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Last Another Day

Page 11

by Higgins,Baileigh


  “Where's Henri?” she asked Morgan.

  “He's not coming,” Morgan replied. “He says he won't leave Hannelie.”

  “We buried her under the apple tree at the back of the barn,” Max added.

  “Let's go pay our respects before we leave,” Julianne said.

  Henri stood next to the grave, shoulders hunched. His face was drawn and pale but no tears could be seen. Yet his grief shone as brightly as the sun and Julianne's approached with hesitation.

  “Won't you come with us, Henri? We need you,” she asked, reaching out a hand.

  Wordlessly he shook his head. She dropped her hand back to her side. In silence, they held vigil over Hannelie's grave, each saying goodbye in their own way. After a few minutes, Henri left, striding off into the veld with a mere nod and a wave.

  “We need to go now, Mom. I know it's hard but we can't force him to join us,” Max said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  “I know. It's not easy, though.” With a heavy heart, Julianne turned and left. As the farm that had been their home for the past six weeks receded into the background, Julianne bit back tears. This was a new beginning.

  Then why does it feel so much like the end?

  11

  Chapter 11 - Max

  The sun beat down on the earth with relentless force as it scorched away greenery, evaporated all traces of moisture and generally sapped a person's will to live. Wiping the sweat off his face with the tail of his shirt, Max sighed as he contemplated the next four hours of guard duty, exposed to the sun in all its glory.

  Summers in the Free State were normally hot but this was unusual. Speculations of drought were rife and morale was flagging as everyone suffered from the high temperatures.

  Climbing up the makeshift ladder to the top of their improvised fence, he surveyed the surrounding area with a pair of binoculars. Everything seemed quiet for the moment so he walked over to one of the ramshackle guard towers.

  It wasn't much but it provided shelter from the sun and boasted two lawn chairs. Morgan was there before him. They always patrolled the walls in pairs for backup. Max and Morgan had this shift. Sitting down in one chair, he studied her unnoticed.

  She seemed different. The sister he had always known was smart and beautiful but also deeply insecure. In her teens, she went through a Gothic phase, struggling with depression and eating disorders. After a few years, she picked herself up. She studied fitness and nutrition, becoming a successful personal trainer. Yet even then, she always questioned her self-worth. She married Brian and used him as a shield to hide behind from the world.

  Now Morgan was far more confident. The uncertainty that always shadowed her actions was gone. Max also had to admit she was proving to be a lot tougher than he thought possible. When they returned from the farm four days ago, she wasted no time to equip herself. Her standard uniform became a pair of black shorts, tank top and her old knee-high leather riding boots.

  The belt slung around her hips sported their dad's 9mm Parabellum on one side and a serrated hunting knife on the other. She was in great shape too, due to her former job, and he couldn't help but notice the way guys were eyeing her out, especially Logan. He wasn't sure how he felt about that yet.

  “What's with the frown, Max?”

  “Um, nothing much sis. Just thinking.”

  “Suit yourself.” Her lips quirked, suppressing a smile.

  He sighed. She could always tell when he wasn't being honest. As kids, they were very close and became even closer once they reached adulthood.

  They both took after their dad in athleticism, sharing a love for Nature, and possessing a daring, determined spirit. As kids, they got into endless trouble. Lilian, on the other hand, took after Julianne. Petite and delicate, she was every bit the lady and always acted responsibly and with restraint.

  Feeling restless, he got up and patrolled the fence. There were no zombies in sight, but he had learned that you couldn't take anything for granted in this new world and lingered. It gave him a chance to think about their situation. The time to leave was approaching fast.

  This place had been a good starting point but now they needed to move on. There wasn't enough space for all of them and they were too close to several heavily populated areas like Welkom and Thabong.

  Max stared down at the grounds inside of the fence, studying its occupants. Big Ben, with his large frame and benign face, was teaching anybody willing to learn, the basics of kickboxing. In his younger days, he was a champion and traveled the world to attend matches. After that, he settled down and opened a studio in Bloemfontein.

  Peter and Thembiso were two of his most eager pupils. Max chuckled as he watched them practice the moves. Angie also joined in. Short and petite, she was a fierce fighter and put all her strength into the matches. A former student at the University of Bloemfontein, she and her friend Susan escaped campus during the outbreak, joining up with Ben.

  On the road, they met up with Jacques and Armand, two brothers fleeing the family farm after it was overrun. Things had gone badly for the little group from there. Permanently on the run, they moved from place to place until they came upon Joseph and his wife, Tumi who was seven months pregnant. They headed for the nearest town, Riebeeckstad, hoping to find survivors.

  Their overnight shelter was stormed by a crowd of infected and they had to flee. Susan was bitten while shock sent Tumi into premature labor. Somehow they all ended up on Max's doorstep.

  With nowhere to go, the survivors opted to stay. This turned out to be a Godsend as each brought something valuable to the group. With the extra hands, their little fort improved over the weeks that followed. Max knew, however, it was time to move on.

  Morgan walked up and stood beside him.

  “I think we should have a meeting tonight. Discuss our options,” Max said.

  “Good idea,” Morgan replied. “We've got some decisions to make.”

  “That we do.” Max thought for a moment. “What do you think of our chances? Honestly?”

  “Honestly?” she shrugged. “I think we're living on borrowed time.”

  “Why do you say that?” Max asked, surprised at Morgan's fatalistic outlook. “You don't think we've got any chance at all?”

  “No, I don't. There's millions of infected and just a few of us. The army's gone and there's no cure or vaccine. We're screwed.”

  “I see.”

  “However, we've got a solid group and a great leader. If we fight for tomorrow, we might just get to see it. Or we might not,” Morgan added, grinning at Max.

  “You're enjoying this?”

  “Not enjoying. How can I enjoy something that killed billions of innocent people? My father, my husband and probably my sister and her family?” Morgan sighed. “But I find myself rising to the challenge and I'm determined to see it through, even if we lose.”

  Max was silent, not sure what to say. This side of his sister was one he'd never seen before.

  “Having lost so much, I now realize how precious life is and that we should savor every moment,” she continued.

  “On that, we can agree.”

  “Come on. We can talk later, discuss the great mysteries of life and all that but right now we've got work to do.” She punched him on the arm and pointed.

  Max turned to look and saw a trio of zombies making their way over to the fence. Thank God, they were slow ones. The fast ones always creeped him out, reminding him of The Exorcist.

  They hadn’t understood the virus or its progression but they had all noticed that freshly turned corpses were fast and agile, only slowing down once decay set in. Max supposed it made sense they would slow as their muscles and tendons rotted away but what none of them knew was why they rotted so slowly. Weeks after the outbreak the infected were still going, still a danger, though slow.

  Add to this, the occasional fast ones that cropped up and you had a volatile mix. Max surmised they were either other survivors turned recently or infected that had been sheltered f
rom the elements. Or they could be some form of advanced zombie. The last thought was one that terrified Max. He brushed it aside and readied himself.

  When the zombies came within reach, Max stabbed downwards into the nearest one's skull, killing it instantly. It wasn't a foolproof method. You had to get in a solid shot and aim right.

  The really shit part was disposing of the bodies, dumping them in an open field chosen for the purpose. The stench was incredible and the sight even worse but it had to be done.

  Dispatching the three zombies only took seconds. “Toss a coin on who gets to dispose of the bodies?”

  “Forget it. It's your turn!” she laughed.

  “Since when are you a shrinking violet? Typical woman. Making us men do all the dirty work.” With a great show of indignation, Max disposed of the bodies while Morgan kept watch, smirking with delight.

  The two brothers, Armand and Jacques, relieved them. Max couldn't help but notice the adoring look Armand bestowed on Morgan and had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Was every damn guy in this place after his sister? Personally, he thought Angie was a lovely girl, but she only had eyes for Armand.

  That night after supper all the young ones were put to bed, and the group convened to discuss the problems facing them.

  Clearing his throat, Max began, “I think the time has come for us to move to a more permanent location.”

  Murmurs broke out among the group. “Why do we have to move? We've got it pretty good here,” Armand said.

  “We're situated close to two densely populated areas, not counting this town. Could we fight off several thousand zombies at once if they attacked?” Max asked. “We also have to consider the long-term implications of this plague. What happens when the food and water run out and the fuel expires? How do we live? We can't scavenge forever.”

  Silence descended as the group absorbed this information.

  “We need a farm,” Jacques said. “We need to live off the land. Like the Voortrekkers. That's something Armand and I know.”

  Angie snorted, “Like the Voortrekkers? That would be like going back to the stone age.”

  Jacques blushed. “That's not true. They were pioneers, survivors. Our forefathers.”

  “They might be your forefathers but they're not mine. I don't have a drop of Afrikaner blood. I'm a hundred percent Greek,” she bragged.

  “Don't be rude, Angie,” Ben said. “What Jacques says is the truth. What will you eat once the shops are empty? You think it will last forever? Do you think the ancient Greeks had canned food?”

  Max took up the reins again, trying to regain control of the meeting. “Jacques makes an excellent point and I'm sure their farming expertise will prove invaluable.” He shot Jacques a smile and the boy blushed again, this time with pleasure. “As for the rest, we need to work together, regardless of our heritage if we hope to survive.”

  Angie opened her mouth to protest but after a pointed look from Ben, she subsided with a disgruntled huff.

  “Well said, Max. Any ideas?” Ben asked.

  “Our best chance of survival lies somewhere isolated, well fortified with a clean water source and space for livestock and crops.”

  “There's a place about twenty-five kilometers from here, on the way to Kroonstad. It's far enough to be safe yet close enough to make supply runs. It's large, fenced and stocked with wild game. There's water too, and it's smack in the middle of farmlands. We could find what we need on those farms to get started,” Morgan said.

  “Sounds perfect,” Max said.

  “Yes, but we should scout it out first. It could still be occupied or not suitable,” Logan interjected.

  “Good idea,” Morgan agreed. “I volunteer.”

  “I'll go with you,” Logan said, staring at her intently.

  Morgan shot him a loaded glance.

  “Actually, I have a different job in mind for you, Logan,” Max argued, shifting uncomfortably at the way Logan eyed Morgan. “We’re in urgent need of more guns and ammunition. I'd like to raid the police station in Welkom. It'll be a dangerous mission and I need you to back me up. You're an excellent shot.”

  Logan stared at him, not at all happy with the change of plans but unable to fault Max's logic. “Fine. Armand can join us. He's a crack shot too.”

  Nodding in agreement, Max opened his mouth but was interrupted by Jacques.

  “I should go with Morgan then. I can tell if the place is suitable for farming or not.”

  “Excellent idea,” Ben agreed. “Why don't you take Angie with you? I'm sure you three can learn to work together.”

  Jacques grumbled and Angie looked pissed while Morgan's mouth twitched in silent amusement.

  “This will be an interesting trip,” Morgan said. “We'll meet here at dawn. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” everyone chorused.

  “I'll make breakfast,” Elise said.

  “I'll help,” Joanna added.

  “Well, time to turn in. My old bones need their rest,” Ben said, effectively ending the meeting.

  Max was left behind with the distinct feeling he'd been had. In seeking to keep Logan away from his sister, he'd also lost all control of the meeting. “Hey!”

  “Don't take it personally, dear,” Julianne said, patting him on the back. “The best leaders know when to step back and let people get on with it.”

  With nothing left to do, Max took himself off to bed. He awoke just before dawn so he lay there, thinking about the day ahead. He didn't look forward to it at all.

  He rose and dressed in his full army uniform with boots, battle jacket, and webbing. Elise had cleaned and repaired it to almost its former glory. Then he slung his R4 over his shoulder and loaded up with ammo and grenades. Tucking his customary hammer into its spot and slipping on his side arm, he felt ready. Max strode to the common room with confidence.

  It seemed everybody was awake and the air buzzed with anticipation. The kids giggled at his gear and uniform and he couldn't help but feel a little macho as he took a chair.

  That faded when Logan walked in. Dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt with spiky black hair and a five o'clock shadow, he cut a dangerous looking figure. His lean body moved with predatory grace matched by that intense stare.

  Armand followed, looking nervous but determined. He was the eldest of the two brothers yet still young at twenty-three. Strong and fit from his active lifestyle on the farm, he was also an excellent shot due to frequent hunting expeditions. A solid addition to the group.

  Morgan walked in next, followed by her group. She looked a bit Amazonian with her hair pulled back and a steely look in her eyes. Angie cut a fierce figure with her dark eyes, olive skin, and black hair and Jacques seemed quite out of his depth as he tagged along.

  Max noticed with disgust as Logan made a bee-line for Morgan, claiming the seat next to her. In the beginning, she'd acted noticeably cool towards him but he persisted and her manner had begun to change as of late.

  Elise came out of the kitchen balancing plates like a pro, followed by Anna, Meghan, and Joanna. Breakfast was served, consisting of a solid helping of bacon, beans, and corn fritters for each and a glass of juice or coffee.

  Max dug in with gusto and silence descended as everyone settled down to the serious business of eating. Julianne sat at Max's table along with Anna and Meghan. The two girls had become fast friends and Max smiled to see them whispering and giggling together.

  “Hey! Keep your hands off my corn fritters,” Morgan cried, drawing Max's attention.

  Logan shoved the corn fritter in question into his mouth, chewing with gusto. “I'll trade you,” he said, winking at her. “Two fritters for a kiss.”

  He reached for her plate and she stabbed him with her fork, causing him to yelp. “Please, like I'd want a kiss from you.”

  Yet, Max noted the blush that crept up her neck.

  “Just admit it,” Logan teased, “you want me.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Elise walked over and
plonked a large lunch box in front of Logan. “So you don't eat your friends on the road,” she said, referring to Logan's now legendary appetite.

  This earned her a rare and dazzling smile. “You're the best, Elise.”

  Logan turned his attention back to Morgan and resumed his shameless flirting. Max shook his head. If she wants him, she'll have to learn how to cook because clearly, the way to his heart is through his stomach.

  Next to Max, Julianne noticed his displeasure. “What's wrong? Don't you like Logan?”

  “It's not that, Mom. He's a good guy. A loner and unpredictable but good. It's Morgan.”

  “What about her?”

  “Don't you think it's too soon? Brian's only been gone for a few weeks?”

  Julianne was silent as she mulled over his words. “What's too soon, Max? Six weeks might not seem like a lot but so much has happened.”

  “I don't know,” Max shrugged. “I thought she loved Brian, that's all.”

  “She did love him,” Julianne replied, “but he wasn't the love of her life.”

  “What?”

  “She settled, Max. She chose security and loyalty over passion. That's not a bad thing and if Brian lived, they'd probably have been very happy. But he's dead and now real passion is staring her in the face. Should she deny it?”

  “That's not what I'm saying. I just think she should wait,” he said, wondering if he knew anything about his sister at all.

  Settled? She settled for Brian?

  Max kept quiet after that and resumed eating, feeling chastened. Perhaps, Mom was right. Life was short. Even more so now. Could he blame Morgan for moving on? That started him thinking on different lines.

  What about me? What do I want? What am I waiting for?

  After breakfast, they loaded the two Nyalas with their gear and the two groups set off, each on their own mission. The going was slow as Max tried to sneak into town without attracting attention. Several times he was forced to take detours due to roadblocks and car crashes but after two hours they arrived at their destination. The police station stared down at them with a baleful glare from its windows. Max was in a quandary.

 

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