Gen Z Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Maybe we should stay the night,” Chas said as longing for her old home overwhelmed her.

  “I thought we were pressing on,” Vanessa said with a frown. “The sooner we find help for the camp, the better.”

  “I think we should sleep here tonight,” Emily interjected. “Chas is healing, but she’s still vulnerable. Dean is injured, and night is falling. We have no idea what we’re facing out there. It would be better if we were fresh and rested before carrying on.”

  Chas held her breath, hoping Vanessa would agree. She really wanted to spend just one night in her own bed again.

  Thankfully, Vanessa nodded after a quick glance at Dean’s face. As tough as he was, Dean looked pale and drawn, his injured arm cradled close to his chest. He must be hurting something awful.

  “Please, Vanessa. It’s my home,” Chas pleaded.

  “All right,” Vanessa said, pulling the handbrake up. “But, let’s check it out first. If it’s safe, we can stay.”

  “Okay,” Chas replied with a grin. “Sounds good.”

  With Vanessa and Emily taking the lead, they searched the grounds and house. It was empty with no signs of recent activity. A thin layer of dust covered the furniture, and the air had a musty scent to it.

  To Chas’ extreme disappointment, her grandparents’ room was undisturbed. All of Grumps’ clothes still hung in his closet, and none of his personal belongings were gone. He hadn’t returned to the house since the outbreak. That much was clear.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” Dean said, patting her on the arm. “He’s probably been too busy fighting zombies and helping others to come back here.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure Grumps is fine,” Vanessa added.

  “Thanks,” Chas whispered, but she couldn’t meet their eyes. They were just trying to be nice. To keep her hopes up. It was becoming more and more apparent, however, that Grumps was gone. Maybe I should just accept it. Mourn him. Say goodbye.

  But hope is a stubborn emotion and hard to kill. Despite herself, Chas couldn’t entirely accept that the man who’d raised her was dead. As she lay down in her bed that night, she made a promise. Grumps would never give up on me, and I won’t give up on him. I’ll keep looking until I find him. Even if it takes forever.

  Chapter 15

  The next day, Chas left her old home with a heavy heart. It felt like she was saying goodbye. For good, this time. At least they’d had a chance to rest and refresh themselves. Her leg was feeling better, and Dean’s arm appeared to be healing without any signs of infection.

  After a quick breakfast of canned spaghetti from Lala’s pantry, they washed up, packed their things, and loaded their bags into the truck. There was no sign of any zombies, and Emily surmised that they’d gone off in search of food. A few abandoned country houses weren’t enough to keep them busy…or fed.

  Chas took the time to wander around the house one last time, her fingers trailing across the familiar furniture and family photos. Maybe she’d come back one day just to collect her stuff, but she doubted they’d ever live there again. It was time to move on.

  “Ready to go?” Emily asked, her voice low.

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  Chas squeezed into the front seat between Vanessa and Dean with Emily perched half on top of her, and then they were off. Vanessa drove once more with Dean as navigator, and they soon left the countryside behind and hit the suburbs.

  It was an eerie sight.

  Spooky.

  Houses once brimming with life now stood empty, their owners either dead, zombified, or gone. No dogs barked at the mailman. No mom yelled at her kids to get to the bus stop on time. No anxious adults rushed to their cars, afraid of being late for work.

  Instead, weeds pushed up between the cracks in the pavement, gardens and lawns were overgrown, and front doors gaped open to the street.

  Chas shivered. “I don’t like this.”

  “Me neither,” Vanessa said, “but I’m sure it beats the inner city.”

  “Do you think there’ll be zombies?” Chas asked.

  Vanessa shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “If there are survivors, there will be zombies,” Emily pointed out. “But I think most of them have gravitated to the camp. They know there’s food, so that’s where they’ll stay unless something else draws them away.”

  Chas thought back to the sea of zombies that currently besieged their old camp and nodded. “You’re right. Most of them are over there. The town should be quiet.”

  “The big question is, where’s Alvarez and the convoy?” Dean said. “We need to find them. We can’t draw the zombies away from the camp by ourselves.”

  “No…we can’t,” Chas agreed.

  “And we don’t have much time either,” Emily said. “If we can’t find the convoy, we’ll have to come up with a plan ourselves.”

  “Did any of them mention where they were going?” Chas asked.

  “No, but if the CDC was on the hunt for something big, I’d guess they went to a medical facility. Maybe to find research or notes.”

  “Or, they could’ve gone to a government facility,” Vanessa mused.

  “That’s possible.”

  “Well, let’s try the hospital and clinic first, then the civic center,” Chas suggested. “We can keep our eyes peeled for any sign of them along the way.”

  “Or other survivors,” Dean said.

  “Right,” Vanessa said with a nod. “It shouldn’t be too hard to spot them. Red Rock is pretty small, and their vehicles are pretty big.”

  “It’s a plan,” Emily said, and once again silence fell as Vanessa steered them toward the city proper, each one staring at their surroundings hoping to spot the convoy.

  They’d barely gone more than a few miles when an ominous sound filled the cab. The rattling of an empty engine. At the same time, the truck slowed, losing power as it sucked up the last few drops of fuel in the tank.

  “What the…” Vanessa pulled over to the curb and slammed her hands on the wheel. “We’re out of gas. I can’t believe it.”

  “You never noticed we were running low?” Emily asked, her voice tinged with disbelief and anger.

  “I’m not used to driving, okay, Miss Perfect?” Vanessa retaliated, her cheeks turning bright red.

  Emily sputtered. “I never said I was perfect!”

  “You don’t have to. It oozes from your pores,” Vanessa said before slumping over the wheel. “I’m sorry, okay? It was stupid of me, I know. I should’ve checked.”

  Chas sighed. “Come on, you two. It’s nobody fault, and there’s no point fighting about it.”

  Emily pressed her lips together for a second before nodding. “You’re right, Chas. I’m sorry, Vanessa.”

  “It’s fine. Let’s just find a way out of this mess so I can feel like less of a dumbass,” Vanessa said.

  “I can hotwire a car,” Chas said.

  Three sets of eyes turned her way filled with disbelief.

  “You know how to hotwire a car?” Dean asked.

  “Yup. My uncle taught me. If the model’s old enough, I can do it,” Chas said.

  “Now I’m just jealous,” Dean cried. “How come you have the cool uncle teaching you how to throw knives and boost cars?”

  Chas laughed. “Uncle Al’s the best, I know.” She sobered. “I hope he’s still alive. My aunt too.”

  “I’m sure he is. He sounds like a survivor,” Dean said.

  “Well, thanks to him, we might just live to see tomorrow,” Emily said. “But first, we need to find a car for Chas to hotwire, or we’re not going anywhere.”

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Vanessa prompted.

  They got out of the truck and looked around. A faint breeze blew a curl of hair into Chas’ face, and she swept it aside as she surveyed the area. A few cars were parked along the curb, but none of them looked like good candidates. Too new.

  “Let’s grab our stuff and walk up the street. We’re bound to find something,” Chas s
uggested.

  “Okay,” Emily replied.

  One by one, they removed their backpacks from the back of the truck before walking further up the road. It was quiet, at first. The only sounds to be heard were their shoes on the asphalt, Chas’ crutches, and the cooing of doves in the trees.

  They’d gone about a block when a different noise caused the hair on Chas’ arms to stand erect. She froze in place and looked around. “Guys. Hold up.”

  The rest halted.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked.

  Ominous silence reigned as everyone listened closely.

  Emily’s eyes grew wide. “What is that?”

  “Feet. It sounds like feet,” Chas replied, recognizing the slap of numerous soles on the tar road.

  “Where is it coming from?” Emily cried.

  “I don’t know,” Chas replied as fear coursed through her veins.

  “Over there,” Dean said, pointing down a side street.

  At the same time, Chas spotted them too. A group of infected was running toward them at breakneck speed. Too many to fight. They had to be fresh too because they were fast. “We’ve got incoming. Run!”

  As one, Chas and her friends broke into a sprint, heading in the opposite direction. She hobbled along as best as she could on her crutches but was soon overtaken by the rest. When she glanced behind, fresh terror spurted through her limbs when she saw how close the infected were. Dropping the crutches, she ran without them, ignoring the pain in her leg.

  “Hurry!” Vanessa cried to Chas and Emily, her long legs taking her far ahead of the rest. Dean was close behind, his football practice coming to good use.

  Chas ran as fast as she could, and so did Emily, but they were hampered by their backpacks. Chas soon realized they wouldn’t make it, and screamed at Emily. “Drop your pack.”

  Emily cast her a wild look before obeying. Her pack tumbled to the ground, loaded with supplies. Chas swerved out of the way, but the infected on her heels didn’t. Two crashed into the rolling canvas missile and were bowled over in a flurry of arms and legs.

  “Run, Emily! Faster!” Chas cried. Without her pack, Emily was able to speed up, closing the gap between her and the others.

  Chas lagged behind, her leg aching with each step she took. Another look showed her the infected were so close she could almost feel them breathing down her neck. Their grunts were terrifying, as was the crazed look in their eyes and the blood staining their teeth.

  She shrugged off her backpack too, dropping it to the ground. Another zombie tripped over it, taking two more of its friends down with it. This granted her a small lead. She took advantage of the slight gap, pushing her body to its limits. But her leg was on fire, and she soon realized she’d never make it. Her friends were far ahead, far enough that they stood a chance. Maybe, I can lead the zombies away…help my friends escape.

  She cast around for shelter, and spotted a book shop with its doors half open. Its windows were intact, and she reasoned she could barricade the entrance with a shelf or something. Swerving to the side, she aimed for it, bursting inside with mere seconds to spare.

  Chas pushed the doors shut, but there was no time to reinforce them. The infected slammed against the glass with frustrated growls, and it was all she could do to hold them closed. Digging in her heels, she wedged her body against the handles while her feet sought purchase on the slippery floor.

  It was a losing battle.

  The zombies rammed against the entrance, throwing their bodies forward with furious rage. Their fists sounded a staccato beat in her ears, one that matched the terrified beating of her heart.

  Chas bit down on her lip as her legs began to shake. The rubber soles of her hiking boots squeaked on the floor as they slid forward.

  One inch…two inches…three.

  A gap opened behind her, and questing fingers clawed at her shoulders and hair. Tears slid down her cheeks as Chas realized the terrifying truth. There was no escape. Not this time.

  Chapter 16

  “There has to be a way out. Think!” Chas cried, striving to focus through the all-consuming panic that had a hold of her brain.

  She looked at the interior of the shop, casting around for a way out. It was big. Shelf upon shelf of books lined the open space. Smaller displays stood all around, advertising the latest bestsellers, and a counter lined the far wall.

  Chas vaguely remembered going there once with Lala, but her grandmother preferred the secondhand book shop next to the deli. As such, her recollections of the place were hazy at best, and she couldn’t see a way out. No other exit, no hiding spots. Nothing.

  Just when she was about to give up, Chas spotted a sign on the far wall. It sported the stick figures of a man and a woman each. Hope flared in her chest. “A bathroom!”

  Propping herself up against the door, she prepared to make a dash for the ladies bathroom, praying that it was empty. If it wasn’t, the gig was up, and she’d never make it out alive. “Oh, well. Here goes nothing.”

  Chas launched herself forward, sprinting in a straight line for the toilet door beckoning from the far wall. Behind her, the doors burst open. Caught by surprise, the infected fell over their own feet and ended up in a pile on the floor.

  As she ran, she pulled down the smaller displays behind her, creating a slippery carpet of books. This further hindered the zombies’ efforts, and she was able to reach the bathroom well ahead of them.

  Throwing herself inside, she slammed the door shut and twisted the lock. Moments later, thuds sounded as the infected beat against the barrier, their enraged snarls filling the tiny space.

  Chas didn’t waste a moment, whirling around with her hand on the hilt of her knife. Luckily, the toilet was empty, and she allowed herself to relax for a few precious moments and catch her breath. She didn’t dare wait too long, however. The infected weren’t willing to give up, and she doubted the flimsy lock would last very long.

  On wobbly legs, Chas investigated the tiny room. There was a row of windows above the washbasin. They were long and narrow, but she reckoned she could squeeze through. With her teeth gritted against the pain in her leg, she clambered onto the marble counter and swept aside the lacy curtains. The windows were covered with burglar bars, the steel rods preventing her escape.

  “No!” With a sob of despair, Chas slumped to her knees. “No, no, no, no.”

  For a moment, Chas considered giving up. The sounds made by the zombies filled her ears, worming into her skull until it was all she could hear.

  Give up, their growls insinuated.

  Give in, their snarls said.

  It’ll only hurt for a minute.

  The door shuddered in its frame as the infected beat against it, and she knew she didn’t have long to wait. With tears running down her face, she sat hunched in a ball, preparing for the inevitable. Her shaking hand fumbled for the gun at her side. I can end it now. It wouldn’t hurt at all. I wouldn’t have to feel their teeth sinking into my flesh.

  Then Chas thought of Lala and all the other people waiting back at the camp for a rescue that would never come. I can’t give up on them. On her. I have to try.

  Filled with new determination, Chas rose to her feet. She pulled the screwdriver and hatchet from her belt and got to work on the burglar bars. Placing the sharp end of the screwdriver against the bits where the rods were soldered to the frame, she hammered at it with the back end of the hatchet.

  Chips of paint and plaster flew through the air, and sweat beaded on her forehead as she loosened first the one, then the second, and lastly the third bar. Luckily, the stuff was old, built years before, and came loose without too much trouble.

  She worked with frantic haste, ever aware of the pounding on the door behind her. Once the rods were loose, she grabbed them and leaned sideways, bending them out of the way. Even as she leaned, the lock on the bathroom door groaned. The metal twisted and bent out of shape. She was out of time.

  Dropping the tools, she shoved the window open a
nd launched herself through the opening. The edges of the frame cut into her belly, and the bent burglar bars scraped against her side as she wiggled through.

  A thundering crash spurred her on as the bathroom door exploded inward. Howling zombies raced inside and fingers plucked at her denim pants with desperate hunger.

  Pure panic surged through her veins, and Chas pitched forward in a last ditch effort to escape the grasping hands. Her body slithered through the window like a snake, one shoe staying behind when it caught on the window sill.

  Chas didn’t care. She cared about nothing except the pavement that came rushing up to meet her as she tumbled headfirst to the ground. She threw up her arms and closed her eyes as the wind whistled past her ears.

  With a loud crack, she hit the concrete, pain shooting through her arms as they took the brunt of her fall. Her body folded in on itself, and her head caught a glancing blow that sent stars spinning in front of her eyes. Chas fought against the advancing wave of darkness that threatened to send her spiraling into oblivion.

  “Can’t pass…out. Not…now.” But the urge was too strong, and the fight left her muscles as reality faded away.

  Above her, the zombies vied with each other for the small open space, each trying to fight its way through to the delectable meal that lay waiting below. Just waiting. So close, they could almost taste it.

  Chapter 17

  Chas drifted in a sea of black, her body limp with exhaustion. She was tired of fighting, tired of running. All she wanted to do was sleep. But an insistent tugging refused to let her rest, and her eyelids fluttered open. “Leave me alone.”

  The tugging didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse.

  Fingers gripped her leg, the tips digging into her calf muscles. It hurt, and Chas shook the offending limb with a weak cry. “Let go!”

  A growl rose in answer to her cry, and adrenalin spiked through her bloodstream. Zombie.

  Chas struggled upright on her elbows and focused on the hunched figure of an infected tearing at her pant leg with its teeth. It snarled when their eyes met, its muscles bunching as it prepared to launch itself at her throat.