by Anna Abner
The End
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Grandma Abner’s Apocalypse Bread
Pretend it’s the zombie apocalypse and you have only enough electricity in the generator to power the oven. The fresh milk and eggs have been substituted for dehydrated powder.
Ingredients
2 tablespoons yeast
2/3 cup dry milk with 2 cups water (or the equivalent to 2 cups milk)
4 tablespoons egg crystals with 6 tablespoons water (or the equivalent to 2 eggs)
½ cup warm water
8 tablespoons shortening
7 cups flour
6 tablespoons white sugar
2 teaspoons salt
Directions
Step One: Mix wet ingredients in a bowl with a spoon. Add shortening.
Step Two: Slowly add flour and dry ingredients. Mix well.
Step Three: Knead dough by hand until mixed and soft. Sprinkle extra flour on hands and counter as you knead.
Step Four: Raise the dough in a bowl (covered with a cloth) at room temperature for one hour.
Step Five: Grease inside of 13x9 glass baking dish with shortening.
Step Six: Knead dough again by hand until soft.
Step Seven: Separate dough into about 16 balls and roll smooth by hand, arranging them in greased dish.
Step Eight: Raise the dough in the dish (covered with a cloth) for another hour at room temperature.
Step Nine: Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.
Can be eaten warm or cold. Wrap them up and stuff them into your backpack before you set out on the open road to find other survivors.
**When I was writing the Red Plague Trilogy I wanted the survivors to make a food item that was both a little unusual but also reminiscent of home. This is a family recipe that can be found in a 1977 church cookbook of recipes handed down for generations.
Continue the Red Plague series with the novella, Remedy
Chapter One
Roman Duran jogged a step behind Jackson Schultz and saw the moment the other man faltered on his wounded leg, careening into a chain link fence. Without missing a step, Roman ducked under Jackson’s arm and forced him forward along the garbage-strewn sidewalk. The pack of infecteds was only two or, at the most, three blocks behind.
“Here,” Pollard Datsik, the third member of their trio, called. He slipped around a block wall and sprinted up a set of exterior stairs to an apartment above a liquor store. Roman dragged Jackson behind him.
While Roman helped Jackson to a sagging sofa, Pollard shut the door with a quiet click and peered through the window, his breath a puff in the silence.
“Are they following?” Roman whispered. “Are they swarming the stairs?”
Pollard stretched his neck to see further, and then soft-stepped to the next window and stared at the street below.
“I’m fine,” Jackson murmured unnecessarily. “I tripped. It won’t happen again.” He shoved Roman away. “I just need a couple minutes.”
Roman didn’t buy it. The injury in question was a jagged slash above Jackson’s knee he’d earned climbing a fence the night before. Though they’d stopped running long enough to wrap it, Jackson wasn’t as energetic as he’d been before the wound.
Separating from Jackson, Roman peered through a broken windowpane, blinking away the exhaustion that had dogged him for the past couple of days. Without enjoyment, he chewed one of their last handfuls of goldfish crackers, the food dry and pasty in his mouth. Water was about to become a serious issue.
“I’m so thirsty,” he complained in a whisper. “And dirty.” What he wouldn’t do for a clean, clear stream of fresh water.
Roman glanced at his companions, noting their equally stained and stinking uniforms. Maybe volunteering to leave Washington, DC had been a crappy decision all around. Maybe the veep should have sent older, more experienced survivors on her search and rescue mission. Maybe his eighteen years on the earth weren’t enough for this kind of assignment.
A pack of infecteds had caught their scent in Raleigh and hadn’t let go. Forty-eight hours without sleep or rest. Two days of running, of hiding, of trying to lose the predators. And now, they were out of food and water.
“What if we climb on the roof?” Roman whispered. “We could wait them out.”
Pollard seized the bag of crackers from him and crammed a handful into his mouth.
“We’re out of water,” Jackson reminded them. “What if they trap us for days? No.” He shook his head at the room’s closed door. “We could end up a lot worse than we are now. I say we keep running.”
“Forever?” Pollard scoffed. “There has to be a point where we say we can’t continue like this. A point where we circle around the pack and head home.”
Roman wouldn’t call Washington, DC home. But then he’d never called anywhere home. An orphan kicked into the system after his mother abandoned him, none of the dozen foster and group homes he’d lived in had ever been his home. And DC was no different. It was a way station to somewhere else, no matter whether he had an apartment or a job or a purpose. It still wasn’t home.
Roman had yet to find his real home.
Swallowing dry crackers, Roman double-checked the number of rounds for his M-16. When they’d left the safety of DC’s walls, they each carried forty rounds for their personal firearms. It had sounded like a lot at the time, but he was down to nineteen rounds. The other two men had less.
For an entire day, Jackson had fired warning shots at their pursuers—a mistake, Roman realized now—but the only result had been bringing even more infecteds into the pack, as nearby stragglers were attracted by the noise.
His ears perking up, Roman rushed to the far window and scanned for movement. Was he crazy, or did he hear a car engine?
Roman had left DC wanting to help people, both infecteds and survivors. After running into people, one worse than the last, his companions were nearly to the point of abandoning the mission. But Roman hadn’t given up. Even though they hadn’t helped a single person.
The sound of the Range Rover’s engine quieted as it drove out of sight.
“Let’s try the distraction method again,” Roman suggested. The last time they’d thrown empty cans near the zombies, they’d been curious enough for Roman and the other two men to escape. “It worked before.”
Their rescue mission to Myrtle Beach could still be salvaged once they shook this pack. Unhindered by the starving horde of infecteds, the three men could scavenge for food and water, sleep safely in shifts, and cover ground at an easy pace. This running for their lives, though, couldn’t go on forever. Without water and more substantial food than goldfish crackers, he wasn’t going to survive much longer.
“I’ll open fire,” Pollard said, as if Roman hadn’t spoken, “and you two run for the cell tower at the end of the street. I’ll meet you there.”
“Good plan,” Jackson said, “except you’re a horrible shot. I’ll do the shooting, thanks.” He stood, trying to hide a wince of pain but failing.
Pollard clenched his jaw at the insult. “Fine.” He grabbed Roman by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
“You sure about this?” Roman asked, still thinking his idea would work better than wasting more bullets and hoping to find each other under a tower.
“Just run fast,” Pollard said.
Download Remedy today!
About the Author
Anna Abner lived in a haunted house for three years and grew up talking to imaginary friends. She married a tall, dark, and handsome United States Marine—her real life romance hero. Currently, she writes edge-of-your-seat paranormal romances and blogs about ghosts and magic from her desert hideaway in sunny southern California.
Her series include the Red Plague, Dark Casters, and Beasts of Vegas. Anna also writes fan fiction for ArchiveOfOurOwn.org as well as short, sexy LGBTQ stories set in high school under the pen name Sadie West.
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Other Works By Anna Abner
Novels
Spell of Summoning (Dark Caster Series #1)
Spell of Binding (Dark Caster Series #2)
Spell of Vanishing (Dark Caster Series #3)
Spell of Shattering (Dark Caster Series #4)
The Dark Caster Boxed Set
Elixir (Red Plague Trilogy #1)
Antidote (Red Plague Trilogy #2)
Panacea (Red Plague Trilogy #3)
The Red Plague Boxed Set
Remedy (A Red Plague Novella)
Shopgirl’s Prophecy (Beasts of Vegas #1)
Spellspeaker’s Prophecy (Beasts of Vegas #2)
Blooddrinker’s Prophecy (Beasts of Vegas #3)
Shapeshifter’s Prophecy (Beasts of Vegas #4)—Coming Soon!
Novellas and Short Fiction
Won’t Get Fooled Again
“The Night Trevor’s Soul Came Loose”
“Shadow Cells”
Sexy, M/M Short Stories By Anna Abner Writing As Sadie West
“Driving the Lane”
“Odd-Man Out”
“Extreme Whiteout”
Fan fiction available at ArchiveOfOurOwn.org
