“I stay with my grandparents,” Susan answered. “They live in the city. In Bloemfontein.” Her voice was small, as though she realized the impossibility of going back.
“And you?” Ben asked Angie.
“I don’t have anyone,” she answered.
It was true in a way. Her father was too busy to have time for his only daughter. Not that she cared. As long as he gave her what she wanted, it didn’t matter to her what he did. As for her mother, she was a simpering idiot. There was no she’d go back to that hellhole for them. They were useless to her now, and she dismissed them from her life without any regrets.
That night, they slept in an abandoned shed on a farm. It was the first uncomfortable night of many as they roamed from place to place looking for safety.
Susan got a call through to her grandparents on the first night with Ben’s cell phone. It was too late for the old folks. Their house was surrounded by infected, and they begged her not to go back. After that, all communication ceased.
It didn’t take long to figure out what was going on and that the infected were in fact zombies. It took longer for Angie to learn how to wield a weapon and defend herself. Not that she needed to really. She quickly found that the best way to stay alive was to stick close to Ben or Susan and let them handle the infected.
A few days later, they picked up two more survivors, Tsekiso, and Adam. Adam only lasted a day before he was surprised by a zombie during a raid for supplies. Another lesson learned. Never enter a building first. Let someone take the fall instead.
A week after fleeing the city, Angie found herself crouched in the corner of a convenience store, clutching a rusty iron pipe with trembling hands. It was one of those twenty-four-hour places you found at garages, selling overpriced snacks to people who stopped for petrol.
A breeze filtered in through the broken windows of the shop front. Sunlight bathed the racks in gold. Angie shivered. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She was not alone. Something or someone was in there with her.
Her eyes swiveled, looking for either Ben or Susan, but there was no sign of them. Anger warred with fear within her breast. Where are they? I need them!
At least she knew where Tshekiso was.
He was dead.
After going for almost three days without food, the group became desperate. Desperation was never a good companion in dire times. It made a person careless. Like they had been to attempt this without a thorough recon first.
They had stopped here an hour ago, hoping for supplies. Tsekiso offered to siphon petrol from nearby vehicles while Ben and Susan went to the hardware shop next door. The convenience store was deemed the safest and assigned to Angie.
Unhappy at the thought of being alone, Angie nevertheless gathered her courage. She picked her way through the shattered glass, ears pricked for any noise that didn’t belong.
The icky taint of moldy sandwiches, sour milk, and rotten deli meat filled her nostrils. Stepping over the window frame, she searched the aisles for any undead. It was empty. With a sigh of relief, she picked up a basket and tossed in anything useful she could lay her hands on.
Seconds later, she froze when Tsekiso let rip a bloodcurdling scream. It was the kind of scream that made it clear he was a goner, cut off moments later to be replaced by eerie silence. It was too late, though. The idiot had been loud enough to draw in a whole bunch of infected. They filled the lot, cutting her off from the car and trapping her inside the store. Angie had ducked out of sight behind a rack and huddled in the corner.
The minutes ticked by as she waited, confident that either Ben or Susan would come for her. They never did. Now she was no longer sure they ever would.
The sound of shuffling footsteps made her heart hammer. The tinkling sounds that followed told Angie that whoever it was, had entered through the open shop front. A soft groan confirmed her fears. Zombie.
She clutched the pipe to her chest, her knuckles bleached paper white. With quick, shallow breaths, she nerved herself to fight. The infected shuffled around the corner of a shelf. It was a little girl, about ten years old. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes blue. She seemed intact but for a small bite mark on her arm, and she was fresh.
It was surprising. Surprising and unnerving. It made her look like just an ordinary child, innocent and sweet, not the predator she’d become. The little girl halted, and a sixth sense alerted her to live prey. She spotted Angie, and her lips pulled back in a snarl. She charged.
Angie rose out of her crouch and swung the pipe. It glanced off the girl’s temple and cut her scalp. Black blood poured over her porcelain skin, marring her pretty features. Her body fell back then righted itself. With a crack of her neck, her head snapped forward, and her eyes fixed on Angie.
“Help! Help me!” Angie cried, though she knew no one would answer. It felt like she was drowning in fear. Panic peeled back her defenses like acid rain, leaving her exposed and quivering.
The little monster launched itself at her again.
Without thinking, Angie struck hard, a long, sweeping blow. The pipe connected with the girl’s forehead and her feet flew out from underneath her. She fell, writhing like a worm on a hook.
Angie lifted her weapon and brought it down again with every bit of strength she possessed. Screaming with incoherent rage, she hit the girl over and over, banishing her fear with each strike. Blood and brains spattered her face. A sense of power filled her, joy at the death of another if it meant life for her. When the child’s head was nothing more than mush, she stood back, chest heaving. This is what it feels like not to be afraid.
Her triumph was short-lived. Other infected crowded into the shop, drawn by the noise of the struggle. In an instant, the fear was back, carried along on a wave of rotting flesh. Angie dropped the pipe. It fell with a clang on the floor, and she sank to her haunches. With her back pressed against the wall, she sobbed. “Please, no! I don’t want to die!”
A crackle of gunfire tore through the shop, and she stopped screaming. Wild hope flooded her veins as the zombies fell beneath a rain of bullets. Plaster rained down from the walls, and she covered her head in her arms. Finally, it stopped, though she was too scared to look.
“Hello?” a strange male voice shouted.
Angie dared to open her eyes. She lifted her chin with slow caution. The infected were all dead, strewn about in a wanton circle of destruction. The crunch of footsteps over the threshold announced her savior’s arrival.
He was young, roughly her age. His hair was thick and honey colored, the fringe flopping over his eyes. No amateur, he checked each zombie to make sure it was dead before picking his way through the fallen corpses.
Blue eyes bored into hers, stripping away the outer layers of her soul. Her cheeks grew warm, and her heart skipped a beat. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“Need some help?” he asked.
“Thanks,” she said, finding her voice at last. With trembling fingers, she took the hand he extended and allowed him to help her to her feet.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, her stomach flopping around like a dying fish. What she’d once felt for George paled in comparison to the rush of emotion that roared through her now.
“Are you sure?” he said. “You didn’t get hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, flashing him a dazzling smile.
“Looks like I got here just in time.”
“I guess you did. You saved my life.” A breathless giggle escaped her lips, and she leaned into his side. “I’m Angie.”
“Armand.” He led the way out, still holding her hand. “So what’s a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time, I hope.”
“I’m sure we do,” she agreed.
All the time in the world.
Chapter 7 - Meghan
Meghan giggled as she watched Buzz and Princess chase each other on the grass, but the
novelty soon wore off, and she began to fidget. She sat under the shade of a fig tree with Anne, her best friend, though she preferred to be called Annie.
Jenny and Mark were there too, but Meghan considered them too young to be real friends. At nine, she was a full year and a half older than Mark and even more so than Jenny.
She sighed and gazed around, hoping to spy something fun to do. Their new home, far away from other houses and people, was a hive of activity. The grown-ups were all busy building and reinforcing, whatever that was supposed to mean. She guessed it had something to do with the sick people. The hungry ones.
Meghan pursed her lips when she saw the inner gates standing open with nobody in sight. That had never happened before.
A tingle of excitement shot through her. Ever since they got here, the kids had not been allowed to leave the inner camp. Not even with an adult by their side. It was frustrating. First, they were cooped up for months in the stupid riot center and now here.
She’d had a glimpse of the space outside the wall, and it looked impressive. Full of waving grass and wildflowers with clumps of trees and brush all over. She was willing to bet there were tons of butterflies too, her latest fascination.
Meghan pumped Annie in the ribs. “Look there.”
“Where?”
“Over there.” She pointed. “The gates are open.”
Annie’s eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet. “They shouldn’t be open. We should tell someone to close it.”
Meghan yanked on her arm and hissed, “No, stupid.”
Annie paused in confusion. “Why not?”
“Because…” Meghan cast a sidelong glance at Mark and Jenny to make sure they were still busy playing with their toys and couldn’t overhear. She did not want them along on this adventure. “We can go outside now without anyone knowing.”
Her friend gasped and back-pedaled, frantically shaking her head. “N…n…no, Meghan. We c…can’t do that.”
As ever when Annie was nervous, she stuttered. Meghan frowned and folded her arms. “Why not? Are you a scaredy-cat?”
“N…no, of course not.”
“I think you’re a scaredy-cat.”
Annie’s cheeks grew red at the insult, and her body stiffened. “I am so not scared!”
“Prove it then. Come outside with me for a little bit,” Meghan demanded in her most bossy tone of voice, the one she used to get her way.
Still, Annie hesitated.
Meghan changed tactics. Her posture relaxed, and she begged in her nicest manner. “Oh, come on, Annie. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
“What about the zombies?”
“What zombies?” Meghan replied. “You know there aren’t any around. The grown-ups killed them all. Besides, outside this wall, there’s another one. It goes all around us. So you see, it’s safe.”
“How do you know that?”
“I heard my mom talking about it the other day,” Meghan said. “She and Uncle Christo were saying they’re going to dig a moat around it.”
Annie eyed her with disbelief. “Really? Moat’s are for castles.”
“So? Don’t you remember when we first got here?” Meghan’s nose twitched with annoyance at her friend’s unusual resistance. “We drove through a gate in a fence to get inside.”
“Maybe.” Annie chewed her lip. “I can’t remember.”
Meghan’s temper snapped, and she stamped her foot. “Fine. Stay here then. I’ll go on my own, and if you tell on me, I’ll never talk to you again.”
She stomped off and headed straight for the open gate. A small smile played around her lips, growing broader when she heard Annie cry out, “Meghan, wait. I’m coming with you.”
I knew she would.
When Annie reached her side, Meghan slowed and looked around. A small distance away, Max stood talking to Joseph. If they turned, they’d see her and her friend, and their adventure would end before it began.
Meghan deliberated until she saw the big pile of lumber and brick next to the gate. Alongside it, lay a heap of sand. Perfect.
She grabbed Annie’s hand. “Come on.”
The two girls sprinted for the construction material and dropped down behind it with an excited giggle.
“Did they see us?” Annie asked.
Meghan peered around the corner. Max and Joseph were still talking non-stop. “Nope, they didn’t. Let’s go.”
She snuck along behind the wall of sand until she reached the opening in the gate. There she paused for a second to peer outside. When she was sure the coast was clear, she ducked through. Her legs pumped as she ran through the tall grass, extending her arms to the side, so her fingers brushed the tops. Freedom!
A cloud of tiny white butterflies rose, swirling around her head. She shrieked with delight. “Annie look!”
Annie had caught up by now and ran beside her, laughing. Together, they zig-zagged across the open field until they reached the fence.
“See?” Meghan said with a smirk. “I told you so.”
She reached out to touch the wires with her fingers, tugging on the strings. They vibrated beneath her hands, trembling up and down the length of it. Unbeknownst to the girls, though, this slight movement was enough to galvanize an undead creature into action.
Rebecca Fields, or Becca, had been an ordinary person once. A middle-aged mother of two teenagers with an older husband who worked too hard and never had time for them. She’d been pretty once and still was, despite the extra rolls that had accumulated around her middle. Unhappily, that wasn’t good enough for her husband who went off in search of greener pastures.
Those pastures came along in the shape of a twenty-year-old blonde who proved to be his undoing. While ‘working late’ one night, he visited his new squeeze. Infected with the virus due to an incident at the mall, she passed it on to him.
Later that night he returned home to the arms of his sweet loving wife. Her good nature proved to be her downfall when her cheating hubby became a zombie and attacked his family. No one escaped.
Now Becca wandered around in search of food. The fresh living kind. Hunger was the only thing that motivated her now. It was all that was left. Everything else had died when the virus entered her brain and took control. It was engineered that way, made to turn host bodies into mindless puppets that sought to spread the disease.
For days, she wandered. Weeks passed. Her trudging feet brought her here to this field, where a wire fence halted her progress. Unable to get through, she stared aimlessly in front of her with milky eyes.
Until now.
The vibrating wires of the fence spurred her to action. Movement meant life, and life meant meat. This knowledge was strengthened by the peals of girlish laughter that carried to her ears on the wind. Her actions became frenzied, and she clawed at the barrier in front of her with single-minded determination.
After a few minutes, she found it. An opening caused by rusted iron that had snapped off at the base of the metal post. The gap was barely big enough to fit her, but that didn’t matter to the thing that used to be Rebecca. Chunks of skin and flesh stayed behind as she fought her way through until she was free. Free to pursue the prey so near at hand.
Meghan was on her knees, staring intently at a thick green caterpillar that crawled along a plant stem. Black and white dots ran along its side, moving up and down as it crawled in that funny way worms had. “Look, Annie.”
Annie fell to her knees beside her. “Wow, it’s so creepy.”
“Is not. It’s pretty.”
Annie wrinkled her nose in disagreement.
Focused on their discovery, neither heard the stumbling feet behind them. With each second, it drew closer. Clawed hands reached toward their sweet innocent flesh, ready to tear them apart. Yellowed teeth gnashed in anticipation.
A low rasping groan caused Meghan’s ears to prick. She glanced over her shoulder, straight into the face of a woman decayed by death and time. Her lips were gone, lending her a grotesque smile. Her eyelid
s were eaten away which made her eyes bulge. Her hair clung in stringy strands to a thin scalp. Patches of bone shone through.
Annie followed Meghan’s gaze and screamed, a high-pitched girlish scream that rang across the field. It reached the ears of Max who turned to look in confusion. Suspicion set in, and he ran through the gates toward the frantic cries.
At the far end, he spied three figures. Two small and one large. The lurching movements of the tall one identified it as a zombie. One of the kids screamed again, and terror spurted through his veins. Meghan and Anne!
He ran faster, reaching for the gun at his side. His legs pumped with furious effort, and he shouted a hoarse cry, hoping to draw the attention of the zombie.
In vain.
Meghan flinched when Annie screamed, the shrill note piercing her eardrums. It shook her from her frozen state, and she jumped to her feet. With one hand, she dragged Annie upright as well and shoved her away from the zombie. “Run, Annie! Run!”
Her friend obeyed, her short little legs carrying her away from the undead terror and back toward the safety of home. Meghan tried to follow, but a set of fingers latched onto her ponytail.
She was jerked backward on her heels, and a sharp pain stabbed through her scalp. An open mouth leaned down toward her vulnerable face. Meghan struggled, but the creature was too strong. It was going to get her, those teeth closing in on the soft flesh of her cheek.
“No,” she cried.
A short distance away, Max ran past the fleeing figure of Annie. His feet carried him toward his baby sister at incredible speed, but in his heart, he knew he’d never make it. She was doomed. “Meghan!”
Back at the camp, Kirstin had been alerted by the fuss kicked up by a crowd of panicked people, one of them Julianne. With her Galil sniper rifle slung across her back, she ascended the wall with swift movements.
Her sharp eyes, blessed with perfect eyesight, picked out the silhouettes of the running Max and fleeing Anne. Beyond that, she spied Meghan struggling against the grasp of a zombie.
Her mouth set into a straight line, and she unslung her gun, sinking to the floor. With her elbows propped against her knees, she sighted on the infected’s head. It was a difficult shot. Not only was the thing moving, but it had to be a headshot.
Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set Page 33
