Thembiso was the taller of the two, his musculature thin and rangy. Peter possessed a stockier build, his shoulders broad and husky. Both sported unshaven chins, wearing their wispy facial hair like a badge of maturity.
Breytenbach shook his head. It reminded him of his own teenage years. Of the desperate need to be viewed as a man and an adult. Now that they were part of Lisa’s security team, they were growing up even faster, honed by their new responsibilities.
It might be worth treating them like adults and including them in the meetings more often. They are the future, after all. Lonny and Ruby too. Once they’re settled in and completely recovered, that is.
The boys halted in front of him, and their sheer energy made him feel older than his years for a moment. He straightened his back and shook off the feeling. “Could you two find Phillip, Martin, and Joseph for me? I need a message delivered to them.”
Peter nodded eagerly, “Of course. What’s the message?”
“There’s to be a meeting within the next half hour, and Max would like them to be present.”
“Sure, we’ll tell them, no problem,” Thembiso said. “Oh, wait. Martin isn’t here. We saw him leave earlier with Ronnie.”
“I see. All right, well, tell the others, at least.”
“Will do!”
“Thanks, I know I can always count on you boys.” They beamed with pride as they turned to leave, but he stopped them. “Oh, one more thing. While we’re having the meeting, I’m relying on you two to keep watch. Keep us safe and secure, you hear?”
“Yes, Sir,” they chorused, prompting a smile from him.
“Now off with you.”
They sprinted away at a speed he hadn’t been capable of reaching in years, jostling and teasing each other as they went. Once more, he felt his age, despite his best efforts. As if to highlight his advancing years, his left hand started trembling again in that annoying manner it had developed ever since his illness.
With a grunt, he clenched and unclenched his fist, shaking the numbness from his arm as he made his way to the infirmary. “Seeing as he has to go to the meeting, anyway, I might as well drop in on the good doctor for a quick checkup.”
The infirmary was quiet when he entered, with no signs of either Dr. Lange or Hannah. Nor did he see Dave, though the man only helped out in the infirmary in times of need.
It’d been somewhat of a surprise to all of them when the quiet and bespectacled Dave announced a newly discovered passion for gardening. Now he spent most of his time cultivating the vegetable plots and helping Elise to store the surplus. That’s when he wasn’t teaching the kids Biology, though.
Breytenbach spotted Jonathan in a corner sorting pill bottles and hailed him. “Hi, Doc!”
“Well, hello, Captain. What brings you here?” Jonathan asked with a frown. “Trouble?”
“Not really. We’re holding an emergency meeting, and Max would like all key members to attend.”
“I see. When is this?”
“In about ten minutes, or so,” Breytenbach replied.
“It’s not like I have much else to do. I’ve seen very few people today, to tell you the truth,” Jonathan replied as he replaced his stocks.
“That’s a good thing, I hope?”
“Very. Let’s just hope it stays that way, but with winter in full swing, I doubt it.”
“I hear you, but while we’ve got a minute…” Breytenbach hesitated before pressing ahead. “I’m still getting the shakes, Doc. Is that normal?”
Jonathan thought for a moment before pointing at a bed. “Sit down, and I’ll take a quick look.”
“Thanks.” Breytenbach sat down and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He was used to the routine by now.
Jonathan went about his business, checking Breytenbach’s pulse, blood pressure, and heartbeat before producing a syringe. “I’d like a sample, if you don’t mind?”
“Go ahead,” Breytenbach said.
Jonathan withdrew a vial of blood, did a few last checks, then nodded. “I’m done for now, though the blood tests will take a while longer.”
“So what do you think?”
“I don’t think it’s anything serious, Captain. Maybe leftover nerve damage from your injury and illness, though I’ll take a more in-depth look at your blood work and let you know.”
“All right.”
“The main thing is to take it easy, Captain. With your heart not being quite what it was, and possible nerve damage too, your raiding days are at an end,” Jonathan said.
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, and I know I’m of no use to anyone in this condition. You don’t have to tell me again,” Breytenbach said, surprised to find that he felt quite bitter about it.
He stared at his hand. The same one that shook and quivered for no apparent reason. The original cut that had caused all the trouble had healed without a scar, the skin as smooth as a baby’s bum. It was such a tiny wound. So innocent looking. I can’t believe such a small thing nearly killed me.
Handing the team reins over to Ronnie had been the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do. It was his baby. The work of a lifetime. All those years spent gathering the perfect crew, and now it was taken from him.
“I miss it. I miss going out with my team on missions. The excitement, the adrenalin. It’s not the same without it. I feel empty,” he found himself admitting to Jonathan who stared at him with a worried expression.
“Captain, I can’t say I know how you feel because I don’t, and frankly, I’m too young to be giving you any sort of advice, but I can tell you one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“None of us would be here today if it weren’t for you. We all look up to you, every bit as much as we look to Max.” Jonathan’s face was earnest as he spoke, his blue eyes wide open and honest.
Breytenbach stared at him and wished the words would take effect, would ease some of the unrest and unhappiness inside him, but it didn’t. Life’s not that easy, I guess.
With a grunt, he stood up and prepared to leave, shoving aside his morbid thoughts for the time being. “Thanks, Jonathan. For everything.”
“No problem.”
“See you at the meeting?”
“In a few minutes, yes.”
“Oh,” Breytenbach said as he remembered something. “You haven’t seen Dr. Lange, have you? He should come to the meeting as well.”
“I’m afraid he’s not here. He went with Ronnie on the supply run,” Jonathan replied.
“What for?” Breytenbach asked.
Jonathan shrugged and turned away, busying himself with a few utensils on a tray. “I’m not sure.”
“He didn’t tell you anything?”
“Not a thing. Best to ask him yourself, I guess.”
Breytenbach stared at the doctor for a few seconds, but Jonathan studiously avoided his gaze. “All right, I’ll do that. See you later then, Doc.”
As he left the infirmary, Breytenbach’s head spun with questions. What on earth was Dr. Lange doing on a supply run? He had no business out there and was most definitely not a fighter. The exact opposite, in fact. “I’d love to hear what his explanation is when I track him down.”
He made his way deeper into camp, heading for Max’s office while mulling over these thoughts. Thembiso had said Martin was with Ronnie as well. Could it be connected to Dr. Lange’s excursion, or was it unrelated?
He shook his head. The whole situation felt like a mystery, one he had yet to solve, with bits and pieces nagging at the back of his mind. Dr. Lange’s strange behavior was one just piece of the puzzle, with Martin’s actions, Lisa’s convictions, and the infected’s increased numbers all offering possible clues to the answer.
One way or another, he was determined to figure it out. It was something he excelled at. Using bits and pieces of Intel to form a larger picture of the enemy’s plans and movements to counteract them. In this case, the zombies were the enemies, and the camp’s survival counted on keeping the upper hand.
Let’s see what the meeting delivers.
He passed Nadia along the way and paused, reminded of the possibility of a vaccine. She walked past with Caleb, her boyfriend, and the two were engaged in such a deep conversation, they hardly noticed him.
She was a pretty girl, though she clearly walked on the wild side with her wacky hairdo, thick eyeliner, and numerous piercings. It was impossible to miss the tattoo on her neck either. Caleb was a lot more serious and reserved, and the two made a cute, but odd, couple.
He had a new respect for them both, though, after that morning’s patrol. As part of Lisa’s security team, the two performed the unpleasant duty daily, and he’d never heard either of them complain.
At that moment, he spotted Logan’s lean figure in the distance and called out, “Hey, Logan. You’re back!”
Logan jogged over, falling in beside Breytenbach. “I just came in now and heard about the meeting. Are you on your way there now?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll join you,” Logan said, waving at Nadia who threw him a bright smile over her shoulder.
“Your friend seems to be settling in well,” Breytenbach remarked after the exchange.
“Yes, she is, and I’m happy for her. She deserves it.”
“One day you must tell me the story of how you two met,” Breytenbach replied. “I bet it’s a strange one.”
“Not really. I found her on top of a roof, injured and surrounded,” Logan replied. “I rescued her only to find she was every bit as annoying as I thought she’d be. Typical teenager.”
“You still stuck with her, though,” Breytenbach.
“She grew on me,” Logan said with a chuckle. “She’s as tough as nails and has a heart of gold. Once you get to know her, that is.”
“I’m sure,” Breytenbach replied. “How’s her injury?”
“She’s doing okay, though she doesn’t have full use of the hand yet. Jonathan says it will take a while.”
“Glad to hear it. We need fighters now. More than ever.” Breytenbach’s tone was grim as he mulled over everything he’d learned that morning.
Logan shot him a look. “Bad news?”
Breytenbach shook his head. “Maybe, but I’ll leave it for the meeting.”
They’d reached the building that housed Max’s office by then. He’d moved it a while back when his other room became needed for supplies. Now it was housed within a tiny bungalow hardly big enough to fit them all. The door was open, and the air buzzed with subdued voices as they approached.
Logan turned to Breytenbach with a wry smile. “Ready for this?”
“Not on your life. I’d rather face a horde of zombies than the shitstorm this is going to be,” Breytenbach replied even as he plastered a pleasant smile on his face.
“You and me both,” Logan agreed.
As they stepped inside, Breytenbach had the fleeting idea to turn and run, but it was too late. Julianne had already spotted him and was picking her way through the throng of people toward him. With a sigh, he reflected that it just wasn’t his day.
Chapter 5 - Martin
Martin turned in a slow circle, his eyes drifting over the bland concrete and tar that surrounded them. A faded sign on a nearby lamppost advertised cheap penis enlargements and phenomenal luck at gambling, all with the pop of a single pill, while the shop in front of him used to be an Adult sex shop.
Its windows were smashed, and its contents looted, though a few lone magazines littered the sidewalk. He wasn’t surprised. Not even the end of the world could change certain things.
Next to him, Ronnie had spread his map over Tallulah’s bonnet, and the man squinted at the squiggly lines in the weak wintry sunlight. It was old and creased, faded by time and use.
“I can hardly make out a thing, damn it,” Ronnie said.
“Let me see,” Mike said, shoving his head between Ronnie and the map. His once curly hair was cut short and close to the scalp, exposing the pink patches of barely healed skin on his face and neck. With his twinkling blue eyes and irrepressible grin, he looked young and boyish, not at all the troublemaker Martin had learned he was.
The first time he’d found a dead spider in his shoe, he’d thought it was a coincidence. The one in his bathtub too. The live one that “fell” down his shirt not so much, and neither was the one he nearly munched on in his sandwich. How Mike had found out about his arachnophobia, he’d never know. What he did know was that the next time the Irishman played a joke on him, he’d wring his scrawny neck.
“Shove off,” Ronnie mumbled.
“Oh, come on. Let me help,” Mike protested.
“The day I let you help we’ll end up on the North Pole,” Ronnie said, raising one bushy eyebrow. “And it’d probably be on purpose too.”
Mike gasped. “I’d never.”
Martin sighed and stepped in. “Let’s get a move on, guys. We haven’t got all day, and this place is getting busy.”
As if to emphasize his words, a rasping groan announced the arrival of yet another infected to add to the growing pile next to them. The zombie man, still dressed in the remnants of his business suit, sped up when it saw potential food. His face looked almost pathetically eager at the thought of a meal.
With negligent ease, Lenka grabbed the creature by the neck and buried his knife in its eye socket, twisting the blade for good measure. The zombie stiffened for a second before it slumped into true death, its features seeming almost at peace for once.
Martin turned away from the spectacle. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it; it always bothered him when they died. That moment when the look of feral hunger crossed over into serenity as if they were being released from a living hell never failed to get to him.
It raised thoughts he’d prefer not to ponder. Questions such as: Did they know who they once were? Did they remember their past? If so, were they prisoners inside their own minds? Helpless, except to watch themselves rot away day after day while killing and eating others?
He shuddered. The mere thought gave him nightmares, and he grabbed the map to distract himself, instead. After a second, he pointed at a row of red crosses. “This street is where we are, right?”
“Right,” Ronnie replied.
“Well, all the shops and businesses here are tapped out. We need to move a block over.”
“Okay. Let’s saddle up.”
“And afterward, you’ll help Dr. Lange get what he needs?” Martin asked though that had been the agreement from the start.
“No problem, but supplies first.”
“Cool,” Martin said, jumping into the back of Tallulah where a nervous Dr. Lange waited, an ancient leather bag clutched to his chest. “You okay, Doc?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” the elderly scientist replied, though his shaky hands belied his words.
“Just relax. We won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”
Dr. Lange nodded. “Thank you.”
“One question. Why did you pick me to accompany you on this raid?”
Dr. Lange blinked, his eyes owlish through his thick lenses. “You’re an outsider, so less likely to blab to the people in the camp. Plus, you’re respected by Ronnie so he wouldn’t turn down your request.”
Martin nodded. “Smart.”
“That’s the one thing I’d never say I’m not.”
Tallulah rumbled as Ronnie fired her up, and they made their way around the block to the neighboring area. Like the first, it wasn’t much. Two rows of shops set inside the poorest district in town. It lacked any grand touches. Hell, it lacked any touches at all. No big signs or fancy window displays.
Instead, it was all grey concrete and littered sidewalks, overflowing rubbish bins and broken neon signs. Rats scurried in the alleyways while graffiti adorned the walls. For once, even the infected didn’t look out of place.
Ronnie drew to a stop in front of a convenience store, and they all jumped out except Dr. Lange who stayed tucked away in the relative safety of Tallulah’s metal bul
k.
Martin’s booted feet hit the road, and he flexed his shoulders underneath the brown leather jacket he wore. In his left hand, he held a knife. In the right, a machete, the blade honed to a sharp, gleaming edge.
A stiff breeze blew in from the East, ruffling his hair and stirring up the drifts of rubbish on the sidewalks into mini-tornadoes of whirling plastic and paper. The sour tang of rotting flesh teased his nostrils.
Already a knot of infected was headed their way, drawn by the movement and sound they made. Moving as one unit, Ronnie, Lenka, Mike, and Martin readied themselves for the coming fight.
The zombies moved with more speed and agility than Martin would’ve thought possible in corpses so old and decayed. Despite their state, they proved to be tough opponents. Still, against fighters as skilled as them, the infected stood no chance, and the fight was a short one.
While they fought, Martin studied each individual’s fighting style, an old hobby of his. His own manner was two-handed and spoke of strength and discipline. He ducked beneath one infected’s grasping fingers and stabbed upward with the machete, sinking it into the soft tissue beneath the chin. At the same time, his knife hand hamstrung another undead, causing it to drop to its knees. A swift reversal with the machete followed by a horizontal slash decapitated the kneeling zombie leaving Martin in the clear. He stepped back, breathing hard as he observed the others.
Mike grinned while he fought, his slender body swift to deliver death with sweeping cuts and whirling blades. Ronnie was both steady and economical in his movements, each one calculated to incur maximum damage with minimum effort. Lenka, on the other hand, rained down destruction with each blow of his hammer, sending bits of flesh and bone flying all over the place.
Martin nodded his approval. He was in good company. The best, judging by their survival skills. He could understand Max’s unwavering faith in each, despite their personality quirks.
Once the last zombie dropped, he followed them into the store. They stripped it of anything useful before moving on to the next shop. In this fashion, they managed to collect a full load within a few hours.
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