Gen Z Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

He smiled at Vanessa in the rearview mirror, and Chas spotted her answering blush. She noticed the warm look in Dean’s eyes too and thought that her friend was wrong about him. He doesn’t just feel sorry for her for being a foster kid. Nope. He likes her. Like, really likes her.

  After the long, sucky birthday she’d had, that was the first bit of real happiness she’d seen. Vanessa was a great person and deserved to be loved. Besides, Dean was one of the good ones as far as she could tell. Never rude, never mean, always polite. Guess we’ll see what he’s made of tonight.

  Chapter 12

  Dean pulled the truck out of the garage and turned into the street with smooth precision, his driving skills more advanced than Chas would’ve given him credit for. As they accelerated up the road, Chas settled into her spot between the window and Emily with Vanessa on the far side.

  She had the knife she’d gotten for her birthday nestled in its sheath on her belt within easy reach, and her bat tucked between her knees alongside her backpack. Though tired, she was as comfortable as it was possible to be. Her tummy was full, her thirst sated, her bladder empty, and she had supplies. Thanks to Emily, her weapons and hands were freshly disinfected too.

  “Where to first?” Dean asked, whistling cheerfully to himself as he drove.

  “Andrew’s place. It’s the closest, and I promised,” Chas said, wondering how Dean managed to be so optimistic at a time like this.

  “Where’s that?” Dean asked.

  Andrew leaned forward, an excited smile wreathing his face. “I’ll direct you. You have to turn left over there, then make a right, and…”

  He droned on, and Chas zoned out, focusing on Emily instead. “I’m sorry about earlier, Em. I shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

  “No, it’s my fault. I was thinking about my family and clean forgot about yours,” Emily whispered back. “It was selfish of me.”

  “You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Em,” Chas said with a snort. “Besides, you relied on me, and I disappointed you.”

  “I don’t blame you. Tonight has been tough on us all,” Emily said. “You’re only human.”

  “Now, that you two have made peace, we’d better form some sort of strategy here,” Vanessa interrupted, leaning closer.

  “Strategy?” Chas asked.

  “Yeah, we don’t know what’s waiting for us at Andrew’s house, or Emily’s, or yours. And what about your mom? Are we going to the hospital too? That place will be a hot zone for infected.”

  “You’re right. There are a million things that could go wrong,” Chas agreed. “The first thing we have to agree on is what to do if we run across zombies.”

  “Especially, if they’re family,” Vanessa said.

  “Can you kill one if you have to, Em?” Chas asked.

  Emily paled, her freckles becoming more prominent than usual. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ll have to decide here and now. If we come across zombies, we need to know if we can count on you or not,” Vanessa said.

  “I know.” Emily’s voice was broken as she lowered her head to her chest, fidgeting with her nails.

  “They’re not human anymore, Em. They’re gone…lost. Would you want to be like that? Hurting your friends and your family because you’re sick?” Chas asked.

  “No, I wouldn’t. I’d want you to kill me,” Emily said.

  Chas sighed. “It’s horrible, I know, but it’s a mercy.”

  “Think like the scientist you are, Emily. Are those people even still alive?” Vanessa asked, drawing on Emily’s intellectual side.

  “No, they’re not. Once infected, the virus takes over, shutting down all systems except those needed to keep the host moving and spread the infection. It kills them on their feet. If a person dies during an attack, the virus moves even faster, reanimating the corpse within minutes,” Emily said in a clinical tone of voice.

  “You see? Is it murder to kill a dead person? Or are you in actual fact putting them to rest?” Vanessa persisted.

  Emily blew a breath out of her nose. “I guess you’re right. They’re dead already. I’d be killing the virus, not the person.”

  “Exactly,” Chas said, relieved to hear Emily was coming around.

  “It’d be different if it’s someone we know, though,” Vanessa added. “The simple fact that it’s a loved one might make it too hard to put them down.”

  “Yes, I think our best tactic when faced with a family member or friend gone zombie would be to remember it’s the virus we’re killing, but I also think the rest of us should be ready to jump in and do the job rather,” Chas concluded. “As for strange zombies, we stick together and watch each other’s backs. Always.”

  “Always,” Vanessa and Emily echoed.

  “We should also assume that any animals we come across are dangerous,” Emily said. “Also, not all uninfected people will be our friends. In times of crisis, history has proven that the worst in humanity will come out. It’ll be a case of the strong preying on the weak.”

  “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Chas said.

  “I have,” Vanessa said. “Not all people are good. I know this from experience, and in times like this, all bets are off. Remember that, you two.”

  Chas looked at Vanessa’s bleak face and wondered who had hurt her so badly in the past. She rarely spoke about it, and only in hints, nothing concrete. Still, it must have been bad judging by her trust issues. Poor Vanessa.

  “All right. So, here’s the plan. We stick together, we remember that the infected are no longer human, and we watch each other’s backs. After checking our houses, we proceed to the evacuation center. I’d guess it’d be best to get there as soon as possible,” Chas said.

  “What about your mom?” Emily asked.

  “I don’t know,” Chas admitted. “As much as I want to go to her, I know it’s a bad idea. The place would’ve been full of sick people, all of them ready to turn. What are the odds that she made it out alive and uninfected? We all saw what the fair was like. We barely made it out. Inside the hospital, it’d be ten times worse.”

  For the first time that day, Chas finally admitted out loud what she’d been dreading all along. That her mother must be either dead or a zombie.

  “Zero,” Emily said. “The odds are next to zero, Chas.”

  Tears burned Chas’ eyelids, hot and heavy, just like her heart. She wanted to deny what she already knew, what Emily had just stated in so many words. Her mother stood no chance. None at all. I might as well prepare myself for the worse.

  Vanessa reached past Emily and took Chas’ hand. “Listen to me, Chas. Don’t give up. Not yet. Not until it’s over. I know the odds are slim, but your mother is strong. Vivienne is one of the toughest women I know. If anyone could survive a hospital full of zombies, it’s her.”

  Chas stared at Vanessa, sudden hope blossoming in her chest. “Do you really think so?”

  “I know so, and I know everything, right?” Vanessa said with a wry smile.

  “Right,” Chas agreed.

  Vanessa leaned back in her seat. “Then it’s settled. After we’ve checked all the houses, we’re going to the hospital. Unless the rest of you are too scared, that is. In that case, you can go to the evacuation point by yourselves, and we’ll join you there after we’ve found Vivienne.”

  “No, no. I’m with you all the way,” Dean said with a disarming smile, and Chas’ estimation of him shot up another notch.

  Emily murmured her assent as well, and Chas squeezed her hand gratefully. It was good to have friends. Andrew, however, remained silent, and Chas could guess the reason. He’d seen his sister die, torn apart by zombies. His greatest wish was to get home and be reunited with his family. Anything after that, well, he was out, and they were on their own.

  Not that I can blame him, Chas thought. Not really. I would’ve done the same in his shoes. I’ll miss him, though. There’s nothing like an apocalypse to forge new bonds between people, and whether he knows it or not, he’s one o
f us now.

  Chapter 13

  Andrew leaned forward in his seat, his entire body quivering with suppressed excitement. “We’re almost there. Only two more blocks to go.”

  Chas perked up at the news and sat upright, turning her attention to the outside world. Thus far their trip had been uneventful. Too quiet, really. The signs of the infection were there, but they’d seen only a lone zombie or two along the way. Probably because of the National Guard evacuating people and clearing the streets of the infected. The zombies had tried to chase the truck, but they gave up after a while to look for easier meals elsewhere.

  As she looked out the window, Chas noticed the bodies for the first time. There were lots of them sprawled in the road, on sidewalks and lawns, and even a few slumped against their cars. What was most disturbing, however, was the fact that they were blackened, resembling charcoal, as if they’d been burned in a fire. A lot of them were still smoking.

  “Has it been like that the whole way from Vanessa’s house? The burned bodies, I mean,” she asked of Dean.

  He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, losing his cheery smile for once. “Yes, it has. You girls were talking, though, and I didn’t want to alarm you.”

  “What happened to them? Who’s burning them?” she asked, but it was a rhetorical question. She didn’t really expect an answer, and suddenly, she was glad their windows were closed. The smell must be awful.

  “My guess is the National Guard. They’re killing the infected and burning them in an effort to stop the virus from spreading,” Emily said in a low voice.

  “You think so?” Chas asked, disturbed beyond measure by the thought of soldiers going around killing and burning anyone who might be sick.

  “It’s what I would do,” Emily said with a shrug. “It’s only practical.”

  “But…what if they haven’t turned yet?”

  “What does it matter? They’re going to, and then they’ll kill and infect others. Rather stop it now before it gets out of hand,” Emily answered with cold logic. “At least, that’s how the government and CDC will think.”

  “Man, that’s messed up,” Dean said.

  “Seriously,” Andrew said in a worried tone. “I need to get home now.”

  “How far away is it still?” Chas asked, leaning forward.

  “Right around that corner, third house on the left,” Andrew said, pointing to a turn-off a short distance away.

  “Okay, here goes,” Dean said as he prepared to turn into Andrew’s street. “Keep an eye out for trouble.”

  Dean took the corner with smooth precision, driving slow, and everybody craned their necks to look for Andrew’s house. No sooner were they around the bend than Dean pulled to a stop, the engine purring quietly as he eased the truck into the shelter of a tree and a bank of thick hedges on the sidewalk. He switched off the engine and lights, plunging them into darkness, their breathing the only sound to be heard in the cab.

  “What are you doing?” Chas asked.

  “Look,” Dean said, pointing at a trio of soldiers standing on a lawn along with a middle-aged couple. “Something going on over there. Let’s check it out first before we show ourselves.”

  “Good thinking,” Chas said as she stared through the window, her mind working to make sense of the scene spread out before her.

  Two of the three soldiers carried automatic rifles, the steel barrels cold and unforgiving in the moonlight. They were some distance away, standing with their backs to her, and hadn’t noticed the kids in their truck yet. The couple looked scared, their faces wan and pale. A weird sense of premonition filled Chas, fueled by the torched bodies they’d driven past, products of the National Guard.

  “Hey! That’s my house, and my parents,” Andrew cried.

  Suddenly, the whole situation took on a deeper meaning as they were faced with people who were family, not strangers. Family in trouble too. Deep trouble.

  Andrew made as if to get out, but Dean restrained him. “Hold on, little bro. You won’t help your folks by barging in. See what’s going on first.”

  Andrew hesitated before giving in. “Fine.”

  The third soldier on the lawn carried a weird contraption with a long nozzle in his arms with a pipe leading to a tank on his back, and Chas squinted at it. Flames licked from the end of the nozzle. “Is that a flamethrower?”

  “Must be,” Emily said. “It fits with everything else we’ve seen.”

  “So, that’s the National Guard, and they’re clearing the houses and streets of infection,” Chas mused.

  “It’s what I said they’d do. The logical thing,” Emily said. “Kill any infected and burn the bodies. Evacuate all uninfected citizens to established safe zones.”

  A quick glance around the block confirmed Emily’s suspicions. The sidewalks were lined with bodies, some sprawled in the road as if they’d tried to run away. All were burned to a crisp and still smoldering in the aftermath. A few dogs lay next to their masters, their corpses likewise blackened to charcoal.

  An army truck was parked near the soldiers with floodlights attached to the roof. It lit the scene in a big pool of yellow, illuminating the soldiers and Andrew’s parents perfectly. At that same moment, a bus roared to life and drove up the street in the opposite direction, a few pale faces visible in the back windows.

  Andrew’s mom and dad stood on the grass in their pajamas holding onto each other, their bodies trembling with either cold or fear. They were the last people remaining on the block, and the bus carrying the survivors had left them behind. That could mean only one thing. Andrew’s parents weren’t going to any safe zones.

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Chas watched as the scene unfolded before her eyes like a trainwreck in slow motion. Andrew, hovering with one hand on his door handle, a wordless cry on his lips. Dean, Vanessa, Emily, and herself, all staring with uniform horror as the soldier nearest to the couple pointed an accusing finger at Andrew’s mom.

  “You’re infected,” he said, pointing at a bandage on her arm. It was spotted with blood in the shape of a ring.

  The poor woman shook her head vehemently, her lips forming one sentence. “It’s not what you think.”

  In the quiet of the night, voices carry, and every word was as clear as day, filtering in through the crack of Dean’s window. The soldier shouted at her once more before turning to her husband. He, too, had blood on his shirt, and a ragged wound peeked out above his collar. Andrew’s father waved a fist at the soldier, his face puffed up with rage, and his eyes bloodshot. Sweat poured down his skin, another indicator of the virus pumping through his veins.

  Before anyone could breathe, the soldier shot Andrew’s father. The bullet hit him in the chest, and a red flower bloomed on the beige material. The man collapsed with a gurgling cry, and Andrew’s mom screamed as she threw herself at the soldier only to fall when two more rounds tore through her body.

  “Mom, Dad!” Andrew cried with a look of sickened horror twisting his features.

  He launched himself out of the car before Chas could stop him. “Andrew, no!”

  Andrew ignored her, blind in his grief. He sprinted toward the soldiers at full speed, an incoherent howl of rage tearing loose from his lips. The soldiers turned as one to meet the new threat coming towards them.

  The nearest soldier was hardly more than a boy, his uniform too large for his skinny frame, and his freckled face filled with terror at the sight of Andrew charging toward him with teeth bared and hands outstretched.

  “Stop!” he cried, pointing his rifle at Andrew.

  Andrew kept coming, and Chas watched with dread as the soldier, scared out of his mind, pulled the trigger. The bullet burst from the barrel and knocked Andrew off his feet. He landed in a twisted heap on the tar, mere feet away from his parents. His mouth worked as he formed the words, “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry,” before he took a final shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

  The soldier who’d shot him stared at Andrew, his eyes wide
with horror. His teeth began to chatter, and his hands shook. “It was just a kid. I shot a kid.”

  “Oh, man. What did you do, Justin?” the other soldier cried, moving closer to stand next to him.

  “I didn’t know, I…thought he was infected,” Justin said, tears running down his face. “He was running right at me.”

  The soldier with the flamethrower walked up to look at the fallen Andrew. He sighed and put his hand on Justin’s back. “It was an honest mistake, man. You couldn’t have known. This whole thing is messed up. Killing people, even if they are infected…I mean, they’re still people. This is getting to us all and no wonder.”

  Chas listened to the entire conversation, frozen in her spot until the same soldier who’d spoken raised his eyes and spotted them. His features turned cold and his posture stiff. “Hey, you! Who’re you? Get out of the truck.”

  The other two soldiers likewise focused their attention on the vehicle filled with kids, and their eyes widened. Justin chewed on his bottom lip with a panicked look. “I killed their friend…right in front of their eyes.”

  “Focus, Justin. They might be infected. For all you know, this boy was too,” the soldier with the flamethrower said, nudging Andrew with his foot. He gestured at Dean. “Get out of the car with your hands above your head. Move it.”

  Dean looked at Chas. “What now?”

  “If we get out, they might kill us. We’re witnesses to a murder. Their murder,” Chas mumbled, her eyes fixed on the three soldiers who were now advancing on the truck with measured steps.

  “Kill us?” Emily said in a squeaky voice.

  “To keep us quiet,” Chas said, though Justin didn’t look like the killing type. Was it worth taking a chance, though? No.

  “Get us out of here, Dean. Now,” Chas said urgently. She slammed her hand on the back of his seat. “Drive!”

  Dean obeyed, shifting into gear and jamming his foot on the gas. In a cloud of exhaust smoke, he tore away from the tragic scene, leaving the soldiers to run after them with muttered threats.