Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

“That she is. When I found Nadia, she was alone, surviving on her own for months already.”

  “So she’s immune? A carrier?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” Julianne asked. “Max will be along soon, and I’m sure he’d like to know as well.”

  “Later,” Logan replied. “Right now, I just want her to be okay.”

  “She’s important to you,” Julianne murmured.

  “She saved my life,” Logan said. “Without Nadia, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, you’re not alone anymore. Either of you.” Julianne placed her hand on his, while Breytenbach gave him the thumbs up.

  A wave of warmth washed over Logan. It had been a good idea to bring Nadia here. These were good people. More than that, they were family. Our family.

  Chapter 24 - Hiran

  Hiran watched from a distance as the camp’s inhabitants won the day, stopping up the breach in their defenses with a wall of dirt. He’d known the attack would fail, had seen it the moment their reinforcements arrived. These were no ordinary survivors. They were tough, well-armed, and organized.

  He’d told Ke Tau as much, but the arrogant leader was blind to the truth and refused to back down. Hiran was no fool, though, and had purposely stayed behind, keeping the best men with him. By now, Ke Tau would know Hiran had betrayed him. He’s probably dead already.

  Now Ke Tau and Carlito were gone, along with all those that had followed them. Most of their vehicles were scrapped, and their ammunition was running low. The time had come to retreat. Live to fight another day.

  He lowered the binoculars and looked at the two shivering wrecks of humanity that lay at his feet. The man’s face was bruised and swollen, his nose cut across the bridge, and his spectacles smashed to bits. The woman cowered away from him, tears streaming down her face and blood dripping from a split lip.

  They were captured earlier that day, fleeing the camp ahead of the attack. Sadly for them, he’d posted look-outs for just such an eventuality. Captives were useful as bargaining chips, but with the battle lost, their luck had just run out.

  Hiran prodded the woman with his foot, and she sobbed pitifully. “Well, it seems I don’t need you two anymore.”

  The man looked up, and his face crumpled. “No, please, don’t hurt us. Let us go, I beg you.”

  Hiran’s lips curled with disgust at the naked cowardice the man displayed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that…Nick was it? You’re not going anywhere.”

  “At least let my wife go. Sharyn’s harmless; she doesn’t deserve this,” Nick pleaded.

  “Nobody thinks they deserve it.” Hiran smirked. “But rest assured that your deaths will serve a purpose, more than your miserable lives ever did.”

  “What purpose?” Sharyn screamed, her voice shrill with raw emotion.

  Hiran stared at her with cold disdain. “The purpose of entertaining my men. They deserve a reward after the disappointments of the day.”

  She gaped at him, her eyes wide with horror. “You can’t do that!”

  “Oh, but I can, and I will.” He stepped back and flicked his head at the dozen or so men assembled around the clearing. “You have ten minutes. Make it quick.”

  “No! No, please,” Nick cried. “Let us go.”

  Hiran watched as Nick struggled against his bonds with futile desperation. His actions reminded Hiran of a fly caught in the web of a spider. A boot to the face quickly put an end to it, and his head snapped back from the force of the kick. More blows rained down, and his ribs crackled like kindling. His face was reduced to a shapeless mass, and blood dribbled from his smashed lips. Broken and bloody, he lay whimpering on the ground as his attackers turned their attention to his wife.

  Sharyn cries were abruptly cut off by a brutal punch to the jaw. Numerous hands pushed her face down into the dirt and ripped the clothes from her body. A line formed as the first of many took his turn upon her wriggling form, and raw animal sobs issued from her throat.

  Bored with the spectacle, Hiran turned away and walked toward his truck, an armored contraption he’d built himself. He slid behind the wheel and glanced at his watch. There was still time. The inhabitants of the camp wouldn’t venture out at night. Not right after the attack. They’d consolidate first, and count their losses.

  He waited patiently for the ten minutes to pass. When his team returned with wide smiles plastered across their faces, he drove off. Not once did he look back, the fates of the two human beings he’d tortured of no interest to him.

  In the clearing, silence descended as Nick and Sharyn lay quivering in the dust, their bodies and spirits broken. Crackling leaves announced the arrival of several infected, their movements eager as they searched for the source of the noise they’d heard. They found it.

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Hiran arrived at the compound. It was a haven no longer, and he knew they had to be gone by morning. Still, that left plenty of time to do what he had in mind. He climbed out of the truck and called to his right-hand man, George.

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Gather up the guards and round up the remaining vehicles. Load everything of use. Food, supplies, weapons…anything you can think of.”

  George nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  As he turned to leave, Hiran added, “Oh, and George…kill everyone inside.”

  George paused. “Everyone?”

  Hiran nodded. “Except the old woman, Rebecca. Bring her to me. Alive.”

  George gathered up all the men as well as those who’d stayed behind to guard the compound, and they trooped inside. Gunfire punctured the quiet night air, and frantic screams rose from inside the building.

  Hiran leaned against his truck and lit a cigarette. He dragged the savory smoke into his lungs while he listened to the symphony of horror and pain that issued from the doors. A smile played on his lips. The camp and its inhabitants had won, but the cost was high.

  He looked around him, at the spikes that still held the writhing forms of infected, those lashed to poles, and more sprawled in the road, killed where they fell. He’d miss the place, but it was time to move on.

  Ke Tau’s men, now his, performed their orders with swift efficiency. They killed and looted, loading the last of their vehicles with their booty until they were ready to leave. Only one small matter remained.

  Rebecca.

  Hiran waved his hand. “Bring her to me.”

  George dragged Rebecca over, and she cowered in front of his cold gaze. “Please, Sir. I’m just an old woman. I mean no harm.”

  He snorted. “An old woman who saw fit to betray her masters. It was you who helped your granddaughter to escape, wasn’t it? She warned the camp. They were ready for us. They knew we were coming.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “No, I swear, I didn’t. She ran because of Carlito, because he abused her.”

  “I used to have great respect for you, for your wisdom. You’ve proven me wrong.”

  “No, I swear it’s the truth.”

  Hiran raised a hand to silence her. “Spare me your lies. You’re a traitor, and as such you deserve a traitor’s death.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened in terror. Ke Tau’s punishment for those who betrayed him was a fate worse than death. Being fed to the infected was the ultimate horror, the same end that befell her son.

  “But,” Hiran said, raising a finger, “I still have use for you. So I might be inclined to a more merciful punishment if you’re willing to do something for me.”

  “What must I do?” she asked with cautious hope in her voice.

  “Live.”

  Her wrinkled brow furrowed in confusion. “Live?”

  “Just long enough to deliver a message to your granddaughter, Mpho. After that, you can die.” He smiled as his next words brought her to her knees. “Nail her to the door, George. Let her be an example to all those who cross me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” George replied. Not an ounce of sympathy showed in the man’s face
. He was Hiran’s second-in-command for a reason and obeyed without question. He dragged the old woman away, ignoring her please for mercy.

  Two men hoisted her up, and Rebecca screamed as George hammered a long nail through each of her wrists. Her frail figure shuddered with each blow of the hammer, and blood trickled from the wounds.

  Her feet followed, requiring several blows to drive the iron nails through the flesh and into the scarred wood. Afterward, she hung like a rag doll, her body shuddering with each breath she took. Blood pooled beneath her feet.

  Hiran watched the entire scene with an impassive face. No one would question his authority now, and the camp would know who they were dealing with. When George was finished, he walked toward Rebecca.

  She moaned, her eyes glassy with pain. “I…you said you’d be merciful.”

  “I was,” he said, unsheathing his knife. With the point, he scratched into the door above her head. “I could have fed you to your son. As it is, you’d better hope other infected don’t find you during the night.”

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Save your breath, old woman. You’ll need it.” He replaced his blade and turned to the waiting men. “Let’s move out.”

  Hiran climbed behind the wheel and ignited the engine. At the head of the convoy, he moved out, heading for greener pastures. As the town dwindled in his rearview mirror, he made a silent vow. I’ll return, and when I do, it’ll be at the head of an army.

  Chapter 25 - Mpho

  Mpho sat next to Michael in the truck, and nervous tension coiled in her stomach. It was an hour after dawn, and they were on their way to fetch her grandmother and the rest of Ke Tau’s former captives. With the battle won, they were free now, free to join the camp or make their way according to their choosing.

  She thought back to the night she’d escaped, to her headlong flight through the night with nothing but a steak knife to protect her. Now she was going back, but at the head of a convoy filled with people she’d come to view as their saviors. Will you look at me with pride, grandmother?

  Mpho hoped so. All her life she’d admired Rebecca, the strongest person she knew. Not only had the old woman raised eight children and helped to rear countless grandchildren, outliving her husband and recovering from cancer, but she’d also survived the outbreak. Her wisdom was well-known to those who knew her, and she possessed boundless courage coupled with a kind heart. If only I could be more like her.

  The convoy consisted of three large vehicles, each containing only two people to allow for passengers on the return trip. These were driven by Michael and herself, Martin and Caleb, and Max and Kirstin. The fourth vehicle, Tallulah, took the lead. It contained Ronnie, Lenka, Lisa, Josh, and Jed. Together, they formed a well-armed group of fighters, each of them fierce and experienced.

  The rest had stayed behind to begin the tedious job of cleaning up the mountains of undead corpses that littered the field around their camp and start working on repairs. It would take a long time to return their home to its former state, but Mpho didn’t allow that to bother her. She was determined to start a new life there. A real life. It’s my home now. That’s all that matters.

  Michael glanced at her and smiled. “Excited?”

  She grinned in response and bobbed her head. “Very.”

  “Well, it’s not far now. We’re nearly there.”

  She clenched her hands in her lap to still their nervous trembling and stared out of the window at the passing scenery. The streets were deserted, all the undead drawn away by Ke Tau’s men for the attack.

  The lack of infected highlighted the emptiness of the world they now lived in. Nothing moved, and the windows were empty. Stationary vehicles clogged the roads and crashed wrecks blocked most of the crossings. Uncollected rubbish decomposed in the sun, potholes grew large in the tar, and rats scurried through alleyways and across gutters.

  Mpho shuddered at the depressing sight, a little of her happiness leeching away. Suddenly she wished they were at their destination already, with Rebecca sitting next to her. Safe and sound.

  She turned toward Michael. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

  He frowned. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

  “It’s nothing; I’m just worried.”

  “You have nothing to fear. They’re perfectly fine. Ke Tau is gone,” Michael said.

  “What about his men? The ones that got away?” she asked.

  “Not many of them did. Maybe a handful, and if they were dumb enough to run back to their hideout, we’ll take care of them soon enough.”

  “Ke Tau will have posted guards too, and what about Hiran?”

  Michael shrugged. “The guards don’t stand a chance, and Hiran is a rat without a burrow to scurry to now.”

  “Maybe,” Mpho replied, though she privately doubted it. In her opinion, Hiran was the worst of them all, and craftier than Ke Tau had ever been.

  Mpho shuddered at the thought of his emotionless eyes. While the man might have respected her mother and protected her at times, he was as cold and callous as a reptile. He possessed no emotions, felt no sympathy, and wallowed in the suffering of others.

  She counted down the minutes as they neared the compound, and held her breath when it finally came into view. The surrounding area was empty except for the zombies lashed to their poles and the corpses scattered around.

  Her eyes fell on her uncle’s form, his mouth gnashing at the air with yellowed teeth in a scene straight from hell. Rebecca’s eldest son, he’d also been the only one of her children to survive the initial outbreak. He’d taken in Mpho and Rebecca, saving their lives numerous times. Until Ke Tau found us.

  She looked away and blinked back tears. At least now they’d be able to release him and grant him peace in the hereafter. A proper burial.

  Tallulah slowed to make a cautious approach and stopped in front of the entrance in the palisade fencing. It idled for a minute or two as the occupants surveyed it for danger. After a while, Ronnie cut the engine. The doors opened, and Lisa climbed out, followed by the rest.

  Max, Kirstin, Martin, and Caleb joined them while Michael and Mpho stayed behind, their truck the last in line and furthest away. As a non-combatant, Mpho wasn’t allowed to participate in the initial assault.

  Mpho craned her head to watch as they fanned out, each holding a gun. They slipped through the gates and into the compound’s grounds. Their figures dwindled as they approached the front doors of the building.

  It was too far away for her to make out any details, and she held her breath in the desperate hope that everything was okay. Michael reached over to grip her hand, and she flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Michael.”

  “I’m here for you.”

  After what seemed an eternity, Max and the rest returned. They were alone, and not a shot had been fired. Mpho frowned. “What’s going on? Where are the guards?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael replied, wearing a similar frown.

  As Max drew closer, the expression on his face caused her stomach to drop. “Something’s wrong.”

  Before Michael could stop her, she opened her door and slipped out to meet Max halfway.

  “Wait,” Michael called, but she ignored him as the sense of wrongness within her breast intensified.

  She stopped in front of Max with Michael one step behind. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Max stared at her, seemingly at a loss for words. “I’m sorry, Mpho, but…”

  “What?” she cried.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Tell me,” she urged, itching to tear the truth from his lips.

  “Your…they’re dead.”

  “Who? Who’s dead? Where’s Rebecca?” she asked.

  “All of them. They’re all dead,” Max said with an audible swallow.

  Mpho gasped and stumbled back into Michael’s waiting arms. He caught her, and she clung to him while her mind scrambled to catch up. “What do you
mean they’re all dead? They can’t be. It’s impossible.”

  “I’m sorry,” Max repeated, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.

  No!” She shook her head. “Where’s my grandmother? Where is she?”

  Without waiting for him to answer, she tore loose from Michael’s grasp and ran toward the compound. Her only thought was of her grandmother. She refused to believe, couldn’t allow herself to think that Rebecca was gone.

  “Mpho, no!” Max cried. “You mustn’t look! Stop her!”

  She ignored him and pushed her body harder. Her feet flew across the tar, echoed by Michael’s heavier tread as he tried to catch her. With the grace of a gazelle, she ducked around the grasping arms of those who heeded Max’s call. Her flight took her into the grounds and toward the front doors. Something caught her eyes, something attached to the….No!

  Mpho screamed as she fell to her knees in front of Rebecca’s corpse. The old lady was nailed to the wood by thick iron nails through her wrists and feet. Her head hung on her still chest, and dried blood crusted her lips. Her lower body was a wreck of raw flesh, bone, and innards; her stomach a gaping hole of emptiness with all her organs removed.

  At her feet lay two bodies, infected dispatched by Max’s team with swift stabs to their skulls. They’d found Rebecca during the night, and had feasted on her flesh until discovered.

  “No!” Mpho screamed again and again until her throat was raw, beating her fists against the concrete until smears of blood stained the ground. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  Michael grasped her by the shoulders, but she ignored him, her eyes fixed on her beloved grandmother’s face as she poured out her grief and rage at the world. He spoke in her ear, but she refused to listen.

  When, at last, he folded his arms around her and lifted her up, Mpho fought him. “Let me go! Leave me! No!”

  She scratched at his skin with her nails until he bled and kicked her legs in the air as she bucked, but his grip was like iron, and he carried her away without pause. Once her grandmother faded from view, despair set in, replacing the molten rage.