Zombies vs Polar Bears: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 5 (6 page)

He and Victoria showed his mom to the covered cab while he started
the twin outboard motors. The sense of deja vu overwhelmed him as he
and Victoria once more took to the river to go find Grandma. Last
time they were going to St. Louis. Now, to Cairo. The patterns of the
Zombie Apocalypse were hard to explain.

“Liam, are you sure you can use this boat?”

He shared a knowing look with Victoria as she rooted around inside
the cabin. “Yeah mom, we know the owner.” He placed his
gun and his backpack next to the captain's chair.

“And this owner said it was OK to use his boat?” She
gave him a motherly scowl.

“Ehh. It's kind of a gray area.”

The gruff captain didn't abandon his boat precisely, but Liam
wasn't thinking straight after surviving his time underground. He
hadn't lost any sleep over it, though he felt just a tinge of guilt
now that his mom was shining a light on the issue.

His mom gave both kids a disapproving look.

“What? I promise once we get to Grandma I'll make sure it
gets back to him.” He felt confident because his plan was to
drop his mom in Cairo. He and Victoria would need the boat to get
back to St. Louis.

“Ah ha!” Victoria pulled out a bag from a compartment
next to the passenger's seat. “He was holding out on us.”
With a flourish she dumped about a dozen energy bars on the floor.
They were the same ones he'd seen on many of the people arriving at
Camp Hope. They were given to them at another distribution center for
refugees. Somewhere there were probably pallets of them.

Maybe they are in a storage room next to those tanks.

Like so much of the collapse, things happened so fast there was no
time for proper planning. Wherever the energy bars came from, they
were probably limited to the stocks they had on hand. In the weeks
before the sirens the transportation network had ground to a halt,
and getting that many bars to a refugee camp once the sirens went off
was impossible. The highways had become parking lots.

He wolfed one down without a further thought about its origin. The
women did the same. They gulped water from the bottles they'd brought
and for a few minutes he was perfectly content with the modern
equivalent of a full belly. The soft lap of water under the hull of
the boat, the early morning air, and the shade of the trees above,
made him think of taking a nap. Someday...

The boat coughed noisily before he throttled up and got them
moving downriver. It was going to be at least an hour before they
reached the Mississippi River, where they'd turn right and go south
to the southern tip of Illinois. He hoped the fuel would last that
long, but if it didn't, they could continue downriver with the
current. It should be a pleasant journey compared to the disastrous
ride upriver.

He scanned the shore for threats. First one side, then the other,
until he felt his mom's eyes on him.

“You know, your dad constantly told me it should have been
him out there rescuing Grandma and doing these things you've been
doing. I told him his biggest contribution was giving you the common
sense training you needed to survive. In that regard, your father was
out there doing those things with you. He'll always be with you as
long as you remember his lessons.” She squirmed on the
uncomfortable chair. “But that didn't make him feel much better
about you being out here while he was in that building.”

“Believe me, there were lots of times I wanted to find you
and dad and just hand over Grandma and be done with it. But the
longer I stayed out there—out here—the more I realized
there was nowhere safe for anyone. The safest place we've seen is
Cairo, Illinois, and I predicted it would only last two weeks.”
Cairo jogged his memory.

“Oh, if anyone asks, I'm seventeen now.”

His mom gave Victoria a sideways smile. “They grow up so
fast.” She looked back to Liam. “But that doesn't change
who you are. People are still going to see you as a young boy. I
can't help but see you as my little boy. I'll probably see you that
way when you have gray hair,” she added with a friendly giggle.

“Well, people have to stop. None of the books I've read on
zombies have survivors complaining about a person's age. As long as
they can kill zombies, who cares?”

“You'll understand someday. Parents care. We always want
what comes next to be better than what we had. When people see kids
today, they know that's no longer possible. I saw it in the eyes of
parents every day back at camp. My parents worried about getting me a
college education. For you, and you Victoria, I worry that I can find
a strong wall and some fresh ammo. That won't change whether you are
seventeen or sixteen. Me? I just want to enjoy our time together, no
matter what age you pretend to be. Happy birthday by the way.”

“Thanks. Victoria already gave me my birthday surprise.”

“Oh, she did?” Her tone was haughty, with just a touch
of mirth.

He looked at Victoria to see her cheeks blush, and he wondered
what he'd said wrong.

His mom continued to watch him with a surprised look on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“A surprise, Liam? Is that what young people call it today?”

He put it all together. He'd insinuated something more
affectionate between himself and Victoria.

“Oh man, no. I meant she gave me a birthday kiss with one to
grow on. It was a real surprise after weeks of terrorizing scares. I
really appreciated it.”

“Ohh.” His mom and Victoria both burst out in
laughter, though he couldn't quite muster his own laugh. Sure it was
a wonderful kiss, but it was from an earlier era. A time before he
knew his dad was dead.

Once again, he focused on the journey. Scanning the shore and
managing the boat distracted him from the loss.

Twenty minutes later, they passed below a big highway bridge. On a
prior journey he'd felt threatened by the hanging nets under the
nearby railroad bridge but now the powerful boat sped right under the
bridges. When he turned around to check his progress, he saw another
boat bouncing on the waves just behind him.

One of the men pointed a rifle right at him.

He looked very familiar.

2

The man used his free hand to motion for Liam to stop his boat.

“We've got company,” he said matter-of-factly.

His mom turned behind and went for her rifle, but Liam stopped
her. “Mom, they could have shot us at any time. They still can.
I'm going to stop and see what they want. You keep the guns in here
and I'll talk to them.”

“Absolutely not.
I'll
talk to them. You keep the guns
in here.”

He wanted to argue with her, but there wasn't time. He
decelerated, then stopped the boat in the middle of the narrow
channel. The engines idled in case they needed to make a hasty exit.
The other boat came right up and an older man jumped on board
Lucy's
Football
. He wore the same worn button down shirt he had on days
ago.

“Give me my GD boat back! Drop those weapons.”

The captain had found them. Liam didn't bother staying in the
cabin, nor did he bring his gun with him. It was the captain's boat,
after all.

“Mom, I know him. He's, uh, the owner.”

“Not the owner. This expensive piece of government equipment
belongs to the United States Corps of Engineers. But I'm responsible
for it.” Then, as if it needed to be said. “I'm taking it
back.” He walked into the pilot's cabin.

“Fine. We're probably going to the same spot anyway. Cairo.”

“Oh no. That's not how it works. You ship-stealing kids and
your soccer mom friend here are going to get out right here and now.
We've been tracking you since yesterday. We saw you take the boat
from up on the cliffs. Only I didn't know it was you, per se. But now
it makes perfect sense. Trick us into thinking you were going down
into the pit, then steal the boat. A nice little racket you got
there.”

The blonde haired, middle aged man in the other boat was someone
Liam recognized, too. Jason Hawkes. He'd been told over the secure
text link down in the mine that he should find Mr. Hawkes and that he
could trust him. That he knew his father. Did that also mean he knew
his mother?

He carefully observed Jason as he tied off his boat and boarded
the
Football
. If he knew his mother, he was very smart about
hiding it. His mom didn't show any recognition either.

What's happening to me? I don't trust my own mother?

He snapped himself out of it.

“Fine. Can you take my mom? She had no part in stealing the
boat.”

“Liam, no. I'll stay with you.”

“No! Someone has to get back to Grandma and watch over her.
If it isn't us, then it has to be you.”

“Mr. Hawkes, I believe you knew my father. Jerry Peters?
Will you please take my mother downriver with you?”

It was a desperate play, but the captain looked ready to run
aground and push him onto shore. They were already closing the short
distance to the bank.

“Jerry Peters?” He seemed to study his feet. “I
don't recall anyone by that name. Where did he work?”

“We don't have time to play hard to get, sir. My dad is
dead. He died of an infection to his leg.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, kid. But I don't know of any Jerry
Peters.”

The hull of the boat gently struck the rocky shore. The captain
made good on his threat to put them off the boat. All that was left
was the old heave ho. Or maybe a plank.

“There you go, kids. Now get out. I'll take one of these
guns as payment for my trouble.” He'd grabbed one of his dad's
AKs, which stoked a deep resentment inside Liam. That was his dad's
gun.

The captain tossed the other two guns on shore. At least he'd left
them with something to defend themselves. Plus they weren't all that
far from Camp Hope. But, this was possibly the last boat capable of
making it back to Grandma.

Victoria and his mom were already ashore. The gun pointed at his
back suggested he join them.

He decided to take one last crack at the man.

“I received a message in the mine. It was from someone
watching over me there. She said I needed to escape the mine and
report to you. That you knew my dad. That you were part of the
Patriot Snowball.” That last part was a white lie, but it all
added up. Who else would his dad work with? Most definitely not the
NIS.

His heart stopped beating for a moment.

Could he?

Impossible, or just improbable?

“Patriot Snowball? You hear that Cap'n? These folks think
we're part of some rebellious group of traitors against fellow
Americans. What do you say to that?”

The captain laughed. Liam didn't know why. Blue accused him of
running guns up and down the river for the Patriots. Surely he wasn't
doing that for the government. They didn't need the help.

But what if they were with the NIS? Did
they
need the help?

He felt the barrel of the gun in his back. Things had taken a turn
toward the serious. His mom was edging her way toward her gun. He
could see where this could potentially go.

The NIS? It was incredibly far-fetched.

“OK, not Patriots then. Are you with the National Internal
Security?”

The captain, behind him, whispered in his ear. “You know, if
anyone knows that secret they are ordered by NIS field guides to kill
that person on sight.”

Oh God. This is it.

His mom was close to her gun, but there's no way she could get to
it while the barrel of the captain's gun was drilling into his own
back.

He tried to think it through.

Maybe if he dived sideways…

“Lucky for you, you had it right the first time. I'm just
jackin' with ya, anyway. You seem to be wound tighter than a ship's
anchor.”

The gun barrel dropped.

By some miracle, his mom had reached down and aimed the gun toward
Jason. He responded by raising his hands.

“We're all friends here. We're all Polar Bears,” the
captain said in a comforting voice.

3

“Sorry about that, Liam. I had to be sure you weren't a spy
for the NIS. They have an uncanny ability to be everywhere and see
everything.”

“So you don't know my mom?”

“Nope. Though I wish I did.” Jason held his hand out
to help Lana back in the boat—but he froze.

Liam peered out to where the man was looking, but saw nothing.

“What is—”

“Shh.”

He made as if to pull the girls into the boat, but everyone
stopped.

A strong smell enveloped them. It arrived on a slight breeze. To
Liam it reminded him of pancakes and syrup, but it also contained a
sour smell, like roots of tree.

The smell made his head spin. He fell to one knee, unsure what
caused it. His mom retched, while Jason took several steps backward,
toward the main cabin. Liam heard a splash of water.

“Victoria? Where are you?” After he'd said it, he
couldn't remember if he said it out loud, or merely thought it.
Victoria was still on the shore, he decided.

With
it
.

He could see the zombie standing behind a nearby cottonwood tree.
He was hard to make out because he wore camouflage BDUs. Liam had
gotten better about identifying branches of service—the zombie
was an ex-Marine.

But Liam couldn't see straight.

The zombie took a few steps in his direction, as if testing the
terrain. Waiting for a gunshot, or a sword blade. When none came, it
continued to move closer.

“Have to run.” He spoke in a calm tone to Jason, who
was crumpled on the floor near the cabin.

The zombie took its time. Liam, through the haze in his brain,
accepted he was looking at something new. And, as if to prove it, the
zombie began climbing a large tree. The branches hung low over the
boat. It was a creative, if unnecessary, way for it to board the
vessel.