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

been in their previous lives. It was a bad habit for it made it that much harder to kill them, yet he didn't ever want to forget that they used to be people either, and so, he looked. Now, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell.

Months had passed since that day, the day the zombie apocalypse arrived. Months during which the weather had done its work, combined with various other factors too, not least of them being wear and tear caused by their continual roaming.

For that was one thing they'd learned. Unless trapped inside a house or vehicle, the infected kept moving. They never stopped in their search for prey. Dr. Lange said it was the virus. That it compelled them to propagate the spread and to keep the host alive.

Whether this was true or not, Max wondered if there'd ever dawn a day without zombies again. A day when the last one died, and humanity was free to leave its high walls behind. He'd do anything to see such a day, if only for the children's sake.

The wind whipped around his collar and swirled the stink of the bodies on the stretcher up his nose. He sneezed and glanced upward. It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was overcast. The sun hid behind a thick blanket of clouds, and the stiff breeze cut through the bare branches of the trees. With each passing minute, the light dimmed until it resembled a time closer to dusk than noon.

“We'd better hurry back,” Max said. “It looks like a storm's brewing.”

“Good idea,” Joseph replied. “Tumi will be frightened. She hates bad weather.”

“Right. Let's move then.” Max took a firm grip on one handle of the stretcher while Joseph managed the other.

Together they sped across the last stretch of the open ground until they reached the gates. Here they paused while Abe and Nick opened for them. They trudged through with their burden and prepared to continue onward.

“Everything clear?” Abe asked.

“All good,” Max replied. “The fence is in good shape, and the moat is empty for now.”

“Happy to hear that.”

“When will your shifts be over?”

“In an hour or so,” Abe said with a grin. He moved with the agility of a monkey, and his smile was infectious which prompted a likewise response from Max.

“Not too long,” Max said. He smiled at the more serious Nick as well and received a sober nod in return. “Great. See you guys at supper then?”

“Wouldn't miss it.”

Max and Joseph continued on their way, their route taking them to the field where they burned all infected bodies. It was in the furthest corner of the land they occupied, the ground scorched and blackened. Soot clung to their boot soles, and a shallow trench contained bits and pieces of unburned bones, teeth, and even jewelry. Sad remnants of lives claimed by the virus.

A stack of firewood stood to the side along with matches and a canister of fuel. Joseph started the fire while Max unloaded the bodies and put them in a pile. Doused with petrol, the infected burned strongly. The flames raced along their rotted limbs and through their hair, the smoke billowing through the branches of the large trees that stood watch over the pyre. The evergreen boughs served a purpose, though. Their leaves thinned the smoke until only a faint smudge remained in the sky above. Camouflage.

Max rolled his head across his shoulders to ease a spasm that had hold of the muscles. Clearing his throat, he uttered a brief prayer for the undead, wishing them well in the next life. Once finished, he began the trek home behind Joseph with neither of them saying a word. They'd go back the next day to dispose of the remnants.

The walls of the inner camp came into view soon after, much to his relief. He longed for nothing more than a hot bath and a warm plate of food, though it was unlikely he'd get either.

Kirstin met him at the gate and placed a cool kiss on his cheek. Her hand was warm, however, when she wound her fingers through his. As ever when he gazed into her eyes, he felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a feeling that all was right with the world. It was a sensation he hoped would never grow less with time.

“How did the inspection go?” she asked.

“It went well.” Max shot a grin at Joseph. The man stood with his arms around his wife blowing air kisses at the infant in her arms. “Joseph and his team did an amazing job on the fence line.”

“Yes, we did,” Joseph agreed.

“So modest,” Max joked.

“Modesty is for fools and insecure idiots,” Joseph replied.

“I am happy to hear all is well,” Kirstin said before studying him with a critical look. “You look tired. Why do you not have some rest?”

“No time. I need to speak to Breytenbach.” Max looked around for any signs of the Captain.

“It can wait. First, you must rest.”

“I can't sleep now,” he protested. “There's too much to do.”

“So much that you cannot even wash and eat?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“Max, do not make me make you,” she replied in a firm tone. “Go home and wash. Rest.” Kirstin gave him a little push in the direction of their bungalow. “I will bring you food.”

He resisted. “Not yet. I will go later.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she enunciated each word separately. “Go. Wash. Now.”

“Why?” he asked, plucking at his shirt. “I'm fine.”

“You stink.”

“What? I do not!” He took a surreptitious whiff of his armpit and wrinkled his nose as a sour smell hit them. “Okay, maybe I do.”

“You smell very much. Ever since the water rationing started, you have not bathed once.” She pinned him to the spot with a glare.

“We have to save water, and I've got to set an example,” he protested after making sure no one else could overhear.

“I know, but I'm sure we can spare a little bit.” She waved him off. “Go. For all our sakes.”

“Fine,