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Dangerous Days (Book 2): Survive Another Day [Short Story Collection Vol. I]

Page 2

by Higgins, Baileigh


  There. That should do it. Ibuprofen is for inflammation and fever right?

  Several anxious minutes later, the burn subsided, the heat bleeding off to a bearable level. With a sigh of relief, Brian settled down, falling asleep again.

  Hours later, he awoke. The sheets beneath him were soaked. His breathing was ragged and his mind was foggy: A desolate landscape covered in mist. He struggled to remember...remember what?

  Morgan.

  He reached out a hand to the empty space next to him. Blinking, he looked over to confirm what he already knew. She was gone. He turned his head and saw the light in the hallway was on.

  Maybe she wanted a glass of water.

  A shudder tore through him, every muscle clenching and spasming. Fluid bubbled up from his stomach and he leaned over the side of the bed, vomiting black blood. The aftermath left him dizzy and his head ached.

  There was something he needed to tell...tell her...who...who is her? A thick blanket was settling over his thoughts. Brian reached for his memories, grasping at the fading remnants of self that still existed.

  Morgan's in danger.

  I'm...I'm...I have to...what? Who am I?

  ...

  ...

  Brian fell to the floor next to the bed, his head landing with a thud and his vision fading as his body shut down systematically and his heart ceased beating.

  I...

  I'm...

  Hungry.

  2

  Chapter 2 - Lilian

  Lilian's day started out much like any other. She arose early that Friday morning, got the kids ready for school and made breakfast, all while juggling doing her hair and finding the lost car keys. It was chaos. Little Michael insisted on helping her while Samantha sat in her high chair, entertained by the show.

  She tossed an over easy egg onto a plate and added two slices of toast, blackened around the edges because the toaster was set too high again. “Breakfast's ready.”

  “Coming,” Ronald answered. Seconds later, he rushed into the kitchen, red-faced and flustered. “I'm going to be late for my meeting.”

  “Calm down. There's still plenty of time left. Have something to eat,” Lilian replied. She smiled as she placed the plate in front of him, followed by the coffee. “Here's your lunch.” She handed him a Tupperware bowl. “And your car keys.”

  “I don't know what I'd do without you, sweetheart.” He smiled at her through a mouthful of egg and toast.

  “You'd languish in despair. Or you'd still live with your mom,” she laughed.

  She turned to Sam and spooned out a mouthful of purity, making animal noises for the baby's amusement whilst keeping a sharp eye on her son.

  “No, Michael. Eat your food. You know you can't feed Snowy at the table,” she admonished. The chihuahua in question looked up at her with pleading eyes, and her stern demeanor softened somewhat. “Don't worry, Snowy. Your breakfast is coming too.”

  Afterward, she saw Ronald off to work with a hasty kiss and bundled the kids into the car. Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to the kindergarten including Snowy, who loved car rides.

  Lilian eased into the stream of traffic leading to the center of town, noting that the volume of cars was a lot higher than usual. The line of vehicles slowed to a crawl, a gigantic metal worm gleaming in the sunlight. She sighed, mentally preparing for a long drive.

  Samantha squealed with displeasure, and Lilian reached back an automatic hand to put the fallen dummy back into the baby's mouth. Fumbling in her bag, she applied a slick layer of lipstick in the rear view mirror then cranked up the volume on the radio.

  “A viral outbreak that started weeks ago in Europe and Asia has reached the borders of South Africa despite efforts by the government to screen incoming flights. Cases have been reported in all major cities and citizens are cautioned not to panic.”

  The news report carried on before breaking off for an advert. “Outbreak? What outbreak?” Lilian asked. At that moment, a squad of police vehicles forced their way through the traffic, driving on the shoulder of the highway, followed by an ambulance. “What on earth is going on?”

  She craned her neck to see whether there was an accident ahead but her view was obstructed by a large truck. Cars were honking their horns, irate drivers making rude signs at a taxi that took the same route the police had, ignoring the laws of the road.

  “Michael put your seatbelt back on.” She leaned over and clipped it back in then rummaged in her bag for her cell phone. A feeling of unease had taken hold and she dialed Ronald, keeping a weather eye out for speed cops. The last thing she needed was a traffic fine.

  The phone rang several times before the familiar sound of his voice mail came on. After three more tries, she threw her hands in the air. “Dammit, Ronald. Answer the phone.”

  The strange sight of running figures weaving through the long line of stationary cars distracted her. They were running towards her and away from something she couldn't see, their faces wearing uniform expressions of fear and panic. The sense of unease blossomed to worry. What were they running from?

  The stream of fleeing people grew, several brushing past her car and one even bouncing off her side mirror. Worry turned to fear when one of the runners overtook another and pounced on the woman, biting into her arm. Blood spurted from the wound and they fell out of sight.

  Fright caused Lilian's stomach to roll as she gaped at the spot where the figures had disappeared, her mind stumbling to catch up. Michael gripped her arm as the atmosphere of terror reached him, his eyes like saucers. “Mommy? What's happening?”

  Snowy barked, sensing that something was wrong, her shrill yips adding to the panic growing within Lilian. She looked around for an escape route. There was none. They were trapped in the bumper to bumper traffic. She grabbed her phone and tried to phone Ronald again. Then she tried the emergency services. Neither call was answered.

  In the cars around her, pandemonium broke out as people tried to figure out what was going on. Not sure what to do, she grabbed her handbag and stuffed the phone back inside. Next, she unclipped Michael's seatbelt as well as her own.

  “Wait in the car, sweetie. Don't move.”

  A wall of sound washed over her when she cracked open the door, a mixture of screams, sirens, and shouts. A short, heavyset man ran past her then stumbled to a stop. “Ma'am, grab your children and run.” He heaved for breath, his face beet red and perspiring.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just do it. They're coming!”

  “Who's coming? What do you mean?”

  With a last terrified look, the man stumbled away, not answering her frantic calls. Pausing for a split second, Lilian made a decision. “Michael, get out of the car now. No, get out through my side. Come to me.”

  She opened the back door and took out Sam's nappy bag, slinging it over her shoulder along with her handbag. Then she removed Sam's car seat and lifted her out, gripping the handle. Turning back, she called to Michael and grabbed his hand.

  “We're going to run, sweetie. Don't let go of my hand, okay?”

  “What about Snowy?”

  “She'll run behind us.”

  “But...”

  “Just listen to me, please. Be a big boy now.” He nodded and she called to the dog. “Come on, Snowy. Come on.”

  The little dog jumped out, wagging its tail at the thought of going for a run and Lilian sighed with relief. One less problem to deal with.

  In this fashion, Lilian set off at a jog, pulling Michael along as fast as his short legs allowed. Others overtook them, their progress slow and her fear grew. What was going on? Who or what were they running from?

  She glanced over her shoulder. More and more people were abandoning their cars, adding to the chaos. A series of screams rang out, spurring her on as fresh terror spurted through her veins. Her mind was in a whirl, trying to make sense of the situation and failing. A bomb? Fire? Explosion?

  The nappy bag kept slipping off her shoulder, hampering
her progress. Her handbag bounced against her hip and the handle of the car seat slipped from her sweaty fingers. Michael had begun to bawl and Sam soon joined in, adding her shrill scream to the manic noise surrounding them.

  “Please, sweetie. Don't cry. We're almost there, I prom―”

  A body collided with hers, sending her reeling into the side of a car. The owner of the body turned out to be a young man who never paused in his headlong flight. More people pushed past and Michael screamed as his hand was torn from hers. “Mommy!”

  “Michael!” Lilian turned back, spotting him lying on the tarmac a short distance away. His knee bled, the skin was torn and tears streamed down his cheeks. “I'm coming, baby.”

  She struggled towards him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Before she could reach him, a young woman stopped and scooped him into her arms, her afro braids swinging around her slim arms. “Let me help you.”

  “Thank you.” Lilian flashed the girl a grateful smile.

  With the unexpected help, Lilian made better progress but the screams from behind were increasing in volume. Whatever they were running from was catching up. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest, and her arms felt leaden. A quick glance over her shoulder made her stumble in shock. A wall of people with crazed faces was coming towards them, a chorus of growls and snarls preceding them.

  “Hurry!” she cried, forcing her legs to go faster. Her heart sank when she realized they weren't going to make it. The mob was faster than they could hope to be.

  The girl carrying Michael must have reached the same conclusion because she darted into a side street. “In here!”

  For a second, Lilian hesitated but the screams and growls from behind spurred her on and she followed. They ran up the narrow street, entering a maze of narrow roads and alleys that backed onto bargain shops and takeaways.

  The area was poorly maintained, filled with uncollected rubbish, overflowing dumpsters, and puddles of water. It reeked of urine and rot, but the sounds from the main street faded to a dull roar and Lilian felt an immediate sense of relief. The girl pulled her down behind a dumpster where they huddled.

  “You keep watch while I see to my baby,” Lilian said. She unbuckled Sam and picked her up, stilling her hysterical screams while Michael watched, dried tears and snot clotting his nose.

  “Mommy, where's Snowy?” he asked.

  For the first time, Lilian realized that they had lost Snowy somewhere during their headlong flight. She swallowed. Michael's lip quivered, tears threatening to fall once more.

  “She's gone,” he cried.

  “Oh, baby. We'll find her. You'll see.” Lilian cleaned his face with a wipe. “She'll be fine, I promise. Come here.”

  With one hand, Lilian rocked Sam while the other pulled Michael in for a hug. Two hysterical children didn't make the situation any easier and she felt like crying too. Nothing made sense anymore.

  When Sam quieted down, at last, Lilian gave her a spoonful of medicine. It would make her sleepy and hopefully keep her quiet. Not ideal, but desperate measures are called for. She pulled out a box of fruit juice for Michael and gave Sam her bottle then looked up at the girl. “What's your name?”

  “Angela.”

  “Hi, Angela. Thanks for helping out.”

  “It's okay.”

  “Do you know what's happening?”

  “Not really. All I know is that a virus has broken out that makes people go crazy. They're attacking everyone, even...” Angela's eyes went to Michael's scared face, and she dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Even eating them.”

  Lilian shuddered. “We need to get somewhere safe.”

  “My house is safe. We can stay there. It's got high walls and my dad will know what to do. He works for the government.”

  “Okay. Sounds good. How far is it?”

  “It's in Sandton.”

  “We'll have to walk. What if we get attacked?”

  “We don't have a choice. We can't stay here.”

  Lilian fished out her phone and tried to call Ronald again. No service. “Have you got reception?”

  Angela shook her head. “I lost my phone back there.”

  Lilian thought for a moment but could come up with no alternatives. “Well, let's get going then.”

  They set off and navigated the sea of alleys, working their way through it block by block. In the distance, sirens wailed and columns of black smoke rose above the buildings.

  The city is burning.

  An opening between two buildings revealed another main street clogged with crashed and abandoned cars and they paused. Angela edged forward with her pipe raised and peeked out.

  “Is it safe?”

  “It's clear over here but I can see people at the end of the block. They don't look normal. I think they're sick too.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “I don't know. They're all knotted together.”

  “Should we chance it?”

  “We have to. We have to get across this street to get to my house.”

  Running from car to car, they worked their way across while keeping low to the ground. Thankfully, Michael kept quiet, his head slumped over Angela's shoulder while Sam had fallen asleep in her chair, lulled by the pain syrup. Lilian chanced a look at the throng of people, her heart jumping in her throat at the sight. Angela was right. They were gathered around something, maybe a car, swarming like ants. Lilian hoped it wasn't a poor victim but at least it meant they were distracted for the time being.

  Once across, they hugged the buildings, crunching over broken glass and debris. The sights that met their eyes was a terrifying one. A body was slumped over the hood of a car, blood pooling on the tar where it trickled down. More corpses littered the road, their last moments etched on their agonized faces and written in gruesome bite wounds.

  So many dead. Lilian averted her eyes and flashed a grateful smile to Angela who shielded Michael by hugging him to her chest.

  Fists slammed into the clear windows of a fancy boutique next to Lilian's face, and she screamed. A woman, probably a shop assistant, growled at them through the displays. Half her face was missing and Lilian stuttered in terror, unable to comprehend how the woman could still be alive.

  “Run!” Angela cried. “She'll draw more.”

  They sprinted away, dashing into another alley and paused, alert for any movement. Thankfully, it was empty and they hurried along, their raspy breaths loud to Lilian's ears.

  Time passed as they crept through the city, avoiding the busy streets whenever possible and hiding when it wasn't. The hours passed slowly. Early evening found them crouched between mounds of garbage bags. “We can't go any further tonight, Angela. We need to rest.”

  Angela nodded, face drawn with the exhaustion they all felt. Lilian dug into Samantha's nappy bag and pulled out more juice and a packet of sandwiches which they shared. It was precious little, though, and most of it went to Michael. Luckily, Lilian had packed enough formula for Sam to keep her satisfied.

  During the night, Lilian tried several times to phone Ronald and the emergency services. She gave up at last and huddled with the cell clutched to her breast, flicking through their family photos. Are you still alive, my love? Please be okay. Please.

  It was a miserable night, cold and empty, the air filled with unfamiliar sounds and rustling. Lilian's nerves tittered whenever a rat skittered past, her mind conjuring up wild images of monstrous faces leering through the dark. Her arms tightened around her children. I won't let anything happen to them, she promised silently.

  The next morning dawned cool and bright, the sun shining in mockery of their plight. Lilian rose to her feet, joints stiff and muscles cramped. If anything, she felt more tired than before but her determination never waned. “Come on,” she coaxed Angela and Michael. “We need to get to safety. It's not far now, I'm sure.”

  They set off, trudging through the litter surrounding their feet. The grungy buildings and back alleys gav
e way to broad streets and paved sidewalks as they entered a more affluent part of the city. Here the walls were clean of graffiti and the ground free of rubbish.

  Here too, the danger increased. Roving bands of infected roamed the street, cars clogged the crossings, and blood had spilled everywhere, evidence of the horrors of the night before. It looked like something out of the twilight zone. Lilian's eyes roved in constant search for danger. Their speed slowed to a snail's pace, their movements restricted to the availability of cover.

  Around noon, they were huddled behind an electrical unit waiting for a band of infected to pass. A low growl caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. Lilian turned her head, her guts churning with fear.

  A face from her worst nightmares crawled toward her across the pavement. It hissed through torn lips, strips of flesh hanging from its cheeks. Matted blond hair covered the scalp and a single blue eye fixated on her, a film of milky white covering the iris. Its lower body was missing, a string of entrails leaving a trail of gore behind to indicate its progress.

  Lilian smothered a shriek, her hand reaching for Angela. The other girl's brown eyes widened and she turned in a swift movement to prevent Michael from seeing the approaching monstrosity. They remained frozen, watching the thing crawl closer, unable to move for fear of alerting the other infected.

  Lilian's vision narrowed until the infected became all she saw, her mind drinking in every horrific detail. The rasp issuing from its throat, the torn fingernails scrabbling at the concrete, the congealed blood staining its clothes. A curious feeling of lethargy took hold of her and her will to live drained away. As the gap between her and the infected narrowed, a sense of foreboding set in.

  We're all going to die. This is the end.

  “They're gone. Run!” Angela's fierce whisper shook her from her torpor, bringing Lilian back to the present.

  Her fingers tightened around the handle of the car seat and she leaped to her feet, running after the fleeing Angela. Her eyes fixed on Michael's mop of hair and her maternal instincts rose. We won't die. Not today. Not if I can help it.

 

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