“What? Is that it?” Danielle cried. “Not even a single kiss or heart or anything?”
Aiden colored. “Of course, there are, but I’m not saying it out loud.”
“Phew, that’s a relief. At least, she still loves you,” Nicky snickered.
Liz clapped her hands. “That’s enough, girls. Leave Aiden be.”
Danielle and Nicky continued to giggle throughout breakfast, teasing him mercilessly about his true love until Liz finally chased them away. “Aiden and I need to talk.”
After they left, Aiden looked at her. “Yes, ma’am? You wanted to speak to me.”
“Liz,” she admonished. “And you’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Aiden sat back in surprise. “How did you know?”
“I’m not stupid, my boy.”
“Sorry...er, Liz.”
“How far is this place of Dee’s?” Liz asked. “Is it really that safe? Secure?”
“It’s far, but it’s worth it,” he replied. “I’ve seen pictures before. It’s no fort, but it’s defendable. ”
Liz folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. “Question is, are you going alone, or are you taking us with you?”
Aiden blinked. “I’d like to take you with me, of course. If you want to go, that is.”
Liz nodded. “We cannot stay here forever. We need a more sustainable place to live. This was only ever temporary.”
“Then I guess it’s decided,” Aiden replied.
She pushed her chair back and smiled. “I’ll start packing. Do tell the girls, will you?”
As she walked away, Aiden felt relieved. He’d grown attached to the family, and couldn’t imagine leaving them behind. Most of all, though, he was happy about one thing. Dee was alive. Soon, Dee. Soon we’ll be together again. Forever, this time.
THE END
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So we’ve reached the end of Aiden’s Mark but not the end of the adventure. This is book 5 in the Death’s Children Series. Would you like to find out what happens next? Then turn the page for a sneak preview of Laura’s Bane, Book 6 in the Death’s Children Series.
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Sneak Preview
This is a sneak preview of Laura’s Bane, book 6 of the Death’s Children Series.
Available Here
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BB15RDB
Chapter 1
Laura shifted on the low wall that formed her seat, the rough stones catching on her denim shorts. Waves crashed onto the rocks below her feet, their thunderous roar a constant beat that drowned out all other sounds.
A gust of wind almost tore the notepad from her fingers, and the pages fluttered in the breeze. The taste of salt coated her tongue as her gaze panned across the far horizon.
In the distance, the usual crowd of tourists that flooded the coast each year scurried across the beach like ants. They presented an array of colors against the sand, their sunburned skin a suitable canvas for the garish bikinis, cheap towels, and oversized sunglasses they wore.
“Not for me, thanks,” Laura muttered.
She brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face and turned her attention back to the sketch taking shape on her lap. Minutes passed as she shaded the picture with different hues of charcoal, her movements deft and practiced.
A thick bank of clouds moved in from the East and swallowed up the sun. She frowned and looked up at the murky sky. “I hope it’s not gonna rain.”
She twirled the pencil between her fingers as she gazed about, noting the sudden lack of foot traffic. Even the hawkers selling their gaudy trinkets and overripe mangoes were missing.
Laura shaded her eyes as she squinted at the beach. A sense of disquiet took hold when she noticed the lifesavers herding the people away from the water and toward the exit. Something had the people in a panic.
Scrambling off the wall, she took a few steps forward, curiosity driving her closer until a strange noise swung her back around. With her pad and pencil clutched to her chest, she searched for the source of the sound.
Laura shuffled forward, her flip-flops scraping on the concrete, and leaned over the wall to get a better look. A wave crashed onto the broken rocks, sending a spray of salt water into the air. The fingers of her left hand curled over the edge. What was that noise? It sounded human, and yet not.
Her hair whipped about her face, tendrils clinging to her lips as she squinted at the rocks below. The next moment, cold, damp flesh closed over her hand, the texture like that of a jellyfish.
“What the hell?” Laura cried and snatched her arm away, only to have her wrist caught in a vice-like grip.
She stumbled, nearly falling over, and the notepad clattered to the floor. A rattling growl filled her ears, like the phlegmy cough of a lifelong smoker. Instinct kicked in, and she fought against the insistent pull of the thing that had hold of her.
“Let go!” Her toes dug into the ground, and she leaned back to free herself.
Like a monster rising from the deep, a terrifying creature appeared above the wall. Its pale flesh was bruised and mottled, intensifying to dark purple in places. It glared at Laura through the thick strands of hair that flopped over its face, dripping water. Its broken teeth gnashed at the air like those of a shark.
Laura screamed, her voice rising in a shrill peal that could surely be heard for miles. She pulled at the fingers circling her wrist, desperate to break their hold. Her nails cut into the monster’s skin, shredding the meat like confetti.
Bit by bit, her arm worked loose. With a final yank, she was free and scrambled backward as the thing that used to be a woman launched itself at her. Laura screamed again, a garbled shriek of horror as she rolled to the side. The woman thing flopped on the ground like a fish before reaching for Laura once more.
“Get away!” Without meaning to, Laura lashed out with the pencil. Its sharp point pierced the woman’s cheek and got stuck there, a thin river of black blood leaking from the wound.
The woman didn’t even blink. Instead, she grabbed Laura’s tank top with both hands, fisting her fingers in the material. Using this as leverage, she pulled herself closer and aimed for the soft skin of Laura’s exposed stomach.
“Click, click, click.” The noise caused by her snapping teeth sounded like an alien language, and Laura watched in horror as they came closer to her vulnerable flesh. “Click, click, click.”
A sudden surge of anger flooded her veins, and she grabbed the quivering pencil that was still stuck in the woman’s face. It came free with a sucking sound. Before Laura had time to get nauseous, she stabbed the woman again.
“I said let go!”
Stab.
“Let go!”
Stab, stab.
“For the last time, let go of me, you nasty…whatever you are!”
Stab, stab
, pop.
The pencil pierced the woman’s eyeball which burst like a balloon, leaking foul liquid from the deflated orb. It didn’t stop her, though. She snarled at Laura while coughing up mouthfuls of seawater from her flooded lungs.
Laura cast about for a new weapon; the pencil was lodged too deeply for her to pull out. A hand landed on one of her flip-flops, and she picked it up out of sheer desperation. Rolling over, she whacked the woman with the shoe, raining blows onto her face as fast as she could.
“Die,” she cried between deep gasps for breath. “Just die already!”
A lucky strike drove the pencil deeper into the woman’s skull. The lead point pierced the brain followed by the rest of its length. The woman collapsed, her remaining eye wide open and staring.
With a relieved sob, Laura jumped to her feet and backed away. She whirled around looking for a familiar face, any face, anything human at all, but the streets were empty. Silent, except for the distant screams coming from the beach.
Laura looked in that direction, and her heart sank when she saw people attacking each other in the same manner the woman had assaulted her. More crawled up the beach, stumbled from the water, and scuttled over the rocks. They were everywhere, but more importantly, they were coming her way. She backed away on bare feet, sure of only one thing. Run. Now!
Laura sprinted toward the steep road that led away from the beach, heading toward the holiday flat her parents were renting for the week. Her leg muscles burned as she pushed her body up the hill, and her breath rasped in and out of her lungs in painful gasps.
Behind her, the notepad lay forgotten on the ground, its pages fluttering in the wind to reveal sketched ocean vistas and grand mountain views. Vibrations traveled through the crumbling concrete as a crowd of people surged through the parking lot next to the beach.
Some ran, their screams shrill as they sought to escape the horror that followed from the sandy shores, while others shuffled, their waterlogged lungs emitting gurgling moans. One, in particular, wore a tattered uniform; its once proud insignia marked him as the Captain of a famous cruise liner. His silver beard now sported pieces of bloody meat and the odd crab, while his ripped jacket barely covered his belly, swollen with intestinal gases and seawater.
Offshore, a ship drifted on the currents, abandoned by crew and guests alike in their haste to escape the terror aboard its glamorous length. Their attempts at escape had failed when death followed, their lifeboats capsizing as the injured turned on the healthy and attacked.
Blood dyed the water, and the triangular fins of sharks cut through the surf as they fed on the sudden bounty they were offered. It was too much even for them. The ship’s passengers numbered in the thousands, and many escaped untouched. The infected couldn’t swim, but once their bodies bloated, they floated well enough and were carried to shore by the tides.
A damp, rotting foot landed on the abandoned notebook, smearing a particularly mesmerizing picture of a school of dolphins at sunset into an unrecognizable pulp. More feet followed in an inexorable march toward the living.
Two lifeguards had made a run for the building that housed their offices and equipment. The tinkling of glass was loud as the dead broke in, plucking the men from their hiding spots with merciless hunger.
Bodies littered the beach, some already stirring as they reawakened, drawn from death by the virus that sought to control them. Tiny shops that sold ice cream and hot dogs were invaded by the infected, and the staff went the same way as all the rest.
Laura cast a frightened look over her shoulder and gasped when she saw how many zombies shuffled after her, their progress up the steep incline slow, but steady. She was quite sure that’s what they were. Zombies. She’d watched enough movies to recognize a walking corpse when she saw one, no matter how far-fetched the idea might seem.
Laura reached the gate of the secure complex she stayed in and fumbled for the remote control in her pocket. Her eyes searched for the guard usually stationed nearby, but he was either busy or out. The grounds were empty, and she realized she was on her own.
Her fingers closed around the remote, but panic made her clumsy, and she dropped it the moment she got it out of her denims. With a cry, she sank to her haunches and searched the ground. “No, damn it!”
The groans from the army of zombies coming her way rose in volume as they drew nearer, and the first one’s head appeared over the curvature of the road. She rushed to pick up the fallen keys and pushed the button.
With a rattle, the rusted gate began to open, and she slipped through the gap with a sigh of relief. Her trembling fingers found the button again, and she pushed it to halt its slow progress. It shuddered to a stop. Another press and the creaky thing began to close, much too slowly for her liking. “Come on, come on. Close, you stupid thing!”
Horrified, she watched as the infected entered the driveway. A flood of dead bodies headed her way, preceded by their stench. The gate slid shut with a clang just as the first zombie slammed its fists on the metal barrier, growling at Laura when she backtracked.
She turned away from the sight and ran. Past the parking lot and up the stairs she went, taking them two at a time. The door to their flat loomed ahead, and she fell against it with a sob of relief, turning the knob.
It was locked.
“What? No!” Laura cried, slamming her fists against the wood. “Mom! Dad! Open up!”
When nobody answered, she grabbed her spare keys and thrust it into the lock. It turned with a click, and the door swung open. She fell inside and slammed it shut again, making sure to lock and latch it once more.
Silence enveloped her, and the familiar scent of her mother’s perfume teased her nostrils. The woman always wore too much of the stuff, and it clung to every room she entered for days afterward. It was something that used to irritate Laura, but now she craved the smell for the sense of familiarity it offered.
She walked inside, noting the empty interior. “Mom! Dad! Are you there?”
Still nothing. No sign of her brother either. They must have left.
Laura made her way to the kitchen, her legs wobbly after her earlier headlong flight. Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth, and her body screamed for water or sustenance of any kind.
Her hand reached for the fridge but paused when she saw a note stuck to the front. It read: “Laura. We’ve gone to the shop. Stay put until we get back. Mom.”
The implications of the message sunk in and Laura stood frozen with panicked fear. Not only was she alone in a flat surrounded by zombies, but her family was out there in the open, vulnerable to attack. “I’ve got to warn them.”
End of Sneak Preview - Available Here
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BB15RDB
About the Author
South African writer and coffee addict, Baileigh Higgins, lives in the Free State with hubby and best friend Brendan and loves nothing more than lazing on the couch with pizza and a bad horror movie. Her unhealthy obsession with the end of the world has led to numerous books on the subject and a secret bunker only she knows the location of. Visit her website to sign up for updates, freebies, and more!
WEBSITE - www.baileighhiggins.com
Death's Children (Book 5): Aiden's Mark Page 4