Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Siren Songs (28 page)

It wasn't something he wanted to admit, but the
escapees weren't exactly friendly, in the end. They had volunteered
to be there—maybe they resented a young boy coming along and
tipping the apple cart? It was plausible Hayes caught up with them,
and maybe gave them all a cold beverage while he interrogated them to
learn where he and Grandma had gone. They could at least confirm
Grandma was alive. That part rang true.

“Mr. Lee, I would feel bad if something
happened and you didn't know this. They might be coming for my
grandma and me. If they thought we were still alive it's possible
they're once again trying to track us down. I honestly don't know why
we're so important to them. We've been tangling with Hayes almost
back to when the sirens went off. Unfortunately, some of our fellow
escapees know we crossed the highway in this direction. It's only
natural we would end up here. We should leave.”

“I appreciate the offer. I really do. You
show a lot of bravery in saying that, and I'm honored to meet someone
who would go to such lengths to take care of his family. You're
exactly the kind of young man we need here. You've done the Boy
Scouts proud. Now, I hope you have comfortable shoes. We have to do
some running.”

Liam was wearing his old running shoes—he
saved his better pairs for track meets and long runs—but they
were still serviceable. Of course they were covered with dried blood
and their original color was hidden underneath the road grime of the
last week.

“Where are we going? How will we move
Grandma?”

“Just you and I. We'll leave her here for
now, but I promise we'll be back in time to take care of her. Right
now I want to take you to the camp leaders so you can share your
story with them, and they can make the decision on what to do next.
Since these people present a threat to us all, we have to make sure
the leaders are involved.”

“What do
you
think should happen?”

“We should hide you guys, of course. We
aren't just going to hand you over.”

He seemed to dwell on that for a moment.

“I have to inform the leaders. But if for
some reason they decide to do something silly—like turn you
guys in—I promise I will personally help get you guys out of
camp before that happens.”

“Are you saying you don't trust the
leaders?”

“I trust them. But they're a team of
civilian leaders working under extreme conditions. Not all of them
are cut out for the tough decisions necessary to run a camp of this
size, with these plaguers lurking all around us. Some of them might
see the arrival of military units as a return of authority. Look, I'm
not trying to scare you. I want you to have the lay of the land. I'm
in this to help you.” Mr. Lee turned around and started
jogging, giving a wave for Liam to follow.

He didn't know what to say. So he started after
him. They ran back through their new little cluster of tents,
informed Drew and the others where they were going and that they'd be
right back, and then began a fast jog over to the administration
building.

2

The camp headquarters was bustling with activity.
People were running in and out in droves, presumably to get advice
and instructions from the camp leaders. Mr. Lee explained the Scouts
had divided up several tasks to different committees, and each
committee was located in this central building. It made it easy to
find answers, and it kept a lot of runners busy zipping all over the
camp, but it seemed to work efficiently.

They walked in on the ground floor and Liam was
disappointed to see how many people were inside.

“The leaders are against the far wall.
Follow me.” Mr. Lee snaked through the crowd, unconcerned about
queue protocols. Even though there were dozens of people lined up in
front of the table where the leaders positioned themselves, he walked
Liam right up to it. He got the attention of one of the leaders—an
older gray-haired man with a Boy Scout hat but no other uniform
accoutrement—and motioned for him to lean over the table. He
whispered something, and the man then went to each of the others on
the committee with a quiet message. They all left the table to go up
some steps to the second level of the small building.

The last leader to leave spoke up. “Sorry,
folks. We had something come up and need to put our heads together.
We'll be back as soon as we can.” He then pointed to Mr. Lee
and Liam. “You two please come upstairs.”

Everyone in line seemed disappointed at the delay,
but no one made any snide comments at this turn of events.

The upstairs was the complete opposite of the
lower level. Peaceful. Calm. Unoccupied.

There were four men and two women on the
leadership team. Most were retirement age, and appeared healthy and
active. One man appeared to be old enough to have been an escapee
from Elk Meadow, but he still looked fit. A couple had full uniforms.
Most had pieces of their uniforms, as if they arrived here and had to
borrow them.

“Lee, what's happening out there?” It
was one of the women, though it was unclear if anyone outranked the
others.

“Everyone, meet Liam. He's a Boy Scout who
found his way here with his 104-year-old grandma this morning. They
came across the north hill...”

He took five minutes to explain everything he knew
about Liam's journey, the reason he was in the government camp, and
why Hayes and his team might be looking for them. Liam filled in any
gaps, and answered whatever questions he could.

Just as Mr. Lee predicted, their first reaction
was of hope. They thought the government was coming to restore order.
A younger leader joined explained. “I appreciate your
situation, Liam, but I have a hard time believing these government
people would hurt any of us. Maybe we could get them to provide some
food and water once they know we're here. Surely there can't be
bigger groups of survivors in the area. They have to help us, right?”

The oldest man seemed to support his reasoning.
“Back when I lived in California we'd get those earthquakes and
it would tear things up something awful. Lots of people were turned
out of their homes, and we'd all go to shelters and get our three
squares a day until our neighborhoods were re-opened. They did that
after Hurricane Katrina too. Wind and water knocks everything down.
Government picks it all back up. The scale of this is bigger, but
they'll be along to help us. They always come through in the end.”

This wasn't going the way Liam had hoped. He had
made it clear the government had killed his girlfriend, kidnapped his
grandma, and forced him into a glorified prison camp.

Another of the male leaders seemed to hedge. “I'm
willing to believe you Liam. No one would make up a story like that.
But I just can't believe the entire government is in on it. Maybe the
trucks heading our way are a different group—the good guys—come
here to help?”

Liam was exasperated, and wanted to snap back, but
held his tongue. His whole life was based on the reinforcement of the
idea the government could always be counted on to make things worse.
They always brought problems, and never solutions. His dad even had a
plaque to commemorate government incompetence! Why were these people
not seeing it? Even the plague itself was testament to the inability
of those in charge to protect its citizens. That right there should
be proof enough.

“We'll have to talk it over, but my
recommendation would be to wait and see what they want and then
reconvene once we have more information.” That was from the guy
with only his Scout hat as his uniform.

Liam took it as his cue. “Look. You guys
have no reason to believe me, but everything I've seen over the past
week suggests the government as we knew it is gone. Down at the Arch
I saw pretty much the entire St. Louis PD destroyed. On our way south
we witnessed the destruction of the Arnold Police Department, along
with the pillaging of the whole town of Arnold. If the police from
those two jurisdictions are gone forever, how many other police units
have suffered similar fates? Every book I've ever read about the
Zombie Apocalypse says law and order will never come back after
something this big.”

He'd said the wrong thing. He knew it the moment
it left his tongue.

The chuckles spelled it out for him, but hat-guy
put the exclamation on it.

“Kid, this isn't one of your stories. This
isn't
the
Apocalypse, zombie or otherwise. There are just a
lot of sick people out there and it has overwhelmed social services.
Everything will come back, just give it time. All we have to do is
sit tight and hope the plague doesn't overrun this camp, too.”

Liam felt his hackles rising.

“Do you even know what a zombie looks like?
'Cause I've been hip deep in their ranks. I've seen them up close and
I've killed scores of them.” Maybe a slight exaggeration. “They
aren't people with a cold. They aren't people with Ebola, Extra
Ebola, or whatever. They're people who have died and gotten back up.
Call them plaguers, zombies, sickos—it doesn't matter. Things
are much more serious than you seem to understand.”

Mr. Lee put his hand on his shoulder, signifying
he'd said enough. “Thank you, Liam.” Then, to the others
he said, “I move we help Liam and his grandma hide in the woods
while these strangers are at our front gate. If they want to search
the place, let them. This will protect the camp from being accused of
harboring anyone, and it will help a boy and his grandmother from
being taken again as captives. I think we all win.”

The others considered the motion; the old-timer
brought it to a vote.

“Everyone who wishes to protect these folks
by helping them hide, raise your hands.”

It was unanimous. Even Mr. Lee had his hand up.

Liam was surprised to see he'd been talking to a
member of the council the whole time.

3

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was on the
council before we went in there. I felt it had to appear authentic
and I didn't want you to think it was a slam dunk. They needed to
hear from you instead of just from me.”

“No problem. I'm glad they're helping, but I
really do think they have some wrong impressions about what's going
on in the wider world. Your valley here is a nice place, but if they
don't prepare for the worst it's going to come in and bite them hard.
All books aside, it's a lesson I've learned myself walking from the
city out to the suburbs.”

“You might be surprised if I told you what
my role is here in the camp. Security. I've walked the perimeter with
my patrols. I've seen plaguers and zombies. I know what you say is
true.”

“Then why didn't you tell them?”

“I've been telling them for days. But you
saw them. Old. Soft. Civilians. They're good Scout leaders, but they
aren't good Scouts, if that makes any sense? They arrived here at the
beginning, before it got really bad. I won't say they've been hiding,
but none of them have been out in the woods to see what's been going
on. They look out their windows and see us all cooperating, singing
songs, and figure we've done just fine for ourselves in holding
things together. They're waiting for the outside to return to
normal.”

“So, they have their heads in the sand?”

Mr. Lee only smiled.

They stopped in one of the rooms which contained
medical supplies. Stacked against one wall were a few dozen poles
with canvas wrapped around them. Liam had no idea what they were
until Mr. Lee pulled one out and opened it. “We'll use this
stretcher to get your grandma out into the woods. You remember the
tower from your time here? That will be the perfect place to wait
this out.”

Liam was surprised by his statement.

“You're going with us?”

“Me and several of my friends. We Scouts
have to stick together. Plus, it will be a good training exercise for
one of the perimeter teams I'm building. Unlike council, I'm
preparing for the worst.”

“Zombies?”

“They're bad, no doubt about it, but they're
far from the worst. Unless they start running, they're easy to catch
and kill with the right tools and with the right people defending us.
No, my fears are the thieves, murderers, looters, and other humans up
to no good.”

“You aren't going to stop them with pointy
sticks.”

“No. I'd love to get some more guns, but
until then we do what we can.”

They started jogging back to the camp. Mr. Lee was
big enough to carry the stretcher over one shoulder.

As they ran Liam realized the Gatling had gone
silent. Had they run out of ammo? Were they even now at the front
gate? He knew it wasn't logical, but he was worried Hayes was already
taking Grandma from her tent.

When they arrived, Grandma was safely where he'd
left her. “Grandma, wake up!”

It took a few minutes to rouse her and get her
ready for their walk. Mr. Lee went back out to gather his team. He
also sent runners to find people and items he needed. They were going
to meet at Liam's tent as fast as they could organize. The efficiency
impressed Liam greatly.

If the whole world was made of Boy Scouts,
would we be in this mess at all?

He wanted to give the boys their due, but he
remembered the leaders were less than he'd hoped. Maybe leaders were
just normal people, doing average work. A select few rose to any
challenge, making them shine, like Mr. Lee. If Liam had run into any
of the other six on the committee when they'd first arrived, he
thought—perhaps a bit unfairly—he and Grandma would
already be moving on to somewhere new. Once again luck was his
friend.

They were standing around with Drew and a few
younger boys, explaining what it was they were about to do.

“Can I come with you, Liam?” Drew was
one Scout Liam would be happy to have along. Liam wondered what he
was like in a fight. That was quickly becoming the gold standard for
making friends in the world of zombies. Can this person help me
survive or will he or she get me killed? Every book on zombies—movies
too—showed how the wrong mix of people would be the death of
any group. Liam called the phenomenon “Being THAT guy.”
The guy that falls asleep while on watch. The girl that refuses to
believe her boyfriend has really changed. The man who loses his mind
and shoots people instead of zombies. “THAT guy” was
always the first chink in the armor leading to the downfall of any
group of survivors.