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

Martin grinned. “Let’s go to war, little brother.”

Max and his group threw themselves into the fray with abandon. Eschewing the cumbersome spears, they used their guns to take out the zombies threatening their survival.

Each volley of shots dropped a number of the undead, a testament to the marksmanship of Martin’s group. Not to mention Logan. He’s always been an excellent shot.

Gradually the swarm of undead thinned with more dropping away by the second. Cries of triumph rose along the wall, and Max allowed himself to share a grin with Logan and Martin. “Good times, hey?”

“So where’s this Ke Tau that Breytenbach told us so much about?” Logan asked during a lull.

“Yeah, you can’t tell me this is all he’s got,” Martin added.

“I’m expecting the snake to show his hand any moment now. He’s bound to, I mean,” Max replied.

Max was proven right mere minutes later when a squad of off-road bikes wheeled onto the grounds. Each motorcycle carried a passenger armed with an automatic rifle of some sort and let rip at the walls as they flew past.

People fell to the floor as bullets peppered their surroundings. A pained cry alerted Max, and he twisted his head to see Nombali crouched on her knees with blood pumping from her shoulder.

“Peter, Thembiso,” he cried. “Get her to the infirmary now. The rest of you stay down.”

He ducked beneath another hail of bullets and reached for the radio at his side. Martin shot him a confused look. “What’s that going to help?”

Max grinned. “Kirstin. Can you take care of our little problem for us?”

The radio crackled, and Kirstin's smooth voice replied. “If I must.”

Moments later, a rifle report cracked, and a biker cartwheeled through the air to crash land spectacularly. “What the hell was that?”

“That,” Max replied as another rider was blown clean off his ride, “is my girlfriend.”

Martin whistled. “You’d better hold onto her tight, or someone just might steal her.”

Max’s face took on a funny look as a thought occurred to him. “You know what? You’re right.”

When the last bike saw its early demise, Max clicked on the radio again. “Kirstin?”

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me?”

Silence fell, and everybody around Max craned their heads to hear her reply.

“Ja,” came the simple reply in her native tongue.

“Yes,” Max crowed, fist-bumping Logan. “It’s a yes!”

People cheered as he raised the mic to his lips and said in a dignified voice, “I'm honored you accepted my proposal.”

She sighed audibly over the radio. “We have company, Max.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” He placed the radio on his belt and turned back toward the fight. This time, it was trucks with homemade armor. He pulled a grenade out of his pocket. “Up for some fireworks?”

Martin grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 20 - Michael

While Max met with Breytenbach and the strangers, Michael got himself ready for the onslaught of the undead. Like a herd of cows, they followed after the vehicles, drawn by the noise and movement that lured them forward.

They crashed against the walls in a tidal wave of rotting flesh, their stink rising above them to fill the nostrils of the defenders. They reached upward with searching hands, and their fingers scratched at the barrier until the meat fell off the bone. The sound rising from their mouths was like the humming of a beehive. It vibrated through Michael’s skull until his jaw ached.

“Right, all together now,” he shouted to those around them. “Quick and easy. Don’t get pulled over.”

He jabbed downward with his spear and slid the point into the eye socket of the nearest infected. It stiffened and fell to its feet to disappear into the roiling mess of bodies. Pulling back his arm, he repeated the maneuver over and over.

Mpho stood next to him, and her cry of triumph when she killed one, warmed his heart. Despite his protestations, she’d insisted on fighting today, and he felt proud to have her next to him.

Not far off, Elise was dealing out death and destruction on a scale he’d never have thought possible from the middle-aged mother. She was a lot tougher than he’d given her credit for. She caught his look and flashed him a smile. “Like fish in a barrel.”

“Indeed.”

He lost himself in the rhythm of killing and scarcely noticed when Kirstin came flying past to scale the steps of the tower. A minute later, Abe descended and joined him with a spear in hand.

“And now?” Michael asked. “Aren’t you one of our marksmen?”

“Was,” Abe replied with a rueful shrug. “Kirstin kicked me out. She kept Liezel, though.”

Michael snorted. “Women. Always trouble.”

“Hey,” Mpho cried in mock protest.

“Okay, fine. Some women.”

Minutes later, they were joined on the wall by Max and the newcomers, none of whom Michael knew. They were armed to the teeth and eager to fight, though, and that’s all he cared about.

The till-then sporadic gunfire grew until the sound rolled across the clearing and even cloaked the sounds of the infected. Heads exploded, and bodies jerked as the bullets cut them down. One by one, they dropped to the ground to form a carpet of writhing corpses. Most dead, but some still clinging to unholy life.

Mpho tugged at his sleeve. “We must watch for Ke Tau. He will attack soon. The dead are just the beginning.”

“I know.” Michael straightened up and brushed the sweat from his brow.

As if to bear out the truth of her words, a squad of dirt bikes raced through the open outer gates. Each rider wore full gear and carried a passenger armed with an automatic rifle. They blasted past the people on the walls and let off a volley of shots.

People hit the decks, and someone screamed, though Michael couldn't make out who. Exposed and vulnerable, the people of the camp were sitting ducks. Until Kirstin and Liezel opened fire, that is. With perfect precision, they picked off the riders until they were all down.

Ke Tau wasn't done yet, however, and sent a convoy of vehicles in next. They raced past the camp kicking up