Z-Minus Box Set [Books 1-3]

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Z-Minus Box Set [Books 1-3] Page 18

by Perrin Briar


  George stepped forward and tossed a shovelful of dirt onto the hastily, but lovingly, made casket six feet below. Lily squirmed, looking down into the dark hole below.

  “No!” she said. “No! Tiger!”

  Nathan put a hand on Lily’s shoulder. She quietened, letting the tears roll down her cheeks in silence. She buried her face in Nathan’s clothes. Soon, the casket was no longer visible, and the whole family began shovelling the dirt. George felt a little weak to his knees. He dabbed a handkerchief to his brow.

  “George,” Angie said. “Are you all right, George?”

  “I’m fine, darling,” he said. “I’m just getting too old for this.”

  “Sit down while we finish up.”

  George sat down, blowing out through his teeth. Another family member lost. The hole was not large, and it brought tears to George’s eyes to see it. With so many hands to do the work it didn’t take long to fill it. George turned and looked up at the barn behind him. A soft light glowed from between the slats in the roof.

  Z-MINUS: 7 HOURS 32 MINUTES

  “Hello?” George said, looking up the ladder that led to the ledge high in the barn.

  The soft candlelight gently swayed from side to side, making the shadows dance.

  “Are you there, Chris?” George said.

  “What do you want?” Chris’s voice said, the aggressive undertone hard to miss.

  “I thought you might like to have someone to talk to.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “All right,” George said, turning away. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “If there’s anything you can do?” Chris’s voice said. He laughed without mirth. “I think you’ve done enough already.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Chris appeared above, standing on the ledge’s edge, staring down at George like a Roman god about to pass judgment on a sinner.

  “You and your family drew them here,” he said.

  “We didn’t draw them here.”

  “They followed you. All this time we haven’t seen hardly any of them, and now suddenly there’s an army of them.”

  “You said yourself there’s been more of them recently.”

  “Not like this.”

  “They must have just wandered in here, that’s all.”

  “Mighty convenient.”

  “One of our girls is dead. I wouldn’t call that convenient,” George said, voice tight. “You’re angry. You don’t know what you’re saying. I’ll leave you in peace.”

  “You should have left us in peace from the start, then none of this would have happened!”

  “No,” George said, “they would have attacked anyway and you would have been left alone in protecting yourselves. They would have bitten you both.”

  “They wouldn’t have even been here if it wasn’t for you.”

  “They didn’t follow us here,” George said, “and we have proof. We searched their bodies. We checked their wallets and purses, their driving licenses. We found they all came from the same villages. We didn’t come within twenty miles of that area. They must have stumbled over here by accident somehow or something else drew them. But it wasn’t us.”

  Chris mulled this over, and a part of his anger dissipated.

  “Can I come up?” George said.

  Chris didn’t reply, and moved away, back onto the ledge. George climbed the ladder. He took each rung at a time. At the top, with his head poking over the ledge, he saw Maisie lying on her back, surrounded by candles. George continued to climb and stepped out onto the ledge. He stood beside Chris. Maisie’s face was calm and serene, like she was asleep. Her shoulder was covered with a thick layer of bandages.

  “Sleeping beauty,” George said. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s fine. Resting.”

  “How long do you think she has?”

  Chris checked his watch.

  “Seven and a half hours,” he said. “Maybe a bit more. Maybe less.”

  “We’ve cleared the area and my family are on lookout. The zombies won’t be bothering us for a while.”

  Chris didn’t reply.

  “I think you ought to come with me for a moment, take a walk and clear your head,” George said.

  “I’m staying here.”

  Chris knelt beside Maisie, dabbing her brow with a piece of cloth. She groaned and turned away.

  “She’s going to become one of them,” George said. “And when she does, you won’t be able to do what you need to do.”

  “I will. I just want to be with her for as long as possible.”

  George bit his bottom lip.

  “Let me take care of it,” he said. “I’ll do it quick so she won’t even notice.”

  “Is that what you did to Tiger?”

  “It had to be done. Why delay the inevitable?”

  “Because a few more hours of life is better than nothing.”

  “Not when the pain becomes unbearable. Believe me, I’ve seen it. And I’ve seen what happens when people don’t do it, and try to keep hold of their loved ones. She’s fighting a battle she has no hope of winning.”

  “Some people are immune. Maybe she’s one of them.”

  “Do you really want to put her through that? Give her that hope, only for it to be dashed when it doesn’t happen?”

  George knelt down beside Chris.

  “Do it now,” he said, “before she wakes up. Trust me, it’s easier on both of you this way.”

  George drew a knife he kept tucked behind his belt.

  “Plunge this into her heart,” he said. “End it now, before you can’t do it.”

  “Not now,” Chris said.

  “We can’t have her endangering the rest of us.”

  “She’s of no danger to you.”

  “There’s nothing you can do for her. End it. End it now, so there’s no chance of any weak heartedness later. I cannot risk the safety of this camp. Do it.”

  “No.”

  “Do it now,” George said, his voice hard as steel, “or I will.”

  Chris didn’t reply to him. George’s manner softened.

  “Would you like me to do it?” he said.

  “She’s not going to turn.”

  “Chris… She’s been bitten. She is going to turn.”

  “No, she won’t. I won’t let her.”

  George placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder.

  “There’s nothing you can do for her now,” he said. “Nothing but ease her transition into heaven.”

  “She’s got seven and a half hours left.”

  “Some of those might be painful for her.”

  Chris hung his head, his tears shimmering with tears.

  “I can’t let her die like this,” he said.

  “It’s better than letting her become one of those things. You must do this for her. She needs you to be strong. In a few hours she’ll turn and then there’ll be no going back. Enjoy what time you have left with her. Make it the best time you ever had. Then take her somewhere quiet, in the wood’s perhaps, and then do it. Can you do what needs to be done when the time comes?”

  Chris looked at Maisie’s sleeping face, angelic in the flickering candlelight.

  “I will,” he said.

  Maisie stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at her father and George standing over her, then at her surroundings.

  “Where am I?” she said. “What happened?”

  “You’re okay,” Chris said. “You’re in the barn.”

  “Did we beat them? Did we beat the zombies?”

  “Yes,” Chris said, stroking Maisie’s hair. “We beat them.”

  Maisie got up. She jerked and rubbed the muscles in her arms and legs.

  “My body hurts,” she said.

  “You did a lot of fighting, killed a lot of zombies from what I’ve heard,” Chris said with a smile.

  “Is everyone all right?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  M
aisie frowned with thought.

  “I remember fighting in the pig house,” she said, “and then…”

  Her eyes widened and she shot up into a sitting position.

  “Tiger got bitten!” she said. “Is she all right?”

  Chris helped Maisie to lie back down.

  “She’s fine now,” George said. “She’s… resting.”

  “And then I remember Angie came and saved us,” Maisie said, “and we were running, I went back to help Shane, and then we kept running and…”

  She frowned in confusion and raised her hand to the bandage on her shoulder. She flinched back and sucked in air between her teeth.

  “And then I fainted,” she said.

  She looked up at her father.

  “What happened then?” Maisie said. “Did they… Did they…?”

  Her eyes filled with tears and shimmered, turning chestnut brown.

  “Sh-sh-sh-sh,” Chris said, taking her in his arms and kissing her on the forehead. “Nothing happened. A tree branch fell on you, that’s all. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Maisie hugged her father tight.

  “I thought maybe they bit me,” she said.

  “No,” Chris said. “They didn’t bite you.”

  George, sensing he was encroaching on a private moment, backed away, climbed down the ladder, and left.

  Z-MINUS: 7 HOURS 21 MINUTES

  A pot bubbled over the fire, delicious scents of vegetables and meat wafting from it. Angie added some chopped spring onions and wild herbs she’d found in the woods. The Joneses sat to one side watching with hungry eyes, bowls in hand. Maisie came running up to Angie.

  “That smells good!” Maisie said.

  “Thank you,” Angie said with a smile. “It’s just a stew, but it’ll fill a hole.”

  Maisie rolled up her sleeves.

  “Can I help?” she said.

  “Uh…” Angie said, eyes flicking to the bandage on Maisie’s shoulder.

  “There’s nothing much more we have to do,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  Maisie leaned over the pot to breathe the smell in deeper, but before she could, Angie put the lid on the pot.

  “To keep in the heat,” she said.

  “Oh, okay,” Maisie said.

  She saw Danny and Lily sitting to one side, small bowls in their hands.

  “Hey Danny. Hey Lily,” she said. “Would you guys like to play a game?”

  Lily backed away, tucking herself behind Danny.

  “I don’t think we should,” Danny said. “We’re about to eat lunch.”

  “After lunch, then?”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Maisie turned to find the adult Joneses staring at her. Nathan spat, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. Maisie drifted away to a pool of mud. She sat down, her back to the Joneses, and put her hands into the mud. She squeezed it between her fingers, enjoying the feel. She took a handful and began to shape it into a thick circle shape. She put it to one side and began to fashion another.

  “Hey,” Shane said. “What’re you doing?”

  “Just making mud pies.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Sure,” Maisie said, not even trying to disguise her glee.

  Shane sat down next to her and got his hands dirty.

  “Have you made these before?” Maisie said.

  “A long time ago.”

  They were silent a moment. The mud made farting noises as they pressed it into shape.

  “How are you now?” Shane said.

  “Fine. How are you?”

  Shane shrugged. They carried on making mud pies.

  “You know,” Shane said, “when I was little, Danny made some mud pies. I hadn’t seen one before and I asked him what it tasted like. He pointed to each one and said a different flavour. ‘This one’s apple, this one cherry, that one, banana.’ I asked if I could have one. He said, ‘Sure.’ So, I picked up the cherry flavoured one and bit into it. I spat it out and was almost sick. Danny laughed, and I threw the rest of the pie at him.”

  “That’s evil,” Maisie said.

  Shane shrugged.

  “It’s what older brothers do, I guess,” he said. “Just goes to show, you can never tell what’s on the inside by looking at the outside.”

  “Maisie,” Chris said, crouching down beside them. “Let’s go check the traps.”

  “It’s a bit early. There won’t be much.”

  “Let’s go check them anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  Maisie got to her feet and brushed off her hands. Shane looked from Chris to Maisie and back again.

  “I can go with you, if you like,” he said.

  “I think it’s best if we go on our own,” Chris said.

  “Shall we put our armour on?” Maisie said.

  “No,” Chris said. “I don’t think we’ll need it today.”

  “Okay.”

  Shane eyed Chris without blinking, holding the mud in his hands without shaping it. Chris and Maisie entered the forest.

  They walked deeper and deeper into the wood until the campsite was no longer visible, and the only sounds were the birds in the trees and the crunch of undergrowth beneath their feet. Chris held onto Maisie’s hand. It was small and soft. She flinched and itched at the bandages on her shoulder.

  “Why does it itch?” Maisie said.

  “The branch had poison ivy on it.”

  “Poison?”

  “It’s not dangerous. Just a bit itchy.”

  “And a bit sore. Feels like it’s burning.”

  They came to a tree with a notch carved into it. Chris eyed the ground and found the rabbit run, and then the trap.

  “Why don’t you go make sure the trap’s still there?” Chris said.

  “All right.”

  Maisie went over to the trap and bent down, her small hands working at the wire. Chris unhooked the axe from his belt. It felt heavy.

  Maisie looked so small. She turned and looked back at him with a smile on her face.

  “I think it’s good,” she said.

  Chris, his expression grim, stepped up behind her.

  Z-MINUS: 7 HOURS 5 MINUTES

  A flock of crows took flight and flew into the air, cawing.

  George swallowed the last of his stew and watched the birds circle overhead. He put his bowl on the table and looked out at the woods. Chris emerged, and George felt his body relax with relief. He did it! He walked over to join Chris.

  “Well done, Chris,” he said. “I know it can’t have been easy, but my boys will do the rest-”

  Maisie came running out of the woods, carrying a rabbit on a length of string.

  “Look what I caught, George!” she said, raising the rabbit high in the air. “Look!”

  “I see it,” George said, eyeing Chris. “Why don’t you take it to Angie? She’ll start getting it cooked for tonight. There’s a good girl.”

  Maisie took off toward the camp at a run. George shook his head.

  “You should have let me do it,” he said.

  “No. Nobody is going to do it.”

  Chris walked toward the barn, determination in every step.

  “You should do it now,” George said, “before she starts to feel the pain. I’ve seen what happens to people who get bit. I don’t want that for your little girl.”

  “It’s not going to happen to her,” Chris said.

  “I told you, there’s nothing you can do when it’s in her system-”

  “There’s a cure.”

  “What cure?”

  “The one you told me about. The one in London.”

  “That’s just a rumour.”

  “From multiple sources. There might be some truth to it.”

  “You can’t hang all your hopes on some rumours we heard along the road!”

  “If I don’t, what else am I supposed to do? Kill the only member of my family that’s still alive? No. I can’t do it, and I won’t let you do it either. The
re’s a cure. At the Saint Bart’s research facility.”

  “It’s eighty miles away. You’ll never make it in time.”

  “I will if you give me one of your cars.”

  George shook his head.

  “I can’t do that,” he said. “You’d be heading to your death.”

  “What difference is it to you?”

  “It’s a lost car. That’s the difference.”

  Chris entered the barn and began to put on his fighting gear, beginning with the shin, knee and elbow pads.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” George said.

  “I’m baking a cake. What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “You’re making a mistake. There’s nothing out there for you.”

  “There’ll be nothing for me if I don’t try either.”

  Chris slipped on his armour.

  “Listen to an old man,” George said. “Spend what time you’ve got left with your girl. Have the best day of your life with her, then end it.”

  “She hasn’t got a day,” Chris said, checking his watch. “She’s got seven hours.”

  “You've got seven hours before the virus passes the point of no return. Then, you have to kill her anyway. Don’t do that to yourself. Just think about what you’re saying. You have to cross eighty miles of zombie-infested land. Then, you’re going to head into one of the largest concentrations of zombies in the world – London. Then you have to actually get to the facility and convince them to let you in! It’ll be like Fort Knox. And then you have to convince them to give your daughter the cure – if there is one. All within seven hours.”

  Chris checked his watch and set an alarm.

  “Six hours fifty-eight minutes,” he said.

  “It’s madness.”

  “I’ll never get there if I don’t try. I know that.”

  Chris shouldered his bag and headed toward the door.

  “These are pipe dreams,” George said. “You yourself said they won’t have the cure now.”

  “That was before Maisie was bitten. That was before I stood to lose everything I care about in this world.”

 

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