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

sandy hair flopped over his eyes. “That he did. He’s a great man and an even better fighter.”

“Your dad?”

“He didn’t make it. We lost him when we had a breach early on. A lot of good people died that day. It wasn’t easy, especially in the beginning.”

Logan thought back to his early days with Max, Thembiso, Elise, Peter, and Anne. It hadn’t been easy for them either. “I know what you mean.”

They lapsed back into watchful silence, and not long after left behind the town with scarcely a hitch and continued until they hit the turnoff to the N2. It was a national highway and provided smooth sailing all the way across the Zalverige Valley Dam and past the Jeffrey’s Bay Wind Farm.

As ever, the rolling green hills covered with wind turbines struck Logan as a beacon. In the past, it provided hope for a more ecological future and fewer carbon emissions. Now, it represented the possibility of sustainable electricity to survivors of the apocalypse, if the power it produced could be harnessed and directed.

They drove over the Gamtoos river bridge, past the tiny town of Thornhill, and into a nature reserve that crossed a spectacular gorge. Josh, used to the stunning scenery, lay with his head back against his seat while he pretended not to notice Nadia who’d practically crawled onto his lap. She sat the entire time with her face pressed to the window, and Logan had to suppress his smile at the look of awe on her face.

“Have you never seen this part of the country before?” he asked.

“No, never. We didn’t travel much.” Her face took on a faraway look. “My mom spent all her money on drugs and booze. We never went on holiday. Ever.”

“We?”

“My brother and I.”

Logan was surprised. “You have a brother?”

“Had.” Her lips twisted. “He died when he was five.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, wondering at the grief and anger in her voice. What kind of life did she have before all this?

“So am I.” She sat back in her seat and stared ahead with a stark expression.

Logan searched for something to say but came up empty. For the first time, he realized he didn’t know that much about Nadia or her past. He’d never thought to ask and now regretted it.

“Logan, come in. Logan,” Martin’s voice crackled over the radio bringing relief from the thick atmosphere.

“I’m here.”

“We’re taking exit 713 and getting onto the R102 to Uitenhage. It’s no good trying to go through Port Elizabeth. The place is a deathtrap.”

“Are you sure about that? The highways would be the fastest route.”

“I’m sure,” came the blunt reply.

Josh opened his eyes and nodded. “He’s right. That city is a graveyard. The highways are impassible and the streets clogged with those things. Not to mention the gangs.”

“Gangs?” Nadia asked, sitting upright.

“There’s plenty of them, all fighting for survival in a city rich with both supplies and the dead,” he answered.

“So they’re dangerous?”

“They’re some of the meanest folk I’ve ever seen,” Josh said.

“Yeah, but Uitenhage?” Logan asked. “It’s right next to Port Elizabeth and chock full of people. Dead people.”

“It’s the better bet.”

Logan didn’t agree. He’d rather take a chance on the multi-lane highways in the hopes of saving time. Guess it’s not up to me, though.

Nadia turned to him. “How long will it take us to get to your camp?”

“If it was a straight shot on good roads with no delays, it could be done in nine hours. Now though, it’s a different story. We’ll be lucky to make it halfway by tonight. Damn lucky.”

“Wow, okay,” she sat back with a defeated look on her face.

He nudged her with his elbow. “Not keen on spending so much time with me?”

She shrugged. “Nah, I guess I'm just hasty.”

“We’ll get there soon enough.”

“If you say so.”

Logan turned the wheel, following after Martin, and they drove in silence for a while. In the distance, he spotted the large town, and his stomach twisted. “Look lively; we’re here.”

Josh and Nadia perked up as the first buildings enfolded them. They passed on either side in a monotone of brick, paint, glass, and mortar. Some of them were old, relics from a previous century and well-preserved. Banks of Strelitzias, the city’s national flower, and trees lined the roadsides.

“It’s pretty,” Nadia said. “If you ignore the zoms.”

“Yeah, it is,” Josh agreed. “Or used to be.”

The radio crackled, and Martin’s voice came on. “We’ve got trouble. Drive slow and follow me.”

Up ahead, the truck slowed as a crash site came into view. A knot of cars had been involved in a pileup and now formed a wall of twisted metal and broken glass.

Logan concentrated on navigating through the mess, but it was unnerving when the first infected spotted them and closed in. Decayed faces pressed against the window next to him, leering with yellowed teeth and questing tongues. Next to him, Nadia shuddered and huddled a bit closer.

They made it through but had scarcely gone any distance at all before Logan spotted something. He reached for the radio. “Martin, come in.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got a flat.”

“Ah, shit. I thought she was feeling a bit sluggish.”

“Let’s look for an open spot and change that tire pronto.”

“Roger.”

Martin drove a few more kilometers before he halted in the middle of a four-way intersection. It was clear except for a few straggling zombies and provided an open field of fire with three possible escape routes.

“Right, we’re up. Nadia, you’re with me. Josh, stay here and provide backup with your gun. You’re the only one with a silencer.”

“Sure thing,” Josh replied as he took a position half in and half out of the Land Rover.

Logan slipped out and removed his knife from his scabbard. Nadia followed with a long screwdriver in hand, and they headed for the nearest clump of infected.

The first turned in a slow circle to face him. It was a man, and his lips peeled back from his teeth as if in a smile. Logan aimed for the eye socket and grasped the infected by one