Dangerous Days: Boxed Set (A Zombie Apocalypse Survival Thriller Books 1-4)

by Baileigh Higgins

  Shaking her head in amusement, Julianne said, “I warned her. But she’s incredibly stubborn.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  After dinner, Julianne decided to have a last drink before retiring for the night. She grabbed a cider and walked outside, hoping for fresh air. The breeze was pleasant against her hot skin, raising goosebumps.

  A boot scraped against gravel, and Julianne realized she wasn’t alone. A few feet away, Breytenbach sat on a wooden bench, looking at something in his hands. She walked over, not sure if her presence was wanted.

  “Can I sit?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  Julianne perched on the edge of the bench in silence, not sure what to say. The minutes passed, and neither said a word. She shifted, playing with the bottle in her hands, picking at the label.

  “I still think of that night,” Breytenbach said. The words were low, rough in timbre. “It haunts my dreams.”

  She looked at him and waited, knowing if he wanted to say more he would.

  “I was on a mission but got sidetracked. They were trapped in a pre-school. The women and children. We tried to save them, but we were too late. So many of them died that night. Torn apart. I still hear their screams in my head.”

  She swallowed, trying not to imagine what it must have been like. “Did you manage to save any?”

  “We saved a few, even evacuated them to a camp where we fought for weeks to keep them alive. They’re all dead now. Except for Sam.”

  “Sam?”

  “The baby, Samantha. I took her from her mother that night. She gave her life so her daughter could live, shielding her with her own body. Her little boy was dead by the time I found them. I never want to see such a thing again as long as I live.”

  Breytenbach was silent while he relived the horrors of that night. Julianne did nothing, lending her quiet support while trying not to imagine all those children dying in such a horrid manner.

  After a while, he continued. “She made me promise to look after Sam, and I will keep that promise with my last dying breath. That little girl means the world to me.”

  He looked at a worn photo in his hands. “I found this among the woman’s belongings. Sam will want something of theirs one day. Something of her own.”

  “Can I see?” Julianne asked.

  She took the photo he handed her and looked at the family smiling at the camera, oblivious to the impending tragedy. Her hands shook, breath hitching in her throat. Her vision narrowed until all she could see were their smiling faces.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Julianne hardly heard him through the buzzing in her ears. Tears welled up, and she sobbed, one uncontrollable spasm after the other. “That’s my daughter. Her husband. Their children. Sam!”

  Next moment, her feet were flying, skimming over the ground to the infirmary. She burst through the door and scared a dozing Hannah out of her chair. In a makeshift crib made from an empty box, Samantha slept, one chubby fist jammed into her mouth. Curls so blond they were almost white, framed her face. Julianne reached out trembling fingers, brushing her cheek. She’s grown so much.

  She registered Breytenbach’s presence behind her, followed by Max and Morgan. She assumed he’d told them the news but couldn’t bear to look away from Sam.

  The full force of Lilian and Michael’s death hit her once more. She gasped, doubling over. The pain coiled and burned through her body like fire.

  It eased when Max and Morgan stood by, lending their silent support and sympathy. At least, she still had them, and Samantha. Meghan too. Perhaps, instead of mourning, she should be celebrating. If only life were that easy.

  Chapter 26 - Morgan

  Morgan woke by slow degrees, her lids fluttering open with reluctance. The mattress was soft beneath her hips, and Logan’s warmth cradled her limbs. Early morning sunlight spilled through the curtains, and she could hear the soft cooing of doves outside the window.

  With a sigh of contentment, she stretched out her arms and legs, reveling in the strength and health of her body. She felt supremely happy but supposed it was hard to be unhappy when you were young and in love. Even the zombies couldn’t take that away from her.

  Easing out from underneath Logan’s arm, she made her way to the bathroom. Padding over the tiles, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Halfway through, her stomach roiled. Spitting out the toothpaste, Morgan waited for it to subside.

  Her muscles contracted, and cold sweat beaded her forehead. Clutching her mouth, she rushed to the toilet. After several minutes, she was reduced to dry heaving, tears streaming down her face. God, what’s wrong with me?

  Ever since the Christmas party, she’d felt peaky and nauseated. At first, she’d put it down to a hangover but after three days was forced to admit it might be something more.

  “Are you okay, love?” Logan asked.

  Mumbling something incoherent, Morgan threw up once more, clutching the bowl with both hands. Logan pressed a cool cloth to her forehead and brushed the hair away from her face. After a few more heaves, the nausea subsided, and she stood up on shaky legs. She brushed her teeth again and splashed cold water on her face.

  “Feeling better now?”

  “A little. The worst is over, I think.”

  “I think you should talk to Hannah. Maybe she can give you something.”

  “I’ll see her after breakfast.”

  Logan had already readied the shower for her, so Morgan stripped off her pajamas and stepped in. The water flowed over her body. It relaxed her muscles and smoothed away the tension.

  It was pure luck that today was their turn to shower. The borehole and solar panels only provided so much hot water, and a roster had been drawn up providing everyone with a five-minute shower twice a week. She and Logan combined theirs half the time.

  Logan’s hands slid over her stomach, and she leaned back onto his chest. He nuzzled her neck, nibbling her earlobe as his hands explored her breasts, awakening a raging fire within. He teased her nipples, sending electric currents through her nervous system. She tilted her head back, gasping when his hand slipped between her thighs. His fingers massaged her sex and circled around the sensitive nub.

  She shivered, legs growing weaker as the pleasure built. He looped one arm around her waist, holding her up. Within seconds, she was reduced to a quivering puddle of desire as the force of her orgasm crashed over her.

  With a growl, he slammed her up against the tiles. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he thrust inside her. She cried out, clutching his shoulders with her fingers. The rhythm built, becoming faster and more intense. Morgan clung to him, eyes closed as she rode the wave.

  Logan groaned, a deep shudder wracking his frame. He gripped her tightly to him, her wet hair covering his back with long tendrils. His warmth filled her, mirrored by the flow of hot water over their bodies. He slowed, hips bucking then stopped, breathing raw and ragged. His lips pressed against her ear. “You’ll be the death of me yet.”

  She grinned, a throaty chuckle escaping her lips. “Perhaps. Do I detect a complaint?”

  He smiled, letting her down. “Never.”

  They finished what was left of their shower, and got out. Morgan slipped on a pair of panties and a bra, followed by her trademark shorts, tank top, and boots. With smooth glides, she combed her long hair, watching while Logan dressed.

  He glanced at her. “Breakfast?”

  “Sure. I’m feeling better now.”

  “Good. I need to build my strength after that little workout.”

  “Grandpa,” she teased.

  He smacked her on the ass. “No need to get cheeky.”

  Still laughing, they shut the door behind them and headed to the dining room. The low murmur of voices greeted her along with the smell of coffee and eggs. Her stomach flopped like a dead bunny. “Oh, no.”

  Sitting down, she breathed through her mouth and tried to ignore the smells. She flashed a weak smile at Julianne who walked pas
t with Samantha on her hip. Though the loss of Lilian and the rest of her family still hurt, the baby was a great comfort to them all. Meghan, of course, was ecstatic to discover she now had a little sister to cuddle.

  “Hungry?” Logan asked.

  “Not really. Just coffee for me, thanks.”

  Logan ambled off to get breakfast, and Morgan amused herself by watching the people around her. Peter and Thembiso were bickering about something. Fast friends, they were joined at the hip and did everything together these days.

  Meghan, Anne, Mark, and Jenny sat at the kiddies table. They messed around more than they ate, a fact that would not go over well with Elise if she noticed.

  “Good morning,” Joanna greeted as she passed.

  “Morning,” Morgan replied.

  She watched as Joanna took a seat next to Ben. Despite her age, seventy-something as far as Morgan knew, she looked good. Ben looked good too, more relaxed, at least. Sitting with them were Hannah and Dave. The four got along well together.

  Logan returned with a full plate and coffee. She sipped on the warm brew, wondering what to do next. This question was answered when she turned in time to see Logan squish his bread into his runny egg yolk. While she loved soft eggs, today the sight was too much. She rushed off to the nearest bathroom, retching.

  After another exhausting session, she turned to find Hannah in the doorway. “Are you all right, dear?”

  “Not really.” Morgan washed her face with cold water. “I’m feeling off these past few days, and I was hoping you could help.”

  “Why don’t you see Jonathan? He’s in the infirmary.”

  “Is he up to it? I thought he was sick.” Morgan said, surprised.

  “He’s much better now. Besides, I think he needs to feel useful.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks.” Morgan followed the corridor to the infirmary and found a bored-looking Jonathan slumped in a chair, doodling with a pen and a piece of paper.

  “Keeping busy, I see.”

  Surprised, Jonathan sat up with an embarrassed cough. “Not much to do.”

  “Well, you could always come on a supply run with me.”

  Jonathan blanched, all color draining from his face. “Yeah, uh, I’d rather not.”

  Morgan could have kicked herself for that thoughtless remark. The man had been to hell and back in a matter of days, losing all of his friends and patients, everyone he knew. The thought of facing zombies again must be a scary prospect.

  “Kidding, kidding. We’d never risk the life of our only doctor.” Morgan flashed him a dazzling smile, hoping to cover her gaffe. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of sick people to pamper soon.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” he asked, responding with a half-smile.

  “As it happens, I am.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  Jonathan assumed a brisk mien. “Start at the beginning.”

  “Ever since the Christmas party, I’ve been nauseous all the time. I can’t keep my food down or even handle the smell of it.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Maybe some coffee and juice. A little cereal or toast.” She shrugged. “That’s about it.”

  “Any other symptoms?”

  “Now that you mention it, I’m tired and achy. Do you think I might have the flu?”

  “Why don’t you lie down, and I’ll take a look?”

  Several minutes later, Jonathan finished the exam. Pursing his lips, he hesitated. “I’m not sure if this is something you’ll want to hear or not.”

  “What?” Morgan asked, swinging her legs to and fro on the edge of the bed in agitation. “Tell me.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  For once, Morgan was shocked to silence. She stared at Jonathan for several seconds. “Pregnant? Are you serious?”

  “Perfectly. All the signs are there. I need you to do a test, though, to be sure.”

  “How is that possible?” she asked.

  “Well…you and Logan?”

  She waved a hand in the air, dismissing his words. “Of course, but we use protection.”

  “Nothing’s foolproof.”

  “A baby. I can’t have a baby,” she cried, wrapping her arms around her middle.

  Jonathan rummaged in a drawer and handed over a home pregnancy test. “Do the test first thing tomorrow morning and report back.” He patted her on the back. “It’s not so bad. You have a lot of support from what I’ve seen. Julianne, Logan, Max.”

  She took the test with numb fingers and tucked it into her pocket. “Thanks, Doc. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Um, can we keep this between us for now?”

  “Of course. Oh, and Morgan? It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” His manner was warm and reassuring, giving the impression he’d look after her. For the first time, she got a glimpse of the real Jonathan.

  She walked out of the infirmary and returned to Logan. “So? Are you all right? Did you see Hannah?”

  “I saw Jonathan. He said I’m fine. It’s just a bug. Nothing serious.” The words felt wooden, falling heavy and stilted from her lips.

  “Well, that’s a relief. Here, have some coffee,” Logan replied.

  It killed her, sitting there and pretending nothing was different even though it burned a hole through her chest. In a single moment, her whole world had changed. Everything she expected, wanted, wished for, would now have to be set aside to make way for something new. A baby. I can’t believe it. During the apocalypse? The end of the world?

  These thoughts milled through her head the entire time they talked, making it hard to keep up the pretense. When she had the opportunity to escape with a reasonable excuse, she grabbed it, relieved not to have to fake a smile anymore.

  Logan went off to help Joseph with the construction of the wall, while she headed out to the vegetable plots. The morning passed in a blur, her hands occupied with planting, weeding, and pruning. This left her mind free to roam.

  She’d never planned on having children. The more she thought about it, the more excited she became. Would it be so bad after all? Erica was pregnant. So was Tumi. They had a doctor and a nurse. Even a pharmacist. They could scavenge for the supplies needed. How will Logan feel about it? Will he be happy? Angry?

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” Julianne asked when she brought her a glass of water.

  Morgan straightened up, easing the crick in her back. “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Are you sure?” Julianne’s eyes scanned Morgan’s body, her expression shrewd. “Something’s different about you.”

  “I’m feeling peaky, that’s all.”

  “Have you seen Jonathan about it?”

  “I have, and it’s just a bug. Seriously, Mom.” Morgan downed the water in one gulp. “I’m not a kid.”

  Julianne shook her head, face wan. “You’ll always be my kids. All of you.” She looked down at Sam on her hip and gave a half-smile. “I can’t lose any more of you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it like that.” Morgan hugged Julianne. “I miss Lilian too.”

  “I think about her and Michael every day. Ronald too.” They stood in silence until Julianne gave herself a visible shake. “I’ve still got all of you, though, and that’s enough for me.”

  Morgan watched her walk away and hoped she’d never have to live with losing a child. Now that a tiny person might be relying on her, she felt fear dry up the saliva in her mouth. Can I raise a child like this?

  A few hours later, she had finished weeding the last of the green beans when Logan rode up on a quad bike, balancing a covered basket in front of him. “Feel like taking a break?”

  “Uh, sure. What’s that?”

  “A surprise. Hop on.”

  Morgan climbed onto the back and wrapped her arms around his waist, taking comfort in the feel of his strong back. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling. After a while, he slowed t
o a stop. She opened her eyes to find he’d taken them to a remote spot between a clump of willows. The trees created the illusion of privacy, and the grass was soft, springy to the touch. A light breeze whispered through the leaves, cool and fresh. “What’s going on?”

  Logan opened the basket and pulled out a blanket. He threw it down on the grass, then bowed, flourishing one hand.“Have a seat, M’lady.”

  “Why certainly, good Sir.” A giggle welled up, but she played along. Keeping a straight face, she sat down with prim composure.

  He whipped out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “A toast,” he proposed, “to the woman I love.”

  “Uh, okay,” she answered, watching his grandiose gestures with dubious interest. “No champagne for me, thanks.”

  He deflated. “What? Why not?”

  She thought fast. “I’m not supposed to drink alcohol with a stomach bug.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, thrown off his game. “Can you at least eat?”

  “Sure. I’m starving.” And indeed, she was. No breakfast followed by hours of hard labor had given her a healthy appetite. In hindsight, she now recognized her nausea for what it was—morning sickness.

  Happy that his surprise picnic was back on track, Logan pulled out an array of food from the basket to tempt her.

  “Wow. Thanks, babe. This looks great.”

  Morgan eyed the spread. It looked delicious, and her tummy rumbled. She popped an olive into her mouth, savoring the bitter taste. A handful of fresh cherry tomatoes followed. She’d picked them herself that morning, and they tasted like sunshine.

  It was too bad that Logan stared at her with unwavering intensity, like a hawk watching a mouse. She shifted beneath his scrutiny, growing uncomfortable. Does he know?

  Morgan wracked her brain for something to say. Nothing presented itself, and she stuffed a boiled egg into her mouth instead. Jamming the whole thing in wasn’t the best idea, and her eyes teared up as she struggled to chew.

  With the worst sense of timing, Logan leaned forward while she was in mid-chew. “Morgan, I’m not very good at this sort of thing, so I’m just gonna come out and say it.”