by Kate L. Mary
More Than Survival
A Zombie Apocalypse Love Story
Kate L. Mary
Published by Twisted Press, LLC, an independently owned company.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Kate L. Mary
Cover art by Kate L. Mary
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permissions contact: [email protected]
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Also by Kate L. Mary
About the Author
Prologue
Eleven Years Ago…
Lucy
Even with the flashlight I had to squint to see the words on the page, but I just scrunched my face up more until they rippled into focus. After all, Junie B. Jones’ latest adventure was the only thing keeping me from thinking about what was going on around me.
When a knock echoed through the house, my head jerked up. My hands tightened on the book and the paper crinkled as I stared at the door. I didn’t know what to do. It was late and I wasn’t allowed to answer the door, but there was nobody else around to do. Daddy was already gone and now Mama was too sick to get out of bed. But if someone was at the door, it had to be important.
I hadn’t seen anyone else in over a week. Every time I looked out the window, the streets in our neighborhood were empty. It scared me. I was pretty sure most of our neighbors were dead, just like Daddy. Sometimes, I wondered if Mama and I were the only two people left alive in the whole world.
The knock came again, this time louder, and deep in my chest, my heart did a little pitter-patter. Still, I didn’t move, and the beam of the flashlight jiggled across the page in front of me when my hand started to shake.
“Lucy,” Mama called from the bedroom, her voice rattling from her body like she was having a hard time getting the words out. “Answer the door.”
My legs were shaking when I stood, but I headed toward the door anyway. My palm was moist against the flashlight and I had to wipe my other hand on my pants before turning the knob. I only opened the door a crack though, then shone the light up so I could see who it was. My uncle covered his eyes as he muttered a word that I knew I wasn’t allowed to say.
Seeing him standing on the other side of the door made reality come crashing down on me like one of those cartoons where a piano got dropped on someone’s head. Uncle Seamus never left his house. For as long as I could remember I’d heard Daddy laugh at Mama’s older brother. Daddy had called my uncle nuts and paranoid, and lots of other names I never understood.
Maybe Daddy had been wrong.
When I lowered the flashlight Uncle Seamus dropped his hand to his side, and I could just see his smile through the scraggily gray beard that took up most of his face. “Hello there, girl. Your mama called me. Said I needed to come right over.”
I swallowed but couldn’t form any words. When I pulled the door open the rest of the way, my uncle stepped inside. Next to him I felt tiny. Seamus had always seemed large and intimidating to me. He was big and quiet, and hearing Daddy talk about how crazy he was hadn’t made me feel any better about him. Still, kindness sparkled in his gray eyes when he looked down at me, and I couldn’t help wondering if I needed to be afraid of this man.
Seamus shut the door, locking it behind him before kneeling in front of me. He pulled the black stocking cap off his head, and the salt and pepper hair that sprang free matched his scraggily beard perfectly. He brushed it back and I found myself mesmerized by it. I’d never met another man who had long hair, and my uncle’s hung an inch past his chin, almost touching his shoulders. Didn’t he have the money to get his hair cut?
“Mama’s sick,” I whispered, unsure of what else to say.
Seamus nodded slowly, then let out a big sigh. Under his red flannel shirt he had a gut that always made me think of Santa Clause, and even though he was no longer smiling, that thought and the warmth in his eyes helped ease a little more of my fear. My uncle would know what to do. Mama wouldn’t die like Daddy had.
“Shoulda checked earlier. With the power out, I been busy getting things ready. Thought your mama would call me if things got too bad.” He shook his head like he was disappointed in her, then stood. “Least I gave her that long-range walkie. Don’t know what she woulda done otherwise.” He headed for the bedroom, motioning for me to follow. “Come on now, let’s get on with this.”
I followed, my legs shaky and weak. The flashlight was still in my hand and I watched the beam bob as I walked. Like Junie, it helped keep my mind off the fact that Daddy was dead. Helped me think about something other than Mama being sick with the same thing.
Mama was in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin like she was freezing, and she turned her head when Uncle Seamus and I walked into her room. Even at the young age of nine I knew the gray color of her skin couldn’t be good. She held her hand out like she wanted my uncle to take it, but the movement was slow and weak. Her dark hair was stuck to her head from sweat, and even though her skin was pale, her cheeks were red with fever. She didn’t look like Mama anymore.
“You came,” she whispered. “I knew you would.”
Uncle Seamus sat on the bed next to Mama and took her thin hand in his. “Always wanted to be able to say I told you so, Sue, but I never expected to be so unhappy about it.”
Mama coughed, putting her free hand to her mouth. When she pulled it away her palm was painted red. She looked toward me, then back toward her brother. The tears shimmering in her eyes were so thick I couldn’t figure out how they didn’t spill over.
“Promise me you’ll take care of her.” Mama’s words were so quiet I could hardly hear them.
When Uncle Seamus looked my way his mouth was set in a hard line, and it hit me like a train what Mama was saying. She was going to die, just like Daddy had, and I was going to live with my uncle from now on.
Seamus turned his gray eyes back to Mama and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve only loved two people in this whole, shitty world. You and that little girl over there. You know I’ll watch out for her. Take care of her like she’s my very own.”
Mama nodded once before letting out a deep breath, and her whole body seemed to shrink in that second. It was like she’d been holding on for this moment, and now that she knew I was going to be okay she was ready to leave.
“Thank you.” The words rasped out of her.
Uncle Seamus stood and motioned for me to go to Mama. “Come on over here and say goodbye to your mom, girl. She’s not gonna be around much longer.”
I started to cry and my heart felt like it was on the verge of cracking in two, but I did what my uncle told me to. When I sat on the bed, Mama put her bony arms around me, but she was so weak it felt like feathers were hugging me. It didn’t feel like Mama. Not the woman who had carried me when I was sick or swung me around the park as we sang London Bridges. Not the p
erson who had always been here to take care of me.
She pulled back and held my face between her hands, forcing me to look her in the eye as her hot skin burned my cheeks. “Lucy, I want you to listen to your uncle. He loves you and he’ll do what’s best. He knows what will keep you safe. Things are going to be different now. A lot of people have died, and the world is going to change. Uncle Seamus is ready for it. He’s been preparing for years, and he’ll be able to take care of you.”
I nodded as tears filled my eyes, and Mama kissed me on the forehead. Her lips were dry and cracked and felt like sandpaper. So foreign. Nothing like the kisses she’d given me over the years.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Before I’d even had a chance to say it back her hands fell away and she slumped onto the bed, taking in a deep, raspy breath. My tiny body trembled as I watched her chest rise slowly, then fall. Once. Twice. On the third time, the breath she took seemed to hurt. Her whole face scrunched up and she squeezed her eyes shut. Then her expression relaxed and one last breath eased from her lungs as her body went slack. Then nothing.
Sobs ripped their way out of me as tears streamed down my face. Uncle Seamus put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and I wasn’t sure because my own sobs were loud, but I thought I heard him whisper a prayer.
“She’s better this way, darling. It was hurting her to hold on like she was, and even though I know it’s hard to accept, she needed to let go. She knew I’d take care of you, and I will. I promise. If you and me live through this mess the government has gotten us into, we will be good for years. I have enough food and supplies to keep us going. To keep us strong ‘til all this gets sorted out.”
He grunted, then grabbed my elbow and gently pulled me to my feet. “We gotta get packed up, though. Get moving before all hell breaks loose. The dead are all over the city, and most of the survivors that have ventured out are looting. We’re too close to the city where we are. The population is too big. My cabin will be safer.”
I didn’t want to leave Mama, but I’d promised her that I would listen to Uncle Seamus. So I followed him into my room where he pulled out a suitcase. He plopped it on the bed and threw it open, motioning toward it.
“Get what you need. Toys. Books. I don’t have none of that stuff at my place.” He grabbed the picture off my bedside table and set it in the suitcase with a grunt. The one of my parents and me. “Take this. You’ll want to remember them. I doubt we’ll ever come back.”
I did as I was told, grabbing things and filling my bag with the items that were the most important to me while he packed my clothes. Then he took my hand and led me to the front door. I did my best to memorize everything about the house as we walked through it—The little nook behind Daddy’s recliner where I liked to hide with my dolls and Mama’s piano in the corner where she sang me songs in the evening before I went to bed—but my uncle moved too fast and there was so little time to take it all in, especially with the tears in my eyes. As he opened the door I blinked them away, then gave the house one last desperate look. I knew I was leaving my normal life behind, and the future was so uncertain and terrifying I didn’t know how to handle it.
“It will all be okay,” Uncle Seamus said as he led me out into the dark night. “You’ll be with me.”
I held his hand tighter and kept moving, trying to believe him but finding it almost impossible. How could the future be okay with Daddy and Mama gone? How could I go on knowing I would never see them again?
It all looked so dark and gray that I couldn’t believe I’d ever be happy again.
Chapter 1
LUCY
My stomach growled but I snuggled deeper under my quilt, pulling it over my head. Winter was in full-force and the cabin was much too cold in the mornings, but my blankets were soft and warm. All my work would have to wait because I was not ready to get out of bed yet.
“Lucy!” My uncle’s voice boomed through the small cabin, so deep it practically shook the walls. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”
There had been a time when Seamus intimidated me, but not anymore. After all these years of living with him, I knew he was all bark and no bite.
At the mention of food, my stomach rumbled once again and I let out an annoyed sigh. I was too hungry to ignore it any longer. I shoved the quilt off, ignoring the shiver that shook my body as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. The second my bare toes touched the wood floor another shiver ran up my legs and over my body, leaving goose bumps behind on every inch of my skin.
“Brrr.”
I grabbed the small throw off the foot of my bed and wrapped it around my shoulders as I hurried from the room, shoving my dark waves out of my face in the process.
Uncle Seamus was hovering in front of the crackling fire when I stepped into the other room. He turned at the sound of my footsteps, his gray eyes twinkling, and let out a chuckle.
“Cold?” he asked, grinning.
I nodded as I plopped into my favorite overstuffed chair. It was worn and the fabric was a burgundy plaid print that probably hadn’t been pretty even when it was brand new, but it was broken in and the groove fit perfectly against my backside when I snuggled into the cushion. It also helped that it was positioned directly in front of the fire.
“If only we had a fireplace in every room.” I tucked my legs under my body before leaning forward and rubbing my hands together in front of the flames.
“That’s why we have blankets,” my uncle said.
He headed into the other room, shaking his head like he thought I was ridiculous. I knew better, though. Only a few seconds later he came back out carrying my breakfast—he knew I wouldn’t sit at the small table in the kitchen when it was so stinking cold—and just like I thought, he was grinning.
I took the plate from his outstretched hand, my nose wrinkling in disgust at the dry toast and pile of eggs. They weren’t the good kind. After eleven years I was used to a lot of things, but nothing could replace real eggs.
“Powdered?” I asked, looking up at my uncle with my eyebrows raised.
He shoved a forkful of the imitation eggs into his mouth and I could just make out his smile through his scraggly gray beard. It was shaggier than it had been eleven years ago, and grayer—just like his long hair. Back then, he’d had more of a salt-and-pepper look to his locks, but time had changed that. Slowly over the last eleven years the dark brown had faded away until the color of his hair was almost the same shade as the ash left behind by the fire.
“All we got left,” Seamus said when he’d swallowed his food. “Got to make a run into town.”
The mouthful of eggs didn’t block out his words, and I perked up, my fork forgotten halfway to my mouth.
Town. Just hearing the word made my body tingle with excitement, and the idea of leaving the cabin and exploring the outside world was better than any story I could find inside the pages of a book.
“Can I go this time?” I pressed my lips together and waited, holding my breath. Without thinking, I crossed my fingers. “It’s cold enough that the dead have probably frozen, so it shouldn’t be too dangerous.”
Uncle Seamus frowned as his gray eyes swept over me. The hair on my scalp prickled and I shuffled awkwardly in my chair even though I knew what he was thinking. It was the same look he always gave me when I asked about going into town with him. Which meant I was about to get the same answer.
“I’m sorry, Lucy, but I just can’t let that happen. You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, and I promised your mom I’d take care of you. These days there are two things you keep hidden when you go out to trade: Your supplies, and your women.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but pressed my lips together when his eyebrow jerked up. Mom’s final words went through my head, and I found myself nodding. Eleven years had passed, but I still couldn’t bring myself to disobey my uncle. Sure I’d had moments when I’d thrown a childish tantrum, but for the most part I’d been the perfect child. Doing what m
y uncle told me to do was my way of honoring Mom’s memory. She’d used one of the last breaths she’d taken to tell me to listen to my uncle, and I had taken that to heart. Uncle Seamus is ready for it. He’s been preparing for years, and he’ll be able to take care of you. She’d been right, too. The world may have gone crazy, but Seamus had kept me safe.
“Okay.” The word came out as a sigh, but my uncle still smiled.
He took one last bite of eggs before swallowing the last of the watered-down tea in his mug. When he got to his feet, he left his plate on the end table. “I better get a move on if I want to be back before dark. Need to feed the animals real quick, then get Max saddled up.”
Seamus headed outside as I pouted into my tasteless eggs. Even though I’d agreed without a fight, I still didn’t think it was fair that I never got to leave the cabin. For the last eleven years Uncle Seamus and I had hunkered down, waiting for the dead to disappear and the country to rebuild itself. With the way things were going, I was starting to think it was never going to happen.
Even though he hadn’t said it out loud, I knew that my uncle thought the same thing. Of course, he was a prepper, a conspiracy theorist by nature, so it made sense that he was skeptical.
We never did find out exactly where the virus came from—at least I didn’t. I was young and I hadn’t paid much attention. Uncle Seamus told me what he knew, which wasn’t much. The virus started in New York and spread slowly at first. The government put the infected areas on lockdown, hoping to stop the spread. It didn’t happen though, and soon we were under martial law. Nothing they did could stop it though, and the virus spread faster than wildfire, sweeping across our country and destroying almost everything in sight. Only it didn’t stop there. A virus knows no borders, and soon it was up in Canada, down in Mexico. Over in Europe and Asia and Africa. Soon, the world we had known was gone. Nearly ninety percent of the population—at least according to Seamus.
