Last Another Day (7 page)

Max glanced down at his uniform then back at her. “Well, ma'am. I'm not with the army at the moment. And this is not a rescue mission. We're just survivors, like yourself.”

Her face dropped, disappointment setting in. “What do we do now?”

“Well, you can come with us. We're setting up base in the riot police quarters up the street,” Max offered.

“Is it safe?”

“I can't guarantee your safety, ma'am. But it's better than staying here. We'll do our best to protect you,” Max said.

“Well, I suppose that's all I can ask for right now.”

She took charge of the children and packed up their stuff while Logan disposed of the dead husband's body. After loading the two vehicles with as much as they could salvage, they headed back to base. It was just after three. After unloading everything, they collapsed into chairs.

“I'm beat,” Logan said, rubbing his face. “And hungry.”

“Me too.” Max’s shoulders drooped.

“Well, why don't you boys relax? I'll make something to eat and sort out all this stuff.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” Max said.

“Call me Elise.”

What followed the rescue of Elise and her children turned out to be a strangely peaceful period, one that passed in a blur of hard work interspersed with sporadic raids.

Elise took over the cooking and under her enterprising hand, the dining and sitting rooms expanded to become a common area where everyone gathered to have their meals. She cataloged and stored the incoming supplies while the offices became bedrooms, the kitchen expanded with added fridges and a laundry room.

The children appeared to be adjusting. Anna was a sweet child and often helped her mother with the chores while the two boys became close. They tried hard to act like adults and took it upon themselves to patrol the fence and keep watch in between their other work.

As for Logan and Max, they worked hard, raiding the shops and houses in the area and eradicating any infected in the vicinity.

After a week had passed, they convened in the dining room to discuss their progress. Elise was putting the final touches on supper and Logan's stomach rumbled as the delicious smells drifted through.

“God, I'm starving.”

“You're always hungry, Logan. What's new?”

“Do you blame me with Elise's cooking?”

“Nope. Can't say I do.”

“Right. So where are we sitting at?” Logan began.

“Well, we've cleared the houses in the vicinity. We've erected roadblocks to discourage wandering infected, strung barbed wire all around the fence and built up a small stockpile of guns and ammunition. What am I missing here?”

“The fence. It's not strong enough. If a group of those things comes through, they'll plow right over it. They don't feel anything.”

“That's true. And what happens if a breach occurs? We should reinforce the doors and windows,” Max suggested.

“Don't forget the electricity. It's bound to go out any day now. We need a generator and a lot of fuel.”

Max blew a breath through his nose and slumped down. His uniform wasn't quite so pristine anymore, sporting stains and tears in several places. His face boasted the beginnings of a wiry beard and his hands were cut and blistered from stringing the barbed wire.

At first, Logan had thought little of the clean-cut soldier boy Max represented but after a week of brutal labor and constant death, his respect for the man had grown. It was one reason he hadn’t left yet. That, and the fact that with Elise and the kids there, Max needed him, needed his expertise with a gun.

“Okay, first things first, where can we get a generator and lots of fuel?” Logan asked.

“The industrial area,” Max said. “It's not far from here.”

“Can we risk it?”

“I think we can. The virus hit this town on a weekend while the industrial area was deserted. It should be safe enough.”

“We might find other supplies too,” Logan mused.

“Such as?”

“A truck would be nice, some tools, building material…”

“Sounds like we've got a plan. First thing tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you think we...”

“That's enough talk, boys,” Elise interrupted. “Time for dinner.”

A plate heaped high with mashed potatoes, gravy, fried mushrooms, and steak, was placed in front of each.

“Have you washed your hands?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am,” they answered in concert.

“Good. I don't want zombie blood at the dinner table.”

“Where're the kids?” Logan asked.

“I sent them off to bed with an early supper. I wanted to talk to you two in private.” She placed a large salad in the middle of the table before seating herself down.

“About what?” Logan crammed a huge forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“I want to know what the situation is.”

“Max, that's your department,” Logan said. “You're the leader here.”

Max raised an eyebrow at that but didn't protest, turning instead to Elise. “What do you want to know, exactly?”

“First, how is it looking out there?”

“We haven't gone out far enough to really know. We're sticking close to home, for now, clearing the area, gathering supplies.”

“Speaking of which, we're running out of fresh vegetables.” She indicated the salad. “That's the last of the lettuce. I'm preserving and freezing as much as I can but I need more Consol bottles, vinegar, and salt.”

“All right,” Max nodded. “Think we could hit a store soon, Logan?”

“Maybe. If we're real careful.” Logan jammed another forkful into his mouth. His plate was emptying at a rapid pace so he scooped up a double helping of salad.

“You could look for some seeds too. Then I can start a garden out back,” Elise added.

“All right, but tomorrow we're hitting the industrial area. We need generators and fuel. The electricity's not gonna last,” Max said.

“What about water? Once the power goes out, the water will stop too,” Elise said.

“Oh, man. I didn't even think of that.” Max thumped his forehead.

“It's a problem,” Logan agreed. “A big one.”

“It's something we'll have to think about. Elise, get the boys to fill up every available container we've got with water tomorrow. Meantime, Logan and I will get a generator and fuel and some building material for the fence,” Max instructed.

“The fence? What's wrong with the fence?”

“It's not strong enough. But I don't know how we're going to build it up if it's just the two of us,” Max leaned back in his chair. “There's too much to do.”

“Why don't you use cars?” Elise asked.

Max and Logan stared at her, unsure what she meant.

“You know, take abandoned cars and park them on the inside of the fence.”

“That might actually work,” Max said.

“It could. It would fortify the fence and obstruct the view of the inside of the grounds,” Logan added.

They spent another hour hashing over the challenges they faced before seeking their beds. The next morning, fortified with a solid breakfast, Logan and Max left for the industrial area.

They drove in one of the Nyalas—not taking any chances. With its armored plating and bulletproof windows, there wasn't much that could stop a Nyala. Nothing undead anyway.

They pulled to a stop in front of an auto repair shop.

“Want to try it?” Logan asked.

“Sure, why not,” Max answered as he got out.

It was a chilly morning with a stiff breeze that cut through the skin. Lifting his head, Logan sniffed the wind. “It's going to rain.”

“You can smell rain?” Max asked.

“No. But I can see the storm clouds on the horizon over there,” Logan pointed.

Max grinned at this rare joke from Logan.

They moved fast, without a sound. After a week of working together, they had built up a rapport and were quite efficient. They'd move forward in stages, clearing room after room. At times, they'd pause and make a noise, a knock or a shout and see if any infected responded. It lessened the chances of being surprised and gave them a fighting chance. One they sorely needed.

The auto repair shop proved to have a lot of useful tools, car spares, and oil but no fuel or generator.

Logan pointed at an engineering shop. “Let's try over there.”

The doors were locked. Logan tried to pry open the security gates with a crowbar but they were impossible to break into.

Eyeing the fence, Logan asked, “Give me a boost?”

Balancing on Max's back, he peered over and studied the yard. In the far corner, he spotted movement. “I see something.” After a moment more, Max eased him to the ground. “There's one infected in the yard, probably a security guard.”

“Let's go then.”

They climbed over and approached the lone zombie. The ex-security guard stood with his back to them, moaning plaintively at something on the other side of the fence. Creeping up, Logan dispatched him with a swift blow.

He bent down to wrench free his ax and search for the shop keys when Max whistled. “Would you look at that.”

Logan looked up, through the chain-link fence into the next yard. A large warehouse dominated the grounds, surrounded by scraggly grass and patches of gravel. Attached by a chain to a tree, lay a large dog. Or at least, it used to be big. Now it was a mere shadow of one.

“Ah, shit,” Logan swore. At the sound of their voices, the dog moved its head, gazing at them with glazed eyes. It was still alive.

“That's what he was after,” Max said, nudging the dead security guard with his foot. “What do we do now?”

“We try to save it,” Logan replied.

They used the guard's keys to get inside and search the premises. They found a small truck, big enough to load everything they needed, a generator, a tank of fuel and bolt cutters.

Filling a bowl with water, they headed back to the fence. After making a hole, Logan slipped through while Max stood guard. The dog was emaciated, but it had enough strength left to drink the water. Empty bowls next to the dog explained how it had managed to last till then.

Probably drank rain water too.

Logan rubbed its head, “There you go, boy. Drink up. We're taking you home.” He looked at Max. “Let's load him in the truck with the rest of the stuff and go home. We've got what we need.”

“Yeah, let's not push our luck. The next place might not be so easy to hit,” Max cautioned. “We can always come back.”

An hour later, they returned home to an astonished Elise and three excited kids. “Can we keep him?” Thembiso begged, deep brown eyes fixed on the dog.

“Yes, we can keep him. If he lives,” Logan replied.

“Oh, he'll live. I'll make sure of that,” Elise replied. “What he needs is some nourishing food. Thembiso, warm up a bowl of last night's soup. Peter, get him some water. Anne, why don't you make him a nice, warm bed?”

Satisfied that the dog was in good hands, Logan and Max returned to their work. They unloaded their booty and spent the next few hours setting up the generator.

“We should get a backup generator,” Max said. “And fuel. More water too.”

“We're in deep shit, aren't we?”

“I didn't want to say anything but yes, we are.” Max sighed. “What if a horde of those things attack? None of the others can fight and scavenging is dangerous with just the two of us. How long before one of us gets killed?”

“I know.” Logan felt kinda good at the thought he was needed, but also stifled. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to run, on the other, to stay.

They trudged back inside and sat down at a table. The kids chattered, excited by the new addition to their home whilst Elise dished up their food.

As he ate, Logan looked around at the smiling faces that surrounded him. It was so warm, so comforting. Like home.

I can't leave. Not now.

The days passed, filled with ceaseless activity and hard work. The dog survived, his ribs filling out under Elise's care. They reinforced the doors and windows while Max taught Elise and the boys to shoot. He tried to teach Anne too but she cried every time they put a gun in her hands.

Then, on the morning of the fifteenth day, something unexpected happened.

Logan woke up with a start, ears pricked for danger. He was certain he had heard a noise. Getting up, he got dressed and looked out the window through a slit in the boards. It was still dark but the promise of dawn glimmered on the horizon.

A hoarse cry of pain stole his attention once more. He spotted movement at the gate. People. He was sure of it. Logan moved fast, waking up Max and Elise.

“Elise, stay here. Watch the children.”

She nodded, eyes wide in her pale face.

None of them knew what to expect.

Together, Max and Logan approached the gate, guns at the ready. A small group of people huddled in front of it.

“Who's there?” Max cried.

A shadow detached itself from the group. “Are you survivors?” The voice belonged to an older man with iron-gray hair that could be seen even in the faint light of day. “Please, let us in. I'm begging you.”

“Who are you?” Logan asked.

“We're just like you. Survivors. Running from those things.”

“Why should we trust you?”

"Please. We mean no harm. We've got a pregnant lady here and a girl who's wounded. If we stay out here, we'll die."

Logan glanced past him at the group. They looked like a pitiful bunch. A girl with red hair clutched a bloody rag tied around her arm, crying softly while supported by two young men. Another girl with black hair and eyes stared at Logan while a pregnant woman clung to her husband, exhausted.

Logan gestured to Max. “Your call.”

Max stared at the group. “Let them in.”

Elise watched the sad little group troop into her home with a mixture of apprehension and fear. Who were they? What were they doing here?

More importantly: What did they want?

These questions and more milled through her mind as she struggled to keep the two boys and the over-excited Buzz under control. She needn’t worry about Anne, though. Her daughter was entrenched behind her, both fists knotted into her shirt-tail.

Elise’s eyes traveled over the members of the group. An older man with a lined face and husky build was in charge, hustling everyone inside like a mother hen with her chicks.

Two young men, brothers by the looks of it, half-carried a red-headed girl. Sweat beaded her forehead and her skin had a waxen sheen that boded ill. Elise spotted a wound on her arm, seeping blood.

That will need attention.

A dark-haired girl stuck to them like a shadow, looking about her with mistrust which Elise put down to fear.

Lastly came another man, middle-aged, tall and slim, supporting his pregnant wife. Her bulging belly spoke of a pregnancy in its later stages and it was here that Elise’s attention fixated. The poor woman was in labor, arousing Elise's motherly instincts.

“Peter, put water on to boil. Thembiso, fetch clean towels,” Elise ordered.

She turned to Anne, prying her fingers loose. “Anne, sweetie. Take Buzz to your room and keep him busy. I need to help these people.”

With eyes as large as saucers, Anne nodded and coaxed the dog away. Buzz wasn’t keen on going, his protective instincts aroused, but he loved Anne and after a while, followed her.

“What do we do with them, Elise?” Max asked. She found it amusing that he would turn to her for direction. His consternation was clear, though, when the pregnant woman cried out, causing him to flinch.

“We need to get the rest of them settled while I see to her, Max. She’s in labor.”

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, turning pale.

“Why don’t you help her husband take her to one of the spare bedrooms? I’ll be along shortly.”

“Okay,” he replied.

Elise was grateful she’d prepared extra rooms in case they found more survivors. Not that she’d been expecting an entire group to show up on their doorstep.

Elise turned to Logan. “Why don’t you check them for bites?”

“She’s been bitten,” he replied, pointing to the red-haired girl.

In an instant, the atmosphere in the room changed.

The older man in charge placed himself in front of the sick girl. “No one is harming her.” The rest of the group likewise clustered around, forming a barrier and lending their silent support.

It was an explosive situation. They were all armed and Logan did not inspire confidence with the stony expression on his face. The two brothers, in particular, watched him with wary caution.

Max stepped to the forefront, raising a placating hand. “No one will hurt her. But we need to check the rest of you for infection and we will have to take precautions.”

“What precautions?” their leader asked.

“Either Logan or I have to guard her at all times. She’s infected and there are children on the premises. We cannot put them at risk.”

The older man considered this. “Seems fair.”

Elise stepped forward. “Logan put her in the bedroom furthest from the rest. I’ll bring a first aid kit to treat her wound.”

He nodded, and they trooped away.

“Max, get going.”

Once they all left, Elise rushed to the storeroom, grabbing supplies as she went. Her mind was surging along, considering the possibilities. She did not foresee the night ending well.

Max had led the couple who were having a baby to the nearest spare room. Elise thrust a first aid kit into his arms. “Here. Go check on the wounded girl.”

She then puffed up several large cushions on the bed to offer a backrest and laid a bundle of stuff on the side table.

Elise turned to the woman. “Ma’am, I need to make sure you haven’t been bitten. Will you let me take a look before you lie down?”

The woman glanced up at her husband, fear in her eyes. After a few seconds, he nodded and Elise shut the door.

Together they undressed her, Elise scanning her smooth dark skin for bites. She was clean. They dressed her in a clean nightgown and helped her to lie down, propping her up until she was comfortable.

Elise turned to the husband. “Sir, if I may, I’d like to help your wife with the baby.”

The man who’d been silent the entire time scanned her face with serious eyes. He must have been comforted by what he saw because he nodded.

“Her name is Tumi and I am Joseph. Joseph Masakale.”

Elise smiled, relieved. “My name is Elise.” She glanced at Tumi, moaning on the bed. “How far along is she?”

His brow knitted in confusion and Tumi answered instead. “Seven months.”

Elise’s stomach knotted at the words. Seven months.

It’s not enough. Not without a hospital.

She gave Tumi a wide smile, though. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of you.”

Tumi nodded, some of the tension leaving her face. A knock on the door announced Thembiso with a stack of towels, followed by Peter.

“Have you boiled the water?” she asked Peter. When he nodded, she said, “Bring it in a clean bucket but rinse it first with antiseptic. Thembiso, bring bottled water and fruit juice for the lady then you both go keep an eye on Anne, please.”

They left and Elise turned back to Tumi, examining her. The news wasn’t good. There was no way to halt the contractions. She was fully dilated.

Elise turned to Joseph and led him aside. “The baby is coming, and it’s too soon. Do you understand?”

His eyes darkened, the lines around his mouth deepening.

“I will do what I can but you need to be prepared. The baby may not survive.”

After a moment, he nodded and turned away. She let him be, focusing on Tumi who writhed as another contraction gripped her. Minutes later, it passed and Elise turned to Max who hovered in the doorway.

“How are the others?” she asked.

“I’ve treated the girl’s wound and given her painkillers,” he replied. “She’s all right for the moment but the virus is progressing fast. It won’t be long.”

“Poor thing. What will happen once she turns?”

“Their leader, Ben, has assured me he will take care of it when the time comes but I’ve left Logan to guard the door.”

Elise closed her eyes for a moment.
So young to die.

“They’re all clear? The rest of them? No bites?”

“They’re fine.” He pointed at Joseph. “But I still need to check him.”

Joseph, who’d been listening, stepped forward. “I am clean but you can examine me if you want to.”

Elise left them to it, returning to Tumi. Once Max finished, he left to organize food and drink for the group while Joseph paced up and down, worry furrowing his brow.

Elise briefly left to check on Anne and the boys. They were in the common room, playing board games with Buzz hovering over them.

Once she was sure the kids were okay, she checked on the others. They were all sitting on the red-headed girl’s bed when she entered, faces drawn. Max must have given the girl strong stuff because she was pretty out of it, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

The man she now knew as Ben rose when she entered, extending his hand to her. “Thank you for helping us, Ma’am.”

“Elise,” she answered. “And you’re welcome.”

“I’m Ben or Big Ben as most like to say. This is Jacques and Armand.” He pointed to the brothers. “And that is Angie.”

Angie nodded, her dark eyes showing no expression while the brothers each shook her hand.

“What’s her name?” Elise asked, gesturing to the stricken girl.

“Susan,” Big Ben answered.

“What happened?”

“Our shelter was overrun. In the chaos, one of them got her.” His shoulders sagged. “I should have protected her.”

“It’s not your fault, Ben,” Armand answered. Ben did not seem comforted by the words and Elise felt her insides tighten with sorrow.

“Your daughter?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But as good as.”

“I’m sorry.” Elise’s eyes traveled to Susan. Her freckles stood out against the pallor of her skin, light blue eyes swimming with the knowledge that death was coming for her. Even the drugs could not ease that.

Elise swallowed hard, thinking of Anne.

That could be her on the bed.

“You’ve had something to eat? Drink?” she asked to distract herself.

“Yes, thank you.” Ben looked at her. “How is Tumi? We've been worried about her.”

Elise decided the group needed no more bad news and plastered on a smile. “She’s fine for now. I’m helping her to deliver the baby. In fact, I’d better get back now.”

He nodded. “Well, thank you again.”

She left the room, noting Logan who kept watch like a stone statue. A hard man, she was nonetheless grateful he was there. He’d make sure Susan did not turn and hurt anyone else.

Elise returned to Tumi’s side, focusing all her attention on delivering the baby. Long hours passed during which Tumi writhed and cried. Elise sponged her brow, gave her water and juice to drink and helped her to the bathroom. There wasn’t much else she could do.

At some point, Joseph left the room, preferring to stand outside away from her screams. Elise understood. It was hard to witness a loved one in pain.

A little later, Max reported that Susan had passed. A muffled shot confirmed that someone had taken care of it. Elise didn’t know whether to be sad or relieved and pushed her feelings aside for the moment.

It was mid-afternoon before the head of the baby crowned. Elise crouched between Tumi’s legs, helping the baby out of the birth canal. The umbilical cord was wrapped around the neck and one look at the grayish pallor of the skin was enough to confirm her worst fears. That, and the silence.

The baby was stillborn.

Small enough to fit into her cupped hands but perfectly formed, Elise cried silent tears as she handed the tiny form to Tumi, who burst into heart-rending sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Joseph when he entered, standing beside the bed with a stricken expression. As a mother, she knew exactly how they must feel.

It would have been a perfect little boy.