Live Another Day by Baileigh Higgins (reading in the dark .txt) 📗

role of runner. She ferried messages, water, and food between the various groups, keeping each informed.

The dining area was his next stop. The room echoed when he walked in and felt strangely empty for that time of the day. It drove home the reality of their situation, and he dragged a tired hand through his uncut hair.

Elise, dressed in carrot stained slacks with her hair in a bun, greeted him with a wan smile. “How can I help you, Max?”

“Elise, can you manage the kitchen on your own? I need all the help I can get at the moment.”

“Sure, Max. I’ll manage.”

“The kids can help you with the washing and tidying up. Megan, Anne, even Mark, and Jenny,” he continued.

“What about school?” she protested, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face.

“I’m suspending it for now.”

“I see.”

“I know it’s not ideal, but this is an emergency.”

Elise nodded. “I know, Max. I understand.”

“Thanks.” He turned to leave but hesitated. “Are you all right?”

Elise nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s okay. You have more important things to worry about than me.”

“Elise…”

“Please, go.” She turned her back on him and picked up a vegetable peeler.

With a sigh, Max made his way to the stores where he found his mother, Julianne, counting canned food. “Hi, Mom.”

She straightened up from her crouched position with a frown. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just assigning duties to everyone. While Breytenbach is gone, we’re shorthanded.”

Her face tightened at the mention of Breytenbach but remained calm. “What are my tasks?”

“This.” He waved a hand around. “Can you manage the stores and make sure everybody sticks to their rations? No freebies.”

“I can do that.”

“Good. Thanks, mom.” He stared at her for a second, pensive. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.”

“Can you keep an eye on Elise? I’m worried about her.”

Julianne sighed. “I’ve spoken to her already, but she won’t listen.”

“She’s beating herself up.”

“She is,” Julianne agreed.

“She shouldn’t. It’s not her fault. It’s Kabelo’s.”

“Tell that to her.” Julianne stared into the distance. “You know, I was so eager to be proven right about him, that I never stopped to think about the consequences.”

“None of us did. We played a dangerous game,” Max agreed. “I shouldn’t have let her persuade me to spare his life in the first place.”

Julianne laid a gentle hand on his. “You did right, Max. I see that now. We’re not murderers.”

“Perhaps, but now he’s out there, armed and dangerous, and two of our people are gone.”

“Two?” Julianne’s brow knitted into a frown before she shook her head. “No, Lisa is fine. You can bank on that.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

“Because I know that girl. She’s alive and stronger than ever. She’s a survivor.”

Max rubbed his forehead. “Maybe you’re right, but she’s not here. Neither is Logan, or Morgan, or Joanna, or any of the others we’ve lost.”

Julianne’s face softened with pity. “I know you’re worried, and I know you feel responsible. It’s only natural. But things happen, Max, and sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I know, Mom. It doesn’t make me feel better, though, or miss them any less.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed in a subdued voice. “We’re still here, though. We can’t give up.”

He studied her face, noting the fine lines around her eyes and the deep hollows in her cheeks. She looked like all of them did. Tired, hungry, overworked, and stressed. I can’t let her down. I can’t let any of them down. They deserve better.

He pulled her into a bear hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

“For what?” she asked with a startled look.

“Everything.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you later after I’ve sorted a few things out.”

“Okay.”

He left her behind still wearing a perplexed frown and strode toward the cottage he shared with Kirstin. There he pulled out his old uniform, faded and worn but whole, and put it on. Next, he put on his battle jacket and boots before heading for the armory.

It was small, nothing more than a windowless room fitted with racks and locked with a security gate. He carried one of the keys with him while another sat in Breytenbach’s pocket and the third hung around Julianne’s neck on a chain.

While everyone in the camp went about armed, the armory was used to store excess guns, ammo, and explosives. While their stores were limited, they did possess some firepower, at least.

Max unlocked the gate and slipped into the room. He pulled on a string, and a single lightbulb flickered to light. It bathed the concrete square in a yellow glow, and he allowed his eyes to travel over the racks.

A bare steel table stood in the middle, and it was here he busied himself. One by one, he cataloged the guns, going from the smallest to the biggest. With each, he checked the load, sights, and safety. Though well-maintained, a few were dirty, and he took the time to strip and oil them. Halfway through this time-consuming job, a shout drew his attention. His ears perked.

“Max.” It was Peter. He was certain of it. “Max!”

He picked up the nearest gun, a Glock 17, and rushed to the exit with the gun held ready. He paused to let his eyes adjust to the light after the dim interior. “Peter? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Something wrong?”

“It’s Lisa. She’s back, and so's Michael.” Peter’s excited face appeared in his field of vision, a broad grin on his face.

Max relaxed and flicked the safety back on. “Oh, thank God. Are they safe? Unharmed?”

Peter bobbed his head. “They’re okay, but…”

“What?”

“They’ve got two people with them, and one is hurt.” Peter hesitated, and a shadow crossed his face. “Badly hurt. They’re in the infirmary now.”

“I’m coming.”

With controlled haste, Max returned the Glock before locking up and hurrying over. There he found a knot of people clustered outside, their voices creating a low buzz in the afternoon air. It was Lisa, accompanied by Michael, a tearful young girl, and Julianne.

Julianne greeted him with a relieved smile. “Max, you’re here.”

“I am. What’s going on?”

Julianne