Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  Jacques returned with the ax, and Morgan explained the situation to him. “You cover me while I chop through the chain. The girls will run to the truck with me protecting the rear.”

  “And Angie?” he asked.

  “She can drive. Have her ready to go as soon as we get there.”

  “All right, I’ll tell her.” He snorted. “She’ll bitch like she always does, but she’ll do it.”

  Morgan waited until he took up his position and fingered the ax, examining the chain. It wasn’t very thick, and she thought a solid blow would do the trick.

  “Pull back on the chain. Hold it tight against the trunk.“ She pointed in the direction of the Nyala. “Once it’s done, run. Don’t stop and don’t look back. I’ll cover you.”

  Not willing to waste any more time, Morgan positioned herself for the blow and swung. The blade cut through the chain, reverberating like a thunderclap.

  “Go! Hurry!” Morgan cried, helping the girls to their feet.

  Lisa took the lead, supporting the more fragile Michelle while urging her on. Morgan’s heart thumped in her chest while she stared anxiously at the cottages.

  A door burst open, and a shirtless man stumbled out. He paused, fumbling for the gun at his belt. He spotted the fleeing girls and shouted, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

  Morgan pulled out her gun and took a shot at him. She missed, the bullet going wide. The girls were moving way to slow for her liking, their bodies weakened and malnourished.

  The shirtless man got his gun to bear, aiming the muzzle in their direction. A rifle report boomed, and a red flower blossomed on his chest. He fell with a cry, and Morgan took the opportunity to run.

  More men tumbled out of the huts. A bullet clipped the bark next to her face, showering her with splinters. She ducked as another shot struck the ground, sending up a spray of dirt. “Shit.”

  Whirling, she took a knee and pulled the trigger. Her shots went wild. Grabbing hold of the gun with both hands, she steadied her aim. A knee stuck out from behind a wall, and she took a chance at hitting the small target. The limb exploded in a shower of blood and bone before disappearing from view. “Gotcha.”

  Jacques laid down a blanket of fire. One shooter fell back, hit in the chest while Morgan ran, scrambling over tree roots. The rolling edge of the ridge was near. She saw Lisa and Michelle drop out of sight, running toward the Nyala.

  A sharp blow from behind sent her flying forward. She hit the ground, scraping her chin and eating dirt. Her leg felt numb, refusing her commands to move. I’ve been shot.

  “Morgan, move!” Jacques screamed.

  Bullets pattered around her like rain. She crawled forward on her elbows, snaking through the trees. Jacques scrambled over, yanking her to her feet. “Let’s go!”

  Holding onto him, she ran as fast as she could, limping on her bad leg. The rumble of the Nyala’s engine reached them as Angie fired it up, spurring her on.

  They tumbled into the back, yelling. Angie floored the gas, and Morgan nearly rolled out again. Jacques grabbed her with one hand, leaning over to slam the door shut. He fell back as a bullet hit the glass in front of his face. He screamed, and for some reason, Morgan found that funny. “Relax. It’s bulletproof.”

  He shot her an annoyed look before his eyes dropped to her leg. “You’ve been shot.”

  “No shit.” She glanced down at the wound for the first time and blanched. A small hole in the back of her thigh ballooned to a ragged exit wound in the front. Blood pumped out in a steady stream, and she felt nauseated.

  “We need to stop the bleeding,” Jacques said.

  He pulled off his shirt and ripped the belt from his pants. Folding the material into a pad, he strapped it over the bullet holes with the belt, cinching it tight.

  The bleeding slowed to a trickle. After a moment, Morgan lay back, closing her eyes as she tried to ride out the pain. It radiated through her leg in a red-hot blaze. She registered the moment they reached the tar road as the ride smoothed out, and the truck sped up.

  “The girls?” she asked.

  “In front, with Angie.”

  “Thank God. I was scared they wouldn’t make it.”

  “They’re all right.”

  “No signs of pursuit?”

  “None yet.”

  “Good,” she replied.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked after a minute.

  “Fuck, yes,” she answered, not mincing words.

  “You’re nothing like your mom, you know that?”

  “I know. She’s a lady, and that’s something I’ll never be.”

  He laughed, “Try to rest. We’ll be home soon.”

  She didn’t bother to answer, saving her strength instead. The blood loss and heat combined to make her drowsy, and she drifted off. What felt like hours later, she blinked when Jacques shook her arm. “We’re here.”

  With his help, she struggled upright and scooted out through the door. A small crowd had gathered, eager for news. When they saw the girls and Morgan’s leg, a collective gasp went up.

  “Morgan!” her mother cried, rushing forward.

  Her knees buckled as her feet hit the ground. A pair of arms caught her, scooping her up, and gray eyes stared down into hers. Their intense regard sent a bolt of electricity through her spine. Logan.

  A new voice, one she was unfamiliar with, joined the rest. “Make way, people. Let me help her. I’m a nurse.”

  Nurse? When did we get a nurse?

  Warm blood flowed down her leg, the makeshift pad soaked through. Her head spun, and she grinned at Logan. “My hero.”

  She had the vague thought she was being silly but didn’t care. Everything feels so strange.

  “She’s losing a lot of blood.”

  “Bring her in. We need to get her stitched up. Do you have a first aid kit? Sutures?”

  “I’ll get it.”

  The disembodied voices floated around her while she clung to Logan. To her, they were meaningless, sparking only vague interest. Her feet swung as he carried her inside to lay her down on a bed. A sharp prick in her arm burned for a moment, then it all went black.

  She came back to the light after a time, once more listening to voices discuss her and the girls they’d saved. That reminded her, and she managed to say, “Lisa, Michelle.”

  Her mother’s warm voice washed over her. “They’re fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry; we’re taking good care of them.”

  “Okay.” She sank back into the cushions, relieved. “My leg?”

  “It’s fine,” Julianne assured. “Hannah patched you up like a pro.”

  Morgan blinked, staring at the small crowd surrounding her bed. It gratified her to see so many worried faces. She wondered briefly who Hannah was, but the thought faded.

  “Jacques told us what happened,” Max said.

  “Did he tell you about Jackie?”

  “Who’s Jackie?”

  “We have to go back,” she said. “There’s another girl.”

  “Another one?” Max asked.

  “Ask Lisa. She’ll tell you.”

  “That poor girl. We have to get her, Max,” Julianne said.

  A grim silence fell as looks were exchanged. Finally, Max replied. “Get some rest, sis. I’ll speak to Lisa, and we’ll discuss it later.”

  “But…”

  “Hush, sweetheart. Sleep. We’ll take care of it, I promise.”

  Morgan allowed her mother’s reassurances to soothe her, and she slipped away, falling into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 17 - Logan

  The meeting was convened two days later. Everyone gathered in the common room, summoned by Max. The atmosphere buzzed with tension. By now, everyone had heard what happened.

  Logan studied the crowd through lidded eyes. It was a social gathering, with people forming groups much like herds of animals did. Unlike animals, though, he struggled to make sense of their motivations. He’d never been a people person.

  Some were easy to fig
ure out. Like the newcomers from the pharmacy: Dave, intelligent but fussy; Hannah, the matronly type; Liezel, shy and bookish; Rosa, bubbly and outgoing. They sat together in a corner, sticking together in an environment they knew little about. This he understood.

  There were the two rescued girls, Lisa and Michelle. They had chosen not to attend the meeting at all, and this too, he understood.

  Then there was Max and his family, the nucleus around which the camp revolved. They stuck like glue, supporting each other without fail, their collected strength outweighing any weaknesses apart. It was Julianne who kept them together, the matriarch of the clan.

  Admiration stirred in his breast, increasing when his eyes fell on the alluring form of Morgan. She sat in the corner, her bad leg propped up on a chair. Hannah’s surgery had been successful, and after two days, she was walking around on crutches.

  What stumped him utterly, though, was the way Armand buzzed around Morgan like an insect. She didn’t return his slavish adoration, treating him like a younger brother. At the same time, the boy was too stupid to see what was right in front of his eyes. Angie. That girl is smitten. Why won’t he give her a chance?

  Max cleared his throat. “You all know why we’re here. Morgan’s team rescued two girls from captivity. According to them, there’s another girl still being held captive. We’re here to decide whether or not to go back for her. Any thoughts?”

  “We have to go back,” Jacques said.

  “I agree,” Julianne said.

  “So do I,” Morgan added.

  “You understand what will happen if we go back,” Max warned. “It’ll be a fight to the death.”

  “We can’t let them get away with what they’ve done,” Jacques protested.

  “Those could be our sisters, daughters or wives,” Joseph agreed, looking at his wife, Tumi.

  “I understand how you feel, but I want to make sure you fully understand the consequences,” Max insisted. “We’ve killed, yes. Infected, zombies, the undead. Not living people.”

  “We have no choice, Max. People like that can’t be reasoned with. If we don’t stop them now, they’ll do worse,” Julianne said. “Can you live with yourself knowing there are more girls out there being raped and tortured?”

  “No, I can’t,” Max said. “But we all have to agree on this,”

  “We can’t just kill them,” Rosa protested, shocked.

  “What do you propose?” Max asked. “Leave them?”

  “I don’t know. Killing them just seems so barbaric.”

  “People like that are barbaric,” Elise said, “and the police no longer exist to punish them. It’s up to us now.”

  Rosa shook her head, uncertainty warring with disgust, “I suppose.”

  “This is stupid,” Angie interjected. “Not that I give a flying fuck, but why must we go back? Leave them.”

  “What about the other girl?” Jacques asked. “The one we left behind?”

  “What about her?” Angie shrugged. “She’s not one of us. I say we look out for ourselves.”

  “How can you say that?” Jacques asked, outraged.

  Pandemonium broke out as people fought, each shouting out their own opinion.

  Logan shook his head. This was why he preferred to live alone. People were so stupid, and all this fighting was a waste of time. He decided to do something before the argument could escalate and stood up. “The time for convention and niceties has gone. These people are a threat. They live in our territory, and who’s to say they won’t come after us next?”

  Silence fell.

  “If we don’t deal with them now, we’ll have to deal with them later, and then it might be on their terms. It’s kill or be killed.”

  “He’s right. This could become a real problem for us later on,” Max said.

  After another lengthy discussion, everyone reached a consensus. The enemy group had to be removed, even if it meant killing. Some, like Rosa, did not wholeheartedly agree but understood the necessity, at least.

  Max, Joseph, Jacques, and Big Ben were chosen to go. According to Jacques, there were only six left in the enemy group, one of whom had been shot in the knee and incapacitated. Max was confident it could be done with no losses on their side if they were smart. The rest would stay, guarding their home base.

  After the meeting, people drifted off one by one, either to their beds or their duties. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Logan headed outside to take up his shift. Morgan was there ahead of him, determined to do her share despite being injured.

  “Hey there,” she greeted. “Up for some guard duty?”

  “With you? Always.”

  “Don’t joke.”

  He climbed up the ladder on the wall then reached down a hand and hauled her up. She gave a little squeak of surprise as her feet left the air. By the time he set her down, she was blushing furiously.

  “It’s no joke,” he said. “You know how I feel.”

  Mumbling something unintelligible, she hobbled off to the nearest tower. She flopped down on a chair and stretched her leg out with a muffled groan. He offered no sympathy. She wouldn’t want it.

  Deciding to give her time to think over his words, he made a slow circuit of the walls. The night air was fresh, and the silence was soothing as he enjoyed the break away from humanity. Most of his adult years had been spent out in the bush, hunting, foraging, and game ranging. A loner by nature, he found people tiresome. All except one.

  Spying Morgan’s silhouette, he grinned. Being around people had its perks. She stood guard like a sentinel, her bad leg balanced on the toes and a spear gripped in her right hand. Her hair waved in the breeze like a flag.

  He came to a stop next to her, and together they surveyed the terrain. After a few minutes, she turned those beguiling eyes on him and smiled. “You know, I never thought it would take the end of the world to make me feel truly alive again.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “There’s something about being in danger and living on the edge that makes me excited, eager to meet the challenge,” she added.

  “I’m familiar with the feeling,” he replied. “Out in the bush, the game changes in a second. A lion can charge, a snake can strike. Life hangs in the balance. It makes a person aware.”

  “I get that.”

  Logan took her hand in his, entangling their fingers. “Morgan,” he said, waiting.

  Her lips quivered as she looked down at their hands. “I don’t know if I can do this, Logan. It’s too soon.”

  “It’s not too soon.”

  “Will this last?” She looked down, lashes sweeping her cheeks. “I need to know this will last.”

  “It will, but once you do this, there’s no going back. This is it, Morgan. There won’t ever be another for me. Or you.”

  She shuddered, understanding dawning in her eyes.

  Logan knew what he was asking. He’d found his woman, and once he had her, he had no intention of letting her go. She either had to go all in, surrender her soul, or walk away. It would be an all-consuming relationship, one of passion and possession.

  Morgan hesitated, then stood on tip-toe, offering her lips. Logan lowered his head and claimed what she gave. He was neither gentle nor hesitant. He kissed her roughly, with all the fervor he possessed. When the kiss ended, she swayed. He pulled her close, nestled into his body. It felt right.

  Together they stood, neither of them speaking, and watched the moon rise higher in the cobalt sky. It was a moment Logan would remember forever. “Happy?”

  “Happy,” she replied.

  The minutes passed, and he relaxed as he breathed in her scent. A whiff of a different scent interfered with his happy moment, though. The smell of rot and decay. Death had arrived.

  In his arms, Morgan stiffened as she noticed them too. “Duty calls.”

  Gripping her spear, she hobbled over to the corner. A group of zombies clawed at the fence, pushing at the barrier with insistent groans.

  “Be c
areful,” Logan said, eyeing her leg.

  She shrugged and flashed him a grin. “I’ll be fine.”

  Her spear flashed down with unerring accuracy. The point buried itself deep in the eye socket. With a twist to scramble the brains and a yank, she ripped it free, her victim collapsing in a heap. “See? Piece of cake.”

  Logan joined her, and the next few seconds passed in a blur of blood, bone, and brain matter. It was going so well, what happened next came as a complete surprise.

  Morgan’s spear flashed down and embedded itself in the cheek instead of penetrating the eye socket. Despite her best efforts, she could not pull it free. Her wounded leg didn’t allow for a firm foothold. The zombie dragged its head back with a growl. Teetering on the edge, Morgan screamed, “Logan!”

  Logan raced to her side, reaching out a hand just as she tumbled over. “No!”

  Morgan landed with a thump on her back, grunting as the breath left her lungs in a rush. She held on to the spear, keeping the impaled zombie at bay. Two more closed in.

  Without thinking, Logan threw himself off the wall and onto the nearest. Its spine crackled, the brittle bone breaking with an audible snap. Logan smashed its face into the dirt and scrambled over, trying to head off the second zombie aiming for Morgan.

  He dove forward, tackling it around the waist. They crashed to the ground. The zombie thrashed wildly as it snapped at Logan. It was a lot fresher than the others, intact and possessing herculean strength.

  Logan grappled with it, rage fueling his actions. He pushed the infected back by the neck and swung his rifle up, bashing it on the temple. The blow glanced off. He didn’t stop, hitting it over and over until a muffled pop told him the skull had collapsed.

  Logan turned his head away just in time to avoid a spray of blood and brains in the face. Beneath him, the zombie stilled, ‘unlife’ leaving its body at last.

  Morgan cried out in pain, grabbing his attention. His insides froze. He rushed over, too scared to look. Somehow she had kept hold of the spear with the zombie on the other end, but the crippled zombie had gone after her. She kicked at it with her good leg, but it had a death grip on her foot. It levered itself higher up, biting down on her shin.