After finishing his meal, he grabbed a bottle of water and patrolled the rooftop, trying to clear his head. He had no idea what to do or where to go next. He was lost. To think that only yesterday he was responsible for three-thousand souls. Now they were down to nine.
“Captain!” Mike called, waving him over.
“What is it?”
“I raised someone on the radio, Sir. Other survivors.”
“Where?” Breytenbach asked, a small flower of hope blooming in his chest.
“About sixty kilometers from here, Sir. Not far at all. Their leader’s name is Max. He wants to speak to you.”
Mike handed him the radio.
“This is Captain Breytenbach. Out.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain. I’m Max. I hear you are in need of assistance. Out,” a steady voice replied.
Breytenbach let out a deep breath. “We are. Our camp was overrun. Can you help us? Out.”
“We can. We have a secure base, and if your intentions are good, you’re welcome to join us. I’ve already given your pilot directions to the rendezvous point. Out.”
“We aren’t going directly to your camp? We have children and a baby with us. Out.”
“No offense, Captain, but I don’t know you, and I’ve learned not everybody can be trusted. Out.”
“Fair enough. I will let you know when we reach the rendezvous. Out.” Breytenbach replied. His respect for Max had increased by this point. At least, he knew better than to let just anybody into his camp.
“All right. You heard him. Get in the chopper.”
“Do you think we can trust them, Captain?” Kirstin asked.
“I don’t know, but with two kids and a baby, we need to find someplace safe. Fast. We don’t have a choice.”
“All right.” She turned and hustled the two kids into the chopper, strapping them in. Breytenbach scooped up the sleeping Samantha and held her close during lift-off. Thanks to the medicine she slept throughout, not waking once.
After a while, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. Hell, they all were. His muscles relaxed, and his mind eased. Just like that, he nodded off. Mere minutes later, the sound of a grinding noise followed by a blaring alarm woke him with a start.
“What the…” Black smoke billowed out of the chopper. He coughed from the fumes of burning oil. We’re crashing.
“Everybody hold on, we’re going down!” Mike cried. He fought with the steering, trying to land them safely. Somehow, he gained control for a moment and took them further down.
If anybody can do this, Mike can. He could fly a sardine can if he had to.
A second grinding shriek reverberated through the air. They hung, suspended as if by a puppeteer’s strings, then plummeted. Breytenbach’s stomach clenched. He clutched Samantha to his chest, trying to shield her from the worst. The force of the crash slammed him forward. The kids screamed through the sound of shattering glass.
The seatbelt slammed into his sternum, and a deep rumble vibrated up and down his spine. Pain shot through his skull. The chopper was still moving, sliding across the ground before it came to an abrupt stop. Smoke and dust obscured his vision. In the distance, he heard Mike scream at everyone. “Get out! Get out now!”
Breytenbach fumbled with his seatbelt, unclipping it with numb fingers. Crawling through the wreckage with Sam clutched to his chest, he made it out. Hands lifted him to his feet. Lenka’s soot-stained face peered down at him.
Shaking his head to clear the ringing, he looked down at Sam. She was awake, screaming but unharmed. A miracle. He looked around. Jonathan was unconscious, and blood trickled down his face. Ronnie dragged him further from the crash while Kirstin and Mike each carried a child.
“We need to get away, Captain. It might catch fire and explode.” The urgency in Mike’s tone brought Breytenbach back to his senses. He thrust Samantha into Lenka’s arms.
“Go,” he ordered, stumbling back to the crash.
“Captain, no!”
The smell of burning oil hung heavy in the air, searing his eyes and lungs. He ignored it and searched the wreckage until he found his backpack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he stumbled back. A muffled thump sounded. He was flung forward, ears ringing as he plowed into the ground.
“Captain.” Ronnie and Lenka hoisted him up, dragging him further away for the raging inferno the Puma had become.
“The veldt is catching fire. We need to get out of here,” Ronnie said.
Breytenbach looked around. Crimson flames, fueled by the crash, licked at the dry Acacia thorn trees, brush, and grass that surrounded them.
This place hasn’t seen rain in a while, he realized. Fear coiled in his gut. He’d seen enough bushfires in his day to know the dangers.
“This way,” Mike cried. “There’s a dry riverbed. We might find water.”
“Right. Everybody follow Mike.” Breytenbach ordered. “Mike, are you armed?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Lead the way and watch for infected. They’ll be drawn from miles to the crash.”
“Will do, Captain.”
“Lenka. Can you carry Jonathan?”
Lenka hoisted the unconscious doctor to his left shoulder, holding his knife in his right hand. “Ready, Captain.”
“Kirstin, you take the girl. Ronnie, you carry the boy. I’ll take Samantha.” During this brief time, the flames had spread, burning higher and hotter with each second. “Let’s go.”
The group stumbled off with Breytenbach taking the rear. Warm blood trickled from his left ear, and more ran down his right arm, dripping from his fingers.
Burst eardrum and who knows what else, he surmised. There was no time to stop, though. The infected would come, drawn to the crash. We’d better not be here when they arrive.
Chapter 24 - Max
Max handed the receiver back to Sean, excitement coiling in the pit of his stomach. They’d made contact with their first survivors, and it was all thanks to Sean. He beamed at the shy, young man. “You did it. You really did it.”
A computer programmer in his previous life, Sean also knew a lot about broadcasting equipment and had set up a radio room. He fiddled with the various knobs, blinking every few seconds, a nervous tic Max had come to recognize. “I’m just glad I could help.”
“I need to make arrangements for the rendezvous,” Max said. “Call me if anything happens.”
He left the cramped space and walked the short corridor to the common room. On the way, he strode past another small office. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Meghan and Anne, doing sums under the tutelage of Michelle. A bright girl, Michelle loved kids and had volunteered to teach them. She shared that duty with Rosa. It was the ideal solution and kept the kids out of trouble.
It was lunchtime, and Max expected to find the cafeteria packed. To his surprise, it was a slow afternoon. Even Logan was missing. He did spot Ben, however, sitting in the corner. On the spur of the moment, he decided to ask him to join the team. The older man was slowly recovering from the loss of Jacques and Armand, but it was still early days. Maybe some action and the prospect of other survivors would raise his spirits.
“Hey, Ben. We’ve raised a group of survivors on the radio. If they check out, we’re bringing them in. Would you like to join us?”
Ben stared at his plate, chewing with care before swallowing. “Can they be trusted?”
Doubt underlined every word. Max knew it was because of what had happened to Jacques. While Armand’s death was a tragic loss caused by the infected, Jacques was different. He died because of the evil of man. “I don’t know yet. That’s why I want you by my side.”
Ben considered this. “Fine, I’ll go.”
“Thanks. Meet me in the parking lot in twenty minutes.” Max stepped outside and headed for the walls, looking for Logan.
The place had changed in the time they’d lived there. So much so in fact that it didn’t even look the same. A thick, stone wall about ten feet high
encircled the buildings.
There were plans in place to make it even higher, with a walkway and guard towers at strategic points. Max knew this was essential to both their survival and their sense of security.
At least Joseph knew a lot about construction and had taken over the reins. Max was more than happy to leave it in his capable hands. Which was why he wouldn’t be taking Joseph on this trip. That and the fact that Tumi was expecting again. The once shy, tearful woman had blossomed overnight with the news. She and Erica spent a lot of time together as new moms-to-be.
A quick jog around the walls proved fruitless, so he decided to go to the bungalows instead. There wasn’t much in the way of grass anymore. Most of it had been trampled. He dodged a landmine courtesy of Buzz and made a mental note to get Peter and Thembiso on clean-up duty. “They wanted to keep the dog.”
We should get walkways laid out in case it rains, or we’ll all be slogging through rivers of mud. It will help with the dust. Maybe put in some concrete or paving. A park for the kids would be nice too.
The drone of a quad bike interrupted his thoughts, and he was relieved to see Logan driving with Morgan perched behind him. They dragged a small trailer with a Springbok carcass on top. Drops of blood beaded on its fur, congealing around a neat bullet hole behind the shoulder blade.
“What’s up, Max?” Logan pulled to a stop and switched off the ignition.
“Can you two meet me at the gate? We’ve located a group of survivors.”
“Okay, but let me deliver this to Elise first.” Logan gestured to the buck.
“You went hunting?”
“Yeah, we’re running low on meat, and Elise wants to do something special tonight.” Logan shrugged. “Don’t ask me why.”
“Nice shot.”
“Thanks,” Logan replied. “Wind was in my favor.”
Max mentally filed away the issue of the game reserve for the next meeting. It was protected by a sturdy fence, but he felt they needed to do more to safeguard the wildlife.
Morgan slid off the bike and flashed Max a cheeky grin. “Well, you know me. I’m in.” She leaned down and planted a kiss on Logan’s cheek. “I’ll get our gear together.”
“Try to find Angie as well, will you?” Max asked.
“Sure, no problem.” She jogged off with a wave, ponytail swaying behind her.
Shaking his head, Max headed back. He had to admit he’d never seen his sister so happy in all his life. Even Logan was more relaxed. Less broody. All of which made Max happy for them but also a touch jealous.
Entering the common room, he cleared his throat. Not everybody was there but enough that the message would spread. In the expectant hush that followed, Max announced, “You should all know that we got into contact with a group of survivors.”
An excited buzz filled the room.
“Survivors? Are they friendly?” Dave asked.
“Looks like it.”
“Are you bringing them here?”
“If they check out, yes. They appear to be in need of assistance, and they’ve got kids with them. A baby too.”
“A baby? When are you leaving?” Julianne asked.
“We’re on our way there now.”
“We’ll make sure everything’s ready for their arrival,” Julianne assured him.
“Thanks, that would be great.”
He readied to leave, but Sean appeared at his elbow, pulling him aside. “We’ve got a problem. The chopper crashed.”
“What? Where? Are they still alive?” Max’s heart sunk at the news.
“The pilot radioed in an approximate location as they went down and then nothing. I don’t know if anyone’s still alive.”
“Right. That changes things. Hannah, can you come with us, please? Bring a first aid kit. They might need medical attention, and you’re the closest we’ve got to a doctor. Sean, you’re with me.”
Hannah jumped up to get her things, while Max and Sean hurried outside. Logan, Angie, Ben, and Morgan were already there, waiting for them. Hannah joined them soon after that, and they split into two groups with Max and Sean taking the lead.
It wasn’t hard to find the crash site. A column of black smoke rose amidst a haze of charcoal gray. The veldt was on fire, and orange flames licked the horizon. Max canvassed the tar road until he found a dirt track leading closer.
“We better hoof it from here. We can’t risk the Nyalas,” Max ordered.
Everybody disembarked, and they set off across the blackened ground. The fire had swept through, radiating out from the crash site. With its dry underbrush and thorn trees, the veldt had provided an excellent feast for the inferno. It had burned hot and fast, leaving behind a circle of blasted vegetation. The smoke irritated his eyes, but with the brush gone, visibility had improved. “At least, we’ll be able to see the zombies coming.”
A few minutes later, they found the crashed chopper. Max was surprised to see it was a military helicopter. A Puma to be exact—or a burnt-out shell of one. What was even more surprising, was that it was empty. “They survived the crash.”
“How do we find them?” Morgan asked.
Max was stumped. He turned around in all directions. “They probably had to get away from the fire and any infected drawn by the noise.”
“Speak of the devil,” Logan said.
Infected were making their way towards the crash site, hampered by the terrain. In a comical move, one of them face-planted onto the ground when it tripped over a bush. They did not look funny, though. The fire had burned away their skin, sloughing the flesh from the bone in places.
“Get rid of them,” Logan said.
“Why? Let’s just go. There’s nobody here,” Angie said.
“We need to know where they went. I used to be a Game Ranger. I can track them if you keep those things off me.”
“Track them on this?” She pointed at the burnt ground, derision twisting her lips into a sneer.
Logan frowned and turned away, scouring the ground for clues. “Just keep them off me.”
Angie pouted, and Max stared at her, perplexed. Always short-tempered and demanding, she’d grown even more touchy of late. Filing her behavior away as a problem for another day, he turned to the group. “Right, you heard him. Let’s clear the area.”
Killing the zombies was easy enough. The fire had done most of the work for them. It was a stomach-churning job, though. Max gagged as he hacked at one, its skull reduced to a grinning specter. The smell of cooked flesh clung to his nostrils and coated the inside of his mouth.
By the time the last one fell, Logan had picked up the trail. “Over here.”
They followed a dried-out riverbed and walked across the cracked mud. It led away from the crash site in a north-easterly direction. The ground grew damp with occasional puddles of murky water. This became a trickle of water, and after slogging through ankle-deep mud, they were forced to leave the riverbed. Logan never said a word, forging ahead as he followed the trail.
Max kept a wary eye out for infected, ready for anything. It was hot and humid. Sweat trickled down his spine causing his shirt to chafe. A mosquito stung his neck, singing around his ears.
“We’re getting closer. The trail is fresh,” Logan said.
“God, I hope so. This is awful,” Angie whined. Her face was flushed, and she looked anything but happy.
Max wished she’d shut up. Of them all, Hannah was the worst off, being older and not very fit, but she never complained.
They pushed on in silence until a cold feminine voice froze them in their tracks. “Stop. Do not come any closer.”
Nobody moved. The only sound was the buzzing of insects. Max cleared his throat. “We’re not looking for trouble.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you were,” the smooth voice replied.
“Look, can I come closer? So we can talk?” Max raised his hands, holding them up in the air.
“I would not.”
The voice held a tone that brooked no argument, a clear t
hreat implicit in the timbre. Max had the feeling the owner of it wouldn’t hesitate to kill him on the spot.
An uncomfortable silence fell, broken when Morgan bristled. “Hey, lady. You lot asked us for help. If you don’t want it anymore, then say so, and we’ll fuck off.” She turned to Max. “Come on, bro. I’ve got better things to do than play games all day in this kind of heat.”
Logan wore a look of mild amusement at Morgan’s outburst while the rest were shocked, unsure of what to do.
Max shook his head, “Morgan, please. Calm down.”
“I like her,” the voice said, interrupting his pleas. “Captain.”
A faint crackle of leaves sounded, and a rough-looking man appeared. His hair was graying at the temples, and he hadn’t shaved in days. His clothes were torn and dirty, an odd assortment of army issue and khakis. Though exhaustion lined his face, there was nothing wrong with his steely eyes or the way he held a gun.
“You must excuse Kirstin. She’s not the friendliest of my crew.”
Max nodded, at a loss for words as a stunning woman stepped into view, carrying a rifle like it was an extension of her body. He swallowed, his mouth gone dry and unable to say a single thing.
Morgan flashed him an amused look and stepped forward, saving him from embarrassment. “You must be Captain Breytenbach?”
“Correct. And you are?”
“I’m Morgan. This is my brother, Max. You spoke on the radio.”
Breytenbach’s eyes never wavered. “That’s right. So what happens now?”
“That depends on you.” Morgan was not giving an inch, her face remote, eyes cold.
“We need a safe place to stay. At least, for a while.”
“Can we trust you not to murder us in our beds?” she asked.
“You can,” Breytenbach answered. “But how do we know we can trust you?”
“You said you needed help. We’re here, aren’t we? You’ve got children with you? A baby?”
Breytenbach nodded and gestured behind him. Max took that as acceptance and moved forward into a small clearing, followed by the rest of the group. Kirstin watched him, her face as smooth as marble. She sure is something.
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