Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Max, stop him!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s a fucking zombie!” Ben shouted, raising his rifle.“Jacques, come back!”

  Things happened so fast, it all became a blur. Jacques stopped a short distance away from the girl and looked back at Ben, confusion written on his face. The enemy boy reached over her shoulder and ripped off the duct tape, revealing torn and bloody lips pulled back into a snarl. He cut her bonds with a swift stroke and shoved her forward. She growled and reached for Jacques, her hands latching onto his shirt. His eyes widened in horror, and he batted at her face.

  Ben aimed his rifle at her head, squeezing off a shot. It missed. She latched onto Jacques’ throat and tore out a meaty chunk. The boy screamed as blood spurted from the wound. Ben fired off another round, but shock and horror seized his muscles. He missed again.

  Jacques tumbled to the ground with the girl on top of him. Hoarse cries bubbled from his lips. She tore out another chunk and reared up, throwing her head back. Red blood flowed down her milky white skin, blending in with her dress. Someone else took the shot, and her head exploded into a fine spray of red mist. She was flung backward and lay splayed, her eyes staring at the blue sky unseeingly.

  Shots continued to fly back and forth. Joseph had pinned the enemy boy down behind a small wall. He appeared not to care about his life, having just screwed up his one chance to walk away. A final bullet fired from Max’s rifle shattered his skull, and the fight ended as quickly as it began. It was over, and the grass lay strewn with bodies, but Ben saw none of that.

  Jacques had rolled over on the grass, choking on the blood that gurgled up his throat. His hands reached to Ben, and his fingers clawed at the ground. Ben dropped his gun and ran to him. “Jacques!”

  He dropped to his knees and gripped Jacques by the shoulder. The boy’s eyes were glassy. His mouth worked, forming a word he couldn’t say: Armand.

  Ben worked to stem the flow of blood even though he knew it was pointless. When the light left Jacques’ eyes, he grabbed the boy’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth. “Fight damn it. Don’t die on me. Fight!”

  Joseph gripped his shoulder. “Ben. He’s gone.”

  Sobbing bitter tears, Ben slumped to the ground. “No. God, please, no,” he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks, mingling with the blood on his hands. “It’s my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ben,” Joseph said, but Ben knew the truth. He’d missed. He’d missed his shot. A shot that could have killed the girl and saved the boy. His boy. Ben cried out as agony gripped his heart with vice-like intensity.

  Max and Joseph searched the cottages and cleared the grounds, leaving him to his grief. They found no more people, either dead, living, or undead. They did find a burnt clearing filled with the remains of corpses, though.

  A field of death, Ben thought with bitter rage as he fixated on the dead gang members.

  “Burn them,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “What?” Max asked.

  “Burn them,” Ben repeated. “They don’t deserve a burial.”

  Max complied without argument, fetching a jerry can of fuel and lighting the bodies with a match. Together, they watched the corpses burn, acrid smoke stinging their eyes. The smell of burning flesh permeated their clothes.

  The girl, Jackie, they also cremated. It was the accepted way to deal with infected as they did not want to bury the bodies and possibly contaminate the environment, but they did so with respect and a murmured prayer.

  To Ben, it felt like the world had stopped turning. Not only had they failed to rescue the girl, but he’d also failed to protect his boy. I’m sorry, Jacques. So sorry.

  They wrapped Jacques’ body in a sheet scavenged from one of the cottages and loaded him into the back of a vehicle, but only after they ensured he would not reanimate.

  The sad little cavalcade drove through the gates, stopping only to secure it with a thick chain brought along for that purpose. The gunfire and grenade blasts would draw in any undead in the vicinity, and nobody wanted their new home to be overrun.

  Ben was in a haze, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions. Scenes from the past kept flashing before his eyes. His wife, smiling at him on their wedding day, then the gruesome discovery of her body. Susan lost and scared until he found her, then the life leaving her eyes as she died from the virus. Jacques, so young and eager, then choking on his own blood. He had failed them all. Tears coursed down his weathered skin unheeded, and he ignored Joseph’s concerned looks. What was there to say?

  All too soon, they arrived home. Ben’s heart sunk as he saw the waiting crowd. He got out, flanked on either side by Joseph and Max. It felt like he was in a lineup facing a firing squad.

  The smiling faces of the crowd sobered at the grim looks on the trio’s faces, and eyes danced around for the whereabouts of Jacques. It was Julianne who broke the silence. “Max? What happened? Where’s Jacques?”

  The question hung in the air, resonating through the expectant hush that had descended. From the back, Armand pushed his way through the people. His eyes searched, growing wilder by the second. “Where’s Jacques?”

  When no-one replied, Armand stepped forward and grabbed Ben’s arm. “Ben? Where’s Jacques?”

  Ben swallowed, his mouth gone dry and his hands trembling. “I…he…”

  “Where is he?” Armand roared.

  Ben shook his head and pointed to the back of the truck. Armand stormed over and ripped the door open. He froze, confronted by the blood-soaked sheet covering his brother’s body. He tore it off and swayed when he saw the terrible wounds.

  “No, not him. Not my brother.” A shudder tore through his body, and his shoulders heaved. He turned and glared at Max. “I trusted you. I placed his life in your hands. I believed you would keep him safe.”

  He snapped off a punch, hitting Max in the nose. Gasps of shock went around as blood spurted, and the cartilage crunched. Armand followed it up with a second blow that split Max’s lip before Ben grabbed him and wrestled him away.

  “It’s not his fault!” he said, strong-arming Armand. “It’s mine.”

  Armand stilled, and shock and disbelief chased each other across his face. “What do you mean?”

  “I could have saved him,” Ben admitted. “I had the shot, but I missed.”

  “Tell me what happened to my brother.”

  Ben glanced over his shoulder and saw Elise herding the children away as the group backed up to give them privacy. He focused on Armand’s icy blue gaze. In a guilt-stricken voice, he related what happened, leaving nothing out. When the last words died away, he waited, waited for the hatred and condemnation that was sure to follow.

  Armand stared at him, his face a blank slate. In an emotionless voice, he said, “You were like a father to him, to us. We trusted you with our lives.”

  He turned and walked away with Angie close on his heels. Ben’s knees buckled, unable to hold him up any longer. He fell to his knees in the dust and stared at his hands. His shoulders shook as dry, wracking sobs tore through his body.

  Joseph and Max gripped him by the arms and guided him inside, speaking softly in his ears. It was nothing but noise to Ben as he faced the reality that his whole world was collapsing.

  Chapter 19 - Lisa

  Lisa sat on the wall, basking in the early sunlight. She fingered the metal spear on her lap. It felt good to hold a weapon again, to be able to defend herself. It was something she needed after her ordeal.

  It was quiet. She liked it that way. The usual hustle and bustle were gone. It was just her and the sun and the birds. Peaceful.

  Michelle was inside, helping in the kitchens. Most of the others had left to prepare their new home for the big move. Only a few remained. She shuddered, thinking about that place. I don’t want to go back there.

  Her memories of that place tortured her. How could it not? The thought of living there was enough to make her scream, but she had no choice.

  A f
lashback caught her off guard, throwing her back to the moment when she was captured. She was walking along the highway, a rucksack on her back. In her hands, she carried a steel pipe. Her eyes searched for movement, either the living or the undead kind.

  She was tired and thirsty but dared not stop. She might never get going again. The sun beat down on her with relentless force, burning her skin to a dark ruddy red despite the sunscreen she’d slathered on.

  The sound of a car caused her to stumble. People! Living people! Maybe they could help her. She’d been alone for a week now. Alone and frightened to death.

  A truck appeared, dirty white in color. It slowed, the window drawing even. She smiled, a greeting hovering on her lips. Only to fade when she saw the muzzle of a gun pointed at her.

  Despite her protests, she was tied up and tossed into the back with cruel indifference. Whimpers met her ears. The back was filled with others like herself, all young and female except for two teenage boys. They were taken to a place, the place where Morgan found them. That night they dragged her to the fire and used her. Over and over and over again.

  Lisa fought against the memory, but it was too vivid. It intensified until she could taste the blood in her mouth. She could hear them, taunting and cheering; smell the odor of sweat and alcohol; feel them violating her inner being. They took everything from me.

  Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and burned fiery paths across her skin. Her chest constricted. Her hands fisted, nails cutting into her palms. She closed her eyes and found that place inside her. The one she ran to whenever things got hard. Her breath flowed through her nose. In, out, in, out.

  She stilled, mind becoming blank. The clouds drifted past overhead; a pigeon flew by; the breeze picked up. She felt nothing, heard nothing. Her heartbeat slowed, becoming regular once more. The panic passed.

  Opening her eyes, Lisa stood up. She did a slow circuit of the walls and thought about the people among whom she now found herself. She liked Morgan, admired her gutsy approach to life. Hannah and Elise as well. They were both warm and motherly, caring for her and Michelle with a sensitivity that she appreciated.

  Angie was a different story. Lisa’s lips thinned at the thought of the other girl’s callous demeanor. She made no secret of the fact that she resented Lisa and Michelle for the attention they got. If Lisa had to guess, she’d say Angie was spoiled, used to being the center of attention.

  “At least, she’s gone for the next few days.” Angie had moved to the new base to help with the preparations. It was a welcome reprieve from the girl’s cutting remarks.

  As to the rest, Julianne and Joanna were a little more aloof but pleasant, as was Liezel and Rosa. Tumi didn’t talk much. Shy and reclusive, Lisa had heard that she still mourned the loss of her child.

  She had yet to get to know them all, and the men kept their distance. That was a blessing. Especially for Michelle who struggled to cope. Of all the captives she’d been the youngest at sixteen. It’s a miracle she survived.

  Once more, Lisa’s memories betrayed her, and she was swept along on the tide of remembrance. A week had passed. The girls slept outside, chained to a tree, stripped of both their clothes and their dignity. Their captors fed them when they remembered, which wasn’t often, and used them whenever they felt like it, which was often.

  Their ablutions consisted of two buckets. One with drinking water and the other for bodily functions. At night, the mosquitoes drove them mad, and they scratched their tender skin until it bled. They bonded quickly. It was only natural that they’d turn to each other for comfort in their hellish circumstances.

  The teenage boys, Tommy and Errol, were a different story. Their purpose at camp was to provide free labor. They performed the chores their captors would not. They were grunts, but they got treated a lot better in return, a fact that made the girls jealous. There existed a state of animosity between the two groups.

  Then one night, everything changed. It was warm, and the men were drunk. They’d gotten hold of a few infected and had chained them to the tailgate of a truck. The zombies snarled, desperate to reach the flesh that tantalized them.

  It was terrifying to have the things so close at hand. Michelle sobbed softly into Mpho’s arms while Lisa prepared herself for the worst. Who knew what their captors had planned? And she was right.

  Tommy and Errol, who had thus far escaped the worst, now ran out of luck. Bored and jaded, their captors decided they were in need of entertainment. The boys were forced into a makeshift ring with the infected and given sharpened sticks for weapons.

  Errol fought, grappling with the nearest zombie, trying to keep its teeth out of his flesh. He forced it backward and stabbed it through the eye. It fell, but a second was already on him. He kicked it and broke the thing’s kneecap before he delivered another killing blow. The watchers cheered.

  In the meantime, Tommy sidled out of reach. Slim and agile, he danced around the stumbling bodies while his shrewd eyes looked for an escape route. He found it in Errol. Performing a few quick maneuvers worthy of a fox, he led the infected straight to his fellow captive. They fell upon the hapless boy, defying his attempts to defend himself.

  While they ripped into his flesh, Tommy used the opportunity to pick off the zombies, one by one. Lisa could still hear Errol’s screams when she closed her eyes, and see the look of triumph on Tommy’s face.

  Impressed by his ingenuity, their captors released him and made him one of their own. He turned out to be an apt pupil, the worst of them all, cruel and sadistic.

  Tommy was the one responsible for Becky being hung. He wanted to see what it looked like in real life. He was also the one who drove Mpho to suicide. She slit her wrists one night with a pair of stolen scissors.

  Perhaps, Lisa should have known better than to hope that Jackie would make it out alive, but hope is hard to kill. It burned inside her, the thought of what Tommy must have done to Jackie. Infecting her, hurting her, and who knows what else?

  Lisa crumpled to the ground. Sobs tore from her breast, cutting through her chest like a knife. They were my friends! Why did this happen? Why?

  She buried her face in her arms, hoping no one would hear her. Hannah hadn’t wanted her to stand guard, arguing that she needed more time to recover, but Lisa had insisted. She could not sit around anymore. She needed to keep busy.

  A soft hand on her shoulder startled her. It was Morgan.

  Lisa wiped away the tears, composing her face as best as she could. She did not want Morgan to think her weak. Nor did she want pity. She hated pity more than anything in the world.

  “Can I sit?” Morgan asked.

  Lisa nodded, unable to speak.

  Morgan sat down, folding her legs. “I want you to know something, Lisa.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  “What?” Lisa stared at her in shock. “You’ve got to be joking. I’m not brave!”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Back there, when I found you, you kept it together. You got Michelle out of there. It could have turned out very differently if you’d panicked.”

  Lisa shook her head. She studied her clenched hands and picked at a broken nail. “I’m not strong, I…”

  “You are. More than you know.” Morgan reached out and squeezed her arm. “This camp needs you, so just promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t let what they did to you, break you. Don’t let them win.” Morgan got up and dusted off her shorts. “I’ve got to go. Logan and I need to deliver material to the new base.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just remember. You’ll always have a friend in me.”

  Lisa watched Morgan leave, her throat thick with emotion. Morgan was right. She couldn’t let them win. She wouldn’t.

  Chapter 20 - Angie

  Angie’s lower back ached as she scrubbed at the inside of the freezer. The smell of disinfectant made her eyes water. It only barel
y overlaid the smell of rotting food. It was a nauseating mixture of spoiled fruit, vegetables, meat, and sour milk. It was now a week since they’d taken over the game farm, and the work that needed to be done was monumental.

  Armand and Joseph were installing a solar panel system on the main building complete with wiring, charge controllers, inverters, and battery banks. There was no running water yet. The borehole needed electricity to function, so they fetched it from the dam in buckets.

  Elise swore like a trooper. “Didn’t these people know what oven cleaner was?”

  The fumes emanating from her region was enough to put them all on a high. Joanna laughed at Elise and soon they were all giggling like schoolgirls. In the dining room, Liezel and Rosa looked over the breakfast counter at the three women and joined in after a moment.

  Childish laughter drifted through the windows. Anne and Meghan were playing on the lawn with Princess and Buzz. The little terrier bounced around on the grass like a jackrabbit, chasing a ball while Buzz chased her.

  Julianne sat in the shade, keeping watch with a rifle on her knees. She had pulled a muscle moving furniture and had been reassigned to babysitting duties. Ben also kept an eye on them as he cleaned up the yard and swimming pool. Angie didn’t envy him the task. She wouldn’t be surprised if he found crocodiles in there. She supposed they wouldn’t be keeping the pool—too much water. It would have been nice, though.

  Angie eyed Ben, wondering if he’d recover from the recent blows he’d suffered. He missed Susan and Jacques, that much was clear. Armand’s refusal to speak to him added to his pain. She found the whole business tiresome. Can’t they just get over it? People die all the time, especially now.

  She was fond of Ben, and he’d always treated her well, but his losses had made him selfish. He hardly ever speaks to me anymore, and when he does, it’s just about them.

  As for Jacques, she’d never liked him. He’d always stood between her and Armand, not trusting her with his brother. Good riddance.

  The problem was, Armand wouldn’t speak to her either now. He was so caught up in grief over his stupid brother, he ignored her completely. When he wasn’t mooning over Morgan, that was. Anger bubbled up inside. What does he see in her?