Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  The strange sight of running figures weaving through the long line of stationary cars distracted her. They were running towards her and away from something she couldn’t see. Their faces wore uniform expressions of fear and panic. The sense of unease blossomed to worry. What were they running from?

  The stream of fleeing people grew, several brushing past her car and one even bouncing off her side mirror. Worry turned to horror when one of the runners overtook another and pounced on the woman, biting her arm. Blood spurted from the wound, and they fell out of sight.

  Fright caused Lilian’s stomach to roll as she gaped at the spot where the figures had disappeared, her mind stumbling to catch up. Michael gripped her arm as the atmosphere of terror reached him, his eyes like saucers. “Mommy? What’s happening?”

  Snowy barked, sensing that something was wrong, her shrill yips adding to the panic growing within Lilian. She looked around for an escape route. There was none. They were trapped in the bumper to bumper traffic. She grabbed her phone and tried to call Ronald again before dialing the emergency services. Neither call was answered.

  In the cars around her, pandemonium broke out as people tried to figure out what was going on. Not sure what to do, she grabbed her handbag and stuffed the phone back inside. Next, she unclipped Michael’s seatbelt as well as her own.

  “Wait in the car, sweetie. Don’t move.”

  A wall of sound washed over her when she cracked open the door, a deafening mixture of screams and sirens. A short, heavyset man ran past but stumbled to a stop when he saw the children in the car.

  “Ma’am, grab your kids and run.” He heaved for breath, his face beet red and perspiring.

  “What? Why?” she cried, her veins flushed with poisonous fear.

  “Just do it. They’re coming!”

  “Who’s coming? What do you mean?”

  “The dead! The dead are coming!”

  With one last terrified look, the man stumbled away, not answering her frantic queries and calls. What did he mean, the dead? Pausing for a split second, Lilian came to a decision. They had to run. “Michael, get out of the car now. No, get out through my side. Come to me.”

  She opened the back door and took out Sam’s nappy bag, slinging it over her shoulder along with her handbag. Then she removed Sam’s car seat and lifted her out, gripping the handle. Turning back, she called to Michael and grabbed his hand. “We’re going to run, sweetie. Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

  “What about Snowy?”

  “She’ll run behind us.”

  “But she might get lost.”

  “Just listen to me, please. Be a big boy now.” He nodded, and she called to the dog. “Come on, Snowy. Come on.”

  The little dog jumped out, wagging its tail at the thought of going for a run, and Lilian sighed with relief. One less problem to deal with, at least.

  In this fashion, Lilian set off at a jog, pulling Michael along as fast as his short legs allowed. Others overtook them, and her fear grew. What was going on? Who or what were they running from?

  She glanced over her shoulder. More and more people were abandoning their cars, adding to the chaos. A series of screams rang out, spurring her on as fresh terror spurted through her veins. Her mind was in a whirl, trying to make sense of the situation and failing. A bomb? Fire? Explosion?

  The nappy bag kept slipping off her shoulder, hampering her progress. Her handbag bounced against her hip, and the handle of the car seat slipped from her sweaty fingers. Michael had begun to bawl, and Sam soon joined in, adding her shrill scream to the manic noise surrounding them. “Please, sweetie. Don’t cry. We’re almost there, I prom―”

  A body collided with hers, sending her reeling into the side of a car. The owner of the body turned out to be a young man who never paused in his headlong flight. More people pushed past, and Michael screamed as his hand was ripped from hers. “Mommy!”

  “Michael!” Lilian turned back, spotting him lying on the tarmac a short distance away. His knee bled, the skin was torn, and tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m coming, baby.”

  She struggled towards him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Before she could reach him, a young woman stopped and scooped him into her arms, her afro braids swinging around her slim arms. “Let me help you.”

  “Thank you.” Lilian flashed the girl a grateful smile.

  With the unexpected help, Lilian made better progress, but the screams from behind were increasing in volume. Whatever they were running from was catching up. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest, and her arms felt like lead. A quick glance over her shoulder made her stumble in shock. A wall of people with crazed, bloody faces streamed towards them. A chorus of growls and snarls preceded them.

  “Hurry!” she cried, forcing her legs to go faster. Her heart sank when she realized they weren’t going to make it. The mob was faster than they could hope to be.

  The girl carrying Michael must have reached the same conclusion because she darted into a side street. “In here!”

  For a second Lilian hesitated, but the screams and growls from behind spurred her onward. They ran up the narrow street and entered a maze of alleys that backed onto bargain shops and takeaways.

  The area was poorly maintained, filled with uncollected rubbish, overflowing dumpsters, and puddles of water. It reeked of urine and rot, but the sounds from the main street faded to a dull roar. Lilian felt an immediate sense of relief. The girl pulled her down behind a dumpster where they huddled.

  “You keep watch while I see to my baby,” Lilian said. She unbuckled Sam and picked her up, stilling her hysterical screams while Michael watched, dried tears and snot clotting his nose.

  “Mommy, where’s Snowy?” he asked.

  For the first time, Lilian realized they had lost the dog somewhere during their headlong flight. She swallowed. Michael’s lip quivered, tears threatening to fall once more.

  “She’s gone,” he cried.

  “Oh, baby. We’ll find her. You’ll see.” Lilian cleaned his face with a wipe. “She’ll be fine, I promise. Come here.”

  With one hand, Lilian rocked Sam while the other pulled Michael in for a hug. Two hysterical children didn’t make the situation any better, and she felt like crying too. Nothing made sense anymore.

  When Sam quieted down, at last, Lilian gave her a spoonful of medicine. It would make her sleepy and hopefully keep her quiet. Not ideal, but desperate measures are called for.

  She pulled out a box of fruit juice for Michael and gave Sam her bottle then looked up at the girl. She’d found a piece of rusted pipe and brandished it like a club. “What’s your name?”

  “Angela.”

  “Hi, Angela. Thanks for helping out.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Do you know what’s happening?”

  “Not really. All I know is that a virus has broken out that makes people go crazy. They’re attacking everyone, even…” Angela’s eyes went to Michael’s scared face, and she dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Even eating them.”

  Lilian shuddered. “We need to get somewhere safe.”

  “My house is safe. We can stay there. It’s got high walls, and my dad will know what to do. He works for the government.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. How far is it?”

  “It’s in Sandton,” Angela replied.

  “We’ll have to walk. What if we get attacked?” Lilian asked.

  “We don’t have a choice. We can’t stay here.”

  Lilian fished out her phone and tried to call Ronald again. No service. “Have you got reception?”

  Angela shook her head. “I lost my phone back there.”

  Lilian thought for a moment but could come up with no alternatives. “Well, let’s get going then.”

  They set off and navigated the sea of alleys, working their way through it block by block. In the distance, sirens wailed, and columns of black smoke rose above the skyline. The city is burning.

/>   An opening between two buildings revealed another main street clogged with crashed and abandoned cars, and they paused. Angela edged forward with her pipe raised over her shoulder and peeked out.

  “Is it safe?”

  “It’s clear over here, but I can see people at the end of the block. They don’t look healthy. I think they’re sick too.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “I don’t know. They’re all knotted together.”

  “Should we chance it?”

  “We have to. We need to cross this street to get to my house.”

  Running from car to car, they worked their way across while keeping low to the ground. Thankfully Michael kept quiet; his head was slumped over Angela’s shoulder and his eyes glassy. Sam had fallen asleep in her chair, lulled by the pain syrup.

  Lilian chanced a look at the throng of people, her heart jumping in her throat at the sight. Angela was right. They were gathered around something, maybe a car, swarming like ants. Lilian hoped there wasn’t someone trapped inside, but at least it caused a distraction.

  Once across, they hugged the buildings, crunching over broken glass and debris. The sights that met their eyes were terrifying. A body was slumped over the hood of a car, blood pooling on the tar where it trickled down. Corpses littered the road, their last moments etched on their agonized faces. A few twitched, and she marveled that they could still be alive with such awful wounds. Or are they sick too? Are they becoming like the others now?

  This horrifying thought caused her to speed up. She did not want to be attacked by a seemingly dead person. Lilian averted her eyes, but jumped when fists slammed into the window next to her. A woman, probably a shop assistant, growled at them through the displays. One of her arms had been ripped off at the elbow, and ribbons of flesh dangled from the stump. Lilian’s heart stuttered in terror, unable to comprehend how the woman could still move let alone attack anyone.

  “Run!” Angela cried. “She’ll draw more.”

  They sprinted down another alley and paused, alert for any movement. Thankfully, it was empty, and they hurried along, their raspy breaths loud in the thick silence.

  Time passed as they crept through the city, avoiding the busy streets whenever possible and hiding when it wasn’t. The hours went by slowly. Early evening found them crouched between mounds of garbage bags. “We can’t go any further tonight, Angela. We need to rest.”

  Angela nodded, face drawn with the exhaustion they all felt. Lilian dug into Samantha’s nappy bag and pulled out more juice and a packet of sandwiches which they shared. It was precious little, though, and most of it went to Michael. Luckily, Lilian had packed enough formula for Sam to keep her satisfied.

  During the night, Lilian tried several more times to phone Ronald and the emergency services. She gave up at last and huddled with the cell clutched to her breast, flicking through their family photos. Are you still alive, my love? Please be okay. Please.

  It was a miserable night, cold and bitter, the air filled with unfamiliar rustles. Lilian jumped whenever a rat skittered past, her mind conjuring up wild images of monstrous faces leering through the dark. Her arms tightened around her children. I won’t let anything happen to them.

  The next morning dawned fresh and bright, the sun shining in mockery of their plight. Once again she tried to call Ronald and her sister, Morgan. No luck.

  Lilian rose to her feet, joints stiff and muscles cramped. If anything, she felt more tired than before, but her determination never waned. “Come on,” she coaxed Angela and Michael. “We need to get to safety. It’s not far now, I’m sure.”

  They set off, trudging through the litter surrounding their feet. The grungy buildings and back alleys gave way to broad streets and paved sidewalks as they entered a more affluent part of the city. Here the walls were clean of graffiti and the ground free of rubbish.

  Here too, their chances of being spotted increased. Roving bands of infected roamed the street, cars clogged the crossings, and blood had spilled everywhere, evidence of the horrors of the night before. It looked like something out of the twilight zone. Lilian’s eyes moved in constant search for danger. Their speed slowed to a snail’s pace, their movements restricted to the availability of cover.

  Around noon, they were huddled behind an electrical unit waiting for a band of infected to pass. A deep growl caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. Lilian turned her head, her guts churning with fear.

  A face from her worst nightmares crawled toward her across the pavement. It hissed through torn lips, strips of flesh hanging from its cheeks. Matted blond hair covered the scalp. A single blue eye fixated on her, a film of milky white covering the iris. Its lower body was missing, a string of entrails leaving a trail of gore behind to indicate its progress.

  Lilian smothered a shriek, her hand reaching for Angela. The other girl’s brown eyes widened, and she turned in a swift movement to prevent Michael from seeing the approaching monstrosity. They remained frozen, watching the thing crawl closer, unable to move for fear of alerting the other infected.

  Lilian’s vision narrowed until the crawler became all she saw, her mind drinking in every horrific detail. The rasp issuing from its throat, the torn fingernails scrabbling at the concrete, the congealed blood staining its clothes. A curious feeling of lethargy took hold of her, and her will to live drained away. As the gap between her and the infected narrowed, a sense of foreboding set in. We’re all going to die. This is the end.

  “They’re gone. Run!” Angela’s fierce whisper shook her from her stupor, bringing Lilian back to the present.

  Her fingers tightened around the handle of the car seat. She leaped to her feet and ran after the fleeing Angela. Her eyes fixed on Michael’s mop of hair, and her maternal instincts rose. We won’t die. Not today. Not if I can help it.

  Their pounding feet took them through the suburbs, the streets lined with houses standing proudly behind tall gates. A sprawling park provided cover from the roving bands of infected, the tall trees and green grass granting welcome relief to the soul.

  “It’s not far now,” Angela said. “We’re almost there.” She was smiling for the first time that day, her teeth dazzling white against the milk chocolate of her skin. Lilian couldn’t help but return her smile.

  “I can’t wait to see my parents. They’ll know what’s going on.”

  “I just hope Ronald’s okay,” Lilian replied. “He has to be.”

  “He will be, you’ll see.”

  They left the park and traveled on, the streets eerie and deserted. Driveways were empty, gates locked and curtains drawn. Either the rich people that lived here had fled Johannesburg, or they were hiding, safe behind their barriers and security gates. They reached a crossing. Angela turned left, rounding the corner of a sandstone wall higher than Lilian could reach.

  “Almost there,” she cried, her excitement palpable.

  A guttural snarl wiped the smile off her face as she walked straight into a knot of infected. Angela backpedaled, but a woman in a torn business suit latched onto her shirt. Another grabbed her arm, and she struggled against their hold, twisting and turning.

  Lilian’s guts turned to water when Michael shrieked, his little hands batting at the undead fingers. Without thinking, she dropped the car seat and leaped forward to save him. She plucked him from their midst and scrambled backward, clutching him to her chest.

  “Help me!” Angela cried, still trying to escape the infected that crowded closer, jostling each other in their eagerness to reach her.

  “Hold on,” Lilian said, dropping Michael next to his sister. She prepared to rush forward, but froze when Angela screamed in agony.

  The business woman had her in a death grip, teeth buried in Angela’s shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound, spattering the tar beneath her feet. The rest closed in like vultures, ready to tear her limb from limb.

  Horrified, Lilian scooped Michael up and grabbed the handle of the car seat as she backed away from the te
rrible scene. Great rents appeared in Angela’s flesh, the once flawless skin a tapestry of pain as the crowd consumed her. Her face was contorted, and her gaze never left Lilian’s even when her scalp was peeled away.

  Tears streamed down Lilian’s face as she watched, utterly helpless. Michael sobbed against her shoulder, and Sam shrieked nonstop. With one last look, she turned to run, a whispered apology escaping her lips. I’m sorry.

  Terror granted speed to her legs while Angela’s screams followed her, hounding each step she took. Guilt at failing her new friend stabbed at her heart, and each step felt like a betrayal, but she didn’t stop. Her children came first.

  Where do I go?

  What do I do?

  I don’t…I can’t…it’s too much.

  “Over here!” A strange voice called to her, and she slowed as hope blossomed in her chest. “In here!”

  A sign loomed ahead, shining like a beacon of hope. The red lettering was bright against a background depicting a yellow brick road. “Welcome to Little Wizards and Witches of Oz.”

  A school.

  She dashed to the small gate and peered through the wire. A cobbled path led up steps to a wooden door. A pale face peered through a crack, gesturing at her to come inside.

  Lilian fumbled with the metal latch that held the gate closed with one hand, the other still holding the car seat. She jiggled the bar, trying not to drop Michael who still bawled in her ears. Her eyes roved for danger, and she spotted figures running toward her at breakneck speed. The same ones who had attacked Angela?

  “Hurry!” her unknown savior urged.

  A fresh burst of terror sent her into overdrive, and she tore the latch loose. Stumbling through, she slammed the gate shut and shoved the metal bar into place. The open door seemed incredibly far, but she made it through with a sob of relief. It closed behind her with a bang.

  “Are you all right, dear? Let me help you.” Hands pulled Micheal from her arms and tugged at the car seat. Lilian resisted for a single moment, her fingers cramped and stiff. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll take good care of your children. You’re safe now.”