George’s head snapped back as the fist connected with his cheek.
“Shut the fuck up, old man,” Sam screamed, “That is your daughter over there.” He rushed over to Sally, and cradled her as she wept from the pain.
George rubbed at his cheek, and stared at the young man holding his daughter. The mist cleared from his mind. The events of the last day were but a blur. All he could see now was that his daughter lay in pain on the blood-sodden ground. He stalked over to her and leaned towards her.
“I’m so sorry,” he moaned, and reached out to stroke her hair.
Sam pushed him angrily away, “Fuck off,” he spat.
“Guys, we need to move,” Lex said, urgency in her tone.
They turned to look at the approaching hoard, “Can you move at all?” Sam asked Sally.
Bravely, she nodded, “If you can help me up, maybe I can walk.”
Sam gently put his arms under hers and pulled her to her feet. She tentatively touched the floor with her foot. She screamed with pain and sagged into Sam’s arms.
“I can’t. I can’t do it, Sam. Leave me here. Go.”
“No. I can’t leave you,” Sam sobbed. “Not now,” a boom from a shotgun startled them both, and they turned to see Chloe shooting at the encouraging horde.
Lex picked up the shotgun that Sally had dropped, and she took up position next to Chloe. Together they fired into the mob. The repeated blasts stemmed the flow, slowing but not stopping the invasion.
“We can’t hold them,” Chloe screamed as she picked her next target.
Sam looked at the woman he loved. Then he looked back at George, who paced up and down, staring at his daughter, his eyes clear and focused. Worry emanated from him. Sanity had returned. Sam took one more look at Sally, and made a decision. The tears fell from his eyes and landed on her face. They merged with her own. He kissed her gently on the lips, “I love you, Sally,” he whispered.
She offered him a watery smile, “I love you too.”
Gently he picked her up and carried her over to George.
“Take her,” he ordered. The two men locked eyes. An unspoken message passed between them. Understanding gleaned, and George nodded. Then he took his daughter from Sam. He walked away as fast as he could.
Sam watched them briefly, he saw as Sally’s face appeared over her father’s shoulder, a look of shocked understanding on her face.
“Nooooo,” she howled. His heart broke as he turned away, picking up the shotgun. He joined Chloe and Lex.
“Go,” he ordered, “I’ll distract them. Just get her away from here.”
“Sam, no. You can’t hold them,” Lex protested.
“Just go,” he replied, his lips pursed in concentration. and he took a shot at the encroaching horde.
“Sam … You can’t, you’ll die,” Chloe pleaded, her voice breaking.
“And she’ll live. I’m doing this for her. I’m doing this for all of you. Better that one should die and four should live,” he turned to Chloe, A look of sheer determination fixed on his face, “the greater good, right?”
Chloe stared at him, then gave an imperceptible nod.
“Go,” he ordered again. His tone calm, no trace of fear. Instead, it was the voice of a man, with utter conviction, that the path he had chosen was the right one.
Chloe pecked him on the cheek, “Sam… I… thank you.” She choked, then with Lex, she turned to flee.
With the two of them out of immediate danger, Sam grinned manically.
“Come and get me, you fuckers,” he shouted. He sprinted up and down the line, dodging away from the arms that grasped at him. The sound of groans increased as the temptation was dangled in front of the crowd of bloodthirsty zombies.
Thirty-Two
Resolve is fixed on Sam’s face. How did a jack-the-lad scumbag turn into the brave man standing before me? I know that nothing we say will change his mind. I know that if we delay any longer, we will all die. A glance in George’s direction shows me that he isn’t making much progress. We need the seconds that Sam’s sacrifice will buy us.
I kiss him on the cheek and whisper words of thanks. Words that will never, ever, be enough. I take Lex’s hands and pull her with me as I begin to run.
Tears stream down my face as we speed towards George and Sally. I can hear Sally’s sobs in front of me; she sounds like an animal in pain. Behind me, I can hear Sam taunting the zombies and the occasional boom of a shotgun. I count the shots. Two spent, four more to go before he will need to reload.
Boom, four left. I risk a glance behind me. Sam is running in a different direction to us.
Boom, three left.
He is trying to lead them away from us.
Boom, one left.
“Fuckers,” Sam screams, his voice ringing out, despite the distant cacophony of music and gunshots, and the closer moans of the horde.
Boom. He is out.
I do not turn around. I cannot watch this. I fix my eyes on George’s retreating back.
When the attack inevitably comes, Sam screams. A sound that will haunt me until the day I die.
Sally howls as she watches from over George’s shoulder. She struggles to free herself from his arms, but George grips her resolutely. He is stronger than she is. She stops fighting him and sags against her father. She watches powerlessly as the man she loves is ripped apart. I’m certain that a part of her dies with him.
But with that death comes life. Sam’s sacrifice has bought us the time we need to make ground. Another glance tells me that their progress towards us has ground to a halt. They are falling over each other trying to get to Sam’s dying body. Trying to get a taste of fresh meat.
The sight sickens me. Still, I run.
We catch up with George and Sally. Her loud howls turn to silent sobs.
“Let me help you with her,” I offer.
The sweat pours from his forehead. His cheeks bright red from the exertion. He shakes his head and holds her tighter. Determined to get his daughter to safety.
I take the knife from my backpack and cut the arms from the one that sits on George’s back. He had long since surrendered the bag he held in his hands. The sudden removal of the extra weight allows him to stand a little straighter, to move a little faster.
We jog along together for what seems like hours but is probably far less. I keep a regular check behind me. The zombies are back in pursuit, but they are not gaining on us. Sam's sacrifice has made all the difference.
A new noise interrupts the dull sounds of groans. I realise that I can no longer hear the music. This sound is familiar and offers comfort. It is the sound of engines. I squint into the distance, trucks are moving along a road. Painted in the distinctively dark green colour that is used by the army. I break into a sprint.
The thought of safety pushes me on. I don’t notice the tightness in my chest.
I don’t feel the ache in my legs. I run. Faster than I have ever run before, and I reach the road.
I am a mess. My hair is wild, my clothes covered in blood and mud. What if they mistake me for a zombie and shoot me? Then I remember the simplest of truths.
Zombies don’t talk, “Help,” I call out, “Help, please, help,” I reach the road. I shout as loudly as I can. I wave my arms frantically. Tears flood down my face. We are so close to safety.
A driver spots me and draws his vehicle to a stop. Through the window, I see him say something into his radio. The whole convoy stops.
Men in uniform get out of the first vehicle. One stays on top with a big machine gun that he points towards the field from where I emerged.
“My friends,” I shout, “please help my friends,” more soldiers drop from the truck and run past me.
I turn and watch as they drop to a knee and aim their guns at the field. Four of them stay standing, and break off into a sprint towards Sally, George and Lex.
I am pulled roughly into the van. “Have you been bitten or scratched?” a man asks me.
“No,�
� I sob, “I fell. It’s not my blood.”
“Okay,” he points me towards a seat. Gratefully I sit, my breath is gradually coming back. From my position, I watch as the four men reach the others. Two of them take Sally from George and point towards the vehicles. The other two walk slowly backwards, their guns aimed at the horde.
Sally is taken to a separate vehicle. George and Lex join me. They get asked the same questions that I did, and gave the same answers.
“Sally?” I ask when they are finished.
“They’ve taken her to the medics,” Lex replies, tears creating clean streaks down her face as they wash away the dirt.
The soldiers climb back in with us. No one says a word. The vehicles come to life; the sound is deafening as grenades are launched, cracks sound from rifle shots and the machine guns mounted on top of the vehicles kick into life. I close my eyes and bury my head in my hands. I cannot watch. I cannot bear the thought of seeing Sam in that crowd.
The horde is decimated in minutes.
The engines of the vehicles roar back into life. My entire body sags. We are safe. The relief overwhelms me, and the tears begin to fall again.
When we get to the camp, Lex, George and I are checked over, then sent straight to the hospital, where we shower, and get given cleans clothes. I ask a nurse about Steve. He hasn’t heard of him, but gives me directions to the admin block, where he says I’ll be able to find out.
Before I leave the hospital, I stop in to see Sally. She is awake, and her broken ankle is in a cast.
The painkillers they have given her do little to take away the true source of her pain. Her loss is written all over her face, and my heart breaks for her.
I take her hand in mine, “I’m so sorry Sal.”
She looks at me. Her eyes are red from crying. She says nothing in response.
“Sam sacrificed himself for us. He was so brave. The bravest man I’ve ever met.”
“I know,” she nods. “I’m lucky to have known him.” The tears fall again, "It just hurts so much."
I hold her as she cries into my arms. I can’t leave her. I’ve waited this long to see Steve. I can wait a little longer. I hold her until the sobs turn to silent tears, then finally into silence. The painkillers do their job, and she falls asleep in my arms. I gently release her and tuck her in. I kiss her on the forehead and back out of the room.
George is waiting outside. “She’s sleeping. You should go to her. Be there when she wakes up.” He nods and moves towards the door. “George,” I call out. He turns to me. “You did well today.” He smiles sadly and nods again. Without a word, he turns back towards the door and steps inside.
“Chloe?” a familiar voice calls from behind me. My hearts skips a beat, and I spin around.
“Steve,” I cry out and fly into his arms, “What … How did you know I was here?”
“I was in the convoy that stopped to pick you up. I saw Sally get taken to the medics. I knew you had to be with her. I would have been here earlier, but we had to go to a debrief.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now,” I smile up at him.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you.”
“I’m sorry I was angry when you left. I know you did the right thing by coming here.”
We speak at the same time. Neither of us replies to the other. The time for words has passed.
I lean in to receive his kiss. When his lips touch mine, the horrors of this new world fall away.
I am safe.
I am home.
One Year Later
I stand and stretch, my lower back aches from being on my knees for the last few hours. Steve will be back soon. He’ll tell me off when he knows I’ve been in the allotments again. He’ll remind me that it’s not good for the baby, and I’ll remind him that the food I am growing will help feed him or her.
Our lives today are unrecognisable from what they once were, yet somehow, I’m happier. Life is simpler, and with little technology to distract us, we spend more time talking, creating friendships. Food and clothing are allocated fairly. Punishment for crimes is swift and harsh. We are all equal.
Of course, I’m nervous when Steve goes out on patrol, zebs massively outnumber survivors, but military casualties are minimal.
Civilians aren’t allowed off campus. I do hear rumours of gangs, preying on survivors that haven’t found us yet. When our troops encounter them, they are dealt with accordingly. They don’t seem to offer any threat to our way of life.
When we got here, it took us all time to adjust. It took a long time to feel truly safe, and the nightmares are yet to stop. Steve’s letters give me great comfort in the early hours, when I wake sweating and screaming. Knowing that he was thinking about me in the brief time we were apart is reassuring. I have never told Lex or Sally about those letters. They are mine, private and sacred.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be out here,” Sally’s merry voice breaks me from my reverie. The girls meet me after work every day, and we walk back home together. We live in the same block, we each have our own rooms but share a communal living area and kitchen.
“Ssshhh, don’t tell Steve,” I laugh in response.
“Any signs of labour yet?” Lex asks. She leans forward to pat my swollen belly.
“Nope, but I’m sure it’s going to be any day now,” I say.
Lex is training to be a doctor, which in this new life, means learning quickly and being expected to perform basic medical procedures alone. She works with her new girlfriend and together they are going to assist in my delivery. It will be her first birth, and she’s very excited about it. Some of the other new mothers were reluctant to have someone so young and inexperienced, but I would trust Lex with my life. It will be nice to have a familiar face in the room in case Steve is on patrol. Apparently, paternity leave doesn’t apply in an apocalypse.
“How’s your dad?” I ask Sally as we head back to our rooms.
“I had lunch with him today,” Sally replies, “He’s started work on the perimeter extension. Apparently, he was allowed to use a hammer today.” She laughed.
“Well that’s progress,” I chuckle. It’s been a standing joke that George hadn’t actually built anything since becoming an apprentice. He’s spent the past year fetching and carrying for the people who know what they’re doing. Yet, he seems content with his new life. While we’re a low-grade zone, which means that we don’t house anyone important, like politicians or royalty, there is still the opportunity to be influential here. Instead, George volunteered to join the building team. He told Sally that he wanted to do something that would make a difference. That would mean something in the future.
Ironically, Sally works as the assistant to the civilian leader.
She is in an influential position, she helps make decisions on the running of the zone, and she is on first name terms with all the section heads. It keeps her busy and her mind in the present. Her ankle healed well, but she has never been the same since that day. She can be chatting and laughing happily, and then a cloud passes over her, and she will become quiet and withdrawn.
I spot Steve walking towards us up the road. He’s home early today, must have been a very quiet patrol. I wave at him, and he jogs towards us, a frown on his face.
“You’ve been in the allotments, haven’t you?”
“No,” I answer quickly.
“Liar,” he laughs and points at my muddy knees. “Have you told them yet?”
“Told us what?” Lex asks.
“Nope, not yet,” I grin.
“What?” Sally demands.
“We’ve decided on the name,” I say.
“But you don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet,” Lex says, confused.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What, why?”
“Because we’re going to call him or her Sam.” I watch Sally carefully for a reaction. We chose the name a few weeks ago, and I’ve put off telling her. With the baby due imminently, Steve and I dec
ided that we needed to tell her today.
“Sam,” she says slowly. Tears prickle her eyes, which contradict the smile that breaks out on her face, “it’s perfect.”
We fall silent and turn towards the door that leads to our block of rooms. As we enter Sally takes my hand in hers, and ever so quietly whispers, “Thank you.”
A note from the author
Firstly, thanks to you dear reader for reading Safe Zone: The Greater Good. I really hope you enjoyed this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’d love to hear your thoughts, and I can be contacted at [email protected].
If you have the opportunity it would be great if you could leave a review on amazon.
My next book, Safe Zone: The Descent, is in progress and will be out soon. For updates please follow me on Facebook.
The Greater Good has been a labour of love, but it would not have been possible without the support of so many;
Thanks to David at DHP Publishing for all the support and encouragement and for taking a chance on me. Thanks to Susan for the fantastic editing and to Claire at Spurwing Creative for the fantastic cover.
A huge thank you to Leon, Jeff, Simon and Joanne for your comments and advice. Thanks also to the authors that have given me hints and tips on writing. You know who you are. Your help has always been open and honest and I’m so grateful
To Nicola, the best walking buddy and friend a girl could ask for. Thank you for putting up with me going on for hours about the characters and the plot, but mostly for your enthusiasm and belief.
Lastly, thank you to Adam. Without whom, this book would not have been possible. It was Adam that planted the seed and encouraged me to try writing my own book.
So I did, and here we are.
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