Dangerous Days (Book 2): Survive Another Day [Short Story Collection Vol. I]

by Higgins, Baileigh

  The remaining zom was now well out of sight, trying to climb over walls and fences his uncoordinated brain wasn't meant for. Nadia scurried across the lawn, hissing when she stepped into a hole, twisting her ankle. She pushed on, waddling on her sore leg like a penguin. Only when she was sure it was safe did she stop, crouching behind a bush, gasping for breath. As her heartbeat slowed and the fear receded, the precariousness of her position hit her.

  She was lost in a strange neighborhood far from her safe house. Her hands were injured. Even now as the rush of adrenalin wore off, fiery pain shot through her arms, screaming up her nerve-endings.

  The blood will draw more. I need to hide.

  A rustle of leaves to the left alerted her and Nadia scrambled to her feet, holding the hammer. In the pale light of the moon, two eyes shined yellow, staring at her with unblinking intensity. She swallowed, primal fear flooding her veins as every nerve screamed at her to run. Run from the monsters, hiding in the night, waiting to devour her soul. Her feet remained rooted to the spot. Running wouldn't help her now.

  Nadia tensed her muscles, gripping the hammer in her right hand despite the pain it caused as glass ground into her flesh. The eerie eyes never left her, following every move she made with predatory intensity. A cloud moved in front of the moon, drenching her in darkness and the glowing orbs disappeared. Seconds ticked by and the tension grew until the moon reappeared. Snarls sounded nearby and the yellow eyes blinked, a lithe figure jumping up onto the pre-con wall and disappearing into the night. All this time she'd been facing off against a cat, wasting time and allowing the zom to catch up.

  “Fuck,” she muttered below her breath, head whipping about as she looked for an escape route.

  Her eyes fell on the house whose yard she stood in, but she dismissed it. Too dangerous. She had no idea what waited inside, and the zom would follow. Doors didn't mean much to fresh infected. They were freakishly strong.

  Up.

  Go up.

  Nadia looked around cataloging and dismissing each option as it came.

  A minibus in the street; too low.

  The top of a garden shed; too flimsy.

  Rooftop of the nearest house; no way to reach it.

  The growls were coming closer and Nadia knew she'd be spotted soon. Her heart thrummed in her chest, adrenaline rushing through her veins as her body tensed, gearing up with its fight or flight response. She knew that neither would have a favorable outcome. Unable to find a place to climb up, she jogged across the yard, tripping on something in the dark. The fall alerted her pursuer.

  The snarls increased in volume.

  It was after her.

  Nadia went faster, pushing her body into a sprint, knowing she'd never last as her muscles burned with fatigue. Then her eyes fell on the carport. The roof!

  Her eyes flicked about, landing on a low boundary wall next to it. She grabbed the top, dragging her body up onto it, right boot searching for secure footing. She got up, balancing precariously on the top, arms windmilling for balance. Straightening, she gripped the edge of the tin roof and pulled, ignoring the tearing pain shredding her hands. Her arms screamed in protest, the muscles quivering with the strain. She'd never been the most athletic girl and now regretted it. The approaching sounds of the infected spurred her on, however.

  I'm not on the menu tonight.

  With a shuffle, Nadia edged sideways until she was next to the nearest pole. With a determined leap, she pushed off, getting her elbows over the edge, feet scrabbling against the pole for purchase until she was up and over. Just in time too as the zombie's fingers brushed the tip of her boot.

  She collapsed onto her back, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the stars above but not seeing them. Below, the infected scratched at the pillar, screeching its anger and frustration at her. Not long after, a second infected showed up. Then a third. She was attracting a crowd. Her immediate problem lay with her hands, though. It was too dark to see clearly but she saw enough by the silvery moonlight to tell her the damage was bad.

  Nadia slid the rucksack from her back, rummaging inside. She rinsed both hands with a bottle of water then spent the next twenty minutes picking out shards of glass. It hurt like a bitch and she couldn't get all of it out, especially the splinters. She bandaged the wounds with a pair of socks and swallowed a handful of painkillers. “Shit. This is an infection waiting to happen.”

  She lay back, using her pack for a pillow and waited for the pain to abate. Her mind whirled as she tried to think of a way out of her predicament. The roof was not the ideal place to spend the day. What she needed to treat her hands with, lay in her cellar. Besides, the sun would cook her until she resembled boiled beetroot.

  The pain in her hands did not lessen. It grew worse. “I know I shouldn't do this, but...” She swallowed more pills then wrapped another pair of socks over each palm as they'd bled through the flimsy bandages. Exhaustion dragged at her eyelids, the strain of the chase and the heavy dose of medicine taking its toll.

  With a sigh, Nadia curled up into a little ball. Her breath evened out, sleep claiming her tired body. Morning found her, still asleep, perched precariously close to the edge of the roof with one arm dangling down. Blood dripped down her fingers, each ruby red droplet sliding down to the tip where it swelled, dangled, then plopped down onto the face of the waiting infected below. It growled, licking up the blood as it eyed her fingers. She was so close. It could almost reach her.