Live Another Day (Dangerous Days - Zombie Apocalypse Book 4) Read online

  “Oh, I know. We found him toward the end, just before he turned.”

  “We?”

  “Harry and I. We made it out, both of us.”

  “You did?” Hope blossomed inside Nadia's chest.

  Donya nodded, and her features softened by a small degree. “He saved me.”

  “Where is he?” Nadia asked, looking over the other girl's shoulder.

  “He's gone.” Donya's expression hardened once more. “He died about a week ago. Zoms got him. Ripped him to pieces right in front of my eyes.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment crushed the fragile hope that had sprouted for a brief moment in Nadia's chest. “I'm sorry.”

  Donya's mouth twisted. “Because of you, I lost everything. We lost everything. He could still be alive today.”

  “Try to understand,” Nadia pleaded. “If I'd known, I never would have let it happen.”

  Donya chuckled. “Yet, here you are. Once more keeping dangerous secrets from innocent people. I can't say I'm surprised.”

  Nadia's mouth worked, but she couldn't summon up the energy to fight back, to deny the other girl's accusations. While a part of her knew Donya was unfair, another part whispered that she was right. “You'd tell them?”

  “In a heartbeat.” Donya gestured around her. “These are good people. They deserve better than you.”

  “I’d never hurt them,” Nadia whispered.

  “Nice look you've got going there, by the way. I'm getting a real wolf in sheep's clothing vibe there. Trying to fool everyone, huh?”

  Nadia sucked in a breath, and her hands curled into fists. “It's not like that.”

  Donya snorted. “Uh huh.”

  “You'll see.”

  Donya stared at her for several seconds, a bitter smile hovering on her lips. Finally, she turned away. “Well, this was nice, but I've got other business to attend to. See you later.”

  Once more, Nadia was left alone and bereft. On numb legs, she turned away and stumbled further down the hill. Her feet carried her to the edge of the dunes, and she looked for a sheltered spot to sit. She found it between a stunted tree and a weathered boulder.

  With her legs folded beneath her, she sat on the grassy knoll and stared at the surf below. The waves rolled onto the shore, the water pushing up the sand as the tide came in only to retreat again in a pattern as old as time. Never ending.

  Her fingers plucked at the grass with restless energy while her mind looped in endless circles. The guilt she'd fought so hard to bury was back in full force. It seared through her veins like battery acid. Grief for Brandon and the others burned like a bright flame inside her.

  Her past, never very far away, came tumbling back as her defenses crumbled to dust. Hot tears raced down her cheeks and dripped onto her jersey. “All my fault. It was all my fault.”

  Her hand encountered a shell, the jagged remnants of an abalone. Its pearl edges were razor sharp. Without thinking, she rolled back her sleeve and cut into the tender flesh of her forearm. The skin split like rotten fruit, precious blood spilling out onto the ground. The cut brought sweet relief as the tension flowed out of her the same way the waves flowed onto the sand. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Nadia? What are you doing?”

  Martin's sharp voice caused her to whirl. She dropped the shell onto the grass and clamped her hand across the wound. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came looking for you.”

  His tall shadow fell across her face, and she blinked up into his somber face. “Why?”

  “I spoke to Donya. She told me everything.”

  Nadia's heart sank. “She did?”

  He nodded. “She came in this morning with Josh and Dirk. They found her holed up in an old farmhouse and brought her in. She overheard Thys and I discussing the expedition, right after we welcomed her. She recognized your name and asked about you. That's when she told us everything.”

  “I see,” Nadia whispered. Now that Martin knew, she was sure he'd kick her out of St. Francis. So much for making my own decisions. Will he even let me go with them on the expedition?

  “That’s it? That's all you've got to say?”

  “No...I...does Thys knows too?”

  “He does.”

  Nadia looked down at her hands. “Then everyone knows.”

  “Not yet. I told Donya to keep her knowledge to herself for now. I don't need a widespread panic in the town.”

  “Smart.”

  “Yes. Not that you've been very clever about this whole thing.” He fixed her with a stern glare. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course, it matters. Don't avoid the question,” he commanded.

  “Because I'm a freak, okay?” she burst out. “A murderer.”

  Martin sighed. “You're not a murderer.”

  “Then what am I?”

  He gazed at her for a moment. “You're just a girl, a survivor like the rest of us.”

  She blinked, taken aback. That simple?

  “But,” he added, “you're dangerous too.“

  She dropped her chin. “I know.”

  “So you must know you can't keep secrets like that. Ever.”

  She nodded, miserable in the knowledge that he was right.

  “You cannot allow what happened before to happen again. You have a responsibility,” he said. “And you cannot endanger innocent people simply because you're afraid they'll shun you.”

  “I would never let it happen again,” she protested. “I'm careful.”

  Martin's voice took on a razor's edge. “Don't be a fool. What happens if you get hurt and someone comes into contact with your blood by mistake?”

  Nadia shook her head. “I won't...I wouldn't let them.”

  “What if some stupid boy decides to take a chance and snatches a kiss? Don't think I haven't noticed Caleb's regard for you,” he insisted. “People need to know. He needs to know.”

  When Nadia failed to respond, he gripped her by the shoulders in a gesture both sympathetic and angry. “Tell me you understand, Nadia.”

  She nodded as a single tear dripped down her cheek. “I understand.”

  He sighed and straightened up. “Good.”

  “So what now?”

  “What happens next is up to you. Logan tells me you are undecided on whether to leave or stay.”

  “I suppose.”

  “It's straightforward. If you decide to stay, you will be required to tell people the truth. They deserve honesty.”

  “Okay.”

  “The same applies if you go. You must tell the expedition party the truth.” He paused for a few seconds. “Or I will.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as the implications of his words sank in. If she stayed, she'd have to tell Caleb the truth. If she left, she'd be abandoning him. Either way, he'll hate me for it.

  “What about when we get to the other camp?”

  “I'd expect you to do the right thing.” His gaze was stern and uncompromising.

  “I don't know what the right thing is anymore,” she confessed. “I feel so lost.”

  His features softened. “You're not lost. The real Nadia is still in there. You just have to find her again.”

  “Easier said than done,” she scoffed.

  “I never said it'd be easy.” He turned and walked away, pausing only to make a final remark. “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

  Once Martin disappeared from view, Nadia turned back to watch the scene stretched out before her while she pondered his words. The truth in them was undeniable. “Nothing worth having comes easy.”

  From her vantage point, she watched the fishing boats come and go in the distance. They went about their business without a thought for the zombies that now ravished the land. Fishermen cast their nets and strung their lines beneath the burning sun as if nothing had changed. Their skin showed the wear that came with the job. Deep grooves marked the leathery tan that turned their faces into uniform masks, and s
alt crystals formed in their graying beards. Later, they would pull in their haul, the nets filled with masses of quivering silver bodies, and tonight people would feast. Bellies would be filled, and fears would be stilled.

  A rubber duck cut a diagonal line across the water, launched from the nearby harbor. It bobbed over the crested waves, cutting through the water like a knife through butter. She surmised the boat carried Adam, returning from the morning meeting to once more take up his post at the helm of the Sincerity. It was the biggest and best equipped of all the fishing boats, and he rarely left it, preferring the open waters of the ocean to the claustrophobic arms of the town.

  For a second, Nadia contemplated what it would be like to stay. To say farewell to Logan and build a life for herself here, instead. She imagined what it would be like to live there on the shores of the sea forever, perhaps joining the watch as Ada had suggested. Some, like Donya, might hate her, but maybe the others would understand.

  Maybe Caleb would, a hopeful voice whispered in her mind.

  It would be a good life. One filled with honest work, loyal friends, and security of a sort, if not love and children. That was lost to her. Perhaps, in time, she could even make peace with what she'd done.

  But she couldn’t accept it. Refused to believe it. People would hate her, or at the very least they’d fear her. She pictured them shunning her, walking circles around her in the street while mothers herded their children away in fright. It was a painful reality. What should I do?

  Nadia lifted her hand off the gash in her skin and gazed at the slit. It was open and raw, weeping blood.

  She remembered the first time she'd cut herself. It was right after Bobby drowned. They were all at his funeral, dressed in black, mourners at the graveside of a child who never had the chance to live.

  The pain at his death was unbelievable.

  Soul-crushing.

  Devastating.

  Her stupid mother wept over his little coffin as if she had a right to be sad. As if she wasn't the cause of his death. She failed him. She failed me.

  Nausea overwhelmed Nadia, and she slipped away to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror, she screamed in sudden rage. “Why? Why? Why?”

  Next moment her fist crashed into the gleaming glass. Sharp shards rained down, and fresh blood welled from her knuckles. She stared at the crimson drops, perplexed as the pain in her fist provided relief from the mental agony.

  Her hand closed over a piece, and she raised it to her skin for the first time. That was the day she became a cutter.

  It hadn't helped, though. The relief was an illusion. The only thing that had truly worked was time, distance, “...and acceptance.”

  “I’ll never be normal.” The words slipped out from between her lips and into the wind of its own volition. “I don't belong here.”

  Clarity cut through the confusion that had clouded her judgment for the longest time. This wasn't her. It had never been. Neither was the cookie-cutter image she'd adopted to convince people she was ordinary.

  “I’m not like them, and I can’t stay here. But I’m still me, still Nadia. That hasn't changed. I just lost me for a while.”

  Maybe she didn't belong anywhere, but she'd never find out as long as she kept lying to herself and everyone else. Relief flowed through her at the realization, the comfort that comes with acceptance.

  With a determined push, Nadia got to her feet. It was time to stop pretending. Time to be who she really was. She brushed stray bits of grass from her clothes and turned back toward the town. “Time to visit Marie. I'll need a few things for the journey.”

  She strode toward the line of shops that held the bulk of the town’s supplies. Each shop carried something different and was managed by a different person. The largest was run by Marie who oversaw the general store. But first, she stopped at the pharmacy.

  The doorbell dinged when she entered, and the air was warm after the brisk breeze outside. Her fingers tingled as she made her way to the counter where the pharmacist greeted her with a smile.

  “Morning, young lady. How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for a plaster.” Nadia proffered her cut arm with a rueful smile. “I’m so clumsy. I cut myself on the rocks at the beach.”

  He peered over his glasses at the smooth line and tut-tutted. “Oh, that looks painful. Here, let me fix it for you. When did you last have a Tetanus shot?”

  “Um, never.”

  He shook his head. “Well, better safe than sorry.”

  Ignoring her protests that she could do it herself, he disinfected and taped up the wound, but only after subjecting her to the painful shot. He then handed her a leaf of painkillers.

  “Thank you,” Nadia said as she headed back out.

  “Keep it dry and clean, and it should heal without problems. If you see any signs of infection, however, you need to come right back.”

  “Will do.”

  She stepped out into the cool air and made her way to the general shop. It smelled of incense and mint, a product of the incense burner Marie was so fond of and the bowl of sweets she doled out to the kids.

  After a warm greeting, Nadia browsed among the racks for what she needed. The store was large, the aisles overflowing with items. One half was dedicated to food and led to more storerooms in the back. This was strictly rationed.

  After lengthy deliberation, Nadia chose a bottle of water, a packet of electrolytes, and a handful of protein bars. While the expedition would have food, she liked being prepared. “Are these okay, Marie? Not too much?”

  “It’s fine, Nadia. Excited about leaving tomorrow?”

  “I guess.”

  “I’ll be sad to see you go, though.” Marie’s kind eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “I’ll miss you too,” Nadia said, realizing it was the truth.

  “Anything else you need while you’re here?”

  “Could I have some clothes, please? I’ll send my other things back after washing them tonight.”

  “Sure, help yourself, honey.”

  There was an unspoken rule among the inhabitants that you only took what was needed, and if you no longer wanted something, you returned it. Other than that, the stores were open to everyone.

  “Looking for something specific, hun?” Marie asked after Nadia went through half the available stuff.

  “Kind of. I’ll know when I see it,” Nadia replied with a smile.

  After several minutes of searching, she emerged with two pairs of sturdy jeans, socks, sports underwear, a couple of tank tops, and a beautiful leather jacket and belt.

  She completed the selection with a long screwdriver, a small hatchet, black eyeliner which she found in a bin full of dusty makeup, and a box which caused Marie to raise an eyebrow.

  “This color, hun? You’re sure about that?”

  “I’m sure, thanks, Marie.” Nadia looked around. “Have you got any earrings? You know like studs and so on.”

  “Well, I don’t know, I think so.” Marie rummaged around underneath the counter before coming up with a wrinkled box. “There’s a few costume jewelry things in there. Have a look.”

  Nadia picked out a few items before the quizzical gaze of Marie. “That should do it. Thank you so much for everything. I'll never forget it.”

  Marie's eyes shone with unshed tears. “It's all right, honey. Now run along before I break down and cry.”

  Nadia left and walked back to the house she shared Logan, carrying her latest acquisitions in her arms. Along the way, a huge grin broke out on her face. It felt good to be back. “Time for a change.”

  Chapter 8 - Logan

  Logan got up early, as he usually did, and had a long hot shower. He lingered under the stream of water, knowing full well it might be the last one he got in a long time. Unlike some of the town residents, he knew what lay outside the walls, and it was not pretty.

  After brushing his teeth, he got dressed in what he termed his field clothes. It was a basic combo of jeans, jacket, t-shi
rt, and boots coupled with a knife and gun that rode on his hips in their holsters.

  He tossed the remainder of his belongings into a backpack, pocketed the keys to his Land Rover, and slung his rifle across his back. That concluded his preparations for the trip, and he made his way to the kitchen.

  To his surprise, Nadia was already there, which did not happen often. At the sight of her, he froze in his tracks. “Nadia? Is that you?”

  She looked up from her steaming cup of coffee and winked. “Yup.”

  Her blonde hair had been colored a deep purple-black, and the vivid aquamarine shade of her eyes was shocking against the dark backdrop. They were further enhanced by black eyeliner and mascara.

  To top it off, she wore her old biker boots over jeans, a hot pink tank top with a leather jacket, and once more sported an assortment of hardware. Though her face was bare besides a stud in her nose and a ring in her eyebrow, she wore several chunky rings on her fingers, and her usual cross hung on its chain around her neck.

  “I can’t believe it.” He plonked his ass down on a chair and took the cup she offered. “You’re back.”

  “You bet I am.” She turned her head this way and that. “Do you like it?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “No more whining and complaining about people not liking you?”

  “No more bitching,” she agreed.

  “Is the kick my ass, take no shit from anybody attitude back?”

  “Pretty much,” she said with a wicked grin.

  “Then I like.”

  “Good. Now eat your food so we can get a move on.” She indicated a plate of sliced ham, the canned variety, over a bed of savory porridge.

  “Thanks.” He picked up his fork and dug in. “Have you already eaten?”

  “Done and dusted. I just want to get going.”

  “I’ll hurry,” he said.

  “Just don’t choke and die on me.”

  He snorted. “Not likely.”