Gen Z Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  She was about to climb the ladder when then unthinkable happened. Johnson’s foot came down on the ground and twisted. Even at that distance, Chas could hear the pop of the bone as his ankle broke. Head over heels, the tall Texan tumbled to the ground, dropping the injured soldier as well. They rolled across the packed earth until they came to a standstill not far from Chas.

  “Johnson!” Chas cried, turning around to run to his aid. Strong hands grabbed her by the arms, and she was hauled up onto the roof of the infirmary kicking and screaming every inch of the way.

  An infected howled as it caught up to Johnson and jumped onto his back. Rolling onto his side, Johnson tried to fight off the infected, kicking out with his good foot. He seemed to gain a little ground, but even as Chas watched, another zombie reached him. In front of her horrified eyes, the second infected bit into Johnson’s throat, turning his bellowing voice to a gurgling mumble.

  “No,” Chas sobbed, falling to her knees as she watched her friend die mere feet from safety, his struggles becoming weak before he grew still. “No, Johnson.”

  The man he’d carried to safety crawled to his knees and tried to make a run for it, chased by three more zombies. His fellow soldiers managed to shoot them down, and he reached the safety of the ladder. As they hauled him up, Chas caught a brief glimpse of messy black hair and frightened blue eyes. He was young, scarcely more than a boy.

  Hands grabbed Chas once more, and she was pulled back off the roof of the infirmary. The rest followed, the howling and screeching of the infected now audible as they reached the barrier formed by the infirmary and bashed their fists against it.

  Once they’d reached a safe distance, Chas stopped fighting the pull of her friends and watched with numb horror as Mathew blew the explosives, collapsing the building inward and permanently sealing all the openings. Within seconds, Galway and her crew were there, shoring up the mess with metal containers on forklifts until it formed a solid wall. The lower base was now gone, abandoned, and they were sealed into their new home.

  Lala pushed through the crowd until she reached Chas and grabbed her. “Chasity! Are you okay?”

  Chas turned a tearstained face toward her and shook her head. “No, Lala. I’m not all right. Johnson is dead. The zombies got him.”

  “Oh, hun. I’m so sorry. Come with me. Come away from here,” Lala said.

  Lost in her grief, Chas drowned herself in the comforting scent of her grandmother and followed her back to their tent. There she curled up on her bed, sobbing softly while Lala stroked her hair, crooning sweet nothings into her ear.

  “It’s okay, hun. You’re safe now. We’re all safe now. Sleep,” Lala said.

  But Chas knew the truth. Nothing was safe anymore. Nothing.

  Epilogue

  The next morning, Chas woke up to a sense of overwhelming loss. Instantly, the previous night rushed back, and she crumpled into a tiny ball of misery once more, tears leaking from her eyes as she relived Johnson’s death.

  For perhaps an hour, Chas mourned the loss of her friend before the urge to move got her going at last. She pushed herself upright on her bed, rubbing her swollen eyes. It didn’t take long to realize she was alone in the tent and peered at her watch. It was past eleven already.

  She stood up, noting that she still wore her jumpsuit and boots, having fallen asleep fully clothed. Stumbling outside, she noted that it seemed like the mountain was a hive of activity with people coming and going all over the show.

  She spotted Emily in the distance and hurried over. “Em? What’s going on?”

  “Hey, Chas. How are you feeling?”

  Chas waved the question away with a frown. “Just answer my question, please.”

  “Well, since last night’s attack, the zombies just seem to keep coming,” Emily said.

  “What do you mean, they keep coming?” Chas asked.

  “Exactly what I said. They’re streaming in for miles. It’s as if they know there’s food here. They’re thronging against the barrier, and Galway is scared it won’t hold.”

  “Won’t hold?” Chas said with a gasp, horrified at the thought of the infected breaking in. “We’d be sitting ducks.”

  “Exactly, so they’re all busy shoring up our defenses, making the wall both higher and thicker with whatever they can get their hands on. They’re even chiseling boulders out of the mountain.”

  “I want to see, Emily,” Chas said.

  “Don’t you want to bath first? You look terrible,” Emily said. “The zombies can wait a few minutes, can’t they?”

  “Fine,” Chas grumbled, making her way to the ablution block where she was allowed a two minute cold shower with a tiny sliver of soap and no shampoo. Even so, she felt refreshed.

  Back at the tent, she kicked her grimy jumpsuit and boots into the corner with a frown and pulled on her old clothes for the first time in weeks. It felt good to be dressed normally again, and the jeans and sneakers prompted a small smile on her lips.

  She still wore her knife and gun, though. Teen, she might be, but she was a fighter too, and nothing would change that. Running her fingers over the holster Johnson had given her, Chas allowed her grief a final moment in the sun. “I’ll miss you, Johnson, and your imaginary hat.”

  With a sniff, she pushed the emotions aside and let anger take the place of grief. Anger for the stupid zombies who’d killed so many people. Anger at whoever created the zombies in the first place, and absolute rage at Major Brown who’d abandoned them all to a fate worse than death. It was his fault Johnson was dead.

  Stepping out into the bright afternoon sun, Chas strode toward the barricade with a determined step. As she walked, she repeated one sentence over and over again. “Major Brown will pay for what he’s done even if it’s the last thing I do.”

  When she reached the wall, Chas was brought up short. “Holy cow!”

  Overnight, the barrier had doubled in size and height. She walked along the length of it, looking for a way up. There was none.

  Finally, she remembered the watchtower at the bottom of the pass and jogged over. She climbed up, gratified to see it was Mathew on duty. He wouldn’t chase her away. “Hey, Math. Can I have a quick look over the wall, please? Just a peek.”

  He hesitated, terror flickering across his face. “Are you sure you want to see it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I have to.”

  “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Math said, standing aside.

  With slow steps, Chas approached the edge of the tower. Her hands gripped the sides of the railing, her knuckles turning white as her body comprehended the horror long before her mind could.

  Spread out like a plague of locusts, was a sea of the undead, undulating like a wave before the wall that stretched from the side of the mountain all the way down to the river. The ones in the front scratched at the wall, banging their fists against it as they moaned and howled their eternal hunger. Those behind them seemed calmer, more content to stand and sway in the breeze that swept the scent of their rotting bodies into Chas’ nostrils.

  She gagged and lifted her shirt over her mouth and nose, her eyes watering from the stink. “Where did they all come from?”

  Mathew shook his head. “I don’t know. It seems like the whole world is here for us.”

  Chas snorted. Hardly the whole world, but certainly more than the population of Red Rock could ever hope to be.

  “We’re trapped, aren’t we?” Mathew continued, his terror shining through the facade he tried to uphold in front of her.

  “Not for long, Math. Not for long.” Chas allowed her eyes to sweep over the thousands of zombies, taking it all in for the last time.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, head tilted to the side.

  Chas turned to leave, a new sense of purpose spurring her along. “Don’t worry about it, Math. I’m just saying, not for long. Someone will think of something, won’t they?”

  “Uh, okay, if you say so,” Math replied, an uncertain frown t
wisting his brows.

  Chas climbed down the ladder, smiling as she mulled over the idea in her head. “In fact, someone already has.”

  The End.

  Gen X

  Prologue

  Chas paced up and down the length of the barrier, counting each step beneath her breath. Her eyes scanned the terrain, becoming familiar with every tiny variation, both natural and unnatural. Her breath puffed out in little white clouds, a reminder that summer was passing. The sun was rising later now, and a chill lingered this early in the morning though the days were still hot and humid.

  Besides the occasional patrol, she was the only one crazy enough to be up before dawn, but she couldn’t sleep. Not when her brain wouldn’t switch off, wouldn’t let her rest. How could it when everything she’d lost played over and over again on a video reel?

  Johnson.

  Julia.

  Alvarez.

  Sanchez, Williams, and Smith.

  But worst of all, Grumps.

  Vivienne too in a sense. Ever since they’d arrived at the so-called safe zone, Chas had seen very little of her mother. She was too busy tending to her patients in the infirmary, people who needed her more than her daughter did. Or so she thought. She’s wrong. I do need her. I’m lost.

  It was true. Chas felt rudderless, without purpose. She missed her grandfather, and her army friends. She mourned the loss of Johnson, another friend. More than that, she felt useless. Powerless.

  Ever since they’d retreated to the secondary base, Chas and her friends had been forgotten, ignored. Treated like children. Even though they’d been instrumental in getting everyone to safety and setting up the new camp, they were still spoken to in condescending tones and given menial tasks to perform.

  Early mornings and late nights were the only times she could be alone, free from the sympathetic glances thrown her way, and she relished in the freedom. Everyday found her by the barrier, tracing and retracing her steps with endless energy. She knew Vanessa and Emily were worried about her, but she hadn’t been able to talk to them. Not yet. Maybe today was the day she could break through the cocoon around her. Maybe.

  After walking along the barrier several times, Chas took a detour to a small clearing tucked away from the general population. Here she ran through a list of vigorous exercises, just like Julia and Alvarez had taught her. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, lunges, planks, burpees, and shadow-boxing.

  It felt good to push herself to the edge, to test her limits until her muscles burned and her lungs ached. It was good to be alive. To feel the rush of hot blood pumping through her veins and sweat cooling on her brow with the zing of accomplishment to spur her on. It took away some of the frustration she felt at their situation, the rage she harbored for Major Brown and his nephew.

  Afterward, she made her way to the watchtower. Mathew was there already, due for his day-shift. He frowned when he saw her but didn’t say anything. It was no use; she simply ignored him.

  With slow steps, Chas approached the edge of the tower, brushing past the silent Mathew. Her hands gripped the sides of the railing, her fingers turning numb as her body comprehended the horror stretched out before her.

  A sea of the undead, undulating like a wave before the wall that was all that stood between them and the camp. The ones in the front scratched at the wall, banging their fists against it as they moaned and howled their eternal hunger. Those behind them seemed calmer, more content to stand and sway in the breeze that swept the scent of their rotting bodies into Chas’ nostrils.

  She gagged and lifted her shirt over her mouth and nose, her eyes watering from the stink. No matter how often she smelled it, it never got any better.

  “They haven’t moved at all,” Chas murmured.

  Mathew shook his head. “They never do.”

  Chas sighed. “I wonder if they’ll stand there like that forever and ever if they could.”

  “Probably,” Mathew said, his voice shaking with the fright he tried to keep buried.

  It was a feeling most familiar to Chas. Fear.

  Today was the last time she’d come up here. Her grandmother, Lala, had forbidden it, convinced that the sight of so many zombies was driving Chas deeper into her shell of mourning. It wasn’t true. Nor was it making her lose her mind.

  What she was doing was facing her fears in an effort to conquer them. For she was afraid, deeply so. She’d seen what the zombies had done to Johnson despite him being such a good fighter and shot. She’d seen what they did to innocents who didn’t deserve to die. The infected didn’t discriminate. They didn’t care about young and old, children or babies. They killed without regard, without caring.

  That’s why she had to face them, get used to them. The smell, the way they looked. She wasn’t that kid on the Ferris wheel anymore. Bright-eyed and optimistic despite the odds in front of her. She was older now, wiser, and she knew that terror could freeze you up, could make you hesitate, and when that happened…you died.

  Chas stared at the sea of zombies, allowing all the scared, sad, guilty feelings inside to crystallize into a sense of resolve. It did, strengthening her belief that she had to escape, had to go look for help. If she didn’t they were doomed. All of them. I can do it. I know I can. I just need to come up with a plan, and I need my friends. It’s time. Time to talk to them.

  As she turned to leave, she smiled at Math. “Don’t worry. I won’t be back.”

  He frowned. “You won’t?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ve seen all I need to see.”

  “Uh, okay,” Math replied, an uncertain look twisting his face. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m great.” She looked at him. “Thanks for letting me do this every day. I know I was a burden to you.”

  “Um, not really. I was just worried. No one else wants to see them. It’s too scary,” Math said.

  “That’s why I had to look. So I don’t get scared anymore,” Chas replied.

  “Did it work?” Math asked.

  “I guess.”

  “I wish it would work on me,” he admitted, shuffling his feet. “But the more I see them, the worse it gets.”

  Chas stared at him, hovering on the ladder. “Embrace it, Math. Don’t let it swallow you whole. It’s the only way.”

  Chapter 1

  Chas sat on her bunk bed with her legs folded, contemplating the cards she’d been dealt with keen eyes. In front of her sat Vanessa, her face a blank canvas as she held her hand close to her chest. On either side, sat Emily and Dean, perched on top of wooden stools, their own cards fanned out between their fingers.

  They were all dressed in identical pajamas: a white t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and cotton socks, also dark blue. They’d just had a meager supper of watery vegetable soup followed by a speedy two-minute shower each. Their damp hair gleamed in the low light provided by the single light hanging from the ceiling. Supplies inside the remaining safe zone were being strictly rationed for the time being. Nobody knew how long it would be until help arrived, after all. If it ever did.

  Outside, it was as dark as sin. Thick banks of clouds hid the heavens from view and rain drummed a steady beat on the canvas roof above their heads. The small tent could accommodate four people in double bunk beds and this one was assigned to Chas, Lala, Vanessa, and Sarah. Vivienne stayed at the infirmary, and for now, so did Sarah, not having recovered from her illness yet. As such, the kids were playing on the empty bed, trying to take their minds off their miserable circumstances.

  Lala, Vivienne, and all the rest were attending a meeting on how to manage the new situation in the safe zone. Not that Chas expected much good to come from it. They’ll probably just bicker some more and vote to wait it out.

  Chas sighed and dropped her cards, unable to focus on the game. “I can’t do this, guys. I’m sorry.”

  Emily blinked. “Do what?”

  “Pretend like nothing’s wrong. Like the adults know what they’re doing. Like somebody is going to rescue us.” She folded her arms
. “We all know there’s nobody coming.”

  Emily hesitated. “Don’t say that. That’s what the meeting is for tonight.”

  “You know it’s true,” Chas insisted. “There’s still no sign of the CDC convoy or Alvarez. Not that they’d be able to do much against the horde that threatens the camp anyway. I’m sure something happened to them.”

  Vanessa dropped her cards. “You’re right, but I hope they’re all still alive.”

  “Me too,” Chas said, her heart aching at the thought of Julia and Alvarez, dead…or undead. Losing Johnson was bad enough. She couldn’t stand losing another friend. “Except, Major Brown, of course. He can rot in hell for all I care, and so can his idiot nephew.”

  Dean snickered. “We’re all hoping for that.”

  “Anyway, while the adults bicker over rations and living space, the zombies are going to keep us trapped in here until we turn on each other or starve,” Chas continued.

  “The adults will think of something. They’ll send someone out to look for help, I’m sure,” Emily insisted.

  “That’s not what I heard,” Dean said. “They’ve decided to stay put until the convoy comes back or a rescue party from Washington arrives. They just need to vote on it tonight, but it’s been pretty much decided already.”

  Chas snorted. “Like that’ll ever happen. No, I say we come up with a plan ourselves.”

  Emily shook her head. “It’s not that I disagree with you, Chas, and this time, I’ll stick with you guys whatever you decide, but…”

  “But?” Chas asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Have you thought it through? Even if we could escape the safe zone, and get past the zombies, what then? Where would we go? What would we do?” Emily reasoned. “Also, could you leave Lala behind? Your mom? Knowing that at any moment the barrier could fail and they’d die while you were out there somewhere?”