Zombies Ever After: Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse, Book 6 (44 page)

“Has it been around that long?” Liam asked. "Are
you some kind of alien?"

"Are you?" Al shot back.

"What does that mean?" he replied.

“I'm its caretaker. I've been listening to
this...system...for a long period of non-linear time. It has an
underlying signal that calls out. It
wants
to be discovered.”

“This is weird,” Victoria whispered. “I'm not
sure we're not dead,” she said, without humor.

“This is
life
, Victoria. The things that bring you
together are...life. The sight of a man in uniform. The smell of a
woman's hair. The firm embrace of a boy you favor,” he smirked
at her. “These are the physical links. I'm also talking about
the emotional bonds unique to humans. The timeless sadness of the
loss of a family member. The undying memory of first love. Surviving
trauma and rebuilding a life. The three of you are survivors, no
doubt, but you are good survivors. You are agents of the light. Of
what is right. I think you'd be shocked to know how rare that is.”

Liam's face had to be red.

First love.

He reveled in that statement while looking at the object of that
love. The smell of her hair had been a powerful draw. It was one of
the many exciting memories from their time in her dorm room.
Something he hoped he would never forget.

Yet, something didn't add up. He was a survivor, and survivors
don't take things on faith.

“You speak as if you aren't really here, but how are we
talking to you? If we have access to the computer, can we find out
where you are? Outside of this room.” It seemed as reasonable a
question as one could ask, but he added, “Where are we, for
real?”

“Ah, of course. You naturally want evidence. Doubting
Thomas, as they say.”

He returned a blank look.

“I'll explain it to you if we get out of here,”
Victoria advised with a little humor.

“Humanity has a dangerous edge. To reveal this terminal
would be, by all indications, a death sentence. This is a conundrum
I've been trying to solve for a long, long time. Imagine if arrows
pointed to a secret location, like needles in the desert, and a team
of your scientists arrived to study it. Knowing what you know, do you
think this gift would be shared with others? Would it be preserved?
Or...”

He paused for emphasis.

“Would it be corrupted?”

“It would have to be saved,” Victoria exclaimed. “We
wouldn't destroy something so wonderful,” she said with too
much doubt.

“My friends. The Quantum Virus was designed to make human
beings whole. It could cure all disease. Reverse aging. It would
enable you to live forever. But, scientists stumbled on a weakness in
the design. Instead of letting everyone live forever, they
self-selected the gift for themselves. For the rest of humanity, they
used that weakness to reverse its effects...”

“My God,” Liam replied. “We did this.”

“They stay dead forever,” Marty continued, turning to
Al. “You said these pour souls would stand around until the sun
burned out.”

“There's that precise memory,” Al said with a brief
laugh. “What should have been a gift has been turned into a
curse. Your scientists tinkered, unable to find the source of the
gift, but they've destroyed the wrapping paper.”

Liam sighed. A part of him wished he were dead. He sought escape
from the responsibilities he'd been socked under. Caring for Grandma.
Protecting her from a smorgasbord of scientists—

“Hayes knows!” he blurted.

A second later.

“But he's dead. Dang.”

“I bet Elsa knows. She seems to have her fingers in
everything,” Victoria added.

"No. Not Elsa. It's Grandma Rose. That's the reason Elsa is
after her. This has always been about her. Killing my family was
supposed to draw her out. Hell, it almost did—she called me on
my way to Cairo."

"What kind of stuff is your grandma into?" Victoria
asked.

"I have no idea. I never imagined she'd be into computers and
viruses, though."

"Be careful, Liam. I won't say if you're right or wrong, but
I will say finding her will be hazardous to you. If any one of you
falls, the access to the others will fall, too. Then, there's no
telling who could gain access to this network."

He looked at Grandma anew. Keeping her alive was already
difficult—now it was off the chain. She could die at any moment
of "old age."

Al walked to the door out of the small room. The three of them
were left at the ancient computer screen, which had reverted to a
single line of code.

“You can ask the computer anything you want, but I have to
warn you. The three of you are linked together. You have been given a
gift—very close to what was intended when this system was
designed. But it will protect itself, too. If people like Elsa
capture and try to use you...well, I can't promise it will allow
that.” He paused in thought, then seemed to want to wrap things
up. “Marty, my dear. Our time is at an end. I shall truly miss
you.”

“Well, OK. I guess I'll miss you. I miss the real Al dearly.
Never doubt that,” she said seriously.

“I'm sorry once more for the innocent deception. I'm just a
memory in this place. My real form is much less interesting. Someday
I hope to show you.”

He faded out with a flicker, like an old TV set turning off.

Sensing time was a factor, Liam hit the keyboard. The first
question was easy, and he keyed it in with the speed of an
experienced keyboarder. While he waited for a reply, he keyed in a
second question, hoping it could handle two threads at once. There
were a million questions he wanted to ask it, but only two were
necessary at that moment.

“Ah ha!” he shouted as the answers popped up.

“Liam. Grandma's gone.”

5

He woke up on the rocky shoreline of a muddy river. The sun beat
down on him and the buzz of grasshoppers was the only sound on the
air. There was a hand on his right arm as he lay there—he could
feel it twitch.

A zombie!

He rolled away so the hand fell from him, and he was relieved it
was only Victoria. She was in a deep sleep. Her hands and arms were
twitching slightly like a puppy trying to run in a dream. He found
the word he liked to describe it: cute. With effort he committed the
sight to memory, intending to use it for his book.

The book I haven't even started.

With a light touch, he shook her arm to rouse her. In moments she
raised her head from her rocky patch. To his amazement, they were
soaking wet but weren't as dirty as he expected after a dip in the
muddy river. Victoria's hairdo got the worst of it, as her headband
was gone and her hair went looking for it.

“Can you believe this is all real?” he started. “Wait.
You saw all that, right? The computer room? The waterfall? The ocean
and stars?”

She studied him. He felt giddy when their eyes met. So many
possibilities!

“Um, what are you talking about?” she turned to look
at the bridge. The barge was gone. Only a small piece of the towboat
was visible underneath the broken girders. As if it sank and came to
a rest on the bottom. The cargo barge—containing all the people
in the beds—must have gone to the bottom as well. The old green
bridge was missing one of its Missouri-side spans. As best he could
tell, the ICBM came down through the trusses of the bridge, struck
the concrete highway, then continued through to impact their boat.
Since they were still alive, he assumed he and Victoria were thrown
from the barge when it struck.

“We saw Grandma?” he said weakly.

For many moments he watched her with a sinking thought he'd been
dreaming. But the side of her mouth turned into a tiny smile...then
exploded into one.

“Got ya!”

“Are you kidding me?” he said with mock anger. He
shuffled over to her and they rolled together on the rocks and mud of
the bank. It was unbridled relief after so much suffering and death,
even though the thoughts of his mom and dad killed him. This—human
contact and life—was what he needed more than anything in those
seconds. Whatever came next would have to wait.

They wrestled for a minute until Victoria pinned him while sitting
on his stomach. The rocks hurt his back, but he ignored the pain.

“So we're pair-bonded, huh?” she said with a coy
smile. “The funky computer man said so.”

“I, uh, I, um.”

“Wow, you're sooo eloquent.”

He saw the kiss coming. She'd telegraphed it, and added smoke
signals to be sure.

As she leaned down, something struck her on the head, and she
bounced backward.

“Liam Peters,” a female voice said without emotion.

He hopped up to a crouch. Elsa—still in her tight-fitting
uniform—had wet hair, too. Like she'd been in the river. It was
hard to tell as her defensive skin wicked water. Her boots were
soggy, though.

“Where's my daughter?”

He needed a moment to think, but his response flowed easily once
he saw her.

“Little Debbie? I have no
freaking
clue. You nuked
her!”

He turned to tend to Victoria, heedless of what Elsa had to say.

“You were supposed to get her to safety. It's the whole
reason I let you go.”

“You've hurt my girlfriend you stupid bi—”

A gun pointed in his direction.

“You recognize this?”

It was an old-looking handgun, but he knew it.

“That's mine.”

“I found this down on the St. Louis riverfront. Isn't that
funny? Your mom knew it. I had her scared shitless on the way here
that I had killed you and taken this for myself. I admit, that felt
good.”

Elsa's laugh rubbed him raw, like a cat's tongue abusing his skin.

At the water's edge, with Victoria out cold but safe in his arms,
he was once again faced with the prospect of losing her. He was
almost indifferent to the dangers. So many, and all the time.

Though he was prone to jumping into things he didn't understand,
this time, he knew what to do.

“God, if you've got one more for me...”

He picked up a rock of just the right size.

“You've already lost, Elsa. You. Your allies. Whatever you
think is going to happen now, there are men and women across America
willing to stand up and stop it. My mom and dad both did.”

“Ha! They're floating to the Gulf of Mexico. Who else ya
got?”

“My Grandma unlocked the Quantum Virus. I've seen what it
is.” He'd seen a million movies with the next line. “If
you kill me, you'll never find out.”

“Hmm, that
is
interesting. Hayes said this
possibility existed. He was 'working on it.' I didn't believe him, of
course.”

She looked at him, long and hard. Finally, she put her gun into a
small pocket of her suit.

That was his moment.

6

The rock left his hand as she was looking down at her side to tend
to her firearm.

On second glance, she was keying something on her arm…

The rock's trajectory was perfect, and he timed it perfectly. His
guardian angel was back! Or thousands of sessions throwing ball with
Dad... It struck her above her temple. The impact startled her and
she dropped the gun down the rock-strewn bank. Liam was already on
the move.

Ignore the gun.

He saw the whole thing like he was in slow motion. If he went for
the gun, he risked her getting there first or her jumping on him as
he bent down to retrieve it. He would have done the same thing if
their roles were reversed. The only chance he had was to dive on her
and put her down. She seemed like a dainty woman. With a gash in her
head.

He launched himself, intending to knock her off her feet. When he
struck her suit, he was surprised that it seemed to deflect him. She
went tumbling, but so did he.

A rock, pick one up!

He searched for a rock big enough to throw at her while she was on
her back, but he was a few steps from anything useful. At a loss, he
grabbed a handful of dry sand and threw it at her face.

She rolled over, shouting obscenities. He gained some satisfaction
at her distress, but she lived up to her reputation by rolling to the
gun while pretending to be out of commission.

She shrieked in anger and raised it. He had just enough time to
get next to her before it went off. The sand affected her aim. He
used the time to throw himself onto her gun arm—hoping to force
her to drop it.

Once again he slipped on the strange suit, but his hands reached
the gun—a normal gun—and together they held it as they
rolled around on the rock, sand, and dirt.

“I'm going to kill you, kid. You and your girly are dead.”

“Victoria, help!” He had to hope she was coming to.

The gun went off as they struggled to control it. She was much
stronger than he was. A fact he was quickly coming to appreciate.

“Ooh, you're a slippy one. And I'm the one wearing the
suit,” she laughed, though she also sounded winded.

She tried to punch him in the jaw, but her aim was sloppy in the
tussle.

The distraction of it made him lose his footing—he was
between being on his knees and getting to his feet—and began to
slip on the uneven surface. The gun was still in his grasp, but he
was soon going to be at a severe disadvantage. If she maintained
herself somewhat upright, he would be underneath her in moments.

He felt the rocks below his back. She made it to the crouching
stance and had plenty of leverage to yank the gun from him.

No!

But simple physics beat him. Her strength helped end it that much
faster.

“Nice knowing ya,” she said as she brought the gun to
bear.

A flash behind her.

A loud grunt.

Someone brought a big rock down on Elsa's head...but in the
fluidity of the battle, she'd moved, so the rock fell on her neck and
shoulder. She replied with a wail and let go of the gun. She
recovered from the surprise in seconds. It was enough time to see
Victoria—blood on her head—hunched over, searching for
another rock.