Logan delivered a stunning kick to its head that would have made his old rugby coach proud and sent it flying. He ended its existence with a few decisive hits with the but of his rifle before turning back to Morgan.
She got up, red-faced with anger. She kicked the legs out from underneath the remaining zombie. Wrenching the spear free, she delivered the killing blow. Staggering back, she let her weapon clatter to the ground. “Crap!”
“Your leg,” Logan said, his voice devoid of emotion.
Morgan bent down and examined her shin. Her hand came away shiny with saliva, and Logan’s heart dropped.
“Yuck,” she shuddered, wiping her hand on the ground. She looked up at him with a half-smile. “I’ll be okay. The boots. There’s a reason I wear them all the time.”
“Oh, thank God. Don’t ever do that again.” He slumped with relief and pointed at the wall. “Let’s get back before more arrive. We can dispose of the bodies in the morning.”
She nodded, gulping in air. “Agreed.”
They climbed up. Logan helped Morgan to the nearest chair where she remained for the rest of their watch. Logan patrolled the walls, left alone with his churning thoughts. If he had lost her…
From the beginning, he’d planned on leaving, only staying long enough to help Max build a secure base. Their unexpected friendship had caused him to hesitate. When Big Ben and his group arrived, Logan told himself he’d stay another week at the most. Until that day—the day they saved Morgan. The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one. She just had to realize it too.
When Armand and Angie showed up to take over the next watch, Logan was more than ready to go. He helped her off the wall, and she leaned on him while they walked. She collapsed on her bed with a gasp, and he frowned. “Should I call Hannah?”
“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I just need to relax.”
“Let me have a look.”
“It’s no big deal, Logan. Come on, don’t fuss over me.”
He fixed her with a glare. She shut her mouth, and she stuck out her leg with a huff.
He unwound the bandage and examined the wounds. The stitches had survived the fight. It was swollen and bruised but otherwise okay. He disinfected the area before wrapping it with a clean bandage and gave her the medication Hannah had prescribed. Antibiotics and painkillers.
“I’m so tired,” she moaned, flopping back onto the bed.
“Let me tuck you in,” he teased.
She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he laughed. “Relax, I’m just gonna take your boots off.”
He eased them off her calves followed by the socks but stopped when he saw the crescent-shaped bruises covering her shin. “That must hurt.”
“Not anymore,” she giggled, winking at him.
“I see the drugs are kicking in,” he replied with wry amusement. “You’ve got no head for meds, you know? It makes you loopy.”
She giggled again and hooked a finger in his collar. “You make me loopy.”
He let her pull him up onto the bed, unable to resist her charms. She kissed him with abandon, curling her fingers in his hair. He could feel his restraint slipping and gripped her ass, pulling her tight against him. She moaned, swinging her leg over his hip as her fingers traveled down to his belt and fumbled with the buckle.
Logan sighed and broke off the kiss. “I’m going to hate myself for this later but…” He pushed her away, gently but firmly. “I can’t let you do this.”
She pouted. “Why?”
“Because you’re all drugged up. I won’t take advantage of you.”
“But I want you to.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re not making this easy, are you?” She pulled a face and rolled away. “Fine, be the gentleman.”
“I’m sorry, love,” he said, planting a kiss on her brow. “See you in the morning.”
He got up to leave, but she grabbed his hand. “Wait. At least stay the night.”
Logan hesitated.
“Just hold me, okay? I can’t blame you tomorrow for having a cuddle, now can I?”
“I suppose not,” he conceded.
He shuffled into bed next to her. Morgan curled her body into his, pulling his arms tight around her. Her breathing slowed as she drifted off. Logan tried to relax, tried to think of anything except the warm body pressed to his and the pulsing need in his crotch.
“You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered, resigning himself to a long, sleepless night.
Morning came far too soon. Morgan wanted to say goodbye to her brother and the rest before they left. Everyone else had the same idea, and the dining room was packed. Delicious smells wafted through the air as Elise prepared a proper send-off for the heroes, and Logan’s stomach growled.
It was evident to everyone in the room that things between Morgan and Logan had changed. Whenever Logan looked at her, she blushed a deep, beetroot red. This caused much amusement among the observers.
“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Morgan said with a sheepish smile.
“Not like it was ever a state secret,” Julianne teased.
The only tense moment occurred when Joanna arrived. Morgan stiffened, and Logan removed his arm from around her shoulders.
Joanna forestalled Morgan’s stuttered explanation with a raised hand. “Morgan, dear, don’t apologize. It’sIt’s your life and your decision.”
She turned and made a dignified exit, leaving Morgan red-faced and guilty-looking.
“That went well,” Logan said.
Morgan swallowed, chewing on her bottom lip.
“It must be hard for her, losing her son, and seeing you with someone else.” He studied her stricken face. “How do you feel about it?”
“I feel bad. How can I not?”
“Are you sorry?”
“No, I’m not. I could die tomorrow and then what? Besides, this doesn’t change the fact that I loved him. He was a good man.”
“I’m sure he was,” Logan said.
“Thank you for understanding.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll help Elise wash up. See you later.”
Slinging his rifle to its customary spot, he walked out into the chilly pre-dawn air. He nodded to Armand and Angie who stood off to the side. Max and the others were preparing to leave, and he ambled over to see them off. He could not help but notice the hostile look Armand shot him, though.
Angie whispered to him, but the boy ignored her, glaring at Logan instead. She tugged at his arm. With a violent pull, he shrugged her off. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she turned away. Stupid. Too caught up in his damn fantasies to see what’s staring him right in the face.
Logan shrugged. The boy would learn or not. It was no business of his what Armand did. As long as he stays away from Morgan. She’s mine, and I don’t intend to share.
Chapter 18 - Big Ben
It was well before dawn, and the road was dark and quiet, the only signs of life being the odd startled meerkat or guinea fowl caught in the headlights. Ben sighed and rubbed his eyes, tired from all the peering into the dark. His eyesight wasn’t quite what it used to be anymore, and a trip to the optometrist was out of the question now.
I’m getting too old for this. He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. Strange how life takes the most unexpected turns.
When he was younger, he was a boxer. A good one too. But the injuries took their toll, and he retired early to open a gymnasium. He met and married a good woman and hoped for a family. It wasn’t meant to be. Mariana was diagnosed with cervical cancer a year after their marriage, and all dreams of children died with that discovery. Thankfully, Mariana recovered from the illness after treatment, and they spent many happy years together. Now he was glad they’d never had children. Losing his wife was bad enough. He still had nightmares of those first few days of the apocalypse.
He had gone to the studio at ten that morning. After class, he was perplexed to notice several missed calls from Mariana which wa
s unusual since she didn’t like to bother him at work. He called back, but she didn’t answer.
Dismissing the next class, he jumped into his car and raced home, a feeling of foreboding gnawing at his gut. He found the streets in chaos and traffic jammed to a suffocating degree. The sense of wrongness intensified.
When he reached home, his worst fears were confirmed. Someone had broken into the house. The dining-room windows were smashed into pieces.
He followed a blood trail to the bedroom, finding the door open. More blood than he had ever seen before in his life obscured the room. It was splashed onto the walls, the ceiling, the bed, and soaked into the carpet.
He found his wife on the floor on the other side of the bed. He could barely identify her there was so little left. Only the blond hair and wedding ring confirmed his worst fears. Luckily or unluckily, depending on the point of view, her skull had been cracked open and her brain eaten, preventing her from turning and coming back as a monster.
Shocked and confused, it took some time to figure out what was happening and make a run for it. He picked up Angie and Susan along the way. They barely made it out of Bloemfontein alive.
On the road, they met up with the others and were chased from one place to the next. During that time, he grew fond of the girls, along with Armand and Jacques, coming to see them as his adopted children.
The night they ended up at Max’s place, they were attacked. Susan got bitten. He blamed himself for that. He should have been there for her and protected her just as he should have protected his wife. At least Angie was still alive, and he would make damn sure she stayed that way.
Up ahead, the other vehicle slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. Max had briefed them all beforehand, and they’d decided to launch a surprise attack at dawn.
Joseph shot Ben a smile, his teeth gleaming pearly white against his ebony skin. Ben had grown to trust him after the many near misses they’d faced together in the past, and the two men were as close as brothers.
“Today, my friend, we might die,” Joseph said.
“Comforting,” Ben replied.
Joseph laughed, “Don’t look so sad. We’ve faced many dangers together, and if we die today, we go to meet our ancestors.”
Ben snorted, “Forgive me if that prospect does not excite me.”
Joseph clapped him on the back and walked ahead, joining the rest. Ben stretched out his stiff limbs, hoping to get the blood flowing again. He did not look forward to what awaited them. The idea of killing repulsed him, but he realized the necessity. What bothered him the most was the thought of the remaining girl. He hoped they weren’t rescuing a corpse.
They huddled together as Max dispensed last-minute instructions. Then they were off, jogging along the dirt track spaced loosely apart, each keeping a wary eye out for trouble.
The sun was rising which relieved Ben. It enabled him to see better. A light sweat broke out on his forehead, but his body moved with ease, and he enjoyed the activity. The gate appeared, the silver metal gleaming with dewdrops. They fanned out to the sides, hunkering down with their rifles ready.
Max cleared the area as they slipped through the gate in single file. Fanning out again, they approached the tree line, keeping low in the grass. They each chose a sheltered spot with a wide field of fire while Max reconnoitered to make sure there weren’t any surprises in store for them, either guards or infected.
Lisa had told them much about both the men they faced and the layout. She’d also told them the group sometimes captured infected, using them for sport.
Ben admired the girl for being so clear-headed despite what she’d been through. Her companion Michelle was both younger and more traumatized. They had not questioned her.
After a tense few minutes, Max gave the all clear and took up his position. Max exchanged a glance with each of them and mouthed, “Ready?”
They nodded. Max pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it into the center of the buildings. It detonated with a terrific bang, sending up a shower of dirt and dust to leave behind a crater. Doors burst open, and figures spilled out, firing shots at random. The bright morning sun blinded them, and their bullets went wild.
“What a bunch of dumbasses,” Ben muttered. Clearly, intelligence wasn’t their strong suit.
He lined up his sights and squeezed the trigger, putting a bullet between the eyes of the nearest, a burly man with a bushy beard worthy of Grizzly Adams. He went down, twitched once and lay still. Joseph, Max, and Jacques each picked their targets, and two more fell while the third ducked behind a car, wounded in the shoulder.
That’s three down, Ben thought, with the fourth wounded. That leaves two, of which one is nowhere in sight, and the other is minus a knee thanks to Morgan.
Silence fell, overwhelming after the wild gunfire and grenade blast. It was broken only by the hoarse cries of the wounded man.
After a few seconds, Max spoke. “Drop your gun and come out with your hands in the air.” Silence met his demand. “If you don’t, I’m tossing a grenade over there.”
“No way. If I come out, you’ll shoot me.”
“He’s got that right,” Jacques muttered under his breath.
Joseph snorted.
Max silenced them both with a glance. “We won’t shoot you if you come out, but if you don’t, I’ll blow you to pieces. How’s that?”
A moment’s silence. “Fine! I’m coming out. Please don’t shoot.” He tossed his rifle away and crawled out from behind the vehicle.
Max motioned to the others to stand down. “Where’s the rest of you?”
“The rest?”
“We know there’s at least two more of you. Don’t play dumb with me unless you want a bullet between the eyes.”
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Gary’s dead. That bitch did him in with that shot to the knee. Cried for hours before he died.”
“The other one?”
The guy swallowed. “There isn’t anyone else.”
“Don’t talk shit. Do you want to die?”
“No.” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes straying to a cottage not far from him. “I swear I’m the only one that’s left.”
“You’re lying.”
“Okay, fine, he’s over—” A shot rang out, and he fell, red blooming on his chest.
Max looked around. “Who shot him?”
Ben shrugged, “Not me.”
The other two also shook their heads. Max looked back, scanning the grounds. “Must be his partner. He doesn’t want to be found.”
“Smoke him out,” Ben suggested. “Put those grenades to use.”
“Good idea.” Max tossed a grenade, followed closely by two more. Explosions rocked the ground, and the percussive sounds made Ben’s ears ring.
When the noise faded, Max shouted, “We know you’re in there. You might as well come out, or I’ll blow you into so many pieces there won’t be enough left for the ants to carry away.”
Silence.
Max looked at the others. “What now? If I keep throwing grenades, I risk killing the girl.”
“We hunt him down,” Joseph said, “like the animal he is.”
“It’s too dangerous. There’s no cover,” Max said, shaking his head.
“We don’t have a choi—” Joseph replied before being interrupted.
“All right. I’m coming out, but if you try anything, I’ll shoot the girl,” a strange voice shouted. They all looked down, trying to pinpoint its location.
Max narrowed his eyes. “Come on out. We won’t shoot.”
In the doorway of a cottage, the struggling figure of a girl appeared followed by a slender frame.
Ben blinked, surprised at what he saw. “It’s just a boy!” he exclaimed, exchanging incredulous looks with the others.
The last remaining survivor of the enemy group was still in his teens, seventeen maybe eighteen. Wide eyes and freckles dominated his features, lending him an innocent air; his red hair gleamed
in the sunlight.
“What the fuck?” Max muttered.
The boy pushed the girl along in front of him. Ben focused on her. She wore a torn red dress. Her brown hair was unwashed and limp and shrouded her face. Duct tape covered her mouth. She wouldn’t stand still and fought against her bonds, utterly ignoring the gun trained to the back of her head.
“Let the girl go,” Max shouted.
“No,” the boy yelled back, defiant. “I’m taking her and getting out of here. If you shoot me, she dies.”
“No deal. Let the girl go, and…” Max hesitated, “and you walk.”
Ben shot Max a look. “Max, we can’t let him go. He’s a monster.”
“What choice do we have? We have to rescue her,” Max protested.
“I can take him,” Jacques said. “He won’t know what hit him.”
“It’s too risky. She’s struggling too much.” Max shook his head and turned back.
“I give you my word. Let her go, and you can walk free. No consequences.”
The boy thought about it, emotions flickering across his face in rapid succession. Ben found it hard to read him. The innocent looks threw him off. There was something there, though, something cruel and hard but most of all, devious. He can’t be trusted.
After a tense moment, the boy nodded, “I agree. If you give your word.”
“I give you my word and the word of my men.”
“You’ll have to come fetch her,” the boy smirked. “She might need some…assistance.”
Ben’s blood boiled, enraged at the thought of what the poor girl had been through. Fucker.
Debating briefly, Max stood. “I’m coming.”
Jacques jumped up with the eagerness of youth, “No, let me, Max.”
He started down the ridge without waiting for permission, and Max had no choice but to let him go.
Ben’s instincts screamed at him. Something was wrong. He looked at the girl again. She was still struggling, refusing to back down. As he focused on her, he noticed something off. A crescent bite mark peeped out from underneath the long hair over her shoulders.
Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set Page 17
