Dangerous Days: Boxed Set (A Zombie Apocalypse Survival Thriller Books 1-4)

by Baileigh Higgins

  Chapter 25 - Mpho

  Mpho sat next to Michael in the truck, and nervous tension coiled in her stomach. It was an hour after dawn, and they were on their way to fetch her grandmother and the rest of Ke Tau’s former captives. With the battle won, they were free now, free to join the camp or make their way according to their choosing.

  She thought back to the night she’d escaped, to her headlong flight through the night with nothing but a steak knife to protect her. Now she was going back, but at the head of a convoy filled with people she’d come to view as their saviors. Will you look at me with pride, grandmother?

  Mpho hoped so. All her life she’d admired Rebecca, the strongest person she knew. Not only had the old woman raised eight children and helped to rear countless grandchildren, outliving her husband and recovering from cancer, but she’d also survived the outbreak. Her wisdom was well-known to those who knew her, and she possessed boundless courage coupled with a kind heart. If only I could be more like her.

  The convoy consisted of three large vehicles, each containing only two people to allow for passengers on the return trip. These were driven by Michael and herself, Martin and Caleb, and Max and Kirstin. The fourth vehicle, Tallulah, took the lead. It contained Ronnie, Lenka, Lisa, Josh, and Jed. Together, they formed a well-armed group of fighters, each of them fierce and experienced.

  The rest had stayed behind to begin the tedious job of cleaning up the mountains of undead corpses that littered the field around their camp and start working on repairs. It would take a long time to return their home to its former state, but Mpho didn’t allow that to bother her. She was determined to start a new life there. A real life. It’s my home now. That’s all that matters.

  Michael glanced at her and smiled. “Excited?”

  She grinned in response and bobbed her head. “Very.”

  “Well, it’s not far now. We’re nearly there.”

  She clenched her hands in her lap to still their nervous trembling and stared out of the window at the passing scenery. The streets were deserted, all the undead drawn away by Ke Tau’s men for the attack.

  The lack of infected highlighted the emptiness of the world they now lived in. Nothing moved, and the windows were empty. Stationary vehicles clogged the roads and crashed wrecks blocked most of the crossings. Uncollected rubbish decomposed in the sun, potholes grew large in the tar, and rats scurried through alleyways and across gutters.

  Mpho shuddered at the depressing sight, a little of her happiness leeching away. Suddenly she wished they were at their destination already, with Rebecca sitting next to her. Safe and sound.

  She turned toward Michael. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

  He frowned. “Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”

  “It’s nothing; I’m just worried.”

  “You have nothing to fear. They’re perfectly fine. Ke Tau is gone,” Michael said.

  “What about his men? The ones that got away?” she asked.

  “Not many of them did. Maybe a handful, and if they were dumb enough to run back to their hideout, we’ll take care of them soon enough.”

  “Ke Tau will have posted guards too, and what about Hiran?”

  Michael shrugged. “The guards don’t stand a chance, and Hiran is a rat without a burrow to scurry to now.”

  “Maybe,” Mpho replied, though she privately doubted it. In her opinion, Hiran was the worst of them all, and craftier than Ke Tau had ever been.

  Mpho shuddered at the thought of his emotionless eyes. While the man might have respected her mother and protected her at times, he was as cold and callous as a reptile. He possessed no emotions, felt no sympathy, and wallowed in the suffering of others.

  She counted down the minutes as they neared the compound, and held her breath when it finally came into view. The surrounding area was empty except for the zombies lashed to their poles and the corpses scattered around.

  Her eyes fell on her uncle’s form, his mouth gnashing at the air with yellowed teeth in a scene straight from hell. Rebecca’s eldest son, he’d also been the only one of her children to survive the initial outbreak. He’d taken in Mpho and Rebecca, saving their lives numerous times. Until Ke Tau found us.

  She looked away and blinked back tears. At least now they’d be able to release him and grant him peace in the hereafter. A proper burial.

  Tallulah slowed to make a cautious approach and stopped in front of the entrance in the palisade fencing. It idled for a minute or two as the occupants surveyed it for danger. After a while, Ronnie cut the engine. The doors opened, and Lisa climbed out, followed by the rest.

  Max, Kirstin, Martin, and Caleb joined them while Michael and Mpho stayed behind, their truck the last in line and furthest away. As a non-combatant, Mpho wasn’t allowed to participate in the initial assault.

  Mpho craned her head to watch as they fanned out, each holding a gun. They slipped through the gates and into the compound’s grounds. Their figures dwindled as they approached the front doors of the building.

  It was too far away for her to make out any details, and she held her breath in the desperate hope that everything was okay. Michael reached over to grip her hand, and she flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Michael.”

  “I’m here for you.”

  After what seemed an eternity, Max and the rest returned. They were alone, and not a shot had been fired. Mpho frowned. “What’s going on? Where are the guards?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael replied, wearing a similar frown.

  As Max drew closer, the expression on his face caused her stomach to drop. “Something’s wrong.”

  Before Michael could stop her, she opened her door and slipped out to meet Max halfway.

  “Wait,” Michael called, but she ignored him as the sense of wrongness within her breast intensified.

  She stopped in front of Max with Michael one step behind. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Max stared at her, seemingly at a loss for words. “I’m sorry, Mpho, but…”

  “What?” she cried.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know how to say this.”

  “Tell me,” she urged, itching to tear the truth from his lips.

  “Your…they’re dead.”

  “Who? Who’s dead? Where’s Rebecca?” she asked.

  “All of them. They’re all dead,” Max said with an audible swallow.

  Mpho gasped and stumbled back into Michael’s waiting arms. He caught her, and she clung to him while her mind scrambled to catch up. “What do you mean they’re all dead? They can’t be. It’s impossible.”

  “I’m sorry,” Max repeated, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.

  No!” She shook her head. “Where’s my grandmother? Where is she?”

  Without waiting for him to answer, she tore loose from Michael’s grasp and ran toward the compound. Her only thought was of her grandmother. She refused to believe, couldn’t allow herself to think that Rebecca was gone.

  “Mpho, no!” Max cried. “You mustn’t look! Stop her!”

  She ignored him and pushed her body harder. Her feet flew across the tar, echoed by Michael’s heavier tread as he tried to catch her. With the grace of a gazelle, she ducked around the grasping arms of those who heeded Max’s call. Her flight took her into the grounds and toward the front doors. Something caught her eyes, something attached to the….No!

  Mpho screamed as she fell to her knees in front of Rebecca’s corpse. The old lady was nailed to the wood by thick iron nails through her wrists and feet. Her head hung on her still chest, and dried blood crusted her lips. Her lower body was a wreck of raw flesh, bone, and innards; her stomach a gaping hole of emptiness with all her organs removed.

  At her feet lay two bodies, infected dispatched by Max’s team with swift stabs to their skulls. They’d found Rebecca during the night, and had feasted on her flesh until discovered.

  “No!” Mpho screamed again and again until her throat was raw, beating her fists ag
ainst the concrete until smears of blood stained the ground. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  Michael grasped her by the shoulders, but she ignored him, her eyes fixed on her beloved grandmother’s face as she poured out her grief and rage at the world. He spoke in her ear, but she refused to listen.

  When, at last, he folded his arms around her and lifted her up, Mpho fought him. “Let me go! Leave me! No!”

  She scratched at his skin with her nails until he bled and kicked her legs in the air as she bucked, but his grip was like iron, and he carried her away without pause. Once her grandmother faded from view, despair set in, replacing the molten rage.

  Her body went limp, and grief poured through her veins like poison. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and sobs shook her chest. Gathering her into his arms, Michael cradled her against his chest like a baby.

  “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he murmured.

  “Grandmama,” Mpho cried, her entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

  Michael climbed into the truck but never let her go, and Lisa slid behind the wheel to drive them home while the rest took care of the bodies.

  Mpho cared about none of that. Her mind was fixed on the horror of Rebecca’s last moments and the message it carried. Etched into the wood above the old woman’s head had been a sentence, carved by a knife. It read: I’m coming for you. H.

  Epilogue - Nadia

  Nadia woke up in a bed with crisp, clean sheets that smelled of lemon and disinfectant. Her muscles felt languid, and her eyes were gummy from too much sleep. She blinked and focused on the three faces hovering next to her bed. Logan, Donya, and Caleb.

  She smiled. “Are you all waiting for me?”

  They jumped to attention, but Logan commanded her bedside. “How are you feeling today, sunshine?”

  “I’m good.” She blinked a few more times as her memories of the past few days flooded back. “Aw, man. I got bit again, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did, and it was a very stu…” Logan glanced at Donya, “…heroic thing you did.”

  Nadia chuckled. “You would have done the same.”

  He shot Donya a look. “Probably not.”

  “You’re so full of it.”

  Donya stood up and approached the bed with hesitant steps. “Nadia?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. You saved me, and I owe you one. I’m sorry for all the things I said before,” Donya said with a look of shame on her face.

  “It’s okay. You had reason to be mad.”

  Logan rolled his eyes behind Donya’s back but refrained from commenting.

  “I hope we can be friends,” Donya continued.

  “Of course,” Nadia said, ignoring Logan’s snort of disgust. “Did you find your family?”

  Donya shook her head. “They’re gone. Martin took me there yesterday, but I couldn’t find them.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Donya retreated to her seat again, and Nadia lifted her bandaged arm to give her fingers an experimental wiggle. She winced when a sharp pain shot up her shoulder, fiery flames of agony burning through her nerve endings. “Ah!”

  “Take it easy,” Logan said. “You’re far from healed yet.”

  “Am I okay, though? Is the arm any good?” For a moment, she feared she’d lost the use of her hand.

  “He took a big chunk out of you, but you’re lucky. You’ll be able to use it just fine aside from an ugly scar,” Logan said. “You got a nasty infection, though.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Her head fell back onto the pillow. “So I’m still immune?”

  “Still immune.”

  “Still a carrier?”

  “Sorry,” he said with an apologetic shrug.

  “Damn.”

  “Good news is, there’s a scientist here who thinks he can make a vaccine from your blood given enough time,” Donya piped up with bright optimism. “That means you won’t be able to infect others anymore. Not if they’re vaccinated.”

  “Really?” Nadia stared up at the ceiling as thoughts of a possible future with Caleb filled her mind. Suddenly, the world seemed a little bit brighter. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Well, time for you to rest. Doctor’s orders,” Logan said with brisk impatience.

  “Wait. Can Caleb stay a little while longer?” she pleaded.

  “Him? Really?” Logan asked with overt hostility.

  She grinned. “Really.”

  “You know he’s not good enough for you,” Logan grumbled as he stalked out.

  “No one is,” Caleb complained once he was gone.

  “That’s Logan for you, but forget about that. Tell me what happened after the fight. How long was I out?”

  “You’ve been out for four days. Jonathan thought it best to keep you under while your body fought off the infection. A lot has happened in the meantime.”

  “Such as?”

  “Someone rounded up the last of Ke Tau’s men and went back to their old hideout. Michael thinks it’s Hiran.”

  “Hiran?” Nadia asked. “Who’s he?”

  “He used to be Ke Tau’s right-hand man, and we never saw him during the fight. Anyway, Michael thinks he fled when he saw the way things were going and…”

  “What?”

  “He killed everyone there. The woman, children, all of them.” Caleb swallowed and looked like he was going to be sick. “By the time we got there, it was too late. Everyone was dead and this Hiran or whoever was long gone.”

  Nadia gasped. “That’s horrible.”

  “I won’t bother you with the details. Just be glad you didn’t have to see it.”

  They were silent for a few moments before Nadia tactfully changed the subject. “What about Martin?”

  “He’s going home soon. So is Josh, Jed, and Donya, but there are talks of allying with each other and even opening a trade route.”

  “What about the Bloemfontein situation?”

  “They’re still thinking about that. Max wants to send an envoy, but others are against it. Suspicious and all that.”

  “And you? What are your plans?” she asked in a small voice, tensed for his reply.

  “Me?” He gave her a slow smile that caused her stomach to flip. “I’m staying right here with you.”

  “You mean that?”

  Caleb nodded and gripped her fingers. “Of course. Vaccine or no vaccine.”

  He sat with her for a few more minutes until Hannah ushered him away. The matronly woman gave Nadia a handful of pills to drink with water and bustled off to attend to her other patients. Half-drugged, Nadia dozed off. She spent the next three days drifting in and out as her body healed. Finally, Jonathan deemed her well enough for release.

  “I think I’ve kept you here long enough,” he said with a crooked smile before waving her off with strict instructions and a bag full of medicine.

  Nadia walked outside, leaning on Caleb’s arm, and stopped to let her eyes adjust to the sun. The grounds were a hive of activity, and people rushed to and fro from one task to the next. “Wow.”

  “You can say that again,” Caleb answered. “Come on. Let me show you to your room. You’ll be bunking with a few of the other girls for now.”

  “They don’t mind? You know, with me being infected and all?” The fleeting worry that these strange girls might not want a freak staying with them crossed her mind.

  “They know, and they don’t care,” he said, putting her fears to rest.

  “That’s a relief,” she said.

  They walked along a stone path, passing strangers and well-known faces alike. Caleb pointed out a few. Nombali whom Nadia recognized from the clinic, her arm still in a sling. Mike who looked like he’d been dragged backward through a burning bush but still managed to flash her a cocky grin. Finally, Michael and Mpho, whom Nadia did not know but vaguely recollected from the battle.

  The latter appeared lost, her eyes haunted with grief, while Michae
l wore a scowl, his anger almost seeming to radiate from his body. Nadia shuddered and clung to Caleb’s arm, avoiding Michael’s angry stare. She was glad when they turned a corner, and she could no longer see the couple.

  The sight of kids playing on a patch of grass complete with two dogs and a jungle gym lifted her spirits, while a woman with a baby flashed her a kind smile. When more people greeted her with polite nods as they passed, the nervous tension in her stomach eased, and her muscles relaxed.

  “It seems nice,” she said.

  “It is,” Caleb agreed. “I think you’ll like it here.”

  “I think so too.”

  They’d almost reached their destination when a familiar figure drew Nadia’s gaze. In the distance, under the shade of a willow tree was a small burial site. White wooden crosses marked each graveside, and Logan stood next to the furthest one with his head bowed.

  She paused. “What’s he doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Caleb replied.

  “He’s paying his respects to my daughter Morgan and their unborn child,” a strange voice replied.

  Nadia whirled and found herself face to face with an older woman. Blonde hair with a touch of silver at the temples framed clear blue eyes surrounded by fine lines.

  “Their child?”

  “Yes, she was expecting.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nadia replied, though she knew the words meant little in the face of such loss.

  “Thank you.”

  Nadia glanced at Logan again, and a sense of understanding swept over her. That’s why he ran. He was grieving for his lost family. “I had no idea.”

  The women’s expression softened. “I’m Julianne, and you’re Nadia.”

  “Yes.”

  “Logan’s told me much about you.”

  “Good stuff, I hope.”

  “The best.” Julianne pointed up the path. “Let me walk you to your place. I want you to feel welcome here among us.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. You’re one of us now.”