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

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Seize Another Day (Dangerous Days - Zombie Apocalypse Book 4) Page 11

by Baileigh Higgins


  Max leaned back on his arms and closed his eyes while the scientist cleaned and closed up the jagged V-shaped cut. “What a way to wake up to a new day.”

  “I hear you,” Lange replied, slapping a bandage on the leg and handing over a bottle of pills. “Antibiotics to prevent infection. Finish the course.”

  “Okay, Dr. Lange. Thanks,” Max said, as he hobbled away on the sore leg.

  Outside it was chaos, and the fire still raged, but even as he watched, Joseph trundled past in the excavator, the growl of the engine adding to the general noise. He ran after it, wondering what on earth the man’s plan was.

  When they reached the common room, he watched in amazement as Joseph scooped up a load of earth and dumped it on the fire, effectively smothering it bit by bit.

  “Yes! Good thinking, man,” Max cried, cheering Joseph on.

  It took a long time and a lot of maneuvering, but eventually, the flames were down to a smolder. Breytenbach and a few others showed up with portable fire extinguishers fetched from vehicles and bungalows.

  “Thanks, Captain,” Max said when Breytenbach handed him one. “Let’s get this under control.”

  “About time too,” Breytenbach said with a growl.

  Working as one unit, Max and the rest covered the burning structure in the thick white foam, sighing with relief when the last flame winked out of existence. Embers still glowed amidst the wreckage, and smoke plumed into the sky, but the battle was over.

  Dawn had arrived, and Max turned in a slow circle to view the men, women, and children around him. Every soot-streaked face was exhausted. Every set of shoulders was slumped with a mixture of relief and despair. Relief that it was over; despair that all their supplies had been destroyed.

  Our time is up, he realized. My hand’s been forced.

  With a sigh, Max raised his hand and waved around him. “Everyone, over here, please. Gather around.”

  The people shuffled closer, their expressions blank for the most part. He knew what they were experiencing. The numbness that would soon give way to panic-inducing worry. He needed to catch them now, talk them down before they snapped.

  “I was waiting for the right time to bring this up. In fact, I’d hoped that in the end, it wouldn’t be necessary at all and we could stay here in this…our home, forever. However, things have changed.” Max sighed. “I never thought I’d say this, but we have to leave.”

  A nervous titter passed through the assembled crowd, and looks were exchanged at his words. Max raised his hands, and an uneasy silence fell as he continued. “I know this isn’t what you want. I know you’re scared, but this fire has destroyed all chance we’ve got of living here now. We now have no food, no clothes, no bedding, gas, or tools. No supplies at all.”

  “Can’t we raid for more, Max?” Elise asked. “I mean, this is our home. We don’t want to leave.”

  Max shook his head. “We’d never be able to find enough in time. Not while we also have to face our failing defenses.”

  “Failing?” Sean asked. “Since when have our defenses been failing?”

  “Ever since the fight with Ke Tau. During the struggle, part of our infrastructure was damaged, as you already know. We haven’t been able to repair it to its previous state. Not while we’re running low on building materials.” Max lifted his hands, palms facing up. “Add to that the increased pressure put on us by the influx of the undead and a shortage of hands, and we’re facing an impossible situation.”

  “Where will we go? How will we do it? It’s not like we can just pack up and leave?” Dave protested.

  “What about the wounded?” Hannah asked.

  “And us?” added Liz, the new lady with all the kids.

  “I understand your concerns, but we have no choice. None at all. It’s either go or stay and die,” Max said with slow deliberation.

  “For the record, I have already told Max that my town will be happy to take you all in. We’ll welcome you with open arms. There’s strength in numbers, and never has mankind needed that strength more than now.”

  All eyes turned to Martin who’d stepped forward to speak.

  “Is it safe?” Julianne asked, hugging Sam to her chest while one hand rested on Meghan’s head. “Will my children be safe?”

  “Yes. They will be safe,” Martin answered with utter calm.

  A commotion broke out as each person considered the implications of such a move, and Max let it carry on for a while before cutting in again.

  “We will, of course, plan the evacuation carefully to minimize all risk. The sick and injured will also be taken care of. You need have no fear of that.”

  More questions were shouted out, and Max did his best to answer, but for the most part, the meeting was over. People had already given in, far more easily than he’d have thought possible too. All thanks to the fire.

  After a time, the people dispersed, either taking up their shifts on the wall or at the moat. Whatever the damage might be inside the camp, the zombies were still a problem that had to be dealt with, and Lisa made sure they knew that. “The infected will be drawn to the fire, Max. Even more than before.”

  “I know. Do the best you can, Lisa.”

  “I always do.”

  Michelle and Nombali herded the children away to be washed and dressed, while Elise went from room to room looking for food to feed the people. “It might not be much, but I have to give people something to eat for breakfast.”

  “Thanks, Elise. You’re an angel.”

  “Oh, please. We’re all human, Max, and we all make mistakes,” she replied.

  Max studied her, noting the deep lines around her face. “Do you still feel guilty about that boy? Kabelo?”

  She shrugged. “I realize now that his actions weren’t my responsibility, but I should’ve been less trusting. Less easy to dupe.”

  “Elise, it’s your loving nature that makes you such a wonderful person. Don’t be a fool and let go of that just because of one bad incident,” Max said, squeezing her shoulder.

  She offered him a warm smile. “You always know what to say. It’s what makes you such a good leader.”

  “Glad I can return the favor. You’ve made me feel better on tons of occasions.”

  Elise walked away, her tread a little bit lighter, and Max made a mental note to spend more time with her. Though his various duties kept him busy, he needed to make space for the people in his life. That included his family and Kirstin too. Life was short, and anything could happen as evidenced by this sudden fire.

  Ronnie walked up to him and volunteered to take his team out on a quick supply run. “I know of a few places nearby that might still have something. Enough to last a few days, at least.”

  “Thanks, Ronnie. Whatever you find, deliver it to Elise or my mother. I’ll allocate new space for supplies while you’re gone.”

  “Sure thing, Max. See you later.”

  Max stayed at the site, picking through the smoking rubble. He was joined by Breytenbach and Julianne, but they soon realized it was hopeless. Very few things had escaped the fire.

  While part of the common room was still intact, the kitchens, laundry, and storerooms were gone. At least, the radio room had escaped the worst of it, and Sean set about salvaging the equipment.

  When they were done with their depressing chore, Breytenbach called him and Julianne aside. “So this is it? We’re leaving?”

  “I guess so. It seems like fate has decided for us,” Max replied.

  “Fate? Or someone in camp?”

  “What do you mean, Christo?” Julianne asked.

  “Nadia came to me a little while ago with an interesting story. Apparently, she and Cat saw someone wearing a numbered hoodie sneaking around last night.”

  “Any idea who?” Max asked.

  “No, they couldn’t make out his or her face. Only that the person was short and slender.”

  “That could mean any of a number of us,” Max replied. “But what has that to do with the fire?�


  “This fire burned too hot and too suddenly to be natural. I believe it was caused on purpose,” Breytenbach said.

  “Who would do such a thing?” Julianne asked.

  “I don’t know, but I also found an empty jerry can in the bushes over there after poking around. I figured the person might have tried to dump the evidence after starting the fire, and I was right.”

  “This was arson?” Max asked, not sure if he wanted to believe it, but it made too much sense not to be true. “Any relation to the chicken killer, perhaps?”

  “Maybe,” Breytenbach replied. “Anyway, I told Nadia to come back to me if she remembers anything else. I do believe we have an enemy inside the camp.”

  Max sighed. “As if we don’t have enough problems already. How do we catch this person?”

  “I’ll warn everyone I know we can trust, and I suggest we keep our eyes peeled for suspicious behavior.”

  “All right. Thank you, Captain.”

  Breytenbach shook his head. “Either way, I have a feeling our arsonist will overplay his or her hand soon enough and be exposed.”

  “Let’s hope so, Captain. Let’s hope so,” Max replied.

  As he surveyed the smoking rubble and blackened ground before him, he wondered what else would go wrong. Maybe this move really is for the best.

  Chapter 14 - Michael

  Michael moved through the brush with the ease of a leopard, placing each foot in front of the other with extreme care. His passage was silent, his shape invisible to the naked eye. He was a predator. A hunter stalking his prey in the night.

  After following Hiran’s trail for weeks, he’d finally found his enemy, holed up in a new position, one of significant advantage to the man and his followers. To Michael’s great disappointment, he’d arrived too late to save the Naval Hill Refuge from Hiran’s ravages.

  He wasted no time on empty regrets, though. What was done, was done. Now, he needed to focus on his mission and see it through to the end. It was all that mattered.

  When Michael reached his chosen vantage point, he stopped and dropped to his knees. For a few seconds, he waited, listening for anything that might be out of place. When he was satisfied all was well, he bent over and scooped a shallow trench out of the dirt with his bare hands.

  Once it was deep enough, he eased his body into the hole, but only after rubbing some of the mud across his exposed skin as camouflage. His dirt-streaked clothes blended in well with the damp leaves and twigs he lay on, and he carried nothing that could give off a reflection.

  He moved his rifle into position and propped up the barrel on a sturdy branch. It would provide a rest for the gun and improve his aim. Pressing one eye to the scope, he gazed at the camp below.

  It had taken him half an hour to get into position, and the soft drizzle of rain now played in his favor. It brought with it a chill that struck to the core and made the guards reluctant to wander far from their posts. They huddled around a small fire and smoked their cigarettes, their conversation a low monotone of mumbled voices.

  Michael lay as still as a rock, patiently waiting for the next phase of his plan. Until then, he watched, ignoring the occasional bloodsucking mosquito that buzzed around his face or the rustle of some small creature in the bush. A centipede crawled across his hand, its scaly back illuminated by a slender ray of moonlight. He eyed it with disfavor, but let it pass unharmed into the carpet of leaves he lay on.

  In the distance, an owl hooted. The small group of guards stirred, their superstitions coming to the fore. One spat on the ground and made a sign to ward of evil. It was widely believed the call of an owl meant death was coming.

  Michael’s lips pursed with grim amusement. If they only knew. Death was staring right at them down the barrel of a gun, and each and every one of them would die that night. He glanced at the moon again. The time had come to launch his attack.

  With the guards half asleep, they presented easy targets. He picked his first and sighted on the man’s temple. He’d drifted away from his friends and would now pay the price for it.

  Letting out a slow breath, Michael squeezed the trigger. Aided by the rain, the silencer at the end of the barrel muffled the shot, and his victim crumpled like wet newspaper. Before any of his compatriots even noticed, Michael had already shifted his aim to the next one with swift precision.

  One, two, three.

  As easy as that, it was done.

  Michael allowed himself a satisfied smile. Hiran’s fortress now sported wide-open gates. The next phase wouldn’t be as easy, of course, but he was confident in his abilities.

  He slithered down the embankment and quickly checked each of the guards, making sure they were dead. He stripped them of their weapons and buried it in a hole he’d dug earlier, hidden in a clump of bushes far to the side. A burlap sack would keep the stuff dry. One never knew when extra guns would come in handy, and he didn’t plan on leaving it for Hiran and his men.

  Afterward, he made his way up the hill, pausing now and then to listen to the night. It was empty, as he’d known it would be. The guard only changed every eight hours.

  He was alone.

  A man on a mission of death.

  When he reached the top of the hill, he paused again, mentally picking his way through the brush and the camp’s perimeter. For days now, he’d been watching the place, noting the men’s habits and ways, learning their shifts and routes by heart. Child’s play.

  In between guard rotations, he moved deeper into the camp, scaling a wall to get to the roof. Following its edge, he reached an overhang beneath which sat Hiran and his second-in-command on camping chairs.

  They lounged around a fire, legs extended and postures relaxed. Supremely at ease, they believed they were safe, never realizing the danger that lay above their heads.

  From here, it would become a waiting game until George left and Hiran retired to his rooms. If Michael moved quickly enough, he’d be able to follow the leader and surprise him in his bed.

  Michael had no illusions, of course. He knew this was a one-way trip. Once he was committed, there was no turning back. Hiran would die, but so would he. There were too many men for him to fight his way through, and they’d never willingly let him go.

  He didn’t care. He welcomed death. Welcomed its cold embrace with open arms. At least, I’ll have avenged Mpho.

  The night air was icy against his skin, but he hardly felt it as he waited. Waited for Hiran to make his move. He watched the rest of the camp go about their ways. Eating, drinking, fighting, gambling, and whoring.

  He felt sorry for the captives, for the women forced to serve these monsters. But even as his conscience whispered at him to help them, he hardened his heart, telling himself he was only one man. Their fate is sealed.

  Still, the stubborn whispers wouldn’t let up, wouldn’t let him rest. I could go back. I could tell Max. With their help, maybe we can rescue these women.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. No. I’m here for Hiran. No other reason.

  His ears pricked as he picked up on the conversation between Hiran and George, and he honed in on it, welcoming the distraction.

  “I want you to gather all the men tomorrow, George. I want you to drill them, to train them, to push them to their limits.”

  “Sure thing, Boss.”

  “I also want a list of all the weapons and ammunition at our disposal. Make sure of it.”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  “Because next week, we’re going back.” The glee in Hiran’s voice was evident even from a distance, and Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion. Back? Back where?

  Fortunately, the same question had occurred to George, and he asked, “Back where, Boss?”

  “To the site of our recent defeat. To a certain camp that dared to defy us.” Hiran fell silent then, and Michael could hear only the crackle of the flames.

  A creak sounded as if someone had shifted in their chair before George spoke again. “Are you sure, Boss? We�
��ve got it real good here. Why go back?”

  “Why? I’ll tell you why.” Hiran’s voice was low and threatening. It spoke of utter conviction bordering on madness. “I’m going to destroy that place and its people, George. I’m going to raze it to the ground until there’s nothing left but death and decay. I’m going to kill their children in front of their eyes, and rape their women while they watch, before crucifying each and every last one of them. That’s a promise.”

  Michael blinked, and visions of all Hiran’s recent victims flooded his mind, causing him to doubt his current mission. Men, women, and children, all murdered in the most horrifying of ways. He’s going to kill them. Dr. Lange, Nombali, Max, Breytenbach, Kirstin…the children. He’s going to kill them all. I can’t let that happen. Not now, not ever.

  He closed his eyes again and tried to focus on the task at hand. Kill Hiran. That’s all that matters. If he’s dead, the threat to your camp is gone too.

  But that wasn’t true. Michael was no idiot. Even if he did manage to kill Hiran, there was no guarantee George wouldn’t do exactly as his beloved boss had planned. Nor did it guarantee that they might not stumble across this place and suffer a horrible fate.

  Besides, the possibility remained that he would fail in his mission, and Hiran would live. As vaunted as his belief in his fighting abilities were, Michael was aware of the fact that life was never fair, and victory often lay in the hands of those who got in a lucky shot. Warn the camp first. Then you can get your revenge. It’s what Mpho would’ve wanted.

  With a sigh, Michael gave in and eased his way back off the roof and through the perimeter of the camp. He moved with extreme caution. The last thing he needed now, was to get caught.

  Along the way, he spied a figure lying prone in the dust. He paused before moving in for a closer inspection. It was Agatha, the previous leader. Her hands were zip-tied behind her back, and she lay motionless on her side. It appeared she was forgotten for the present.

  Every inch of her body was bruised and bloody, her face swollen and the fingers of her left hand dislocated. It was a wonder she still lived. George was a cruel taskmaster, a real sadist when it came to his appetites.

 

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