Read Online Sirens of the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 2): Siren Songs by E.E. Isherwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: E.E. Isherwood
Tags: Zombies
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humanity
below. If Duchesne wanted this crowd to turn around he'd have to
allow Liam “the frightened kid” time to call for his dad.
Similarly, Liam would have to speak in a way that wouldn't be
threatening to the very driven agent.
“You have sixty seconds to hail your dad,” the agent
said in a very quiet voice as he passed him the microphone for the
large speakers. “Thank you, sir. Thank you!”
Just a dumb kid here, uhhhh yep.
Liam pinged the mic once as he stood right up against the guard
railing again. No crates to stand on this time. “Hello! I'm
talking to my dad out there in the crowd. I saw him just a moment ago
way back there,” he pointed over the crowd emphatically as if
the father were real.
“Dad if you can hear me I want you to know these are some
good men and women up here. These police officers are here to help
you survive this crisis. They have taken an oath to serve and
protect you. You can count on them to be good and true to their oath.
A good man, Captain Osborne of the Missouri Highway Patrol,
sacrificed his life to save me and many others as we escaped the
infected in downtown St. Louis.” Liam didn't know what he was
doing, but he wanted to let the police officers know he was on their
side and that they should be on the side of the crowd. It would
matter because of what he was going to say next.
“But even good men can make bad decisions. You can't turn
around. Not ever! I'll tell you why if you give me a chance!”
Liam knew the agent would be fuming, and looking back at him he
wasn't disappointed. Would the agent decide to cut him off now? Shoot
him in the back? Seemed a bit too dramatic. Better to ask forgiveness
than permission. He continued—
“Here's what you need to know dad. This roadblock was set up
to turn you all back, but there's no help back there. None. No army
units coming to help. No FEMA hospitals. No—” He felt
himself drifting, unsure.
Hey look, you're talking to all these people. Not scared are
you?
Liam recovered with a quote. Ironically it was one taught to him
by his real father, not the fictional one standing out in the great
crowd below him. “A great President once said we shouldn't ask
what our country could do for us, but what we could do for our
country. I say we need to get back to basics and simply ask, what can
we do for ourselves!” The crowd seemed to be warming. “We're
American's, dammit! We do what's right even when the chips are down.
Even when society itself is collapsing. That's what you always taught
me, dad.”
Some cheers and affirmation from the crowd now.
“Look around you. Look what you've been through. Do you know
where you're going? We're all lost right now. The people on this
bridge are lost same as you. Which is why we have to stick together
if we have any chance to ride this thing out.”
For the life of him Liam couldn't think of what to say next. He
wasn't a speechwriter. He could see the crowd was reacting positively
to his message, but what was actionable? Platitudes were nice, but if
they couldn't go home, where could they go? He had new appreciation
for why the councilman was running from this problem at top speed.
So, he once again said the best thing he could, hoping it was
enough.
“Dad, four days ago I walked out my front door with Grandma
Marty—she's 104 years old by the way for all you who don't know
her—and we went downtown because traffic was stopped on the
highways heading south. The situation at the Arch was...horrible.”
Liam noticed the crowd was listening in utter silence. “Tens of
thousands of people were protected by the desperate acts of heroism
by soldiers and police. But there were also people like you, just
average everyday people, manning the barricades against
the—infected.” Liam hesitated to use the Z-word, as it
tended to scare people. “We survived for a time. But then the
bad people came. No, not the infected. I'm talking about bad humans.
Looters. Criminals. Hoodlums. They
below. If Duchesne wanted this crowd to turn around he'd have to
allow Liam “the frightened kid” time to call for his dad.
Similarly, Liam would have to speak in a way that wouldn't be
threatening to the very driven agent.
“You have sixty seconds to hail your dad,” the agent
said in a very quiet voice as he passed him the microphone for the
large speakers. “Thank you, sir. Thank you!”
Just a dumb kid here, uhhhh yep.
Liam pinged the mic once as he stood right up against the guard
railing again. No crates to stand on this time. “Hello! I'm
talking to my dad out there in the crowd. I saw him just a moment ago
way back there,” he pointed over the crowd emphatically as if
the father were real.
“Dad if you can hear me I want you to know these are some
good men and women up here. These police officers are here to help
you survive this crisis. They have taken an oath to serve and
protect you. You can count on them to be good and true to their oath.
A good man, Captain Osborne of the Missouri Highway Patrol,
sacrificed his life to save me and many others as we escaped the
infected in downtown St. Louis.” Liam didn't know what he was
doing, but he wanted to let the police officers know he was on their
side and that they should be on the side of the crowd. It would
matter because of what he was going to say next.
“But even good men can make bad decisions. You can't turn
around. Not ever! I'll tell you why if you give me a chance!”
Liam knew the agent would be fuming, and looking back at him he
wasn't disappointed. Would the agent decide to cut him off now? Shoot
him in the back? Seemed a bit too dramatic. Better to ask forgiveness
than permission. He continued—
“Here's what you need to know dad. This roadblock was set up
to turn you all back, but there's no help back there. None. No army
units coming to help. No FEMA hospitals. No—” He felt
himself drifting, unsure.
Hey look, you're talking to all these people. Not scared are
you?
Liam recovered with a quote. Ironically it was one taught to him
by his real father, not the fictional one standing out in the great
crowd below him. “A great President once said we shouldn't ask
what our country could do for us, but what we could do for our
country. I say we need to get back to basics and simply ask, what can
we do for ourselves!” The crowd seemed to be warming. “We're
American's, dammit! We do what's right even when the chips are down.
Even when society itself is collapsing. That's what you always taught
me, dad.”
Some cheers and affirmation from the crowd now.
“Look around you. Look what you've been through. Do you know
where you're going? We're all lost right now. The people on this
bridge are lost same as you. Which is why we have to stick together
if we have any chance to ride this thing out.”
For the life of him Liam couldn't think of what to say next. He
wasn't a speechwriter. He could see the crowd was reacting positively
to his message, but what was actionable? Platitudes were nice, but if
they couldn't go home, where could they go? He had new appreciation
for why the councilman was running from this problem at top speed.
So, he once again said the best thing he could, hoping it was
enough.
“Dad, four days ago I walked out my front door with Grandma
Marty—she's 104 years old by the way for all you who don't know
her—and we went downtown because traffic was stopped on the
highways heading south. The situation at the Arch was...horrible.”
Liam noticed the crowd was listening in utter silence. “Tens of
thousands of people were protected by the desperate acts of heroism
by soldiers and police. But there were also people like you, just
average everyday people, manning the barricades against
the—infected.” Liam hesitated to use the Z-word, as it
tended to scare people. “We survived for a time. But then the
bad people came. No, not the infected. I'm talking about bad humans.
Looters. Criminals. Hoodlums. They
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