Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  As they walked, formality gave way to the reality of the situation. “Who in God’s name chose this piece of land for a quarantine camp? I’d like to strangle the piece of shit.”

  “A politician who thought he was clever. Personally, I hope the zombies ate him alive.”

  “What about Command?”

  “We’ve been receiving conflicting reports and orders all day.” Lieutenant Nathan shook his head, his lip curled in disgust. “The President and his cronies have fled the coop. They’re holed up in the hills with half the army and a boatload of supplies. They don’t give a crap about us.”

  “Do you know what happened at Thaba Tshwane?”

  “Overrun.”

  Breytenbach swore. “So it’s true. If they fell…”

  “Then we don’t stand a chance,” Lieutenant Nathan finished.

  ***

  Hours later, Breytenbach was exhausted and ready to crash. He’d been assigned a one-man tent and stretcher and very much looked forward to some rest.

  All day long he’d been occupied with Lieutenant Nathan, checking the supplies and defenses. The young man, thrown into the deep end after his commander died, was eager to pick Breytenbach’s brain. At least, he recognized experience when he saw it.

  Breytenbach had toured the medical tent and been introduced to Jonathan, the resident doctor. The poor guy was hopelessly overworked and ill-equipped, besieged by countless sick people. The entire situation was depressing.

  The promise he’d made to Lieutenant Nathan to stay and help, weighed heavily on him. It was a huge responsibility. Yet, where else would they go? Thaba Tshwane was gone, and the chopper didn’t have sufficient fuel to reach any of the other bases.

  His initial reservations about staying fell away when he saw the plight of the people. The hungry faces, the sunken eyes, and the crying children. How could he say no to that? So he’d agreed to stay, as had his team. I just hope to God we can make a difference.

  Before he could sleep, he had one last job to do. His weary legs carried him to the tent set aside for the orphaned children. He pushed the flap open and stepped inside.

  Ordered chaos met his eyes. Cots and cribs lined the walls while playpens and toys dotted the floor. Babies cried, toddlers screamed, and children complained while their caretakers did their best to soothe them. The air was warm, carrying the scents of baby powder underlined with poop, and he wrinkled his nose at the weird combination.

  He made his way through the tent, searching for a familiar face but found none. He saw neither Zelda nor Linda and was about to give up when a voice called out.

  “Captain! Over here.”

  He craned his head and saw a slim hand waving at him. It was Mannuru, calling him over to Samantha’s crib. She wore a clean babygrow and sucked on a bottle, one hand fisted in a soft blanket. He felt an involuntary smile grow on his face and said, “She looks well. Happy.”

  “Yes,” Mannuru replied, brushing a soft hand over Sam’s head. “She’s strong.”

  “Just like her mother,” Breytenbach whispered.

  “Would you like to hold her?”

  “Yes, yes I would.” Breytenbach was surprised to find it was true and held out his hands eagerly. Little Samantha had latched onto his heart with all her might, and he felt more and more like her adoptive father.

  Mannuru picked the baby up and handed her to Breytenbach. “Here.”

  He took her with care, scared he might hurt her. Mannuru helped him, and after a time, he got the hang of it. As he cradled her to his chest, he inhaled her scent. That wonderful warm, milky smell unique to all infants. Warmth blossomed in his chest and his resolve hardened. I will never let anything hurt you. I promise.

  Chapter 10 - Logan

  What followed the rescue of Elise and her children turned out to be a strangely peaceful period, one that passed in a blur of hard work interspersed with constant raids.

  Elise took over the running of their home base. Under her enterprising hand, the dining and sitting rooms expanded to become a common area where everyone gathered to have their meals. She also cataloged and stored the incoming supplies, turned the offices into bedrooms, and expanded the kitchen.

  The children appeared to be adjusting. Anne was a sweet child and often helped her mother with the chores, while the two boys became very close. They tried hard to act like adults and took it upon themselves to patrol the fence and keep watch.

  As for Logan and Max, they went out each day, raiding the shops and houses in the area and eradicating any infected in the vicinity. After a week had passed, they convened in the dining room to discuss their progress.

  Elise was putting the final touches on supper, and Logan’s stomach rumbled as the delicious smells drifted through the room. “God, I’m starving.”

  “You’re always hungry, Logan. What’s new?” Max said.

  “Do you blame me with Elise’s cooking?”

  “Nope. Can’t say I do.”

  “Right. So where are we sitting at?” Logan asked.

  “Well, we’ve cleared the houses in the vicinity. We’ve erected roadblocks to discourage wandering infected, strung barbed wire all around the fence, and built up a small stockpile of guns and ammunition. What am I missing here?”

  “We’ve gathered a fair amount of supplies too. Food, blankets, clothes, that sort of thing,” Logan added.

  “We need more medicine, though, and guns,” Max replied.

  “That will have to wait. We have a more pressing problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The fence. It’s not strong enough. If a horde of those things comes through, they’ll plow right through it. They don’t feel a thing.”

  “That’s true, but what happens if a breach occurs? We should reinforce the doors and windows too,” Max suggested.

  “Don’t forget the electricity. It’s bound to go out any day now. We need a generator and a lot of fuel.”

  Max sighed, looking down at his chest, and Logan took the opportunity to study him. His uniform wasn’t quite so pristine anymore, sporting stains and tears in several places. His face boasted the beginnings of a wiry beard, and his hands were cut and blistered from stringing the barbed wire.

  At first, Logan had thought little of the clean-cut soldier boy Max represented, but after a week of brutal labor and the threat of constant death, his respect for the man had grown. It was one reason he hadn’t left yet. That, and the fact that with Elise and the kids there, Max needed him.

  “Okay, first things first, where can we get a generator and lots of fuel?” Logan asked.

  “The industrial area,” Max said. “It’s not far from here.”

  “Can we risk it?”

  “I think we can. The virus hit this town on a weekend while the industrial shops were closed. It should be safe enough.”

  “We might find other supplies too,” Logan mused.

  “Such as?”

  “A truck would be nice, some tools, building material, a tank to store water in.”

  “Sounds like we’ve got a plan. First thing tomorrow?”

  “Yup.”

  “Do you think we—”

  “That’s enough talk, boys,” Elise interrupted. “Time for dinner.”

  She placed plates heaped high with mashed potatoes, gravy, fried mushrooms, and steaks in front of each.

  “Have you washed your hands?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” they answered in concert.

  “Good. I don’t want zombie blood at the dinner table.”

  “Where are the kids?” Logan asked.

  “I sent them off to bed with an early supper. I wanted to talk to you two in private.” She placed a large salad in the middle of the table before seating herself.

  “About what?” Logan crammed a huge forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

  “I want to know what the situation is.”

  “Max, that’s your department,” Logan said. “You’re the leader here.”

 
Max raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t protest, turning instead to Elise. “What do you want to know, exactly?”

  “First, how’s it looking out there?”

  “We haven’t gone out far enough to know. We’re sticking close to home, clearing the area and gathering supplies.”

  “Speaking of which, we’re running out of fresh vegetables.” She indicated the salad. “That’s the last of the lettuce. I’m preserving and freezing as much as I can, but I need more Consol bottles, vinegar, and salt.”

  “All right,” Max nodded. “Think we could hit a store soon, Logan?”

  “Maybe. If we’re real careful.” Logan jammed another forkful into his mouth. His plate was emptying at a rapid pace, so he scooped up a double helping of salad.

  “You could look for seeds too. Then I can start a garden out back,” Elise added.

  “All right, but tomorrow we’re hitting the industrial area first. We need generators and fuel. The electricity’s not gonna last,” Max said.

  “What about water? Once the power goes out, the water will stop too,” Elise said.

  “I didn’t even think of that,” Max replied, looking sheepish.

  “It’s a problem,” Logan agreed. “A big one.”

  “Elise, get the boys to fill up every available container we’ve got with water tomorrow. Meantime, Logan and I will get a generator and fuel and building material for the fence,” Max said.

  “The fence? What’s wrong with the fence?”

  “It’s not strong enough, but I don’t know how we’re going to fortify it with just the two of us,” Max leaned back in his chair. “There’s too much to do.”

  “Why don’t you use cars?” Elise asked.

  Max and Logan stared at her, unsure what she meant.

  “You know, take abandoned cars and park them along the inside of the fence.”

  “That might work,” Max said.

  “It could. It would strengthen the fence and obstruct the view of the inside of the grounds,” Logan added.

  They spent another hour hashing over the challenges they faced before seeking their beds.

  The next morning, fortified with a solid breakfast, Logan and Max left. They drove in one of the Nyalas—not taking any chances. With its armored plating and bulletproof windows, there wasn’t much that could stop a Nyala. Nothing undead anyway. They pulled to a stop in front of an auto repair shop.

  “Want to try it?” Logan asked.

  “Sure, why not,” Max answered as he got out.

  It was a chilly morning with a stiff breeze that cut through their clothes. Lifting his head, Logan sniffed the wind. “It’s going to rain.”

  “You can smell rain?”

  “No, but I can see the storm clouds on the horizon over there,” Logan pointed, and Max grinned at this rare joke from him.

  They moved fast and without making a sound. After a week of working together, they’d built up a rapport and were quite efficient. They’d walk forward in stages, clearing room after room. At times, they’d pause and make a noise, a knock or a shout, to see if any infected responded. It lessened the chances of being surprised and gave them a fighting chance. One they sorely needed.

  The auto repair shop proved to have a lot of useful tools, car spares, and oil, but no fuel or generator so Logan pointed at an engineering shop across the street. “Let’s try over there.”

  The doors were locked. Logan tried to pry open the security gates with a crowbar, but they were impossible to break into. Eyeing the fence, he said, “Give me a boost?”

  Balancing on Max’s back, he peered over and studied the yard. In the far corner, he spotted movement. “I see something.”

  After a moment more, Max eased him to the ground. “There’s one infected in the yard, probably a security guard.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  They climbed over and approached the lone zombie. The ex-security guard stood with his back to them, moaning plaintively at something on the other side of the fence. Creeping up, Logan dispatched him with a swift blow.

  He bent down to wrench free his ax and search for the shop keys when Max whistled. “Would you look at that.”

  Logan looked up, through the chain-link fence and into the next yard. A large warehouse dominated the grounds, surrounded by scraggly grass and patches of gravel. Attached by a chain to a tree, lay a large dog. Or at least, it used to be big. Now it was a mere shadow of its former self.

  “Ah, shit,” Logan swore. At the sound of their voices, the dog moved its head, gazing at them with glazed eyes. It was still alive.

  “That’s what he was after,” Max said, nudging the dead security guard with his foot. “What do we do now?”

  “We try to save it,” Logan replied.

  They used the guard’s keys to get inside and search the premises. They found a small truck, big enough to load everything they needed, a generator, a tank of fuel, and bolt cutters.

  Filling a bowl with water, they headed back to the fence. After making a hole, Logan slipped through while Max stood guard. The dog was emaciated, but it had enough strength left to drink the water. Empty bowls next to the dog explained how it had managed to last so long. Probably drank rainwater too.

  Logan rubbed its head, “There you go, boy. Drink up. We’re taking you home.” He looked at Max. “Let’s load him into the truck with the rest of the stuff and go back. We’ve got what we need.”

  “Yeah, let’s not push our luck. The next place might not be so easy to hit,” Max cautioned. “We can always come back.”

  An hour later, they returned home to an astonished Elise and three excited kids.

  “Can we keep him?“ Thembiso begged with his dark brown eyes fixed on the dog.

  “Yes, we can keep him. If he lives,” Logan replied.

  “Oh, he’ll live. I’ll make sure of that,” Elise replied. “What he needs is good nourishing food. Thembiso, warm up a bowl of leftover soup. Peter, get him more water. Anne, why don’t you make him a nice, warm bed?”

  Satisfied that the dog was in good hands, Logan and Max returned to their work. They unloaded their booty and spent the next few hours setting up the generator.

  “We should get a backup generator,” Max said. “And more fuel. Water too.”

  “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Logan asked with a sigh, thinking of all the stuff they still needed while there was only the two of them to do the work.

  “I didn’t want to say anything, but yes, we are.” Max sighed. “What if a horde of those things attack? None of the others can fight, and scavenging is pretty dangerous. How long before one of us gets killed?”

  “I know. It’s depressing.”

  They trudged back inside and sat down at a table. The kids chattered, excited by the new addition to their home while Elise dished up their food. As he ate, Logan looked around at the smiling faces that surrounded him. It was warm and comforting. Like home.

  While the atmosphere helped to lift his spirits, it also drove home the fact that he was needed. Despite his natural inclinations to go it alone, he couldn’t leave. Not while so many lives depended on him.

  The days passed, filled with ceaseless activity and hard work. The dog survived, his ribs filling out under Elise’s care. They reinforced the doors and windows while Max taught Elise and the boys how to shoot. He tried to show Anne too, but she cried every time he put a gun in her hands. Then, on the morning of the fifteenth day, something unexpected happened.

  Logan woke up with a start, ears pricked for danger. He was certain he’d heard a noise. Getting up, he got dressed and looked out the window through a slit in the wooden boards. It was still dark, but the promise of dawn glimmered on the horizon. A hoarse cry drew his attention once more, and he was sure it was that which had woken him up earlier. He spotted movement at the gate. People.

  Logan moved fast, waking up both Max and Elise. “Elise, stay here and guard the children.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide in her pale face.
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  Together, Max and Logan approached the gate, theirs guns at the ready. A small group of people huddled in front of it, and they slowed, approaching with caution.

  Logan nodded to Max. “Go ahead.”

  “Who’s there?” Max cried, taking the lead.

  A shadow detached itself from the group. “Are you survivors?” The voice belonged to an older man with iron-gray hair. “Please, let us in. I’m begging you.”

  “Who are you?” Max asked while Logan scanned the group for any signs of danger.

  “Just people. Survivors running from those things.”

  Max didn’t reply, a look of uncertainty chasing across his face.

  To Logan, they looked like a pitiful bunch. Hardly a threat. He looked at Max and shrugged. “Your call. They look okay to me.”

  “Please, we mean no harm. We’ve got a pregnant lady here and a girl who’s wounded. If we stay out here, we’ll die,” the older man added, desperation lacing his voice.

  Max bobbed his head. “All right. Let’s give them a chance.”

  Chapter 11 - Elise

  Elise watched the sad little group troop into her home with a mixture of apprehension and fear. Who were they? What were they doing here? More importantly, what did they want?

  These questions and more milled through her mind as she struggled to keep the two boys and the over-excited Buzz under control. She needn’t worry about Anne, though. Her daughter stood behind her with both hands latched onto her shirt-tail.

  Elise’s eyes traveled over the members of the group. An older man with a lined face and husky build was in charge, hustling everyone inside like a mother hen with chicks.

  Two young men, brothers by the looks of it, half-carried a red-headed girl. Sweat beaded her forehead, and her skin had a waxen sheen to it that boded ill. Elise spotted a wound on her arm, seeping blood. That‘ll need attention.

  A dark-haired girl stuck to them like a shadow, looking around her with a deep mistrust which Elise put down to fear. Lastly came another man, middle-aged, tall and slim, supporting a pregnant woman, probably his wife. Her bulging belly spoke of an advanced pregnancy, and it was here that Elise’s attention fixated. The poor woman was in labor, arousing her motherly instincts.