Last Another Day (13 page)

Her head spun as she grinned up at Logan, “My hero.” She had the vague thought she was being silly and childish but didn't care.

Everything feels so strange.

He studied her face with concern, then looked at Hannah. “She's losing a lot of blood.”

“Bring her in. We need to get her stitched up.” Hannah bustled ahead, followed by Logan and Julianne. “Do you have a first aid kit? Sutures?”

“I'll get it,” Julianne cried, rushing inside.

Morgan was carried inside where the woman called Hannah set to work. Twenty minutes later she was dosed to the high heavens on drugs. She lay back with a smile while Hannah cleaned and stitched the bullet holes.

Wiping her bloody hands on a cloth, Hannah stood back. “I've done all I can. The bullet went through the flesh, missing the bone and arteries.”

“Will she be okay?” Julianne wrung her hands.

“She'll be fine,” Hannah assured. “Infection is always a danger but you've got plenty of antibiotics here."

“See, Mom? I’m great.”

Morgan looked at the small crowd surrounding her bed, gratified to see so many worried faces.

“Are the girls all right?” she asked.

“Elise has taken them under her wing. She’ll see to them,” Julianne replied.

“I’d better go see if they need any medical attention,” Hannah added, patting Morgan’s hand. “I’ll be back to check on you soon, dear.”

“What happened out there? Who shot you?” Julianne asked, a hint of anger shining through.

“It’s a long story, Mom.”

“I’ll fill them in,” Jacques interjected. He told the story to the assembled Max, Logan, and Julianne. When he’d finished, silence reigned as everybody digested the news.

“We have to go back,” Jacques said. “That girl…”

“That's for the group to decide,” Max replied.

“When?”

“Give it a day or two. Let everyone regroup first.” Max looked at Jacques. “Today could have turned out differently. One or all of you could have died.”

“I know.” Jacques hesitated, then said. “Despite the risk, I think we should go back.”

“So do I, Jacques,” Max said, his expression darkening. “So do I.”

The meeting was convened two days later, and everyone gathered in the common room. Logan studied each person crowding inside, cataloging their strengths and weaknesses. Max, their benevolent leader. Julianne, fiercely loyal towards those she considered her own. Joanna, somewhat frail and Elise, a veritable rock of good sense and stability.

There was Big Ben, a good man of solid character. Armand and Jacques, typical Afrikaner farmer boys with their strict upbringing and great sense of humor. Angie, a real firecracker. Joseph, quiet and determined to survive and build a family with his wife Tumi, who had yet to recover from the loss of her baby.

Then there were the newcomers from the pharmacy. Dave, sensible and intelligent. Hannah, a matronly woman filled with compassion. Liezel, bubbly, and outgoing. Rosa, a student who had bonded with Tumi.

The younger members and kids were sent to bed after an early supper, much to Peter and Thembiso's disgust while Michelle and Lisa elected not to attend. They were traumatized and afraid of people, especially men and stayed in their room, only visiting Morgan occasionally.

As for Morgan, she was there, bad leg propped up on a cushion. Hannah's surgery had been successful and after a day spent in bed recuperating, Morgan declared herself well and got up. Julianne tried to keep her there for longer but Morgan was stubborn and privately, Logan thought she was tired of all the fussing.

Max cleared his throat and waited for the murmurs to die down. “You all know why we're here, so let's get on with it. Morgan’s been shot and two teen girls are recovering in our home from the brutal treatment they received. Question is, what do we do about it?”

“We have to go back,” Jacques said.

“I agree,” Big Ben said.

“So do I,” Joseph added.

“You understand what will happen if we go back,” Max warned. “It’ll be a fight to the death.”

“We can't let them get away with what they've done,” Jacques protested.

“That could be our sisters, daughters or wives in there,” Joseph agreed.

“I understand how you feel but I want to make sure you fully understand the consequences,” Max insisted. “We've killed, yes. Infected, zombies, the undead. Not living people.”

“We have no choice, Max. People like that cannot be reasoned with. If we don't stop them now, they'll do worse,” Ben said. “Can you live with yourself knowing there are more girls out there being raped and tortured?”

“No, I can't,” Max sighed.

“We can't just kill them,” Rosa protested, shocked.

“Then what do you propose?” Max asked. “Leave them?”

“I don't know. Killing them just seems so barbaric.”

“People like that are barbaric,” Elise explained, “and the police no longer exist to punish them. It's up to us now.”

Rosa shook her head, uncertainty warring with disgust, “I suppose.”

“This is stupid,” Angie interjected. “Not that I give a flying fuck but why must we go back? Leave them. We can find a different home.”

“What about the other girl?” Jacques asked. “The one we left behind?”

“What about her?” Angie shrugged, “She's not one of us. I say we look out for ourselves.”

“How can you say that?” Jacques asked, outraged.

Pandemonium broke out as people fought, each shouting their opinion. Logan shook his head. This was why he preferred to live alone. People were so stupid and all this fighting was a waste of time. He noticed Morgan didn't say a word throughout though her face was hard and her eyes glittered with repressed rage.

He decided to do something before she exploded so he rolled his shoulders back and stood. “The time for convention and niceties has gone. These people are a threat and they live in our territory.” Silence reigned as everyone absorbed his words. “If we don't deal with them now, we'll have to deal with them later and then it might be on their terms. It's kill or be killed, people.”

“He's right. This could become a real problem for us later on,” Max said.

After some hesitation and another half hour of discussion, everyone had come to a conclusion. The enemy group had to be removed, even if it meant killing. Some, like Rosa, didn't fully agree but understood the necessity, at least.

Max, Joseph, Jacques and Big Ben were chosen to go. According to Jacques, there were six left in the enemy group, one of whom had been shot in the knee and was possibly dead. Max was confident it could be done with no losses on their side if they were smart. Logan elected to stay behind with Morgan.

After the meeting, people drifted off one by one, either to their beds or guard duty. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Logan headed outside to take up his shift of guard duty. Morgan was there ahead of him, determined to do her share despite being injured.

“Hey there,” she greeted. “Up for some guard duty?”

“With you? Always.”

“Don't joke.”

He climbed up the ladder on the wall then reached down a hand and hauled her up. She gave a little squeak of surprise as her feet left the air and by the time he set her down, she was blushing furiously.

“It's no joke,” he said. “You know how I feel.”

Mumbling something unintelligible, she hobbled off to the nearest guard tower. She flopped down on a chair and stretched her leg out with a muffled groan. He offered no sympathy. She wouldn't want it.

Deciding to give her some space, he made a slow circuit of the walls. The night air was cool and the silence soothing as he enjoyed the break away from humanity. Most of his adult years had been spent out in the bush, hunting, foraging and game ranging. A loner by nature, he found people tiresome. All except one.

Spying Morgan's silhouette up ahead, he grinned. Being around people had some perks at least. She was standing guard like a sentinel, her bad leg balanced on the toes and a spear in her right hand. Her hair waved in the breeze like a flag and her face was cast silver in the moonlight.

He came to a stop next to her and together they surveyed the terrain below. After a few minutes, she turned those beguiling eyes on him and smiled. “You know, I never thought it would take the end of the world to make me feel truly alive again.”

“I know what you mean.”

“There's something about being in danger and living on the edge that makes me excited, eager to meet the challenge,” Morgan added.

“I'm familiar with the feeling,” he replied. “Out in the bush, the game changes in a second. A lion can charge, a snake can strike. Life hangs in the balance. It makes a person aware.”

“I get that.”

Logan took her hand in his, entangling their fingers. “Morgan,” he said, waiting.

Morgan's lips quivered as she looked down at their hands. “I don't know if I can do this, Logan. It's too soon.”

“It's not too soon and you know it.”

“Will this last?” She looked down, lashes sweeping her cheeks. “I need to know this will last.”

“It will but once you do this, there's no going back,” he replied. “This is it, Morgan. There won't ever be another for me. Or you.”

She shuddered, understanding dawning in her eyes.

Logan knew what he was asking. He had found his woman and once he had her, he had no intention of letting her go. She either had to go all in, surrender her soul, or walk away. It would be an all-consuming relationship, one of passion and possession.

Morgan hesitated, then stood on tip-toe, offering her lips. Logan lowered his head and claimed what she gave. He was neither gentle nor hesitant. He kissed her roughly, with all the passion he possessed.

When the kiss ended, she swayed, and he pulled her close, nestled into his body. It felt right. Together they stood, neither of them speaking, watching the moon rise higher in the cobalt sky. It was a moment Logan would remember forever.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Happy,” she replied, snuggling into him.

The minutes passed and he relaxed as he breathed in Morgan's scent. A whiff of a different scent interfered with his happy moment, though. The scent of rot and decay. Death had arrived.

In his arms, Morgan stiffened as she noticed them too. “Duty calls.” Gripping her spear she hobbled over to the corner. A group of zombies clawed at the fence, pushing at the barrier with insistent groans.

“Be careful,” Logan said, eyeing her leg.

She shrugged and flashed him a grin. “I'll be fine.”

Taking up position, her spear flashed down with unerring accuracy and the point buried deep in the eye socket of the closest zombie. With a twist to scramble the brains and a yank, she ripped it free, her victim collapsing in a heap.

“See? Piece of cake.”

Logan joined her and the next few seconds passed in a blur of blood, bone and brain matter. In fact, it was going so well Logan should have known disaster loomed.

Morgan's spear flashed down and embedded itself in the cheek instead of penetrating the skull or eye socket. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't pull it free, her wounded leg not allowing for a firm foothold. The zombie, a woman with greasy blond hair, dragged her head back with a growl.

Teetering on the edge, Morgan screamed, “Logan!”

Logan raced to her side, reaching out a hand just as she tumbled over. “No!”

Morgan landed with a thump on her back, grunting as the breath left her lungs in a rush. She held on to the spear, keeping the impaled zombie at bay. The other two closed in fast.

Without thinking, Logan threw himself off the wall and onto the nearest one. Its spine crackled, the brittle bone breaking with an audible snap. Logan smashed its face into the dirt and scrambled over, trying to head off the second zombie aiming for Morgan.

He dove forward, tackling it around the waist. They crashed to the ground. The zombie thrashed wildly as it snapped at Logan. It was a lot fresher than the others, intact and possessed of herculean strength.

Logan grappled with it, rage fueling his actions. He pushed the zombie back by the neck, then swung his rifle up, bashing it on the temple. The blow glanced off. He didn't stop, bashing it over and over until a muffled pop told him the skull had collapsed.

Logan turned his head in time to avoid a spray of blood and brains in the face, catching it on the back of the head instead. Beneath him, the zombie stilled, 'unlife' leaving its body at last.

Morgan cried out in pain, grabbing his attention. His insides froze. He rushed over, too scared to look. Somehow she had kept hold of the spear with the zombie on the other end but the crippled zombie had gone after her, abandoning Logan for easier prey. She kicked at it with her good leg but it had a death grip on her foot and was levering itself higher up, biting down on her shin as it went.

Logan delivered a stunning kick to its head that would have made his old rugby coach proud, sending it flying. He ended its misery with a few decisive hits with the but of his rifle before turning back to Morgan.

She was already getting up, red-faced with anger. She kicked the legs out from underneath the remaining zombie and planted a boot on its chest. Wrenching the spear free, she delivered the killing blow.

Morgan staggered back, letting her weapon clatter to the ground.

“Fuck!” she screamed, heaving for breath.

“Your leg,” Logan said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Morgan bent down and examined her shin. Her hand came away shiny with saliva. Logan's heart dropped.

“Yuck,” she shuddered, wiping her hand on the ground before looking up at him with a half-smile. “I'll be fine. The boots. There's a reason I wear them all the time.”

“Oh, thank God. Don't ever do that again.” He slumped with relief then pointed at the wall. “Let's get back before more come. We can dispose of the bodies in the morning.”

She nodded, gulping in air. “Agreed.”

They climbed back onto the wall and Logan helped Morgan to the nearest chair where she remained for the rest of their watch. Logan patrolled the walls, left alone with his churning thoughts. If he had lost her...

From the beginning, he had planned on leaving, only staying long enough to help Max build a secure base. When Big Ben and his group arrived, Logan told himself he'd stay another week at the most. Until that day—the day they saved Morgan. The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one. She simply had to realize it too.

When Armand and Angie showed up to take over the next watch, Logan was more than ready for some alone time with his love. She leaned on him as they shuffled to her room, clearly in pain.

“Should I call Hannah?” he asked.

“No,” she huffed. “I'm fine. I just need to relax.”

“Let me have a look then.”

“It's not that bad Logan. Come on, I'm fine,” she protested.

He fixed her with a look and she shut her mouth, sticking out her leg after sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He unwound the bandage and examined the wounds. The stitches had survived the fight. It was swollen and bruised but otherwise okay. He disinfected it before wrapping it with a clean bandage then gave her the medication Hannah had prescribed. Antibiotics and painkillers.

“I'm so tired,” she moaned, flopping back on the bed.

“Let me tuck you in then,” he said.

She cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed. “Relax. I'm just gonna take your boots off.”

He eased them off followed by the socks, stopping when he saw the crescent-shaped bruises covering her shin. “That must hurt,” he said.

“Not anymore,” she giggled, winking at him.

“I see the drugs are kicking in,” he replied with wry amusement. “You've got no head for meds, you know? It makes you loopy.”

She giggled again, hooking a finger in his collar. “You make me loopy.”

He let her pull him up onto the bed, unable to resist her. She kissed him with abandon, curling her fingers in his hair. He could feel his restraint slipping and gripped her ass, pulling her to him. She moaned, swinging her leg over his hip as her fingers traveled down to his belt, fumbling with the buckle.

Logan sighed, breaking off the kiss. “I'm going to hate myself for this later but...” He pushed her away, gently but firmly. “I can't let you do this.”

She pouted. “Why?”

“Because you're all drugged up and I won't take advantage of you.”