Seize Another Day (Dangerous Days - Zombie Apocalypse Book 4)

by Baileigh Higgins

“So you’re back.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Report,” Hiran said as he resumed his slow walk around the encampment.

  “It’s not as we thought.”

  “Oh?”

  “As you commanded, I took two men to scout the areas leading to the city. We found very little.”

  “Very little what?”

  “There are almost no zombies. The roads are clear and passable, and…”

  “And?” Hiran prompted.

  “We found a safe house.”

  “Safe house?”

  “Yes. It contained food, water, and medicine. Even blankets. All of which we took.”

  “Yes, yes,” Hiran said, waving his hand. “What else? What makes you think it’s a safe house?”

  “Because of this.” George produced a folded paper from the inner pocket of his jacket.

  Hiran took the paper from him and squinted at the neat writing in the light of the moon. “What is this? A map?”

  “Looks like it. And an offer of sanctuary to survivors.”

  Hiran read the message, committing it to memory. “Fellow survivors. Help yourselves to what you need. Leave that which you do not for those who follow after you.” He snorted before reading the rest. “All survivors who are pure of heart are welcome to join us at our base on Naval Hill. Proceed with caution.”

  “Naval Hill?” Hiran stopped and shook his head. “So let me get this straight. There’s a group of survivors on Naval Hill strong enough to clear an entire city of the dead?”

  “That’s what my reconnaissance trip showed me. Not only are the dead gone and the streets clear, but numerous signs and boards announce the existence of this so-called haven for survivors,” George replied.

  Hiran thought about that for a minute, chewing on his bottom lip. A large group of survivors meant danger, but it also meant guns, ammunition, food, water, and recruits for his army. Everything he needed to overthrow a particular camp back home.

  He turned to his second-in-command. “Get some rest, George. Tomorrow, you and I are going to Naval Hill. I want to see what we’re up against.”

  “Yes, Boss,” George replied with a smart salute before disappearing into the darkness.

  That night, Hiran found it hard to sleep as his brain kept churning over the possibilities. He’d thought it would take months, years even before he’d have what was needed to take out his enemies. But now…now he might be a lot closer to victory than he’d imagined.

  Everything I have is right here. I just have to be smart about it, he thought before drifting off, at last, only to awaken at the crack of dawn.

  He found George at the fire, dressed, armed, and ready to go. After a hasty meal, they got onto the road in a dusty old truck hardly worthy of the name. It blended in, though, and the engine was reliable which meant a lot more than fancy looks did.

  George drove, following the winding roads until they were close to their destination: Naval Hill. After hiding the truck in a cul de sac, they got out. From here on out, they’d walk.

  Hiran was interested to find that what George had reported was accurate. On the way there the roads had been clear of either corpses or car wrecks. Freshly dug mass graves in open stretches of fields pointed to the burial sites of the destroyed infected complete with wooden crosses to mark the locations.

  The closer they got to their destination, the more signs and billboards there were too. All announced the same thing: Salvation and refuge was at hand for those who were pure of heart.

  Hiran found that ironic. How, with man’s natural inclination for sin, could anyone be considered pure? The closest you’d get would be a baby or a child. These people are morons.

  With the truck stashed, they took their guns and set off. After a long, careful hike on foot through thick brush, foliage, and thorns, they reached the entrance gates to the hill.

  In the past, Naval Hill had been a wildlife refuge of sorts, smack in the middle of a bustling city. It boasted zebras, wildebeest, and even a pair of giraffes if memory served, though Hiran wondered if any of the animals had survived the outbreak.

  It made sense to use the place as a base. Not only was it fenced in with only one entry point by road, but it was mainly a giant hill surrounded by dense brush and trees. It was the perfect deterrent to the less than agile undead. It offered panoramic views of the surrounding areas, and at the top stood the iconic statue of Nelson Mandela as well as a planetarium.

  Cold-eyed men and women armed with rifles manned the gates which had been heavily fortified, and Hiran eyed them from his position behind a battered old thorn tree. A fly buzzed around his face, but he ignored it.

  They were not fighting their way in, that was for sure. Not only would it be too dangerous, but a firefight would be heard all the way up the hill and draw reinforcements down on them.

  He shifted on his haunches, easing a cramp in his lower back. With no clue as to the survivor’s real numbers or available supplies, a direct attack was out of the question.

  Hiran jerked his head back the way they came. “Let’s go.”

  With slow, careful movements, they eased away from their position and retraced their steps. A short time later, they were on their way back to camp, each silent as they considered what they’d seen.

  To Hiran, the way forward was obvious: Deception.

  They needed more information before they could act. That and an inside look at the Naval Hill Refuge as he’d come to think of it. And I know just how to go about it.

  A slow smile spread across his lips, and he cocked an eyebrow at his second-in-command. “Tell me something, George.”

  “Boss?”

  “Are you pure of heart?”

  George grinned, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. “Indeed, I am, Boss. My heart is as white as snow.”

  “Good. Because tomorrow, you’re joining the other survivors on top of the hill.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes, and you’re going to worm your way inside their camp and their hearts with your fine, honest ways. Got that?”

  “Got it, Boss.”

  “You and two others. Pick them for their innocent looks and ability to lie. We need brains here, not brawn.”

  “I know just the ones,” George replied.

  “Good, because by this time next month, I want every single one of them dead or kneeling in front of me.”

  Chapter 3 - Max

  Max wrinkled his nose at the smell of decay that emanated from the moat. The rasping groans of the undead filled his ears as he approached the edge with careful steps. A dozen rotten faces met his eyes, all upturned toward him with rabid hunger stamped on their features.

  “Oh, God. It’s going to be a long morning,” he said.

  “You’re telling me,” Breytenbach replied with a heavy sigh.

  “Tell me again why we volunteered for moat duty today?” Julianne asked.

  “We didn’t,” Elise replied. “We were forced into it.”

  “That’s right. I made you do this because you all needed to see how bad it really is out here. You’ve had it cushy inside the camp ever since the attack,” Lisa replied in brusque tones.

  Max arched an eyebrow. “Cushy? I’ve been working my ass off these past few weeks. We all have.”

  Lisa shrugged. “Maybe, but dealing with sleeping arrangements, duty rosters, and meal times is different from dealing with them.” She nodded at the nearest female zombie before stabbing it through the eye.

  The milky orb burst with a squelch and orbital fluid ran down the infected woman’s face. She collapsed to the ground leaving her eye behind on the tip of the spear, and Lisa shook it off with a grimace of disgust.

  “Ugh,” Max said, an involuntary shudder working its way up his body. Killing the dead never got better. It just got easier with time.

  “Things are bad out here, Max,” Lisa continued. “More than you realize, and you needed to see it for yourself. All of you did.”

  “I agree,” Kirstin said
, siding with Lisa, and Max shot her a look of chagrin which she studiously ignored.

  “I do realize, Lisa. I listen to your reports every day,” Max protested.

  “Yes, you do, but you don’t seem to understand my position,” Lisa said. “You put me in charge of security, right?”

  Breytenbach and Max nodded.

  “Well, I’m doing the best I can here, which is a hell of a lot more than most people would, but something’s got to give.” She threw her hands in the air. “We need to do something about these things. Ever since the fight, they’re everywhere, swarming the place.”

  “What exactly are you saying, Lisa?” Breytenbach asked. “Do you need more hands? More weapons? You know we’re running low on both.”

  Lisa sighed, and for a moment, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I’m saying. It’s just…it’s not safe here anymore.”

  Max and Breytenbach exchanged loaded glances.

  “You want us to leave? Is that it?” Max asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “You know that’s not possible,” Julianne protested. “This is our home. We fought for it. Some of us died for it.”

  “We might not have a choice,” Lisa said, her cheeks flushing with hot blood as her voice rose in pitch.

  “I’m not taking my kids out there,” Elise cried, flinging an arm out. “That’s insane!”

  Breytenbach raised a hand. “Hold up. Everyone calm down. Let’s finish the patrol and see first hand what the true situation is. Then we can discuss it.”

  “I agree,” Kirstin said as she joined Lisa’s side and aimed her spear at another infected. “Come on. The sooner it is done, the better.”

  “Fine,” Max said, grumbling under his breath while taking up a fighting stance. “Let’s do this.”

  Beneath their combined efforts, the dead fell one after the other until only the bodies remained. Silent, at last.

  While he worked, Max mulled over Lisa’s words. Admittedly, he hadn’t been out here in quite a while. As the leader of the camp, he’d been too busy with other things to bother much with moat duty. It was a crappy job, one he was happy to leave to Lisa and her security team.

  Afterward, came the even shittier job of loading the corpses onto their stretchers. It was dangerous work spent down in the pit levering out the bodies while keeping an eye out for more, but it had to be done. Leaving the corpses to rot would create a breeding ground for all sorts of diseases as Jonathan and Dr. Lange had warned numerous times already.

  Afterward, Max bent down and gripped the handles of his stretcher and lifted the heavy load into the air. With concentrated effort, he dragged the contraption forward as he continued his patrol of the outer fences with the rest of the group.

  Lisa took the lead and every few feet, they had to stop to eradicate more of the infected. At the same time, they also checked the fence for weak points which they marked with red streamers for Joseph and his building team to repair later on in the day.

  It was a good system, or so Max had thought. Sure, Lisa complained a lot about the growing numbers of the undead, but he’d brushed it off as being something they could handle. Until now. Now he was starting to wonder.

  Long before they reached the end, he was nearing the point of exhaustion. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, and his legs quivered with each step he took. Sweat poured down his face, and his lungs burned with the need for oxygen. He no longer knew what fresh air smelled like. All he knew was death and decay. Holy shit, how long is this fence? And how many more infected are there?

  Their sheer numbers boggled his mind. His stretcher was piled high, and the end was still nowhere in sight. He wasn’t the only one suffering either judging by the moans and groans around him. They’d all be glad when this nightmare was over.

  His eyes roved across the grounds outside their haven, over the tall yellow grass and thorny bushes that adorned the veldt. With winter reigning supreme, there was little greenery to be had, and the temperatures hovered between mild during the day and icy at night.

  Even as he looked, more zombies pushed their way through the undergrowth heading for the moat. Their peculiar gait marked them as old infected, their muscles atrophied and their sinews decayed. Barely human. No less dangerous, though.

  They didn’t wait around for the newly arriving undead and pushed onward, instead. Any fresh infected would be left for the afternoon’s team to take care of. Right now, Max and the others had more than enough on their plates as evidenced by their laden stretchers and contorted faces.

  It was with profound gratitude that Max spotted the gates which had been their starting point. Joseph and Lucas were at work restoring it to its former strength. That and the barrier that spanned the open gap in the moat. Both had been damaged during Ke Tau’s attack.

  Josh and Jed stood guard just beyond the barrier, taking out any zombies unlucky enough to stumble their way. A neat pile of corpses gave mute testament to their efficiency, and Max sent a silent message of thanks to Martin who’d decided to stick around a while longer. The extra hands were most welcome.

  Joseph noticed their approach and straightened up. “Good morning.”

  Max dropped the stretcher to the ground and flexed his aching hands. “How’s it going?”

  Joseph shrugged. “To be honest, there isn’t much more I can do without fresh material. We used most of what we had stopping up the hole in the inner wall, and even that wasn’t a proper job.”

  “Ronnie went out with a few others on a raid this morning,” Breytenbach said as he drew even with Max. “I know building supplies is at the top of their list.”

  “I hope they can get it,” Joseph replied. “We sorely need more of it, or we aren’t fixing anything any time soon.”

  After a brief period of rest, Max and his group filed through the gates toward the field where they burned all the bodies. Once rid of their grizzly burdens, they trooped back to camp in single file.

  Max didn’t feel much like talking, and neither did the rest judging by their thick silence. They all looked pretty beat, and the day had just begun. His admiration for Lisa and her team had grown at a rapid rate during the past hour. If this is what they have to face every day, several times per day, they’ve got balls of steel. No wonder Lisa is pushing for more people and equipment.

  Weary resignation set in as he faced the coming day. It wasn’t just Lisa. Everyone needed more hands. Joseph’s construction team consisted of himself and Lucas alone. Phillip, Abraham, and his son Abe managed the crops and animals while Ronnie’s group was down to four with only Kirstin, Lenka, and Mike to assist him. Thankfully, the Irishman had recovered fully from his burns.

  With the growing number of kids inside the camp, Michelle and Nombali had their hands full. The infirmary staff took care of the sick, and Elise, Julianne, Erica, and Tumi managed the kitchen, storerooms, vegetable plots, and duty rosters. Sean was in charge of radio operations, Breytenbach trained people to fight, and as for himself, he helped out wherever it was most needed.

  Lisa had the most people in her team with the freshly trained Liezel, Peter, and Thembiso to swell the ranks, aided by new arrivals Nadia and Caleb. Still, judging by one moat trip alone, it wasn’t enough.

  When he added the additional duties that everyone shared such as guard duty, laundry, cleaning, teaching, and grounds maintenance, it was no wonder they were all tired and on edge.

  Now more than ever, Max wished they hadn’t underestimated the nefarious Hiran. They could’ve used an injection of fresh blood via the women, elders, and children Ke Tau had kept prisoner, even if they meant added strain on their supplies.

  He also missed Michael, though he understood why the man had left. He was on a mission, and nothing but blood and death would stop him. As for Logan, he remained a loner, drifting in and out of camp as the mood took him. He never returned without supplies, though, so nobody complained about his lack of team spirit.

  Breytenbach’s gruff voice broke into his mo
rbid thoughts, and Max had to blink a few times to clear his head. “Huh?”

  “I said, I think it’s time for a meeting. We need to get our ducks in a row, see where we stand, don’t you think?”

  “Hm, yes. I agree. Will you arrange it, please?” Max checked the sun in the sky. “An hour from now, perhaps?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll round up everybody who needs to be there,” Breytenbach confirmed before marching away.

  Max stared after him, noting the military bearing still ingrained in the Captain even after all the years that had passed. Though semi-retired on Doctor’s orders, Breytenbach still wasn’t someone to fool around with.

  “He is a good man,” Kirstin said, appearing next to his shoulder like a phantom from the mist. “It is why I stayed with him all these years.”

  Max nodded. “I hope I can become half the man he is.”

  “You will,” Kirstin replied with a surety he found odd.

  “How do you know that?”

  “You have strength, but also compassion,” she said. “You are a good leader.”

  “I try to be,” Max said. “It’s not always easy, though.”

  “The good things in life are never easy,” she replied before looping her arm around him and pressing her lips to his cheek. “Except this. This is easy.”

  “This?” Max asked with a teasing grin as he pulled her close. “You mean us?”

  “You know what I mean.” She smacked him lightly on the chest before dancing away. “See you later, my love.”

  “Later,” he agreed, watching her walk away with those long legs and soldierly gait he loved so much.

  She flashed him a knowing look over her shoulder. “Stop looking at my ass.”

  “Never,” he replied with a grin.

  Once she was gone, Max turned away to go about his never-ending duties, but this time he had a slight spring in his step. No matter how terrible things got, it was always worth fighting for those you loved.

  Chapter 4 - Breytenbach

  Breytenbach did a quick tour of the grounds, looking for those who needed to attend the meeting for various reasons. Julianne walked with him, her body pressed against his to ward off the chill in the air.