Gen Z Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Julia! No!” Chas cried, reaching out a futile hand to the spot where her friend had been. She couldn’t see any of them. Not Alvarez. Not Sanchez. Not a single guard.

  They were gone.

  Buried.

  Chapter 19 - Julia

  Julia wiped away the sweat that poured into her eyes, the salt stinging the fragile membranes. She aimed with her rifle and poured a hail of bullets into the oncoming horde. There was no end to them. No matter how many she killed, they just kept coming. At that moment, she remembered Chas’ words. An ocean of death. That’s what they are.

  She remembered the moments before the barrier broke with intense clarity. The scrape of mortar on brick. The crumble of concrete. The whine of steel across rock. The groan of wooden timbers cracking beneath the immense weight of the infected pressing against them. Thousands upon thousands of bodies, pushing, always pushing.

  The walls of the old infirmary collapsed, taking with it all the rubble, steel, and containers stacked upon it. The weak point in the barrier. The place where the zombies finally broke through after weeks and weeks of waiting.

  Julia remembered screaming to the last survivors to get to the mine. She remembered Alvarez, Sanchez, and a handful of guards taking a stand with her. Fighting. Shooting. Trying to keep the horde from getting to the people they’d sworn to protect.

  They succeeded.

  Mostly.

  A knot of infected got through somehow and gave chase.

  Julia also remembered the screams of the survivors in the shaft. The crackle of the radio as Alvarez warned Captain Williams of the coming threat. The last survivors leaving the safe zone that had now become a dead zone.

  Their retreat was less clear in her memory. It was a blur of running, shooting, kicking, punching, and killing anything that didn’t have a pulse. Inside the lifts, there was the rich tang of blood, the sight of pale flesh, and the fresh corpses of those they’d failed. That she had failed.

  There was no time to use the lift themselves. Not with the horde upon their heels. They each tore off their jackets, wrapped it around the metal cables of the lift, and slid to the bottom. Not a moment too soon either.

  The thud of bodies hitting the ground made Julia look up. The horde didn’t care about lifts or cables. They just cared about flesh. One by one, they plunged down the open shaft, falling to their mutilation or death.

  It was surreal.

  Perfect.

  They’d wanted to lure the infected into the mine.

  Now it was raining zombies.

  It could almost be funny if it wasn’t so sad. All those bodies, people once. Mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters. Monsters now.

  Julia, Alvarez, Sanchez, and the rest backed away, watching as the fall continued. The horde was killing itself. Then Julia noticed something alarming. The drop didn’t kill them anymore. Not the ones on top anyway. Their fellow undead was providing a cushion, a mattress to break their headlong rush to the bottom of the shaft.

  Within moments, Julia and the rest were running again. As they neared the entrance, Julia could see the faces of soldiers peering at them over their sandbags. Wide-eyed. Frightened. And who wouldn’t be? For behind them was a wall of death.

  Captain Williams gave the order. She saw him do it. Saw him make a split decision between their lives and all the rest. She didn’t blame him. She would’ve done the same.

  The earth shook, and the walls quaked. Rocks rained down, and dust obscured her vision. It’s too late for us. We’ll never make it. We’ll be buried with the dead.

  But Julia kept running, placing one foot after the other.

  Sanchez was on her left.

  Alvarez to her right.

  A couple of guards were right behind her.

  A stone glanced off her scalp.

  Another hit her shoulder.

  She kept running.

  Suddenly, they were out in the clean air, out of the mine. The rest of the shaft collapsed behind them, taking the zombies with it. Soldiers surrounded them, leading them away from the site.

  Julia coughed, hacking up the dust that filled her lungs. Blood trickled down her face, and her shoulder ached. She’d never felt more alive.

  Sanchez grinned at her, teeth white against her dirty skin. Julia imagined she looked the same. Alvarez squeezed her injured shoulder. She didn’t care. The two guards stumbled away. The rest…the rest didn’t make it, and she’d never forget them.

  But, she was alive.

  Alive.

  Epilogue

  Chas allowed Liam to help her upright, propping her up against the cushions into a seated position. It was two days since the evacuation, and she still had a lot of pain. Luckily, the bullet had gone straight through, missing any vital organs.

  Nurse Inge frowned as she took her vitals, jotting them onto a chart. “I really hope this is the last time I see you, dear. No offense.”

  Chas laughed. “None taken.”

  After Nurse Inge left, Liam took her hand in his, careful not to disturb the drip stuck in her vein. “Never mind her. I want to see more of you. A lot more.”

  Chas blushed. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Really.”

  “Ooh, am I missing something?” Emily cried as she skipped over to Chas’ bedside. “Are you two an item now?”

  Chas didn’t pull her hand away, looking at Liam with raised eyebrows instead. “Are we?”

  “We are,” he confirmed, his smile forming dimples in his cheeks. Dimples Chas hoped she’d never get to see enough of.

  Vanessa followed Emily, snickering with delight. “Looks like Chas has been busy in here.”

  Dean drew her closer to him. “Jealous?”

  Vanessa leaned against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

  “Ugh. Enough already,” Julia groaned. She was lying in the bed next to Chas, her shoulder and head wrapped in bandages. “All this romance is making me sick.”

  Everybody laughed until Grumps, Lala, and Vivienne walked in, joined soon after by Alvarez and Sanchez.

  “How are you doing, hun?” Lala asked, squeezing Chas’ other hand.

  “I’m okay, Lala. How are you feeling?” Chas asked.

  “Much better now that I’m back with your grandfather. He’ll make me quite fat if he keeps on feeding me so well,” Lala answered, moving to stand next to Grumps again. She crooked a finger at Chas. “But I’m still mad at you for running away, hun.”

  “So am I, young lady. Once you’re out of here, we’re having a nice, long talk about responsibility. We were worried sick about you the entire time,” Vivienne said.

  Chas grimaced. “Grumps? Any help over here?”

  Grumps raised both hands. “I might be the leader of this community, but I’m not the boss in this family. They are.”

  “Coward,” Chas said with a chuckle.

  Vivienne glared at Liam and Chas’ intertwined hands. “Did I give you permission to hold my daughter’s hand?”

  Liam grew beetroot red and stuttered something unintelligible, quickly snatching his hand away. “Uh, erm…”

  Chas rolled her eyes. “Mom!”

  Vivienne shrugged. “Just doing my duty, dear. You know I wouldn’t let you see just any boy.”

  “Liam is not just any boy, Mom. Give him a chance,” Chas pleaded.

  Vivienne sniffed. “We’ll see.”

  Nurse Inge walked over, clipboard in hand. “Good Lord, where did all of you come from? Visiting hours is not an excuse to crowd my infirmary. It’s like a disco in here.”

  Vivienne eyed Nurse Inge with approval before saying, “Do you need any help, perhaps? I’m a qualified nurse.”

  “Oh? In that case, yes. I could certainly use another set of capable hands,” Nurse Inge said, ushering Vivienne away.

  Chas sighed. “That’s Mom for you.”

  “Indeed,” Lala said with a laugh.

  “I need to go see my mother anyway,” Vanessa said. “She’s getting much better now with proper care and f
ood. See you later, Chas.”

  “Bye,” Chas said with a wave of her hand.

  “I’ve got to run too,” Emily said. “I’m supposed to help my mom in the kitchen today.”

  “Have fun,” Chas said with a grin. She knew Emily hated cooking.

  “Wait until it’s your turn,” Emily promised. “You won’t be laughing so hard then.”

  She walked away with that jaunty step that was so unique to her, leaving Chas with a fond smile. “I really do have the weirdest friends.”

  “You do,” Liam agreed, pointing at Alvarez and Sanchez.

  They were crowded around Julia, poking and prodding her until she cried for mercy. “Ouch! That hurts!”

  “At least, you’re still alive,” Sanchez said.

  “No thanks to you,” Julia grumbled. “Buzz off. I’m enjoying my time away from you lot.”

  “Hmph. We’ll see about that,” Alvarez said. “You’d better be back on your feet soon, soldier.”

  “You heard your superior officer,” Sanchez agreed.

  “Whatever,” Julia mumbled, but her eyes were sparkling.

  Alvarez gave Chas a pointed look before he left. “You too, miss. No more crazy plans and shenanigans from you. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Sanchez winked at Chas. “Ignore him. Crazy is good.”

  Once they were all gone, Chas looked at her grandfather. “So, Grumps. What’s next now that we’re all together again?”

  “What’s next? We rebuild, of course,” he said.

  “Can we do that?” Chas asked, sober for the moment.

  “Oh, yes, we can. One brick at a time. As long as we all stick together,” he said, giving Lala a firm hug.

  “Good,” Chas said.

  “Get some more rest now, hun,” Lala said. “You’re still a bit pale.”

  “Will do, Lala. Love you.”

  “Love you too, hun.”

  Silence fell as the last visitor walked away, leaving Chas, Julia, and Liam behind. Chas sighed. “Anyone up for a game of Uno?”

  Julia groaned. “Is that the only game we’ve got? Seriously, how many times can a person play Uno and not get sick of it?”

  “Sorry,” Liam said, shuffling the deck. “It’s all we’ve got.”

  “Fine. Uno it is.”

  “I’ll play you my cookies for your chips,” Chas offered.

  “I’ll throw in a soda,” Liam said.

  “Deal,” Julia said. “Gimme those cards and prepare to eat my dust, losers.”

  Chas laughed, long and hard. She’d never felt better in her life, even after being shot. Life was good as long as you had three things — Hope, friends, and family.

  The End.

  This is the end of the adventure for Chas and her friends, but I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Turn the page for lots more apocalyptic fun!

  Do you want more?

  So we’ve reached the end of the Gen Z collection, and I really hope you enjoyed reading the series as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review as that makes it so much easier for an author like me to reach more readers like yourself and to keep writing.

  And, there’s plenty more where this came from. If you enjoyed this series, why not check out my other books on my Amazon Page? I have numerous completed series, boxed sets, and plenty more projects planned for the future. You can view it all right here: https://www.amazon.com/Baileigh-Higgins/e/B01LYMGFUG/

  Plus, I’ve included a sneak peek at one my projects, The Death’s Children Collection right here: Available Here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07F78TPP2

  Chapter 1 - Cat’s Eye

  “Catherine Thompson. Please pay attention in my class unless you want detention.”

  The shrill peal of Mrs. Marais’ voice cut through the haze of boredom surrounding Cat, and she straightened up in her seat amidst snickers from her classmates.

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she replied with a respectful, “Yes, Ma’am.” The last thing she needed on a Friday afternoon was detention.

  Forty-five excruciating minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Benches and chairs scraped across the floor as kids ran for the exit, jostling each other in their haste to get out. Cat imagined it looked a lot like a prison break.

  She took the time to fish her phone out of her bag first and checked her messages. Three from Chris, her boyfriend, one from her best friend, Nadia, and a voicemail from her mother. On auto-pilot, Cat slung her school bag over her shoulder, picked up her hockey stick and walked out of class while checking Chris’ texts. They were pretty generic. Standard stuff for a Friday.

  “Hey, babes. What’s up?”

  Little kissy faces.

  “Wanna come over tonight?”

  Cat sighed. Instead of butterflies in her stomach, all she felt was leaden dread. For her, the relationship with Chris had soured after the fifth weekend spent watching rugby with his friends.

  The entire time was passed glued to the edge of the couch next to Chris and his buddies. They’d cheer and shout enthusiastically at the TV, discussing the score and players during half-time, while she sipped on the homemade lemonade his mom forced down her throat.

  Her thumb flew over the keys as she replied. “Maybe next time. Got things to do.”

  Next, she checked Nadia’s message. “Hey, Cat. How’s it going, girlfriend? Have you seen the stuff on YouTube? People are going crazy about it. Freaky Friday!”

  Cat frowned. She hadn’t looked at her phone all day. By rights, she wasn’t even allowed to take it to school but had put it on silent and hidden it at the bottom of her bag.

  Her feet carried her out of the gates of High School Kroonstad. After crossing the busy street filled with irate parents and happy kids, she set off for home. She lived only three blocks from the school, so her mom had decreed that she walk every day. Cat didn’t mind, though. She liked the solitude.

  Cat sent Nadia a reply. “What stuff? Haven’t seen a thing. By the way, can you come visit this December holiday?”

  “Check YouTube and Facebook. Crazy stuff! It’s all over SA and even overseas. As for a holiday, no can do, sister. My mom’s been kinda out of it lately, and Dickhead bitched about the money for the bus ride.”

  Cat frowned at that bit of news. When had Nadia’s drug-addict mom not been out of it? All her life she’d watched her best friend be pushed around and mistreated by her addict mom and abusive step-dad. When Nadia’s little brother Bobby drowned, that had been a new low. To top it off, six months later they moved to Upington, and Cat despaired of ever seeing her best friend again.

  “Well. We’ll just have to make a plan,” she sent back. If there was one thing that could be said of Cat, it was that she was stubborn. Even if she had to bribe Nadia’s step-dad, she’d do it.

  “Hope so, C. Catch you later. Branden and I’ve got a date.”

  “Have fun,” Cat replied before listening to the voicemail her mother had left three hours earlier.

  “Catherine, I’m going to be late tonight. We’re swamped with patients today, and the boss wants us to work in. There are leftovers in the fridge. See you later, sweetheart.”

  Cat sighed and tucked her phone away, resigned to a night spent in front of the TV with a bucket of ice cream. It wasn’t unusual. Her mom worked as an admin assistant at a local doctor, and she often stayed late when it got busy.

  About halfway home, Cat’s attention was caught by a man staggering down the road. He had a full head of dreadlocks, topped with a Rastafarian beanie and wore a long trench coat. At first, Cat paid him no mind and continued walking.

  There was something odd about him, though. He stumbled along haphazardly, moaning in an eerie way. The front of his coat was stained with what looked like black tar. A light breeze brushed over her face, lifting the hair off her neck and carrying a sickly sweet smell with it. She gagged, pulling her shirt over her mouth. “What the hell?”

  Cat eyed the man she
assumed to be either homeless or stoned and quickened her pace, hoping to slip past unnoticed.

  No such luck.

  When he spotted her, he raised his hands towards her, growling in a way she’d ordinarily find hilarious but now didn’t seem quite so funny.

  Cat stopped and backtracked, raising a hand to ward him off. “Hey, back off, buddy. I don’t have any money.”

  He ignored her and kept coming. As he got closer, the smell intensified until it rolled across her senses in a tidal wave of rot. She could now make out the smaller details of his appearance through watering eyes.

  His bottom lip was missing, exposing the lower teeth and jaw, pink flesh and white bone shining through clotted blood. Her stomach rolled as her eyes fixed upon the stain on his clothes. The black stuff she’d thought was oil, now looked more like old blood. Bits of hair and other things were matted into it. Her stomach heaved. “Oh, God, is that…a tooth?”

  Cat screamed, stepping back as he reached for her with hands that had turned into claws, the nails crusted with dirt. She swung her hockey stick and hit him, dancing on her toes to put distance between them.

  He regained his footing, and she whacked him over the head again, the sound hollow to her ears. Her school bag swung like a pendulum, pulling her off balance. With a cry, she fell.

  Her bare knees hit the asphalt, sharp pain flaring up her legs. She shrugged it off, rolling away when he reached for her. He tripped over her bag and fell in a tangle of limbs. Cat ripped the strap off her shoulder and scrambled away on all fours, gravel digging into her palms. Her heart banged in her chest, air whistling in and out of her lungs as her throat closed.

  Not now, she prayed.

  Cat lunged to her feet and whirled, brandishing her hockey stick. Like a loathsome crab, the homeless guy rose from the ground, joints cracking as he scuttled toward her.

  “Leave me alone,” Cat cried, wheezing for breath.

  He kept coming, teeth snapping like a rabid dog. Cat danced away like a boxer and hit him again, harder this time. His head swung, but he kept coming.