Copyright © 2019 Paul Carberry
NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING AND RECORDING, OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE OR RETRIEVAL SYSTEM WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR, EXCEPT FOR BRIEF PASSAGES QUOTED IN A REVIEW.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by:
Engen Books
www.engenbooks.com
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First mass market paperback printing: September 2019
Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-989473-14-6
Table of Contents
ZOMBIES ON THE ROCK BOOK 3: THE REPUBLIC OF NEWFOUNDLAND by PAUL CARBERRY
CHAPTER ONE: THE END
CHAPTER TWO: HOW THE END BEGAN
CHAPTER THREE: BLIND
CHAPTER FOUR: HOPE
CHAPTER FIVE: FATAL DECISION
CHAPTER SIX: TIL DEATH DO US PART
CHAPTER SEVEN: REGRET
CHAPTER EIGHT: UNDERCOVER
CHAPTER NINE: THE ONLY OPTION
CHAPTER TEN: PLAN
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE FALLEN
CHAPTER TWELVE: LIES
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: RUNNING
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: CHANCE ENCOUNTER
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: REBUILT
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ESCAPE
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: A NEW PLAN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: UPSTAIRS
CHAPTER NINETEEN: DIGGING
CHAPTER TWENTY: THE MISSION
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THROUGH THE SNOW
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: AMMO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: GOODBYE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: HERD
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: CABIN IN THE WOODS
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE LONELY ROAD
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE BEGINNING
Bio: Paul Carberry
MORE TITLES FROM ENGEN BOOKS
ZOMBIES ON THE ROCK BOOK 3: THE REPUBLIC OF NEWFOUNDLAND
by PAUL CARBERRY
The Zombie hordes created by the evil Pharmakon company have taken over the entire world, leaving only small pockets of human civilization remaining. One such pocket is the quiet island of Newfoundland: previously thought to be an unlikely place from which to build a republic, but ideal in its solitude and remoteness for fending off the increasingly agile Pharmakon Zombies. In this gore-filled third volume, Eric and Dana must find a way to protect their small pocket of human resistance from the unstoppable waves of the undead to make their small island the new Republic of Newfoundland.
CHAPTER ONE:
THE END
Eric stumbled forward through the deep snow on the outskirts of town. The raging wind whipped the snow in a vortex all around him, making it near impossible to stay focused. Every single muscle in his legs started convulsing all at once, painful knots forming and the stiffness restricting his movement. His body was deprived of oxygen and his lungs burned from exhaustion; every breath was laboured. His mind was muddled, and every noise drilled deeper making it harder to concentrate. Gunfire erupted all around him as the all out war in Grand Falls continued to rage on just ahead.
Warrant Smith’s plan had been going smoothly until the agents from Pharmakon had shown up unexpectedly and thrown a wrench into it, hitting them hard. Eric didn’t know if it was a planned ambush or if they had been drawn to the area by all the commotion but they were better equipped to fight a war than the army. The events of the last two days should have taught Eric nothing ever goes as planned. Every detail and trap that had been put into place were rendered ineffective. They had been prepared to fight the Highway Hangmen once their bullets had run out fighting off the army of dead that had been lured into Grand Falls. This would have been all over except David Steele and a group of soldiers arrived, prepared and equipped to wage war against the Republic of Newfoundland.
Eric’s head pounded fiercely, and bright spots floated in the air clouding his vision even when he closed his eyes. The stars burning into his sight stood out in stark contrast to the darkness that enclosed the woods around him, the storm clouds doing their best to block out what little light the moon offered.
A powerful gust of wind caught Eric off guard and knocked him down into the freshly fallen snow, sending a burst of the light powder into the whirling cyclone. Eric strained his neck to lift his face out of the snow, but holding his head put a cumbersome strain on his spine. The terrible burden that he carried with him was just as crushing as his physical fatigue. His muscles seemed to be rejecting the impulses sent from his brain, and his actions were becoming clumsier with every passing moment. Through his convoluted vision he could see drops of crimson dripping from his broken nose into the snowfall. The taste of copper soiled his mouth as blood ran down the back of his throat, but Eric knew he had to keep pushing forward. The war wasn’t over yet and he couldn’t let this all be for nothing, he had lost too much already to give up now. Eric had seen so much unnecessary blood spilled but what bothered him even more was how much of that precious fluid he had been responsible for. He had shed the blood of people he had thought were evil, but had done so at the cost of his loved ones’ lives.
Pushing himself back up sent a searing pain into his abdomen, the warmth in his stomach nauseating. He could feel the hot fluids in his stomach eating away at the lining. Eric couldn’t stop himself from throwing up, and when he wiped away the puke with a bloodied sleeve, a trickle of warm blood oozed from an open wound. Steam billowed from his body; he felt like his blood was boiling as it flowed through his veins.
A vivid flash in his mind of his recently lost loved one kept him pushing forward. Leaning against a tree, Eric tried to catch his breath. His vision was quickly fading away into obscurity. Eric knew that time was quickly running out, but he couldn’t risk making another mistake. His reckless actions had already been met with severe consequences, he couldn’t bear any further loss.
More enemies than he could count stood in his way, both the living and the dead. They fought against him and with each other, the grim reaper was collecting souls without prejudice. His only allies belonged to the newly formed Republic of Newfoundland which consisted of the military and the few remaining Newfoundlanders who wanted to fight against the oppression of the Highway Hangman. They were vastly outnumbered and had lost the element of surprise when David Steele appeared on scene. If Eric wanted to be remembered as a hero, he knew that they would have to be on the right side of history. Warrant Smith’s words had haunted him ever since he explained to Eric that heroic acts are at the discretion of those that write the history books. If the Republic of Newfoundland lost this war they would most likely become the villains in someone else’s story. Eric didn’t want to be remembered for all the ruthless and heinous acts he had committed since Dana had gotten shot.
Eric had spent every day avoiding the undead since they had started refusing to depart from this world. They showed no remorse in their relentless pursuit of human flesh as they proved themselves to be the apex predators on land, similar to the great white sharks that stalked the oceans. They wouldn’t stop for any reason during their hunt and their army kept growing thanks to their recruiting efforts. Every unsuspecting soul that couldn’t ward off the dead became another shambling corpse roaming aimlessly across the earth. That was why Warrant Smith and Eric included them in their plan to take back Grand Falls from the Highway Hangman. Eric had spent nearly four
hours directing a massive pack away from the great herd that wandered from the East Coast, and directed them straight into the heart of Grand Falls. Eric had expended a considerable amount of energy making sure that he stayed far enough away from their ghastly clutches. Over the past several hours as the battle raged on one thing had become clear, the army of the dead would be the victor. The living may have triumphed over thousands of the undead this night, but the numbers of the breathing had been dwindling all night and now were starting to switch sides.
The thunderous booming of gunfire exploded just beyond the tree line, and Eric could see small flashes from the muzzles of guns through the blizzard. Tiny sparks of light guided him towards his inevitable encounter with the Pelley brothers. As long as they remained breathing his journey could not end. Not like this.
The sour stench of the long dead mixed with the bitter odour of the freshly fallen into a bouquet of death, which poured forth from all angles. Eric trudged through the deep snow towards the chaos that continued to boil over on the streets of Grand Falls. Sweat rolled down his back and soaked his shirt, the wickedly cold winds piercing his body making every movement complete agony. Eric knew his anger was only a shield for his pain but it was all he had left now. He reached the edge of the forest and leaned against a tree trunk as he looked out over the bloodied streets. Shuffling corpses littered the battlefield. Dead bodies that had yet to turn laid slumped over in the street in heaps next to the soulless creatures that had met their final resting place. Eric pulled his old service revolver out of its holster and opened the chamber and laughed. Only one bullet left and that wasn’t even his biggest concern. Still laughing, Eric held his hand up and stared at the blood flowing from the severed digit. Eric had known that the end was near ever since his trigger finger had been bitten off earlier that night.
CHAPTER TWO:
HOW THE END BEGAN
The sky was a brilliant orange as the sun started to crest over the pine clad hills. The wind cut through Eric’s plaid jacket but at least it had stopped snowing. The snow had kept falling throughout the night and now was nearly up to his knees but it was fluffy, making it fairly easy to get around. Smoke still billowed from the chimney of the house where he had left Dana. Eric had removed as much of the bullet as he could from her stomach, but he was afraid there was still a few fragments left inside. Her fever was running extremely high and it had begun to worry him. He had managed to find a large supply of antibiotics in the Pelley’s medicine cabinet for Dana, but he had no idea if they would do her any good. Every time he tried to move her, she would cry out in agony, and when she slept, she let out long whimpers and low harrowing moans. What little sleep Eric managed to get, it was ruined by the disturbing images of Dana turning into one of those decrepit creatures. He knew if she turned, he wouldn’t have the strength to continue anymore; now he understood Jason’s quest to find Tracy from the clutches of Pharmakon.
He was making his way towards the final cabin in the Pelley compound; he had already ransacked all the useful supplies he could find. When the Pelleys had left, they’d taken all the vehicles that still worked and siphoned all the gas from the ones that didn’t. Eric wasn’t much of a handy man, let alone a mechanic so he had no chance of fixing one of the abandoned vehicles. His only hope was to head back to Howley and pray he would find one there. He needed to get Dana to a doctor, but he couldn’t be gone too long. He was afraid something terrible would happen while he was looking for help. Eric felt like he was facing an impossible decision where either choice that he made could have dire consequences. It would take him about an hour to reach Howley, maybe longer if any of the members of the herd had broken off from the pack and stuck around. Dana had saved his life yesterday from the cold grasp of the dead and now he needed to keep her from becoming one of those monsters.
The screen door was left open and snow had drifted up against the old wooden door of the last cabin. The wooden siding had been painted red with white trim running along the windows and doors. Eric tried to turn the handle, but the door was locked. He rammed his shoulder into the door but all he managed to do was hurt himself; it didn’t budge. The freezing temperature had solidified the wood, making it even harder to break down without the proper equipment. Eric walked over to a window to have a peek inside the cabin, he wasn’t about to put too much effort into breaking into the cabin if he didn’t see anything he could use.
Eric had to pull himself up on the window ledge to get a better look inside. Peering through the window, he could see an old kitchen table with deep scratches and dark stains on it. A rusted out stove and old fridge rested on the back wall and a kitchen sink full of dishes was underneath the window on the outside wall. The counter top was made from old corkboard. The shelves underneath the counter was a junkyard of utensils, and tarnished pots and pans. None of the cupboards had any doors and the floor was unfinished plywood. Someone had been living here recently. Eric could see an open can of beans and an open beer on a coffee table in front of the fireplace. A soiled mattress was lodged in the corner, with dirty needles and other drug paraphernalia strewn about the floor. Eric had absolutely no intentions of sifting through that garbage.
The wind started blowing harder now, sending a cold shiver through Eric’s entire body. All he was doing now was delaying the inevitable; he knew he needed to get Dana help, but he was frightened. Eric decided to head back to check on Dana, and if she was still asleep, he would go back to Howley.
Clouds started to obscure Eric’s view of the sun and the wind was getting stronger now. The light, powdery snow was swirling around with every gust. Eric could see the gate that led towards Frank’s cabin, and while he knew he should have brought Frank’s corpse back here to be buried, he was still angry with him. He still wished the former police captain would have come clean about working with Pharmakon, how he allowed the experiments to carry on right under their noses. Eric cut through the woods to make up for the time he spent struggling against the wind, it was almost as if somebody was trying to keep him away from the cabins. The last time he had this gut feeling was when this all started, and the rain had washed away most of the evidence of the impending zombie apocalypse.
A fetid odour hung in the woods, and low groans and hungry moans danced all around him. The herd of zombies still hadn’t past through Howley yet; something was keeping them lurking around. The snow wasn’t as deep in the forest because the tree branches held a significant amount of the precipitation on their branches. Many of the branches drooped down, weighed down by the accumulation of snow over the past several days. Eric made his way quickly through the woods because even though the area was fairly open, he had a bad feeling that something awful was creeping in the shadows. Eric was getting short of breath, and the frigid temperatures weren’t helping him either. Every breath of air brought a sharp, icy sting into his lungs.
Eric stopped at the edge of the clearing to catch his breath. He could see shambling foot prints in the snow headed towards the cluster of cabins where they had been living. The noises still appeared distant, but Eric still drew his revolver and examined the chamber. It was still fully loaded but he wasn’t about to take any chances out here all alone. If something happened to him Dana would be all by herself, and he wasn’t about to let that happen.
A large red blotch could be seen at the bottom of the stairs leading to Frank’s cabin, drawing Eric’s attention. He started to creep over towards the gory smudge, and as he got closer, Eric could see shreds of clothing soiled with gore. He figured it must have been what remained of the man he shot yesterday. The scent of fresh blood probably attracted a swarm of the vile flesh gorgers. Hardly anything resembling a human body part remained, all he could clearly see was the rib cage that laid on the ground torn apart. The bones had been picked clean and limbs had been ripped clear of the torso. Eric could see a boot about ten feet away from where the legs should have been and an arm bone near the base of a tree.
THUNK
A loud, sickening th
ud echoed in the distance. Eric couldn’t pinpoint where the noise had originated, and he strained to listen for more sounds over the gusts of wind. A vortex of blood-stained snow sprung up around Eric and he shielded his eyes to make sure that it didn’t get in his eyes.
THUNK
THUNK-THUNK
THUNK
Eric could hear rough voices grunting now; they were coming from nearby. Eric headed towards the sounds without thinking about what could possibly be making the noises. He didn’t have time to consider the options. His legs tried to resist the impulses sent by his brain as they seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into the snow with every step. His leg muscles started cramping, and he was barely able to keep a jogging pace. The grunts joined in a chorus of low groans. As Eric got closer he realized a group of the living were struggling against the undead.
Dana grasped her stomach, intense, burning pains radiating from the wound. The entire area around the laceration was tender, and she threw the blankets off her and lifted her shirt up. The bandage covering the gunshot was soaked with blood.
“Eric!” Dana screamed out, her echo booming through the empty cabin. Sweat pouring down her forehead as she attempted to move her body. Swinging her legs to the floor, she tried to stand up but fell forward, barely managing to brace herself against the nightstand before she crashed to the floor.
Gathering her strength, Dana crawled towards the bedroom door. Her knees felt wet, and when she looked back, she could see a smeared trail of blood on the floorboards behind her. She tried to put pressure on the wound and was rewarded with excruciating pain. Reaching up, Dana grabbed the doorknob and pulled herself to her feet. She turned the handle and nearly toppled over as the door swung open into the hallway. Dana stumbled into an end table and clung on to it to keep herself from crashing into the wall. A lamp was sent hurtling to the floor and it smashed over the oak floorboards. Glass shards scattered across the floor and Dana looked down at her bare feet.
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