“We’d need to find a place that fits the bill and move all our people over. It’ll be dangerous,” Logan said.
“I’d say your most pressing problem right now is finding more guns and ammunition,” Henri said.
“I agree. In the meantime, you should all join us,” Max said.
“Thank you for the offer, but Hannelie and I will stay. This is our home. I’ll be sorry to see the rest of you go, though. Especially the little one.”
“We’ll miss you too, Henri. You and Hannelie have been so kind to us,” Julianne said.
“Well, the offer stands. You can join us anytime you want. We’ll leave you some food and water before we go,” Max said.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you all so much, my dears!” Hannelie cried, struggling to hold back her tears. “But enough of that. Let’s get you settled in for the night. I should have enough spare bedding.” As ever, her cure for any distress was to keep busy.
That night, Julianne struggled to fall asleep. The silence seemed deafening after the lively bustle of before. Even Meghan slept peacefully due to all the medicine.
Her mind raced with possibilities in the quiet. If Max had survived, couldn’t Lilian still be alive? It was possible.
Her mind spun in circles. Was it safe to move so close to town even with everything Max and the others had done to safeguard it? Was she making a mistake? Meghan’s life depended on this decision.
Around midnight, fatigue overcame her, and she drifted off to sleep, at last. The sound of breaking glass snapped her eyes open. She struggled upright, disoriented.
“John,” she cried. “What’s happening?”
Julianne realized she was calling to a ghost when reality flooded back, and she blinked. Meghan came awake more slowly next to her, mewling as she clutched her teddy bear.
Princess was going crazy, scratching at the door and barking herself hoarse. A loud scream cut through the dark and jolted Julianne out of her stupor. Hannelie!
Julianne vaulted out of bed, scooping Meghan into her arms and rushed towards the small walk-in closet.
“Sweetie, you must listen and do as I say,” she whispered, holding Meghan’s face and staring into her confused eyes. “I need you to be as quiet as a mouse, okay? I’m going out, but I’ll be right back.”
Meghan’s face scrunched up, and tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Shh, baby, don’t cry. Quiet as a mouse. Understand?”
Meghan nodded, sniffling. “I’m fetching your brother and sister. I’ll be right back. Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”
She crushed Meghan to her chest then closed the closet. Grabbing the cricket bat, she ran to the door. Several gunshots punctuated the night, making her jump. With her heart in her throat, she slipped out. Princess vanished, leaving her alone in the long dark hallway.
Faint moonlight streamed into the corridor through open doors ahead, but it was hard to see anything. Gulping, she raised the bat with shaking hands, her stomach coiled with fear. Frantic shouts and footsteps came from the main bedroom. She quickened her pace.
A figure lurched out of the darkness, and Julianne stopped. An awful stench hit her nostrils, and she swung the bat. It connected with a solid thunk, and she jumped back as the zombie collapsed at her feet.
Julianne hit it several more times, panic taking over. When it stopped moving, she stepped over it, shuddering when her bare feet landed in a sticky puddle of blood. Yuck.
Morgan burst out of a doorway and staggered, struggling with another infected. Before Julianne could even think to help, a shot rang out. It fell backward as the muzzle flashed in the dark. Breathing in ragged gasps, Morgan rose and swung the gun towards Julianne.
“Stop! It’s me,” Julianne cried.
Morgan’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Come on, Mom, we’ve got to help the others.”
They hurried onward and found Joanna hiding underneath her bed, scared out of her wits. With her in tow, they reached the main bedroom where the sight of Max confronted them, standing still with his gun hanging by his side.
On the bed, Henri sat with Hannelie clutched in his arms. There was blood everywhere. Three infected bodies lay on the floor. Princess gnawed at the trouser leg of one before Julianne scooped her up.
“No, Princess,” she scolded before turning to Henri.
He rocked back and forth, mouth working with unintelligible pleas. His eyes were glassy and distant. Hannelie was no longer there. Her eyes were sightless, rolled back into her head. Blood covered the front of her nightdress, seeping out of a bloody wound in her torn throat.
“What happened?” Julianne asked. This situation reminded her of John. Painful memories resurfaced to haunt her once more.
“A group of infected broke in through the windows. They attacked Hannelie, and I was too late to save her,” Max said. His voice was flat, his face bleak.
“Where’s Logan and Angie?”
“They’re outside, patrolling the area.”
There wasn’t much more to say. Henri refused to let go of Hannelie and wouldn’t speak to any of them, even when Max warned she would turn. They dragged out the bodies and mopped up the blood. Grim silence hung over the household. They all knew what would happen next.
Julianne put Meghan back to bed with Princess after giving her another round of medicine, then made coffee. None of them could sleep further that night. For Julianne, the warm, comforting house had turned into a nightmare. Without Hannelie, it would never be the same.
Julianne was sipping her coffee when a gunshot caused her to spill all over her shirt. Max walked in, his shoulders stooped.
“Hannelie?” she asked.
“Yes, she turned. Henri shot her.”
Although she’d known it would happen, Julianne still felt stunned and bereft. “So what now?”
“We’re loading up. I’d like to leave within the hour. It’s not safe here. Can you be ready?”
“Yes, I’m just finishing up.”
“See you outside then.” Max squeezed her shoulder.
Moving fast, Julianne went back inside the room and packed. She dressed in a soft forest green blouse, black pants, and ballet pumps then gathered up their stuff. Time to go.
She scooped Meghan up in a blanket, her head resting on her shoulder. The sleeping child never even woke up.
Joanna sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea. Always groomed with her hair and makeup done, she usually looked a great deal younger than her seventy-four years. Except for today. Today she looked her age.
“They’re waiting outside,” Joanna said, a quaver in her voice. Hannelie’s death had hit her hard. They’d been fast friends toward the end.
They walked out into the misty gray of early dawn, dragging their suitcases. Max and Logan took their luggage and loaded it into the vehicles while Julianne looked around her. Henri was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Henri?”
“He’s not coming,” Morgan replied. “He says he won’t leave Hannelie.”
“We buried her under the apple tree at the back of the barn,” Max added.
“Let’s pay our respects before we leave,” Julianne said.
Henri stood next to the grave, shoulders hunched. His face was drawn and pale, but no tears were in sight. His grief shone as brightly as the sun, and Julianne approached him with hesitation.
“Won’t you come with us, Henri? We need you,” she begged, reaching out a hand.
Wordlessly, he shook his head. She dropped her hand back to her side. In silence, they held vigil over Hannelie’s grave, each saying goodbye in their own way. After a few minutes, Henri left, striding off into the veldt with a mere nod and a wave.
“We need to go now, Mom. I know it’s hard, but we can’t force him to join us,” Max said, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“I know. It’s not easy, though.” With a heavy heart, Julianne turned and left.
As the farm that had been their home for the past six weeks receded into the background,
Julianne bit back tears. This was a new beginning. Then why does it feel so much like the end?
Chapter 14 - Max
The sun beat down on the earth with relentless force as it scorched away the greenery, evaporating all traces of moisture. It roasted any bit of unprotected skin without mercy and sapped a person’s will to live. Summers in the Free State were always hot, but this was unusual. Speculations of drought were rife, and morale flagged as everyone suffered from the high temperatures.
Climbing up the makeshift ladder to the top of their improvised fence, Max surveyed the surrounding area with a pair of binoculars. Everything seemed quiet for the moment. He walked over to one of the ramshackle guard towers.
It wasn’t much, but it provided shelter from the sun and boasted two lawn chairs. Morgan was there before him. They always patrolled the walls in pairs for backup. Max and Morgan had this shift. Sitting down, he studied her unnoticed.
She seemed different. The sister he’d always known was strong but also insecure. In her teens, she’d gone through a phase, struggling with depression and eating disorders. But after a few years, she picked herself up, studying fitness and nutrition. Even then, she still questioned her self-worth.
Now the uncertainty that always shadowed her actions was gone. She was proving to be a lot tougher than he’d ever thought possible. When they returned from the farm four days ago, she’d wasted no time equipping herself and taking an active role.
Her standard uniform was a pair of black shorts, tank top, and her old knee-high leather riding boots. The belt slung around her hips sported their dad’s 9mm Parabellum on one side and a serrated hunting knife on the other. She was in great shape too, due to her former job. He couldn’t help but notice the way the guys looked at her, especially Logan. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“What’s with the frown, Max?”
“Nothing, sis. Just thinking.”
“Suit yourself.” Her lips quirked, suppressing a smile.
He sighed. She could always tell when he wasn’t honest. As kids, they were very close and became even closer once they reached adulthood. They both took after their dad in athleticism, sharing a love for nature, and possessing a daring spirit. As kids, they got into endless trouble. Lilian, on the other hand, took after their mother. Petite and delicate, she was every bit the lady and always acted with restraint.
Feeling restless, he got up and patrolled the fence. There were no zombies in sight, but he’d learned that you couldn’t take anything for granted in this new world and lingered. It gave him a chance to think about their situation.
The time to leave was approaching fast. There wasn’t enough space for all of them, and they were too close to several densely populated areas like Welkom and Thabong. Then there was the water situation.
Max stared down at the grounds inside the fence, studying its occupants. Big Ben, with his broad frame and benign face, was teaching boxing. In his younger days, he used to be a professional, but injuries cut his career short. He settled down and opened a studio in Bloemfontein.
Peter and Thembiso were two of his most eager pupils. Max chuckled as he watched them practice the moves. Angie also joined in. Short and petite, she was an unlikely but fierce fighter. A former student at the University of Bloemfontein, she and her friend Susan escaped campus during the outbreak, joining up with Ben.
On the road, they met up with Jacques and Armand, two brothers fleeing the family farm after zombies overran it. Things had gone badly for the group from there. On the run, they moved from place to place until they came upon Joseph and his wife, Tumi, who was seven months pregnant. They headed for the nearest town, Riebeeckstad, hoping to find more survivors.
A mob of infected discovered their shelter, and they fled. Susan was bitten during their escape, while shock sent Tumi into premature labor. Somehow, they all ended up on Max’s doorstep.
With nowhere else to go, the survivors had opted to stay. This turned out to be a bonus as each brought something valuable to the group. With the extra hands, their little fort improved over the weeks that followed. Max knew, however, that it was time to move on.
Morgan joined him on the wall, and he turned to her. “I think we should have a meeting tonight. Discuss our options.”
“Good idea,” Morgan replied.
Max thought for a moment. “What do you think of our chances? Honestly?”
“Honestly?” she shrugged. “I think we’re living on borrowed time.”
“Why do you say that?” Max asked, surprised at Morgan’s fatalistic outlook. “You don’t think we stand any chance at all?”
“No, I don’t. There are millions of infected and just a few of us. The army’s gone, and there’s no cure or vaccine. We’re screwed.”
“Wow. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“However, we’ve got a solid group and a great leader. If we fight for tomorrow, we just might get to see it. Or we might not,” Morgan added, grinning.
“You’re enjoying this?”
“Not enjoying. How can I enjoy something that killed billions of innocent people? My father, my husband, and probably my sister and her family?” Morgan sighed. “But I find myself rising to the challenge, and I’m determined to see it through, even if we lose.”
Max was silent, not sure what to say. This side of his sister was one he’d never seen before.
“Having lost so much, I now realize how precious life is and that we should savor every moment,” she continued.
“On that, we can agree.”
“Come on. We can talk later, discuss the great mysteries of life and all that, but right now we’ve got work to do.” She punched him on the arm and pointed.
Max turned to look and saw a trio of zombies making their way to the fence. Thank God, they were slow ones. The fast ones always creeped him out, reminding him of The Exorcist.
They didn’t understand the virus or its progression, but they all knew that freshly turned corpses were fast, only slowing down once decay set in. Max supposed it made sense they’d slow as their muscles and tendons rotted away. What none of them could figure out, was why they waste away. Weeks after the outbreak, the infected were still going, though slow.
When the zombies came within reach, Max stabbed downwards into the nearest one’s skull, killing it. It wasn’t a foolproof method. You had to get a solid shot and aim right. It was effective, though.
The shit part was disposing of the bodies, dumping them in an open field chosen for the purpose. The stench was incredible and the sight even worse, but it had to be done.
“Toss a coin on who gets to dispose of the bodies?” he asked.
“Forget it. It’s your turn!” Morgan laughed.
“Since when are you a shrinking violet?”
“Do I look dumb to you?” She shook her head, folding her arms across her chest.
Grumbling, Max finished the job, wrinkling his nose in disgust. An hour later, Armand and Jacques, relieved them, and he set out to arrange the meeting. After supper, the kids were put to bed, and the group convened to discuss the problems facing them.
Clearing his throat, Max began, “I think the time has come for us to move.”
Murmurs broke out among the group.
“Why? We’ve got it pretty good here,” Ben said.
“We’re too close to town. What if the infected find us? We can’t fight off hundreds, or even thousands of zombies at once.” Max replied. “We also have to consider the long-term implications of this plague. What happens when the food and water run out? How do we live? We can’t scavenge forever.”
Silence descended as the group absorbed this information.
“We need a farm,” Jacques said. “We need to live off the land. Like the Voortrekkers. That’s something Armand, and I know how to do.”
Angie snorted, “Like the Voortrekkers? That would be like going back to the stone age.”
Jacques blushed. “That’s not true. They were pioneers, survivors. Our forefathers.�
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“They might be your forefathers, but they’re not mine. I don’t have a drop of Afrikaner blood. I’m a hundred percent Greek,” she shot back.
“Don’t be rude, Angie,” Ben said. “What Jacques says is the truth. What will you eat once the shops are empty? Do you think the ancient Greeks had canned food?”
Max took up the reins again, trying to regain control of the meeting. “Jacques makes an excellent point, and I’m sure their farming expertise will prove invaluable.” He shot Jacques a smile, and the boy blushed again, this time with pleasure. “As for the rest, we need to work together, regardless of our heritage, if we hope to survive.”
Angie opened her mouth to protest, but a pointed look from Ben made her sink back into her chair with a frown.
“Well said, Max. Any ideas?” Ben asked.
“Our best chance of survival lies somewhere isolated. It must be well fortified with a clean water source and space for livestock and crops.”
“There’s a place about twenty-five kilometers from here, on the way to Kroonstad. It’s far enough from town to be safe yet close enough to make supply runs when needed. It’s fenced, stocked with game, and there’s water too. We could get what we need in the surrounding farms,” Morgan said.
“Sounds good. Can you show us on a map? Maybe make a drawing?” Max said.
“Hold on; we should scout it out first. It could be occupied or overrun with infected,” Logan interjected.
“Good idea,” Morgan agreed. “I volunteer.”
“I’ll go with you,” Logan said, staring at her intently.
Morgan shot him a glance then looked away, cheeks stained with hot blood.
Max picked up on the exchange and interrupted, “Actually, I have a different job in mind for you, Logan.”
“What?”
“We’re in urgent need of more guns and ammunition. I’d like to raid the police station in Welkom. It’ll be a dangerous mission, and I need you to back me up. You’re an excellent shot. The best we have.”
Logan stared at him, not at all happy with the change of plans but unable to fault Max’s logic. “Fine. Armand can join us. He’s a crack shot too.”
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