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

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Is it just me, or is this all happening a little too fast?” Nadia asked.

  “Too fast? We’ve been waiting for this for a month.”

  “I know, but…”

  “Don’t you want to go?” Logan asked.

  “I do. It’s just…we’re leaving tomorrow morning, and I feel like it’s not enough time to say goodbye.”

  “I’m not complaining. The sooner, the better.” Logan scooped up another apple and an orange, casually juggling the fruit as he walked out of the room.

  Nadia trailed behind him, her face uncertain. “We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we, Logan?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Leaving this place, and more, taking their leader with us. They’ll be okay, won’t they? Kimberley…”

  Logan paused and eyed her with somber patience. “These people don’t need Martin. They’re strong enough without him, and it’s time they realized it. As for Kim, she’ll see her father again.”

  “I hope so,” Nadia replied as they stepped out into the sunshine.

  “We each have to make our own choices. Martin, Josh, me, and especially you.”

  “Me?” Nadia looked up at him with surprise.

  “Yes, you,” Logan replied. “You need to decide what you want, Nadia. What’s right for you. Not what I think is right for you, or what anyone else thinks is right for you.”

  “But I’ve already decided to go with you,” she protested.

  “No, you haven’t. You’ve let circumstances choose for you.” Logan pinned her to the spot with a sharp look. “You’re taking the easy way out, and that isn’t like you.”

  “Not true. I know what I want!”

  “Do you? Because I’m still waiting for the real Nadia to show up and tell me to bugger off because she can make up her own damn mind. That Nadia never needed permission from anybody.”

  With those parting words, Logan strode away and left Nadia stuttering and white-faced. Much as he wanted her to, no, needed her to go with him, it was her own decision to make, and not one he was willing to make for her. I just hope she chooses well.

  Chapter 3 - Michael

  Michael shifted the rusted AK47 from his left arm to his right in a bid to soothe the ache in his back. It didn’t help much. Sixteen hours of continuous guard duty on an empty stomach had eaten away at his energy reserves. Every muscle burned with exhaustion, yet he had no choice but to stand there like a puppet, eyes roving for any signs of enemy movement. Whether it be living or dead, it didn’t matter. Ke Tau’s orders.

  It was maybe an hour before dawn, and he licked his dry lips with a parched tongue. He stood alone at the furthest end of the perimeter, also known as the dead zone by the other guards. Here, he was surrounded by staked and chained zombies, a lone figure of living breathing flesh among a sea of corpses. Their constant groaning and rasping wore on his nerves, but at least it kept him awake.

  A shuffling figure caught his eye, and he twisted his head to look back at the old hotel. It was the old woman, Rebecca. The one who’d first made contact with Ronnie. She carried a bucket and balanced a parcel on her ancient head. With torturous steps, she went a slow circuit around all the guards before heading toward him.

  His stomach growled at the thought of breakfast, but his thirst was far worse and fought for dominance among his needs. With impatience, he watched the old woman wind her way through the captured dead to bring him his meal. At last, she reached him and ducked her head as she placed her burdens on the ground.

  Michael glanced over the woman’s head at the other guards surrounding the compound. None had ventured near, just as none had accompanied the old lady while she walked. Perhaps, this was his opportunity to speak to her, an opportunity he had so far lacked.

  “I’ve brought you food, Sir,” she said in a quavery voice.

  “Why not sooner?” he asked. “I saw you last night, doling out supper to the rest. Why not for me?”

  She shot him a knowing glance before dropping her gaze once more. “Because Ke Tau did not wish it.“

  “How so? Have I angered him in some way?”

  “I do not know, forgive me, Sir.”

  “I think you know more than you let on, old one.”

  Her eyes rolled upward, exposing more of the whites, and she cowered before him. “Please, Sir. I know nothing.”

  “Relax, old woman. I will not harm you.” He pointed at her burdens. “Water. Do you have water?”

  She shook her head. “No, Sir. Ke Tau said no water for you.”

  “Then what do you have?”

  “Mageu and bread.” She opened the bucket before her and scooped up a cup of the fermented liquid. This she proffered along with a hunk of dry bread from the bundle on her head.

  Michael wrinkled his nose as he took the food from her, his insides twisting. The mere thought of forcing down a chunk of tasteless dough when he was this thirsty, was distasteful. Nor did the sour mageu smell appetizing. His body needed water. Water and protein. “Is it fresh?”

  “Yes, Sir. I made the bread myself today, and the mageu is from yesterday.”

  He nodded and raised the cup to his lips. In one gulp, he drained the liquid, the consistency much like thick porridge. His stomach rebelled, but he forced it down. While it might not be water, it would relieve his thirst and provide some energy. “Another, please.”

  “I’m not allowed, but…” With furtive movements, she scooped up another cup which he downed as quickly as the first.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  She threw him a surprised look, apparently unused to gratitude.

  “Tell me why Ke Tau is treating me this way,” he insisted. “You must know.”

  She hesitated before replying. “It is simply his way. You are new here, and he does not trust you.”

  “I’ve been here for a month, and I do whatever he bids me.”

  “It is not enough. He wants to know who you are. He will try to break you first.”

  Michael digested this knowledge in silence, before saying, “Thank you again, old one.”

  She ducked her head and gathered up her stuff. He glanced at the guards and noted that none were paying attention. “Before you go, we need to speak. I was sent here by someone you know.”

  She gasped and scuttled back. “What do you mean?”

  “You spoke to a man a while ago. A man who asked for your help.”

  She shook her head. “I…I don’t remember.”

  “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you.”

  She shook her head so hard he was afraid it would fall off her neck. “No, I know nothing, spoke to no one.”

  “This man promised you revenge for your son. Don’t you want that anymore?” he asked, pleased to note the way she stilled.

  Her face turned blank, and an unnamed emotion swelled beneath the surface. “Revenge?”

  “Yes, but first we need your help.”

  “How can I help? I’m just an old woman,” she said, casting a fearful look around.

  “You can talk to the others, those who feel like you do,” he replied with his eyes fixed on the nearest guards. “Tell them to be ready. Tell them that when the day comes, they must join us in our fight.”

  “I…I will try.”

  One of the guards turned toward Michael and stared at them, his eyes narrowed. Michael threw her a look and said, “They notice. We must act the part.”

  She glanced toward the guard and hunched down like a crone. “They mustn’t know.”

  With casual contempt, Michael tossed the empty cup at the old woman and shouted, “Now get away. Back to your hole, old woman.”

  The guard laughed and nodded his approval.

  Like a crab, she scurried around and prepared to go. He turned his back on her and looked into the distance before asking one final question. “Rebecca.”

  She paused for the briefest of moments.

  “How can I get Ke Tau to trust me?”

  “Trust you?” She c
ackled underneath her breath. “If you want Ke Tau to trust you, then you must be like him. You must become him.”

  With that cryptic remark, the old woman left, and the hours passed slowly. One after the other until exhaustion dragged at his lids, and sleep beckoned with the sweet promise of relief. His thirst, temporarily sated by the mageu, returned with a vengeance as soon as the sun rose. He dared not sit down for too long lest he fell asleep, a sin that carried dire consequences in Ke Tau’s eyes.

  One by one the other guards were relieved, but never him. He alone remained standing at his post, hour after hour. Behind his back, the other men made bets on how long he’d last. This he knew but cared not. Instead, his mind wandered back over the past month. While Ke Tau had seemed to accept his story of him wanting vengeance against the camp because they destroyed all his hopes for a vaccine, the leader had not entrusted him with anything worthwhile.

  Instead, he’d been shunned and assigned to the poorest of jobs. The first week he’d worked like a slave, cleaning toilets and sleeping quarters. The next, he was given the task of shackling zombies to poles and chains. He complied with Ke Tau’s orders without complaint, yet this gained him nothing. Once or twice, one of the other gang members took him on, but that stopped when he shoved a plunger down the one’s throat. After that, he was treated with wary respect and fear from lesser members.

  About two weeks in, he’d been given a gun and a sweat-stained uniform. This caused him to hope for betterment until he was assigned to guard duty, fated to stand outside no matter what the weather. Shunned by the others, he bided his time and waited.

  “Maybe now things can get moving,” he growled softly.

  He forced his fatigued body to keep going, not allowing himself to falter or fail. Whenever an infected wandered towards him, he dispatched it with prompt efficiency and dragged the body aside. The day wore on, and night fell, bringing with it the return of Rebecca. He watched her approach with eagerness, his parched tissues crying out for moisture.

  “Do you have water?” he asked.

  “I’m sorry. Ke Tau said no water.” She looked ashamed as she uttered the words, her lips pursed in sympathy. “He is intent on seeing how long you can last. It is a game with him.”

  “Game?”

  She nodded. “He wants to see how strong you are. Too little and you are useless to him. Too much…”

  “And he will kill me,” Michael finished.

  “Yes.” She bobbed her head before handing him a cup brimming with Mageu. “He is watching you.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Because you are different. This disturbs him.”

  Michael remained silent, working this information over in his mind while he drank the sour brew in his hand. If Rebecca was correct, Ke Tau was waiting for something. Either a sign of absolute loyalty or disobedience. Either way, he was running out of time. A month had passed since he arrived, a month during which anything could have happened at camp. He hadn’t been able to make any headway over here, or contact any of his people. It was time to do something drastic.

  “Tell me again, Rebecca. What do I have to do to earn his trust?”

  She took his empty cup and once more sneaked him a second after a furtive look around. While he drank, she said, “I already told you. You must become like him.”

  Michael tossed her his cup and shoved his bread into his pocket. “What does that even mean? Give me something I can work with. Do you want to live here forever under his rule, watching your son rot away on a pole?”

  Rheumy tears welled up in her eyes. This elicited a twinge of sorrow, but Michael had no time to pussyfoot around and stood firm.

  She sighed and looked away. “Tomorrow, Ke Tau and a few others are going on a raid. They’ve seen signs of a small group of survivors on the outskirts of town. You must convince Ke Tau to take you with him.”

  “How? I’m not allowed to leave my post.” Michael gestured around him.

  Rebecca bit her lip. “I will speak to someone I know. He respects me for my wisdom, though he will not show it in front of the others. I will tell him you wish to go, and that you need to speak to Ke Tau. Perhaps, he can arrange it, though I promise nothing.”

  “Say he does manage, what then?”

  “Then you must convince Ke Tau to give you a chance.” She sucked in a deep breath. “It is a risk.”

  “No more risk than standing here while he plays his games.” Michael squared his shoulders. “If he does let me go with him tomorrow, then….”

  “You will have your chance to prove your loyalty.” Her shoulders bowed to the ground, and her eyes traveled to the thrashing shape of her son tied to his pole in eternal punishment. “Just like my son had. He failed. What about you?”

  “I will not fail.”

  “So when the time comes, you will kill and torture innocents?” She studied his face. “All to gain his trust?”

  Michael felt a cold knot form in his breast when she uttered the words out loud. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  It was a simple question, yet one loaded with nuance. Michael knew she was testing him, weighing him, and that her future cooperation might count on his words. But what choice did he have?

  He’d known what could and likely would happen when he volunteered for this job. It was why he’d offered. Because he knew none of the others back at camp would be able to do it, and the mission would fail. This he could not allow. Ke Tau had to be defeated if Dr. Lange stood any chance at discovering a vaccine for the virus.

  He looked Rebecca in the eyes and said, “I will do it because I must.”

  “You are certain? It is a heavy burden to bear. The pain and suffering of another.”

  “Rather I carry it than someone else.”

  She turned to leave, pausing only to say, “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Satisfied, Michael turned away and gazed out into the night. Perhaps tomorrow, he’d finally get his chance. A chance to prove himself to Ke Tau, whatever that might entail. The cold knot in his chest grew, and he mumbled what he knew to be true. “It’s for the greater good.”

  For a second, his mind drifted away as a memory returned to haunt him. The sight of soft brown eyes clouding over in death, full lips gasping a silent plea for mercy as his hands closed over tender skin and squeezed. Why couldn’t he stop squeezing?

  “I have no choice. It needs to be done.” This time, Michael wasn’t sure for what, or who, the words were intended.

  Chapter 4 - Max

  Max stood with one hand shading his eyes while he studied the bare veldt around them. He saw no signs of life, not a single indication of the undead, but he knew they were there. Ever since Ke Tau launched the attack that took Rosa’s life, things had not eased for the inhabitants of the camp. In fact, they’d grown worse.

  Joseph straightened up from his crouch and dusted his hands on his pants. “It looks good. No sign of wear or sabotage so far.”

  Max grunted and ran his eyes along the barbed wire that made up the outer fence. The thick strands looked solid, the wooden posts immovable. Steel pipes reinforced the poles, planted diagonally into the ground. Rolls of razor wire were strung along the bottom, the sharp edges an extra layer of defense besides the moat that surrounded it.

  On both sides, the brush was cleared away leaving nowhere to hide and a clear field of fire. Inside the fence stretched a nine-meter wide fireguard. This was born not only out of fear that the dry summer could cause veld fires but also by the possibility of arson.

  They continued with their inspection of the fence, testing each section as they went. To Max’s right inside the perimeter, the fields lay bare after the late summer harvest. The crops had been sparse due to low rainfall, a worrisome thing to his mind, but Phillip had planted a separate section with winter vegetables and assured Max there would be a sizable bounty later in the year.

  At least the goats are doing well, Max thought. The hardy animals had proved a boon over the past weeks, neith
er falling ill nor needing a lot of care. They fed on the low brush and dry grasses around them, supplemented by kitchen scraps and a trough of water. In return, they produced milk, cheese, and on occasion, meat.

  Joseph nudged him on the shoulder. “We should get a few cattle.”

  “If we can find any,” Max replied. Though they’d raided all the nearby farms, they’d yet to find any living livestock besides the goats and a few chickens. The fenced in animals had proven easy prey to the voracious appetites of the infected, not to mention those that starved to death when their masters died.

  “We should go to the big farms. They cannot all be gone.”

  “Maybe, but we’ve got more important things to do than run after cows at the moment.”

  “Agreed, but I have a son now, and healthy boys need meat to grow.” As ever, when Joseph spoke about his son, Thabo, his eyes glowed like living coals.

  “Your boy is as healthy as a horse, just like his father. Besides, I’d rather go for a few pigs.” Max’s face took on a distant stare. “Eggs and bacon for breakfast. Yum.”

  “Pigs are dirty,” Joseph replied. “Just think of the smell. No, cattle are better. A nice, thick, juicy steak.”

  Max laughed. “If you say so.”

  They continued bickering about food as they walked, a not unusual topic of discussion lately. Everyone had his or her cravings for things they missed from the past. The most common were pizza, hamburgers, ice cream, and beer. Their argument ground to a halt, though, when a familiar sound made itself known.

  Max walked closer and leaned over the edge of the moat to gaze at the infected trapped within. It rasped a plaintive moan when it saw him, and its fingers scrabbled at the earthen walls surrounding it. An answering cry went up from further down the deep ditch, and two more figures shambled closer to join the first. The trio reached up with grasping fingers, eager to reach the human flesh that hovered so tantalizingly close.

  “There’s more of them today,” Max said.

  “Everyday, there’s more than the last,” Joseph replied. “Yesterday we pulled out eight during the morning shift.“