparently, he
knew
the worst
was coming.

Except he's left behind, like us.

He wrestled with all the pieces as they neared the front entrance
of the hospital. For all the chaos inside the park, the roads ringing
the green parts of Forest Park were kept remarkably clear. While he
thought the roads were empty, they came to understand the roads were
used by emergency vehicles and police cars. Several went screaming
by, to somewhere down on the other end of the park.

“I just need to make a call.”

Liam stopped. Victoria and Hans stopped with him. Lana, with no
such burden, walked a few more paces before also stopping. The four
of them huddled on the empty street.

“Hans, you have to tell us. Who are you going to call. I
have a phone right here. Just tell me. Please.” He didn't
really know if the man could say anything that would give him the
confidence to pass his phone to him.

“My family was wealthy.”

So you keep saying!

“In Germany we owned lots of land in Bavaria. Mountains, you
see—”

Liam interrupted. “Is that in the Alps, by chance?”

“Yes. Of course. Not as famous as the vaunted Eagle's Nest
where Hitler took his vacations, but we liked it that way. When the
war ended, we packed away our treasures pilfered from the war effort.
Local officials were eager to help such an esteemed businessman as my
father. The tunnels were used, much like my home is today, to store
everything we'd need if war came again. He wanted my family to
survive, you see. Our fortune bought us the ticket we needed to ride
out any calamity. I carried on his legacy here in America, though we
are now even more wealthy than we were back then. But...wealth means
nothing when you're 105.”

He thought back to his dad's letter. The block-lettering words
populated the crumpled paper that was even now in his pocket—far
from destroyed, as his father requested. But the word “Alps”
resonated.

“Please, sir, who are you going to call.”

“A lifeboat. Maybe you two help me and you can still have
your children, yes?”

Liam searched all around. The looks of his mom and Victoria
mirrored the confusion on his face.

War effort. Germans. Tunnels. It was long shot, but Liam saw a
common thread emerging. A troubling association that would be
terrible, if true.

He ventured to ask his question, though he tried to keep his tone
neutral.

“Mr. Grubmeyer, you said your family owned a ball bearing
factory. I'm curious what the ball bearings were used for.”

Hans looked at him, like he just asked an important question.
“Tanks, my son. Lots and lots of tanks.”

One glance at Victoria and he was sure she was thinking of the
same deep, dark cavern full of vintage tanks.

6

Liam and Victoria were alone. He asked his mom to sit with Hans on
a park bench near the hospital.

“I have an idea, but I don't know if it's smart.”

“Let me hear it,” she replied.

“I think we should let him make his call. I think he's for
real.”

She watched Hans from a short distance away, while he spoke. “Mmm
hmm. Why do you think he didn't call his life boat, or whatever,
until now?”

“Maybe the phones don't work. Maybe he forgot? Who knows.”

He studied her face, but didn't see her usual agreement.

“I don't know. It seems dangerous.” She shifted to
face him. “You know, this is a pretty good place here. I'm even
pretty close to my dorm room.” She'd talked about going back to
her dorm since they'd met. It was step one in her own journey home.
He felt the twinge of jealously he'd felt back then when she
mentioned going home. Like he wanted her to find her own family, but
he didn't want her to leave just yet. It was ludicrous to think she
was going to get home now, especially as a result of checking into
her dorm room, but he couldn't shake the feeling as she warmed
herself to the idea.

“I really could go to my dorm room. Get that change of
clothes I mentioned,” she quietly laughed with him.

“You could get the Bible you were after,” he said
tentatively.

That was a loaded statement. She carried the tiny travel Bible he
had given to her, and that same Bible had literally taken a bullet
for her.

“My parents gave that to me. I wouldn't leave it behind if I
ever went home, but how would I carry it around with me? Can you
imagine how silly it would be to carry a big book when running scared
from those zombies in the sewers?”

Were things getting back to normal? The hospital was
working—supporting the living in the park. He'd just been
inside a veritable supermarket of consumables stockpiled by Mr.
Grubmeyer. The destruction of the zombie plague was outside their
view at that moment. It wasn't hard to imagine the world as it was.
All except for the huge numbers of refugees taking shelter in the
park, but currently they were shielded from most of them by the thick
tree cover in their corner of the greenspace.

“I hope you don't go home.”

“Uh, thanks.” Her curt tone woke him up.

“Oh, no. I don't mean it like that.”

“You want me to stay here and help your family, forever?”
Her arms were on her hips. “How am I supposed to take that? Is
this about going back to my dorm?”

“No, no, no. I shouldn't have said it like that.” He
took a deep breath to think how he wanted to defuse the bomb.

“When we first met, you said you wanted to go back to your
dorm, then get on a plane and go back to Colorado. I can't explain
why I felt it, but I was jealous. Here's this great girl I met under
the worst possible conditions, and she not only gets to fly out of it
all, but she gets to go back to her family. I had so many
commitments.”

They both knew his whole focus of getting Grandma out of the city
was to get to his mom and dad so he could put her in the hands of the
adults.

“I guess I still see your dorm as step one in taking you
away from me.”

“Liam Peters, you are the dumbest boy I've ever met.”
She frowned, but Liam saw a trace of a smile as she turned away and
walked back to his mom.

He ran up as Victoria spoke.

“If we give you a phone, what exactly will happen?”

Hans sat hunched over on the bench. Lana had her hand on his back,
like she'd been patting him. She motioned with her free hand using
her pointer finger. “Just a minute,” it said.

Victoria's face was hard to read. She waited patiently, but didn't
speak.

Finally, Hans was able to respond. “Sorry. I'm a little
winded. I think I've been playing bunker soldier for too many days.”

“What happens when you make your call,” Victoria
repeated.

“If we're lucky, someone will answer the phone. After that,
it all depends on luck.”

“Liam and I don't do well with luck. You are going to tell
me exactly what you expect to happen. If not, so help me, I'll march
you back to your bunker and put you in one of those boxes.”

She kept her eyes on Hans, but she turned slightly. “I'm
sick and tired of being the victim of circumstance in the Zombie
Apocalypse. I was caught out on day one. I was shot on day five. I
lost this tooth on day eight,” she pointed to the gap in her
top row of teeth, “and I crawled out of a soldier's grave on
day six-freaking-teen. Now my
husband
here thinks I'm ready to
pick up and leave him. Dang it, I'm sick of it. This is going my way
or the highway, mister!”

Liam was in shock.

Hans was less perturbed. “Aren't you two a little young to
be married?”

Victoria's eyes burned. She almost said something, then calmly
walked off waving her arms, like she would after a long run to get
blood flowing in them.

“Sir,” he moved closer to him, “we'll make a
deal with you. You can make your call, but you have to give my
friends access to your stockpile.”

“Son, I'll do ya one better. You take me back home, we
forget this little business with the bloodwork, and I'll take you and
your girl with me.”

“I don't know that she'd go with me at this moment,”
he volunteered quietly. His mom's look was neutral.

He'd never seen Victoria so angry. It didn't seem possible she
would leave him, not really, but his lack of experience with
girlfriends could be a multi-volume novel. He could be missing
something very obvious in all this.

“I'll tell you what...” Liam and Hans argued the
terms, though everyone seemed satisfied at the compromise.

Everyone save Victoria. She stood underneath the crooked branches
of a magnolia.

Hans would make the call when they got back to his home. But
before that could happen, he knew what he needed to do to make things
right with his girlfriend.