Children of the Apocalypse: Mega Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  The bungalow consisted of a tiny living room, a single bedroom, and a bathroom. Even though it was small, it was home, and she adored it. She hung up their coats and made her way to the kettle. It stood on top of a small antique cabinet that occupied one corner of the living room along with a few cups, saucers, spoons, glasses, and a jug of water.

  A tin of hot chocolate was her prized possession, and she doled it out sparingly most of the time. Tonight she was generous, however, and tossed a heaped spoonful into each cup followed by another of sugar.

  Michelle glanced at the roster taped above the kettle and sighed. No baths that night. While the kids would be happy about it, she’d been looking forward to a long soak in the tub. “Ah, well. Get into your pajamas, my sweets. Chop, chop.”

  They cheered, knowing it meant no washing for them. She followed at a more sedate pace and lit a few candles. Once they were all dressed warmly, she sat them down with the hot cocoa and a story.

  Huddled under a blanket with a child on each side, sipping the sweet concoction in their mugs and with the scene lit in a golden glow, she could almost cry from happiness. This was her favorite part of the day.

  Usually, after story time they’d play a board game, but it was late, and Jenny sagged in her seat. “Right. Time for bed, both of you.”

  Neither protested as she tucked them into their half of the bunk bed they shared. With a hug and kiss goodnight, she let them sleep while allowing the dogs out for their final bathroom break.

  Buzz and Princess roved across a small patch of greenery not far from her door, sniffing and squatting. She waited for them in the empty doorway, rubbing her arms and shivering. She wasn’t fond of the dark. Not after…

  Michelle shook her head to banish the images. That was in the past, as was the rest of her life. Her mother, father, brothers, and sisters; they all belonged to a different world, one she no longer missed. Not while I have Mark and Jenny.

  That night, she slept soundly and woke up refreshed and ready to face the day. Getting the kids out of bed took some doing, but at last, she had them dressed and ready to go. As they waddled out of the door in their thick jackets, she had to laugh. They looked like mini-Eskimos.

  Buzz and Princess charged outside to chase each other across the frostbitten grass, but came back soon enough when she filled their food and water bowls to the brim. It was enough to last them for the day, and after a quick rub, she left them behind with a clear conscience. As the only dogs in camp, they were pampered enough as it was, anyway.

  The walk to the chicken coop was cold and refreshing. The sky was lightening in the east with the promise of a mild day. The children chattered the whole time, and Michelle was happy to see them so animated.

  They slipped through the fruit orchard filled with trees planted in neat rows. Their grey trunks and bare limbs reached for the sky like beggars toward the sun, and dewdrops glinted on the few remaining leaves, now golden-brown and russet.

  At last, the chicken coop was in sight, built next to the carefully laid out vegetable gardens. Immediately, Michelle sensed something was amiss and halted. Her brow furrowed as she tried to pinpoint her sense of unease.

  The silence.

  It was too quiet.

  Where were the chickens?

  She pried her hands loose from the children’s and looked down at them. “Jenny, Mark…wait here, please. I’ll be right back.”

  Michelle walked toward the cage with slow, uncertain steps. Every sense was screaming at her. Something was wrong. She knew it.

  The first feathered body confirmed her suspicions. She knelt down and felt the downy soft underbelly. Cold. The hen was dead. A puddle of blood pooled on the ground where its throat had been slit. The head was missing.

  That bird was the first of many, all with their heads missing, and soon she came to realize the awful truth. Every single one of the chickens had been slaughtered. None had been spared.

  The door to the coop yawned open, and even as she felt for the keys in her pocket, she realized they were missing. Someone stole my keys. But who? Who would do that? Who would do this?

  With a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she led the children away from the scene and toward the common room where she seated them at a table. Hannah and Nombali were already there, preparing breakfast, and in low tones, she told them what had happened.

  Hannah gasped. “Who’d do something like that? It’s awful.”

  “I know. What do I do now?”

  Hannah stayed silent for a few seconds before replying. “Tell Breytenbach. Let him find the culprit. The man has a good head on his shoulders, and he’ll figure it out.”

  “I can’t bother him now. Not when they’re all so busy at the moment,” Michelle protested.

  “Tell him anyway,” Hannah insisted. “He isn’t allowed to raid or participate in heavy labor due to his heart problems. I know he’s been feeling out of place and frustrated. Perhaps, this is just what he needs.”

  “Maybe you’re right. We need to find out what happened,” Michelle said, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “Who better than the Captain?”

  “Call him now. The sooner he’s seen the chickens, the sooner we can pluck and freeze them,” Hannah said with a practical shrug of the shoulders. “Waste not, want not.”

  As Michelle left the kitchen in search of Breytenbach, she remembered Lonny bumping into her the night before. Her hand fingered her empty pocket where the keys to the chicken coop had been, and she wondered. Could it be?

  Chapter 10 - Logan

  Logan walked around his Land Rover with slow precision, checking each rim and tire for damage before popping the bonnet open for a closer look at the engine. Ten minutes later, he was up to his elbows in grease, fixing an oil leak.

  “What are you up to, Logan?” Nadia asked from right behind him, having approached without him noticing.

  Startled, he jerked upright and hit his head, causing a string of expletives to fall from his lips. “Shit, damn it, fu…what do you want, Nadia?”

  She laughed, raising an unrepentant eyebrow as she leaned against the side of the Landie. “Oh, nothing. Just checking up on you.”

  He cast her a baleful look. “Yeah, right. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  She sighed and eyed her chipped nail polish with a look of disfavor. “I was hoping I could go with you today. You know, on a raid.”

  “Why? You haven’t shown any inclination to go with me for ages. Why the sudden interest?”

  “No reason,” she replied with airy indifference, folding her arms across her leather jacket. “I just feel like spending more time with you.”

  “And lover boy? Where’s he?”

  She shrugged. “Going out with Martin.”

  “Did you two have a fight?”

  “No,” she replied, but he was quick to notice the way her lips tightened.

  “Ah, so that’s it. A lover’s quarrel,” he said with a snort. “Happy to know I’m your second best choice.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re always my first choice, Logan,” she said. “Besides, I could use a break from moat duty.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll give you that. Shitty job, to say the least.”

  She shuddered. “It’s getting worse too. More and more infected every day.”

  He straightened up and wiped his hands on a cloth before closing the truck’s bonnet. “How bad is it really?”

  Nadia shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know how long we can last. If these new defenses don’t work or isn’t put up soon enough…”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve spoken to Lisa, Caleb, and Donya. They all feel the same. This place…it feels like a house of cards on the verge of collapse.”

  “Are you sorry you chose to stay?” he asked, eyeing her expression with care.

  She thought about it for a moment before answering. “I’m not sorry about the people. They’ve accepted me, as I am, without reservation, and maybe Dr. Lange c
an cure me.”

  “But?”

  “But I’m not sure this place is viable in the long run, Logan. I keep waking up in the middle of the night, expecting it to be overrun with infected.” She chewed on her bottom lip before adding, “I’m scared here, while I was never scared at St. Francis.”

  Logan nodded. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

  “You do?”

  “Yup, and I intend to speak to both Max and Martin about it.”

  Nadia blew out a breath. “That’d be great. If we could all move there, I mean.”

  “Yes, but convincing the others won’t be so easy,” Logan said, opening the driver’s door and sliding in behind the wheel. “People are stuck in their ways. They like routine.”

  “Tell me about it,” she replied with a huff as she climbed in next to him. “Caleb doesn’t want me going on raids. Routine is better, he says. Moat duty is safer, he says.”

  “Well, he’s got a point.”

  “Don’t you pull that crap on me too. I can’t get infected. You all know that. So what’s the big deal?”

  “You can still get eaten,” Logan pointed out.

  “So can he, but he still goes on raids!” she cried, her cheeks flushing blood red with anger. “So do you.”

  “Yes, but we’re men, Nadia. We’ll always, deep down, think we’re stronger and tougher than you, no matter how progressive we are.” He shrugged. “It’s a testosterone thing.”

  “Oh, please,” she huffed. “I’m just as good a fighter as any of you.”

  “As good as any of them maybe. Especially lover boy.” Logan said. “Not me, though.”

  She opened her mouth to utter a denial then subsided. “Yeah, okay. Maybe not you.”

  “I’m sure he just wants to protect you, Nadia,” Logan added. “We all do.”

  “I know, but holding me back is not the way to do it. It’s my life and my decision how I get to live it.”

  Logan nodded. “I know that. You’re too stubborn to keep locked up in a gilded cage. It seems Caleb hasn’t realized what a firecracker he’s dealing with.”

  “Well, he’s going to find out now,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smile.

  Logan twisted the key in the ignition, and the Land Rover shook to life with a satisfying roar. He patted the steering wheel. “Still going strong, my beauty.”

  “You know it’s weird talking to a car,” Nadia said with a smirk.

  Logan threw her a look of horror. “Did you just call her a car? Get out, you heathen. Out!”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry. Did you know it’s weird talking to your truck like she’s a person?”

  Logan stroked the dashboard with tender care. “She is a person to me, and you’d better hope she doesn’t dump our asses somewhere out of spite.”

  “Holding thumbs,” Nadia said as they pulled out of the gates, waving to Peter and Thembiso who had opened for them.

  Lisa and Donya were outside, preparing for a moat patrol, so they opened the second set of gates and dragged aside the barrier. Logan didn’t envy them one bit. He’d much rather be out there, in the fresh air, wild and free.

  So did Nadia. She was a lot like him in that aspect, which was why he allowed her to go with him on raids. Even though it was dangerous. Even though she might get eaten. And even though her arm still wasn’t fully recovered. Wrapping her in cotton wool like Caleb was trying to do, wasn’t the answer.

  “So, where are we going today?” she asked with a bright smile once they hit the tarred road.

  “I thought I’d strike out further today. Check out some unexplored places.”

  “Like?” she asked.

  “Bloemhof.”

  “Huh. Never heard of it.”

  “Exactly. I’m hoping nobody else has either.”

  “Good thinking.” She was silent for a bit. “Did you know, I used to stay not that far from here?”

  “Really?” He was genuinely surprised. She’d never said anything about the subject until now.

  “Yup. A few years ago, we lived in Kroonstad, about an hour’s drive away. My stepfather dragged us there for another one of his dead-end jobs. That’s when my little brother drowned. It’s funny. We’d never had a house with a pool before, and the…”

  “I’m sorry, Nadia.” Though he knew about Bobby, the raw pain in Nadia’s voice cut him to the quick.

  “It’s okay. It wasn’t all bad. I met my best friend there too. She’s probably gone now, but I’ll always remember Cat. She helped me through some tough times.”

  “Sounds like a good friend.”

  “Yeah, she was.” Nadia face lightened as she talked about Catherine and the adventures they’d shared, and he let her babble on while he drove. Anything to take her mind off Bobby.

  The conditions grew steadily worse as they went further and further from town, hitting the smaller back roads that wound through the countryside. Years of neglect that dated back to before the apocalypse now became evident, and potholes the size of trenches cut across the road.

  Recent rains had made it worse, and in places, it was impossible to stick to the tar, necessitating a detour onto the grass instead. The Landie, tough though she was, shook and groaned across these nightmarish stretches of land.

  Nadia had long since stopped talking, reduced to gritting her teeth and hanging on for dear life instead. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “No, I don’t, but we’ve come too far to turn back now,” Logan said through gritted teeth.

  “Which is fair,” Nadia conceded.

  They continued on in tense silence until the tiny town of Bloemhof loomed in the distance. Nadia let loose a low whistle. “Thank, God, we made it.”

  “Don’t be too hasty. We still have to get back, too,” Logan said.

  “Don’t remind me,” she said with a huff as they entered the main road running through the center of town.

  Logan ignored her and focused on navigating through the equally bad streets of the town though it was mercifully clear of vehicles and debris. However it went down, the apocalypse took this town by surprise and no looting or car crashes were evident.

  He spotted a few bodies, but they’d been dragged aside and stacked in alleyways and secluded corners. There was little rubbish either, and no broken storefronts or windows.

  “Where are the zoms?” Nadia asked. “I don’t see any. Live ones anyway.”

  “I think there must be survivors here,” Logan answered.

  “Yeah, it’s way too clean. Somebody’s been looking after this place,” she said. “Look, even the corpses are laid out and covered in newspaper.”

  “No point in looking for supplies, I suppose,” Logan said. “This place will be wiped clean.”

  “Guess not. Want to go back?”

  “Let’s have a look around first. We might strike it lucky,” he replied

  “Okay.”

  Logan canvassed the small town, looking for something they might have missed. It appeared not. The place was quiet, orderly, and empty. No zombies wandered about, any corpses were stashed out of sight, and the atmosphere was one of neglect rather than destruction.

  In a way, he even found it rather pretty. Nature had regained a foothold here, framing the houses with greenery. Grass pushed through the gaps in the concrete, ivy climbed up walls, and moss carpeted the sidewalks.

  “I kind of like it here,” Nadia said.

  “Me too. It’s peaceful.”

  She pointed at a faded board by the side of the road. “There’s a river and a bridge over there.”

  “Want to take a look?” Logan asked. “We might as well linger a bit seeing as we came all this way for nothing.”

  “Sure,” she replied. “Let’s take a break for a change.”

  Logan pointed the Landie’s nose toward the bridge, and they crossed over. The river flowed by underneath, high on the banks, full and strong. He was grateful that the bridge appeared intact with no visible signs o
f wear besides the potholes. It would be a sad day once all the bridges caved in. Neither he, nor anyone he knew, had the knowledge to repair them, and travel would be hard without them.

  “Soon enough, we’ll all go back to the old days,” he mused out loud. “No bridges, no skyscrapers, no ships, no television or satellites…”

  “No phones or hospitals,” Nadia added. “Do you really think so? I mean, humans built all this before, can’t we again?”

  “That depends. We didn’t have zombies before,” Logan replied. “Plus, when we lost ninety percent of the population, we also lost ninety percent of our knowledge.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. It’s kind of sad.”

  “Is it?” he asked. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?” Nadia asked. “I’d kill for a hamburger and milkshake, a good movie, a few new tunes, being able to kiss a boy without killing him.”

  “When I think back, I remember people stuck in traffic, working in tiny cubicles, paying debt and taxes, battling poverty, corruption, and pollution,” Logan said. “I also remember species dying out and stumbling across the poached carcasses of rhinos in the reserves I worked at. I remember plastic choked rivers and burning tires. Unrest. War.”

  “Yeah, okay. I get it.” Nadia looked out the window for a while. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I don’t want to be, not like this, anyway, but there it is.”

  “Do you think―”

  “Wait a minute,” Logan interrupted. “What’s that?”

  Nadia looked at the spot Logan pointed and saw a parked car with several figures milling around it. “Zoms!”

  “That means there are people in the vehicle,” Logan said.

  “Let’s go,” Nadia said with an eager smile. “There’s not too many of them.”

  “All right, but be careful.”

  “Of course,” Nadia replied, pulling two long thin metal spikes from her belt. Each had a t-bar wrapped in leather at the end for a handle. They were custom made for her, complete with sheaths, and she was lethal with them in her hands.

  Logan stopped a short distance away from the stranded car and honked. Several diseased faces turned their way, and milky eyes searched for their location. The crowd peeled away from their intended victims and shuffled toward them, cheered by this new bounty of meat.