Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  Dee nodded and pushed her plate away. “Thanks, Ryan. I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, Ry,” Jonathan added, slapping him on the back. “There’ll be lots more raids in the future. You’ll get to have your fun.”

  Cat frowned into her teacup as she digested Jonathan’s words. The morrow’s raid would be neither fun nor easy. They could easily die. It disturbed her that Jonathan was so blasé about it. I’d better keep an eye on him. Both eyes at all times, or he might just be the end of us.

  The Pledge - Chapter 2

  The next day, Cat prepared herself for action. Though she wasn’t allowed to carry a gun yet, she did outfit her belt with a solid hammer, and a hunting knife in a sheath that Dee gifted her.

  “It used to be my dad’s,” Dee said, handing over the stained leather with a bone handle sticking out. “It’s good quality. The best.”

  “Thanks,” Cat said, examining the sharp blade before sliding it onto her belt. “I appreciate it.”

  “Just look after it. That’s all I ask,” Dee said with a sad smile.

  “Of course,” Cat replied. “I’ll guard it well.”

  Jonathan hefted an ax in a two-handed grip, looking like the cat that got the cream. “This’ll do.”

  Ryan held a shotgun in both hands, a grim look on his face before proclaiming in a sonorous voice, “Just come back in one piece, okay? All of you.”

  “Yes, Sir Ry,” Jonathan replied with a grin.

  This prompted giggles from the kids who ran around chanting, “Sir Ryan,” and Cat was afraid the boy had earned a new nickname. “Hush, Tessa, Juan. Come to say goodbye.”

  They dutifully trotted over, and Cat gave them each a big hug followed by Lucy and Kerry as well. Once the farewells were made, she straightened up and patted her bun in place. A final check ensured that she had her inhaler in her pocket.

  Dee still carried the Beretta she had taken from the policeman’s corpse, now freshly loaded with bullets from her dad’s stash, and they all wore protective clothing made of thick material that covered their limbs in full.

  “Ready?” Dee asked, raising her eyebrows.

  “Yup,” Cat said, followed by Jonathan who was all white teeth and eager energy.

  They climbed into the old truck that used to belong to Dee’s dad, and after a few chugs, it roared to life. Dee smiled and patted the wheel. “She might be old, but my dad looked after her.”

  “Yeah? Who’d have thought?” Jonathan grumbled as they pulled away in a cloud of white smoke that puffed from the exhaust. “Can’t be that great if the damn thing smokes this much.”

  Dee shot him a nasty look. “Shut up, Jonathan.”

  He pulled a face and mimed her words back at her while Cat tried to ignore them both and focus on the area outside the cab, instead. She had no desire to be caught unawares by a zombie again. The ugly things had a way of showing up when least expected, and she held her breath when Ryan opened the gates for them. There was nothing there, though. No boogie man to pounce on them, no zombies to chomp them, and she relaxed.

  The kids stood clustered next to the house, waving in the rearview mirror, and she waved back until she could no longer see them. The little buggers had crawled into her heart, and already, she missed them more than she thought possible. This raid was for them, though. For their future and survival.

  “Any thoughts on where we’re going?” she asked, shifting in her seat. Squashed in between Dee and Jonathan, she had precious little space and one leg was lifted over the other in a move worthy of a gymnast to allow free changing of the gears.

  “There’s a trade store on a neighboring farm,” Dee added with a nod. “It’s always been well-stocked and carries a variety of goods. Plus, it’s out of town, so fewer zombies.”

  “Okay, it sounds pretty good,” Cat replied, but something in Dee’s expression made her think twice. “What’s the catch?”

  “The catch?” Dee asked, her face bland and innocent. “There’s no catch.”

  “Yeah, right. What’s wrong with this place?” Cat pressed.

  Dee sighed and shook her head. “Nothing. It’s everything I said, except…”

  “Except what?” Jonathan asked, shifting in his seat.

  “I know these people, okay?” Dee said. “They’re family friends, and the thought of them being zombies makes me sick.”

  Cat chewed her bottom lip as she considered Dee’s words. “Are you sure it’s the best place to go in that case? You might hesitate.”

  “It’s close and the safest as far as numbers go,” Dee replied. “Besides, they might be okay. The infection might not have reached there yet.”

  “That’s a pipe dream,” Jonathan said, “and you know it.”

  Cat secretly agreed with him but shot him a glare anyway. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Like what?” he jeered. “Realistic?”

  “Like an asshole,” Cat replied. “You don’t have to be so nasty about everything all the time.”

  “Well, excuse me if I don’t care about protecting your feelings. It’s the zombie apocalypse, not pretty princesses and rainbows time.”

  “Okay, Mr. I’m too Macho to be nice, but remember that next time you’re cornered by a bunch of zombies with no one around to save your ass but the pretty princesses,” Cat said through gritted teeth.

  Dee flashed her an approving look over Jonathan’s head, while he snorted before leaning sideways to stare out the window with a muttered, “Whatever.”

  The rest of the drive passed in uncomfortable silence until they reached a big wooden sign announcing the next farm, Green Creek Farm. It was faded by the sun and rain, tilting slightly to the left, and like everything else, it added to the atmosphere of abandonment brought on by the apocalypse.

  A short driveway led to a locked gate, and Dee rolled the car to a stop before getting out. She tested the chain before letting it drop. “What now?”

  “Make way, amateurs,” Jonathan said, shouldering past Cat with a set of bolt cutters in his hands. He clipped through the chain with a grunt, smiling when the padlock fell to the ground. “There see? Easy as pie.”

  When Cat glared at him, he smirked and sauntered back, putting the tool into the truck. Together, she and Dee rolled open the entrance before driving through.

  Empty fields of dried hay lay on the left while rows of harvested maize stretched to the right. These were replaced by green meadows and patches of recently planted sunflowers. Their faces were tilted up toward the sun, yellow petals glinting in the morning light.

  What struck Cat as odd were the empty paddocks. There were no horses. No sheep or cattle. Strange for a farm unless…

  “Is this a working farm, Dee?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Where are all the animals?”

  “Um…I don’t know,” Dee admitted. “There used to be a bunch.”

  “How many people live and work here?” Cat asked, her eyes roving over the abandoned fields.

  “Quite a lot. Thirty or forty, maybe.” Dee’s voice had dropped to an uncertain timbre as she sensed what Cat already had.

  Danger.

  “I think we’d best prepare ourselves for trouble,” Cat said. “I don’t see any people or animals.”

  “So what if there aren’t any? They’re either hiding or they’re zombies,” Jonathan said, brows furrowed in confusion.

  “If they’re hiding it’s not a problem at all, though I doubt it judging by the absence of animals,” Cat pointed out. “You see, if the people here are infected, they’ll have eaten all the animals.”

  “Yeah, so? I still don’t see the issue,” Jonathan insisted. “We were expecting zombies, weren’t we?”

  “Yes, but not so many, and definitely not all of them clustered together which I hope to God they’re not.” Cat suppressed a shudder as she imagined the farm workers and family becoming infected, killing each other, turning on the animals, and finally, gathering somewhere just waiting for unsuspecting victims like
themselves to waltz in and be swarmed.

  Dee pulled the truck to a halt and turned toward Cat, pinning her with a steady gaze. “All right. Say they have all turned, and they’ve killed the animals, what now? Do you want to go back? To town, maybe?”

  “Maybe,” Cat said. “I mean, thirty or forty zombies between the three of us? What if we’re swarmed?”

  “There will be a lot more zoms in town, Cat,” Dee said. “We stand a better chance out here in the open.”

  “I know, but…” Cat hesitated, unwilling to admit that now they were here, she was scared.

  “It’s okay, Cat. You’ll be fine.”

  “What is this? Therapy hour?” Jonathan jeered. “Can’t we just get on with this?”

  Dee blew out a breath, her cheeks reddening. “Will you shut up for once? Besides, she’s got a point. We don’t want to get swarmed.”

  “What do you propose then? We hold them a tea party and invite them over?” Jonathan asked, his eyebrows lifting.

  “No, stupid. We use our brains and lure them into the open,” Dee hissed.

  “All right,” he said, folding his arms. “Go for it. What’s the plan?”

  “Simple. We make a ton of noise. When the zoms come running, I’ll shoot as many as I can. You pick off the ones that get too close.”

  “What if there’s too many for us to take on?” Cat asked.

  “Jump into the truck, and I’ll get us out of here,” Dee answered.

  Cat thought it over. The plan was plain but workable. They’d have the car as a backup escape route and Dee’s gun. Plus they were out in the open. Nowhere for the buggers to hide.

  Jonathan tapped his foot, jiggling his ax up and down. “Would you make up your mind, please? I mean, we’re young and strong. We can do this. We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

  Dee nodded. “We have, and the kids depend on us. Without this food, they’ll starve. We’re in the apocalypse, Cat, and it’s not going to go away. Ever. Might as well face it head on.”

  Cat squeezed her eyes shut. They were right. Both of them. If she wanted to survive…more, if she wanted the children to survive, she’d have to face her fears and overcome them. Time to man up or shut up.

  Her eyes flashed open, and she hefted the hammer in her right hand with a firm grip. “Okay. I’m with you guys all the way. Let’s do this.”

  Dee grinned and performed a fist pump. “Yes!”

  Jonathan took a practice swing with his weapon, a broad grin on his face. “Time to kick some zombie ass!”

  With whoops and yells, they turned to face the collected buildings of the farm in the distance, each of them filled with the bravado that comes with youth. They were invincible. Undefeated. Alive.

  The Pledge - Chapter 3

  After driving a bit closer to the main buildings, Dee turned the truck around in case they needed a quick getaway. This left them with a straight shot up the road and through the gates.

  “Ready for this, guys?” Dee asked.

  “Hell, yeah,” Jonathan replied, jumping out and running to the back of the truck. There he picked a spot in the middle of the open dirt lane, hefting his ax like it was a war staff. “I’m ready to take down some zoms.”

  With the keys still in the ignition, Dee climbed out, checked the load on her gun and took a solid shooting stance. She cracked her neck and wiggled her hips before flashing Cat a smile. “Go time?”

  After taking a deep breath, Cat positioned herself next to her open door, prepared to jump in at a moment’s notice. She lifted her weapon in readiness and nodded. “Go.”

  Dee reached into the cab with one hand and pressed the horn. It blared out into the still morning air with the braying tones of a lovesick donkey. Once, twice, three times.

  Cat winced but kept her stance steady. Her fingers clenched and unclenched around the handle of the hammer. Sweat beaded on her forehead and palms. Butterflies flitted around her stomach. Please, don’t puke. Please, don’t puke.

  “Holy crap, here they come,” Jonathan cried out, yanking her gaze toward the jerky figures emerging from the farm buildings.

  They were infected. No doubt about it. Their awkward gaits and ungainly movements branded them as such. Guttural snarls and growls reached her ears, along with the first whiff of rot. She wrinkled her nose and swallowed on the bile that pushed up her throat. “Great. Just great. A bunch of stinkers.”

  Jonathan grinned over his shoulder. “I bet you their heads explode like melons when you whack them hard enough.”

  Cat gagged, her nausea rising to the forefront. “Dude, come on!”

  “What?” he replied with a shrug.

  “Just stay out of my way, Jonathan, unless you want a bullet up your ass,” Dee warned with a shake of her head.

  “Yes, Mom,” he replied before turning back to the approaching zombies.

  Cat used the precious few seconds left to fumble for her inhaler and take a shot. It helped her breathe, and her stomach calmed down a bit. “I can do this.”

  A few tense seconds followed as Dee waited for the undead to come within firing range. When she squeezed off her first shot, the infected woman was already too close for comfort, but Dee’s aim was excellent, and the snarling woman fell to the ground. A teen boy was right behind her, and it took three more bullets to put him down. Dee fired twice more, taking a man and another woman down, then the zoms were too close to rely on the gun anymore.

  With a wild yell, Jonathan launched into battle, swinging his ax like a madman. Dee reloaded her gun while he went at it, chopping into arms, legs, and shoulders with reckless abandon.

  Cat shook her head in amazement. Or horror. She wasn’t sure which. Blood sprayed in all directions, but for all the damage Jonathan was meting out, he wasn’t actually killing any of the infected. He’s going to get himself eaten!

  She jumped forward and slammed her hammer down on the forehead of a man who’d latched onto Jonathan’s shirt. He was leaning in for a bite when she whacked him, and his skull split open to reveal a mess of brain matter and bone.

  Cat never paused, yanking her weapon away to bash in the next one’s forehead, a girl with long blonde hair. The blow staved in her head like a mushrooming cloud, and her eyes popped from their sockets as she screeched. She fell to the ground, head lolling on her shoulders while Cat stared in horror.

  Sharp fingernails grazed Cat’s cheek, drawing blood and pulling her back to the present. She whipped around and found herself face to face with a young man, the skin on his cheek flapping open to reveal a set of perfect pearly teeth.

  She lashed out and hit him a glancing blow on the shoulder which he ignored, slashing at her face again. Cat ducked, then fell back with a thump as he tackled her. She fell hard, the breath leaving her lungs in a woosh. His body wriggled on top of hers like a worm while his fetid breath washed across her face.

  His hands were everywhere, clawing at her neck and face with murderous intent. Teeth snapped at her bare skin, and Cat cried out as she jammed the hammer’s handle between his jaws.

  She tried to push him off, but he was too strong, and his fingers ripped her jacket to shreds. Pain lanced through her side when his nails met skin, and she bucked her hips to try and unseat him. He clung like a limpet, his efforts overwhelming hers as her strength leeched away on a tide of despair. Death loomed before her, smirking with grim satisfaction as it dragged her soul closer to the edge of oblivion. “No!”

  A loud boom caused Cat’s ears to sing, and suddenly she was free of his weight. Hands reached down to drag her to her feet, and she stumbled away on numb legs. Her body hit the side of the truck, and she sucked in a shuddering breath. Fierce agony flared through her rib cage with each lungful of oxygen, and warm blood trickled down her side.

  Dee pointed her gun at the remaining infected coming their way, a trio of zoms, and took them out in quick succession while Jonathan hacked apart another one crawling on the ground. Bodies were strewn about, and copious amounts of blood soaked the gr
ound.

  Cat bent over and retched when the coppery tang hit her nose and coated her tongue. Her stomach heaved until it was empty and she was able to straighten up. With the tail end of her shirt, she wiped her mouth before taking a hit from her inhaler.

  Dee’s frightened face appeared before her. “Are you okay, Cat? Did he bite you?”

  Cat shook her head, wincing as she pressed a hand to her side. “No, he didn’t. He scratched me, though.”

  “Let me see.”

  Cat lifted her torn clothes, exposing her midriff. Deep gouges ran along the length of it, leaking blood. It was painful and raised in ridges, but not deadly.

  “Oh, he got you good,” Dee said. “Hold on. I’ll fetch the first-aid kit.”

  “Thanks,” Cat said, leaning against the car with a grateful sigh.

  Jonathan was going from one body to the other making sure they were really dead. His face wore an expression of glee, and his skin was coated with a fine mist of scarlet droplets.

  When he’d performed his grisly task, he sauntered over to join her by the truck. His eyes fell to her bloodstained shirt and narrowed. “Did you get bitten?”

  “No. I got scratched,” she replied, though she was itching to say a lot more than that. Dee returned at that moment, carrying a small first-aid kit. She soaked a bit of gauze in antiseptic and pressed it to Cat’s wounds, eliciting a pained yell from her. “Ow!”

  “Hold still,” Dee admonished. “We can’t risk infection.”

  “I know,” Cat replied, gritting her teeth as Dee scraped the cuts clean with the harsh fluid. She was anything but gentle, and by the time the wounds were bandaged, they felt like they were on fire.

  “Here, drink this,” Dee said afterward, handing her a bottle of water and a couple of painkillers.

  “Thanks,” Cat said, accepting the items with alacrity. The cool liquid was a relief to her parched mouth, and the pills wouldn’t take long to kick in, that she knew from experience.

  Dee stared at the bodies on the ground. “Good job everyone. I think we got them all.”