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

by Baileigh Higgins

  Her hoarse voice echoed through the tiled room, sounding alien to her ears. Not even that was hers anymore. She opened the tap, and eased herself onto the side of the bath, allowing her body to fold in on itself.

  With numbness stealing over her mind, she watched the water swirl in the tub, rising until there was enough for her to soak in. Tears of gratitude filled her eyes, and she slid her length into the steaming water.

  Its soothing heat enfolded her, caressed her, and smoothed over each ache until it all faded to a distant murmur. The aspirin kicked in after a few minutes, muting the worst of the pain, and her body released all its pent-up tension.

  With the release, came the tears, and raw sobs wracked her chest, tears spilling of their own accord. Blood swirled in the water, tinting it pink as the dried flakes washed from her skin.

  After a time, the tears passed, and a hollow void opened up in its stead. The pit yawned, and she feared what waited within it. Once she fell into it, she’d never come back out.

  Instead, Agatha forced herself upright. With slow, deliberate movements, she washed the dirt and blood from her body, scrubbing her skin raw as she rid herself of the scent and taste and smell of George.

  His name echoed through her mind, joined by Hiran’s. A cold knot of hatred coalesced in her heart. The need for revenge rose within her being. It filled the void and gave her purpose. It gave her something to hold onto.

  She wouldn’t die. Not today, and not until she made sure Hiran and George had paid for their crimes. They would all die. Each and every one of them. Both the leader and his followers.

  And she knew just how to do it do. It was no empty threat on her part. No last gasp of false bravado. She held the means of their destruction in her hands, and tomorrow, she would wield it.

  Justice.

  After the bitter tears of before, she felt drained but no less hurt. Her mind winged over the past few months and lingered on all she had lost, gained, and lost again.

  Certain memories she gloried in. Those of her daughter. Her bright eyes and tinkling laugh. Even while in the military, Agatha had visited her mother and daughter as often as she could. Being a single mom wasn’t easy, but she’d loved her family more than life itself.

  Until the undead rose and stole them from her. These memories her mind shied from, like a skittish wolf catching the scent of a wolf. The blood, the horror…that way lay madness.

  For a long time after their loss, she’d drifted. Aimlessly. All she wanted to do was die, but as a staunch Catholic, her faith prevented her from committing suicide.

  It was the priest who granted her purpose. He convinced her that life was still worth living and that she could save others from the gruesome deaths her own family had suffered.

  For a time, it had succeeded. She’d worked hard, building a community founded on belief in God and strong morals. A place of love and kindness. Even forgiveness. But it was not to last.

  The moment George set foot in her camp, their end was fated. With his open manners and earnest eyes, he’d duped them all. Like the evil that sneaks into men’s hearts to corrupt and decay, he’d slithered into their midst to sow death and destruction.

  “A poisonous snake,” she whispered. “The devil in the garden of Eden.”

  Agatha sat up slowly, struggling until she was on her knees in the tub, ignoring the pain that lanced through her womb. With her hands clasped in front of her, she prayed. “Dear God. Forgive me for my sins. For my failure to protect those beneath me from men like Hiran and George. Forgive me too for the sins I am about to commit. The sins of murder and revenge.”

  She paused as warm tears leaked across her skin. “I know that it might cost me my life and even my soul, but hear me God. Listen to my plea. I will not rest until both of them are dead. This I promise. This I swear.”

  Chapter 17 - Breytenbach

  Breytenbach walked around the school bus, examining the various improvements made by the teens of Bloemhof. Mesh wire covered the windows, and an escape hatch had been cut into the roof and another in the floor. Each could be locked from within.

  The door was reinforced, and the wheels protected by metal guards soldered in place. A homemade bull bar decorated the front, built to protect the engine and funnel zombies to the sides. It formed a v-shape, projecting out in the middle and sloping back and out to the sides.

  “This is excellent work,” Breytenbach said. “Forward thinking.”

  “Thank you,” Jonathan replied with a smile bordering on arrogance.

  “So you’re the brains behind this project?”

  “Yes, it was my idea to pimp the bus, though the others all helped.” Jonathan shrugged. “Who knew that mechanics would turn out to be my strong point?”

  “You know about engines?”

  “Yup. My dad and uncle taught me a lot, and I’ve been picking up the rest as we go along,” Jonathan said. “I even got hold of a bunch of books on fixing cars. I’m reading that now.”

  “That’s great. We could use a proper mechanic around here. Most of us just know the basics,” Breytenbach said.

  “Old cars are better to work on. Simpler. It’s electronics that screw me around half the time, and I don’t have the equipment to deal with computer boxes and stuff.”

  “I hear you. Luckily, most of ours are either older models, or they’re brand new from the dealership and don’t cause any trouble.” Breytenbach patted the school bus on the side. “How strong is she? Can she carry a full load all the way to the coast?”

  “She can. I’ve been working on her for weeks now, and her engine’s in good condition. The only thing I needed was a new battery. The old one was shot.”

  Breytenbach nodded. “Could you take a look at the rest of our vehicles as well? We can’t afford breakdowns during the evacuation. Not with so many women, children, and injured people on our hands.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’d need you to safeguard them too. Cover the windows, at least. Maybe put bull bars on them too. All except Tallulah. She’s bulletproof.”

  “How long do I have?”

  “Today and tomorrow.”

  “What? Two days? That’s impossible,” Jonathan asked, scratching his face with a greasy finger. It left a smear of black oil on his cheek, lending him the air of a real mechanic, overalls and all.

  “Ronnie and Lenka will help you. They’re fair hands when it comes to cars, and I’m sure your teammates can pitch in with the reinforcements.”

  Jonathan hesitated. “I suppose.”

  “Look Jonathan. I’ll be straight with you here. I need you. We need you. Without proper vehicles, we aren’t going anywhere.”

  “But two days―”

  “Is enough if you can get all your friends working on this. Make them understand how important it is. Our lives depend on this convoy of vehicles, Jonathan, and I’m putting my trust in your hands.”

  Jonathan drew himself up and nodded, his expression somber yet proud. “I’ll do my best, Captain. You can count on me.”

  With a sense of satisfaction, Breytenbach left the boy to his work and went in search of Max. He believed he’d boosted Jonathan’s ego enough that the boy would want to show what he could do. Go above and beyond what he normally would in such circumstances.

  If there was one thing Breytenbach had learned in all his years as a military leader, it was how to motivate people into doing things they would never have believed themselves capable of otherwise.

  It was why Max had put him in charge of the evacuation. Though with an enterprise of this scope, Breytenbach relied on the help of others to coordinate everything properly.

  He turned a corner during his musings and spotted Ronnie. “Hey, Ronnie. I’ve got that new kid Jonathan working on the cars. It seems he knows a thing or two.”

  Ronnie frowned. “Is that wise?”

  “I think he’ll be an asset. Him and his friends. They did great work on the school bus. Even so, I want to put you and Lenka in charge. Make s
ure everything is ready to go the day after tomorrow.”

  “All right, Captain.”

  “We’ll need extra fuel too. Spare tires, tools, that sort of thing. All easily accessible and ready to hand.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Great, see you later.”

  Breytenbach strode past the site of the fire. The blackened grass and cracked walls were a blight on the land; a place of loss and sorrow. Most of the rubble had been picked through and shored up already. The little bit that could be salvaged from the mess was saved, but in the end, they had lost almost everything.

  Julianne and Elise had already gathered up all possible supplies left in the camp and packed it for the trip, setting aside only enough to keep them going these last few days in their old home.

  Joseph and Lucas were stripping the buildings, taking everything of value and loading it. Sadly, they’d have to abandon the excavator. The goats and wildlife would be set free too, let out through a gap in the fence when the time came.

  Phillip and Abraham were gathering up the crops, saving seeds and cuttings from the plants while Dave did likewise in the orchard and vegetable plots. Jonathan and Dr. Lange were packing up the infirmary and their research, while Hannah was outfitting Tallulah to act as an ambulance of sorts.

  Most people had recovered from their injuries on the night of the fire except Erica who had a concussion, and Max who’s leg would need time to heal. Still, Breytenbach thought it would be a good idea to have a mobile medical unit secure from the undead and nothing was safer than Tallulah.

  Every few seconds a muffled whap sounded above his head, a shot fired from either Liezel or Kirstin’s rifles. The fire had drawn every infected for miles around, and the camp was effectively under siege. The sound had now become part of everyday life. It was white noise, always there in the background just like the occasional shots coming from the outer fence.

  The two women rarely left the watchtower anymore except to eat and sleep, and their stellar aim provided much-needed support to Lisa and her team. Though their numbers had swelled with the addition of all remaining hands, they were hard-pressed to keep the undead from filling the moat and plowing over the fence.

  He finally found Max at the outer gate, patrolling for zombies who’d fallen into the moat alongside Martin, Jed, and Josh. They no longer bothered to remove the corpses, leaving them where they lay, and the stink was incredible.

  “How are we holding up, Max?” Breytenbach asked, noting his pale face.

  “Not well. For every one we kill, three more show up. We won’t last long, at this rate. How are the plans for the evacuation coming along?”

  “The day after tomorrow. Is that soon enough?” Breytenbach asked.

  “I don’t know, Captain. We’re all exhausted. Can’t you speed it up?” Max said, moving forward to spear yet another zombie clawing at the earthen walls.

  “Not really. I’ve done all I can for now. I will send over more people to help with the defenses once they’ve finished their tasks. We just need to last two more nights,” Breytenbach said, eyeing the trickle of shambling figures that stumbled across the open field toward them.

  “If you say so, Captain,” Max said.

  At that moment, Breytenbach spotted a thick plume of dust rising above the horizon. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Max said shading his eyes.

  As they gathered together to watch, a silver sedan burst through the treeline and zig-zagged toward them, bouncing over tussocks of grass. It swung to a stop kicking up rocks and earth. The driver jumped out and ran toward them, heading for the barrier that blocked the only entrance.

  Several zombies honed in on him, converging from all directions. Two rifle shots sounded, and two infected fell with bullets in their skulls. Max added his fire to the fray, dropping two more with his sidearm. This gave the stranger enough of a lead to reach the barrier.

  “Michael!” Breytenbach cried, recognizing the man at once. “It’s him.”

  Without waiting for assistance, Michael clambered across the steel and wood contraption, putting it between himself and the infected who scratched at it with futile longing. A few impaled themselves on the spikes and hung like rag dolls, moaning all the time.

  Max helped him down, and Michael paused in front of them, sweating and out of breath. “Fuck, that was close. What’s going on here? Where did all the zombies come from?”

  “It’s a long story, and I’ll fill you in later,” Breytenbach said. “If you’re here to stay, that is.”

  “I am. For now.”

  Breytenbach studied him with shrewd eyes.“Something tells me you have news.”

  “I do, and it’s not the good kind.”

  “What is it?”

  “Hiran. He’s coming for you.”

  “Hiran?”

  “Yes, and this time, he plans on wiping out each and every person here, and he’s got the means to do it.”

  Breytenbach sucked in a breath. “That throws a spanner in the works.”

  Max nodded. “It does.”

  “Tell us what you know, Michael, and leave nothing out,” Breytenbach said.

  For the next few minutes, all was quiet as Michael told the tale of following Hiran and his trail of destruction all the way to Naval Hill. He told them of the refuge and what happened to it once George wormed his way inside. He relayed the conversation he’d overheard, and his decision to return and warn the camp of the impending attack.

  Breytenbach absorbed it all, forming a vivid picture in his mind of their new enemy, one far more dangerous than Ke Tau had ever been. “You’ve come back just in time, Michael. We’re on the verge of evacuating, and our route would have taken us right through Bloemfontein and straight into a trap.”

  “Thank God, I came back then. Why are you evacuating?” Michael asked with a frown.

  Breytenbach allowed Max to get Michael up to speed while he mulled over the problem in his mind. How to sneak dozens of women and children past Hiran without him knowing they were there. Once in St. Francis, they’d be safe, but until they reached it, they were vulnerable. “I think it’s time to take the fight to the enemy.”

  “What do you mean, Captain?” Max asked.

  “I mean, we get our people loaded up and on their way to St. Francis where they’ll be safe while a separate group attacks Naval Hill.”

  “A distraction,” Max said.

  “Yes. It’s the only way to ensure our people’s safety. We cannot risk them falling into Hiran’s hands.”

  “Why not bypass Bloemfontein altogether?” Max asked.

  “Because we don’t know what awaits us there. It’s unknown territory while we know exactly what to expect on the route Martin took. It’s safe and passable. We know it is.”

  “Except for Hiran,” Max pointed out.

  “If we catch him by surprise, we can take him down before he knows what hit him. We’ve got Michael here who already knows the layout, and we’ll have the advantage.”

  “It’s risky,” Max said.

  “Nothing comes without risk,” Breytenbach replied.

  “Besides, Hiran must die. A monster like that can’t be allowed to roam free,” Michael said. “Even if I have to go alone, I’m going back.”

  Max considered this before he nodded. “All right. The plan is solid, and the benefits outweigh the rest. Let’s do it.”

  “Excellent,” Breytenbach said. “I’ll get on it straight away, and work out the details. This time, we’ll see justice done and our families safe.”

  “Amen to that,” Max agreed.

  As Breytenbach walked away, he had the feeling that the puzzle pieces were coming together. The chicken killer, the fire, the infected growing hardier with time, and the camp’s failing defenses; it had all pointed them in one direction. St. Francis. All they needed to do was get there safely. And if we can stamp on that cockroach Hiran on our way there, so much the better.

  Later that night, Breytenbach was regretti
ng his decision to call a meeting and announce their evacuation and attack plans. He sighed and briefly closed his eyes, wishing he could whisk away the buzz of angry voices with a flick of his wrist.

  “Why don’t we just avoid Bloemfontein altogether?” Julianne insisted for the hundredth time.

  “Because we don’t know the terrain around it,” Max answered, the purple shadows under his eyes even more pronounced than usual. “We could walk into a horde of zombies, a trap, a hostile community, a blocked freeway…anything.”

  “I know, but attacking Hiran? Are you all crazy?” Julianne’s cheeks were stained with angry blood, her fingers curled into fists.

  “It’s not crazy,” Breytenbach replied in his most placating tone of voice. “We’ll have the element of surprise.”

  He might as well have saved his breath because she stabbed the air in front of his face with a pointed finger. “And you! Don’t even start with me. You know what Jonathan said, and despite that, you still want to lead the attack yourself?”

  “I have to,” Breytenbach said. “Max is injured. He can’t fight with that leg. Nor can Martin. We need him to get us into St. Francis. I’m the most experienced one here. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “Promises are just words, Christo,” she replied, standing up so suddenly her chair toppled over with a crash. “I’m out of here.”

  Without further ado, she stormed out, leaving a red-faced Breytenbach to face the rest on his own. “Guess it’s the couch for me,” he said with a weak chuckle.

  “Maybe she’s right, Captain,” Max said. “Ronnie can take your place, I’m sure. So could Michael.”

  “We need all hands on deck, Max. This is the best way,” Breytenbach insisted, though deep down he knew they were right. He just wouldn’t admit it out loud. I need this. I need to protect my family.

  “I have to raise objections to Aiden going as well,” Dr. Lange interjected.

  “How so?” Max asked.

  “Well, besides Nadia, he’s the only one here who’s survived the virus. I need him to create a vaccine.”

  “Surely you’ve drawn his blood already?” Breytenbach said.