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

by Baileigh Higgins

  “No, I’m here to fight.”

  “Of course, but I have a job for Ronnie and Lenka,” he lied. “You can rejoin us afterward.”

  Breytenbach shot him a sharp glance. “Don’t patronize me. I saw Kirstin speak to you.”

  Julianne tugged at his sleeve. “Christo, please. You’re not well. I just got you back, and I can’t lose you again.”

  Breytenbach hesitated but drew himself upright even as he swayed like a reed in the wind. “No.”

  Max decided a more forceful approach was needed. “Captain, you’re of no use to anyone in this condition. You’d only be a liability. Go.”

  Breytenbach blanched, but after a second, he lifted his chin and said, “Ronnie, Lenka, stay here. I’ll take Mike to the clinic.”

  “All right, Captain.” Ronnie saluted smartly before hurrying to the wall to join in the pitched battle raging along its length. Lenka followed after a respectful bow to his leader.

  Breytenbach propped the suffering Mike up with one shoulder while Julianne took the other side. “Call me if you need me, Max. I’m not over the hill yet.”

  “Of course,” Max replied and watched the trio walk off. Once they were gone, he sighed with relief. “Thank, God, he listened.”

  Logan jabbed him in the ribs. “Breytenbach and your Mom? That’s new.”

  “We’ve got lots to talk about,” Max agreed.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Later, guys. Right now, we have a job to do,” Jed reminded them.

  “You heard the man.” Martin grinned. “Let’s go to war, little brother.”

  With the newly arrived reinforcements and arms, their chances of victory had increased. Max directed Michael off to the right side and Joseph to the left, each with a few others to help them. The rest he concentrated on either side of the gate where the fighting was the heaviest.

  Eschewing the cumbersome spears, they used their guns to take out the zombies ranged in front of them. The undead pushed against the barriers in a tidal wave of rotting flesh, and their stink rose above to fill the nostrils of the defenders. They reached for the defenders with searching hands, and their fingers scratched at the wall until the meat fell off the bone.

  Each volley of shots dropped a number of them, but more took their place in seemingly endless quantities. They trampled each other in their eagerness, and the sheer volume of their growls and rasps was enough to drive a person insane.

  “So where’s this Ke Tau Breytenbach told us so much about?” Logan asked, shouting to make himself heard.

  “Yeah, you can’t tell me this is all he’s got,” Martin added.

  “I’m expecting the snake to show his hand any moment now,” Max replied.

  Max was proven right mere minutes later when a squad of off-road bikes wheeled onto the grounds. They were fast and made sure to stay out of reach of the zombies crowding the walls. Each motorcycle carried a passenger armed with an automatic rifle and let rip at the walls as they flew past.

  People fell to the floor as bullets peppered their surroundings. A pained cry alerted Max, and he twisted his head to see Nombali crouched on her knees with blood pumping from her shoulder.

  “Peter,” he cried. “Get her to the infirmary now. The rest of you stay down.”

  He ducked beneath another hail of bullets and reached for the radio at his side. “Kirstin. Can you take care of our little problem for us?”

  The radio crackled, and Kirstin’s smooth voice replied. “Already on it.”

  Moments later, a rifle report cracked, and a biker cartwheeled through the air to crash land spectacularly. Infected swarmed the downed men, and their screams were loud in the afternoon air as they were ripped apart in seconds.

  “What the hell was that?” Martin asked.

  “That,” Max replied as another rider was blown clean off his ride, “is my girlfriend.”

  Martin whistled. “You’d better hold onto her tight, or someone just might steal her.”

  Max’s face took on a funny look. “You know what? You’re right.”

  Kirstin kept at it, picking off one rider after the next while the rest remained low and out of sight. The attack broke off quickly, with the last surviving quads racing back the way they came. When the last one disappeared, Max clicked on the radio. “Kirstin?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  Everybody around Max craned their heads to hear her reply.

  “Ja, jeg aksepterer,” came the simple reply in her native tongue.

  “Yes,” Max crowed, fist-bumping Logan. “She accepts!”

  People cheered as he raised the mic to his lips. “I’m honored.”

  She sighed audibly over the radio. “We have work to do, Max.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, turning back toward the fight with new determination.

  A line of trucks had entered the fray, their bodies armored with plates of steel. Manholes in the roofs sported mounted light machine guns, and the men who manned them were protected by iron boxes soldered in place with small slits to allow for visibility.

  Max paled at the sight. “Shit, those are 50 caliber’s.”

  “Probably surplus from the Angolan war,” Martin agreed, looking equally worried.

  Max waved his hands at the fighters on the wall. “Stay down, everyone! Stay down!”

  His words were followed by a barrage of automatic fire, the bullets peppering the walls at a rate of six hundred shots per minute. Where the walls were at their weakest, the rounds punched right through, and people screamed as they scrambled for cover.

  Max shouted into the radio. “Kirstin, can you take out the shooters?”

  “Negative. The targets are behind cover.”

  “Roger,” Max said, turning to Jed, Ronnie, and Lenka. “When I say go, lay down cover fire. Shoot at the tires, the windshields, anything. Keep them occupied.”

  They nodded, and he turned to Martin as he pulled a grenade out of his pocket. “Up for some fireworks?”

  Martin grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

  “Go!”

  With a wall of cover fire distracting the men in the armored trucks, Max and Martin tossed their grenades. They aimed for the undercarriages and were rewarded when the explosion ripped apart the chassis of the vehicles. One slewed to the side and toppled over as its wheel burst, while another crashed into the one in front.

  The grind of metal on metal and the shatter of glass was followed by screams as the infected descended on the meals now within easy reach. The rest of the trucks circled around for another pass, but a well-placed shot by Kirstin took out the front-runner’s driver.

  It ground to a stop, and the dead swarmed it, the manhole in the roof now providing an easy way in. Blood spattered the windows on the inside while the other trucks streamed past.

  Max and Martin tossed in their next volley and managed to crash two more. Faced by such a determined force, the rest decided to retreat. They zigzagged toward the outer gates in a crazy dash for safety, throwing up clouds of dust in their bid to escape.

  A cheer went up along the walls as everyone watched the enemy retreat for the second time that day. Max exchanged cautious smiles with those around him, and for the first time that day, he truly believed they’d make it.

  The radio at his side crackled. “Max? Max, come in.”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s another one coming.”

  Max looked toward the gate and spotted another truck, this one much larger, lumber through the entrance. Jagged bits of steel and sharp spikes were attached to the front bumper, and its wheels and windows were covered in iron sheets.

  It made straight for them, not seeking to pass by as the others had. Martin realized what it was in the same instant Max did and grabbed his arm. “It’s a battering ram!”

  “Kirstin. Take it out. I repeat, take it out now!” Max screamed even though he knew it was futile.

  Her shots pinged off the steel plating to zing harm
lessly into the air. Others added their fire, but the monstrous contraption kept coming.

  Max watched with horror as it headed straight for the wall, rolling over the undead in its path like they were dead leaves. It crashed into the barrier on the far side of the gate, and immediately a cry went up.

  “Breach! We’ve got a breach!”

  The truck reversed, and a crowd of zombies surged toward the hole. Max jumped up. “Follow me. Stop up the breach. We can’t let them in!”

  He sprinted toward the gap, followed by the others. He paused for a split second to grab Peter and Thembiso who still hovered in the background. “Call the others. We need everyone here.”

  They nodded, their eyes wide with shock before taking off to deliver this final message. Max and his group carried on until they reached the gates. For a moment, he stood frozen at the sheer horror of it.

  The wall gaped open with zombies clawing their way inside, stemmed only by the pitiful few who fought to keep them back. With a hoarse cry, he threw himself into their midst, adding his gun to theirs.

  He spotted Joseph and grabbed him. “We need to stop up the gap. Get the excavator!”

  Joseph nodded. “Hold them until I get back.”

  “We’ll hold,” Martin cried, echoed by those around them.

  As Joseph raced away, Peter and Thembiso delivered their message. Every available fighter streamed toward the breach in their defenses. Ke Tau had kept his best for last, and now they were in for the fight of their lives.

  Chapter 21 - Michael

  Michael was still fighting off to the far side when the call went up. Assisted by Mpho, Lisa, and Elise, he’d focused on picking off the undead that sought to encircle the encampment while keeping a lookout for Ke Tau and his men. He was joined halfway through by Abe, kicked out of the tower when Kirstin took his place.

  Engrossed in killing the corpses beneath his feet, he was thrown off balance by a tremendous crash. A tremor ran through the wall followed by frantic cries loud enough to rise above all the other noise.

  Seconds later, Peter and Thembiso came flying toward him, shouting, “Breach!”

  Michael grabbed Peter by the arm. “Where?”

  “Next to the gates. Max is calling everyone. The zombies are getting in.” The boy’s voice shook as he spoke.

  Michael let go of him. “Warn the infirmary. The woman and children too. Now.”

  Peter and Thembiso obeyed. They jumped off the wall and disappeared into the camp, their feet flying over the packed earth.

  “Mpho, Lisa, Abe, Elise, follow me,” Michael cried, turning away.

  “No, wait,” Mpho cried, halting his rush. “What about Ke Tau?”

  He frowned. “What about him?”

  “This is exactly what he does. He creates a diversion, and then…”

  “While everyone’s occupied, he sneaks through the back door,” Michael finished, his eyes narrowing.

  “Exactly,” she replied.

  For a few seconds, Michael thought it over. It made sense, but if she were wrong, a lot of people would die if the breach was overrun. He made a quick decision and prayed he wouldn’t regret it later. “Come with me.”

  His feet carried him toward the back of the encampment and away from the fight. The further away he ran, the quieter it grew until it felt like a world removed. The shouting, explosions, and gunfire grew distant. The walls were deserted; everyone had rushed to the front.

  The single exceptions were Ben and Sean still stationed at the secondary gate. They, alone, remained to guard this vulnerable spot, but their attention was fixed toward the front. Even the zombies had yet to arrive, granting Ke Tau the perfect opportunity.

  Michael hoped he was on time, but even as he ran, a dark head appeared above the wall by Ben’s feet. “Ben, watch out!”

  Michael waved his arms as Ben stared at him with a perplexed frown. The head and torso of a man emerged behind him and rose to its feet. White teeth set in coppery skin grinned at Michael over Ben’s shoulder. Carlito.

  “Behind you, Ben!” Michael screamed at the top of his lungs.

  Comprehension dawned on Ben’s face, and he began to turn. Carlito slid his foot long blade through Ben’s ribs with one swift motion. It went in as smoothly as a hot knife through butter, and the point pierced the older man’s heart. Instant death followed as the organ ceased to beat, and warm blood spilled from his lips.

  Carlito flung Ben aside like a piece of trash and backhanded the stuttering Sean with such force that the boy flew off the wall. He landed with a hollow thud inside the compound where he lay unmoving.

  Rage bubbled up inside Michael, and he threw himself at Carlito. “Today is the day you die!”

  “We shall see who dies, traitor.”

  Michael thrust his spear at Carlito’s abdomen, but the man stepped aside with effortless grace. He evaded two more stabs with equal ease before swiping sideways with his weapon. The point raked across Michael’s stomach and drew blood. A backhanded thrust cut across his bicep and another blow nearly impaled him through the neck.

  Hurt and bleeding, Michael lashed out with his foot and caught Carlito a glancing blow on the knee. The man was as swift as a snake, though, and stabbed downward into Michael’s leg. The blade left a deep cut along the inner thigh, and more blood spattered on the ground.

  Michael staggered back, and the two paused to consider each other. Behind Michael, Mpho stumbled to a halt and gasped. Carlito laughed when he recognized her. “There you are, my sweet little dove. Come to greet me, have you?”

  “Drop dead, Carlito,” she said.

  “Not today, my love. Tonight, you’ll warm my bed again, and I shall have my fill of you. Tomorrow, I’ll feed you to the zombies.”

  Carlito’s words cut through the rage clouding Michael’s mind. The man was quick and strong. Clever too. He was a tough opponent to beat, but not impossible. He backed up a step to gain room to maneuver.

  He threw a swift jab at Carlito’s head. The man ducked and responded with a cut to his face, missing by a mere hair’s breadth. Michael swept his spear across the gap between them and opened a slit on his opponent’s forearm.

  Carlito’s face flushed with angry blood, and he bellowed. He stepped forward and thrust at Michael’s head with his knife. It was an ambitious move, one which left his torso exposed for a split second.

  It was enough for Michael, who pushed the point of his spear into the man’s chest, angled upward. The long weapon sank to the hilt, and crimson blood spurted from the wound.

  Carlito’s eyes bulged. Fixed in place, a thin stream of spit drooled from his lips. A long exhale was followed by silence as he slackened into death. With a flip of his hand, Michael tossed the corpse over the side.

  Further along the wall, more of Ke Tau’s men were climbing over. A few were already inside the grounds. Abe wrestled with one, another lay dying, while Lisa streaked across the clearing after a third.

  Elise fired a shot at the nearest climber, and he fell with a wordless cry. Michael and Mpho added their guns to the fray, and for the next few seconds, they were engaged in a fierce firefight.

  When his gun emptied, he gutted one with his spear. The point went into the man’s open mouth and down his gullet. He dropped with a garbled scream, taking the spear with him.

  At last, the intruders abandoned their quest as infected streamed in, drawn by the sounds of the struggle. Their window of opportunity had closed, and the remainder fled, running back the way they came with several of the undead in their wake.

  A few had made it inside, however, and they ran toward the buildings while he cursed at their backs. He prepared to go after them and turned to Mpho. “Go to Max. Warn him there are enemies within the walls.”

  She hesitated. “Don’t die on me, okay?”

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she replied.

  Michael watched her go with relief before turning back. His gaze swept from Abe to Elise. Abe h
ad his attacker down on the ground, leaning with all his weight on a knife aimed at the man’s throat. As he watched, Abe pushed down with a grunt of effort. The blade sank into his victim’s flesh with agonizing slowness, and crimson blood welled up in a fountain.

  Michael looked away from the gory sight and hurried toward Elise. She’d holstered her gun and now huddled over Ben’s lifeless body. “Oh, Ben. Not you too. You can’t be dead. You can’t be.”

  Michael pried her away from the body and turned her to face him. “Elise, listen to me. Ben is gone. I know he was your friend, but he’s dead.”

  “I know,” she sobbed, her eyes red and watery.

  “But Sean isn’t dead, and he needs your help. Got it?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Sean?”

  “Yes, Sean. Erica’s husband. Henriette’s father. He’s lying over there, and he’s hurt. He needs your help.”

  Her face cleared, and she straightened her shoulders. “Of course. I’ll do my best.”

  He grunted with satisfaction. “Good. Can I leave you here with him? Will you be okay?”

  “Yes, yes,” she replied with quick decisiveness. “I’ll be fine. Abe can help me carry him to the infirmary. Now go.”

  Satisfied, Michael turned inward toward the camp. Several of Ke Tau’s men had made it inside and now posed a threat to everyone there. Warm blood trickled from his various wounds, but the worst was the cut in his thigh. He tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and tied it around with quick jerks to form a bandage. Next, he gripped his gun with his right and his knife with his left. Time to go hunting.

  Chapter 22 - Lisa

  When Michael decided not to heed Max’s call and run toward the back instead, Lisa followed without question, trusting his judgment. Stuck behind him and Mpho, she watched in horror as a stranger crawled onto the wall and killed Ben. Ben, who’d always been kind and fair to her, Ben, who’d treated her as an equal and not a glass doll about to shatter. I’m sorry, Ben.

  She watched as Sean was flung aside and when Michael challenged the man he called Carlito. That clicked a few things into place for her. Carlito was one of the men who’d tortured Lonny and tried to rape Ruby. Wherever Carlito was, Ke Tau was sure to be nearby. Hiran too.