The Last Days (Books I, II, & III)

by Julie Cooper Brown

  So, the time came to leave there, too. You can’t stay in one place too long.

  BITTEN

  It has been 37 hours now, since he has been bitten, and such a very small bite. We were sneaking through the streets to find other shelter because the restraunt wasn’t safe anymore. Evan was probably five feet in front of me. I should’ve been watching closer, but I was distracted. We heard a woman screaming and I tried so hard not to see it.

  We couldn’t help, we had run past a group of Infected, and though they couldn’t run after us, they were headed in our direction. Navigating my path had left me no choice but to look that way and I saw a little girl and she was a Halfer.

  She was tearing into the belly of a severely wounded pregnant woman who was screaming relentlessly up until then, dying of either her injuries, or fright. I’m going to go with the latter.

  I was frozen in place by the shock of the scene unfolding before me. As sickened as I was by the sight, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the child.

  There are no words to describe all that I saw and what I was feeling.

  I wondered if the child was her daughter, or her niece. Or maybe she was just a random little girl that had been chosen to end her life. Then... she looked right at me.

  A bolt of fear shot through me as I thought she was going to come after me, but she didn’t.

  She sat there on her knees looking at me over the mass of flesh she was eating.

  I think, it may have been some part of the unborn child. I know I saw it, and somewhere, deep down inside, I know what it was.

  My memory will not allow me to recall. Thank You, Lord.

  And she was looking at me with insolence, like a spoiled brat who had just gotten her way by getting the candy bar she demanded to have, and was daring me to take it from her.

  I heard Evan half-whisper, half-shout at me to “COME ON!”, and as I turned to catch up to him, an Infected female lumbered out from behind the van that Evan was standing next to, and latched onto his right shoulder.

  I went to the left side of Evan and stood in front of him. My goal was to shoot her and make the gore spit out behind them. I had to try to keep the blood from getting on him. He was wearing a hooded raincoat but I didn’t want it on him at all. I raised my gun and fired even though I was scared to death that I would miss and hit Evan because of bad aim. Well, by that time I got pretty good with a gun so my shot was true and my bullet entered the left side of her head and exploded out the other in a fine spray.

  We didn’t think he’d gotten bit, he said that he didn’t feel anything. But when we finally found a place to stop for a moment, we took off his rain coat, jacket and shirt; we found that it was the smallest thing.

  One of her teeth had made the connection, but I shot her before she could really get a good size bite. It was a very small puncture. The bitch managed to break the skin. That’s all it took.

  For the whole day we searched for a place to rest, for the night, but since the number of Infected increased by at least three times, it was hard to find even a partly empty street. There were always at least three hanging out in the street. You don’t want them to see you go in anywhere. They may not be fast, but they will follow you, and they will wait for you until something else distracts them. There weren’t many living people left to run, so the chance of them being distracted was almost none.

  We didn’t know our way around this area so it seemed like we were running in circles, all the houses were the same, until we got to this street, Spirit Lane. To a big house that had no business here, among all these other little houses. I was happy for it, it looked comfortable.

  Of course I weighed the options, it was a much bigger house, so the number of Infected that could be in there could be few or many. But also more places to hide. I just felt that it had to be this house. We couldn’t run anymore anyway. Evan was getting weaker.

  When we arrived here in this house, it was in good condition, it must be someone from up North’s winter home. We checked the first floor and there were no infected. I told Evan to sit at the table and rest until I was through checking the second floor. There were two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. There was still running water. No zombies.

  I didn’t worry much about the curtains on the first floor, they were sort of heavy in the living room, and the only window in the kitchen had a thick shade. They could not see us from the street. I went to the bathroom and got a thick towel to put over the window on the back door. We were safe for a while.

  I checked the cabinets and found two cans of corn and a box of stale crackers. Evan by this time, was not only weak and freezing to the bone, he didn’t feel like eating, so I didn’t eat either.

  I got a large mixing bowl from the kitchen and went upstairs. I put my pack in front of the first bedroom door and Evan went into the bedroom.

  I filled the bowl with water from the sink and found a wash rag, a new bar of soap and a towel. I took it in the bedroom and washed Evan’s face and under arms, I turned my back, so he could wash the rest of himself. When he was done I washed the bite for him. He said it was sore, and it was definitely an angry red.

  I changed the water and got different rag and bar of soap and repeated the process for myself.

  Evan lay down on the bed, and I covered him up and sat leaning back against the head board so I could watch him.

  It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. I didn’t plan on sleeping but dozed off anyway.

  We woke up because we heard noise down on the first floor, and light footsteps running into the next room and shutting the door. Someone else was here, but I was not going to check it out.

  I remembered that I shrugged off my backpack in the hall just outside the door and it had things in it that we would need.

  I tried to quietly open the door to snatch the bag, but the staircase was only a few feet from the door and one of the Infected climbing the stairs, saw me.

  I grabbed the pack and shut the door quickly and frantically scanned the room for a place to hide. The dresser was too heavy for us to move and the only other furniture was the bed and an end table. I felt helpless for just a second. I did not want to be eaten alive.

  Evan looked up and saw the cord to the hatch, so he pulled it and a ladder came down. He refused to go first, so I scrambled up there and extended my hand to him and he grabbed the blanket off the bed. He threw it up to me and I tossed it aside and extended my hand to help him up the rest of the way. He had gotten weaker during his sleep, but he was not yet disabled. As soon as we started grasping the rungs to get the ladder back up, the zombie opened the door. We pulled it up far enough for me to get the cord and yank it up the rest of the way. I fastened it to a nail as I explained earlier. We barely made it.

  That is how we got trapped here. That was yesterday. We heard nothing else from whoever had run into the other room. No screams or anything. So, I’m sure there is a live person somewhere below us. I had distracted the zombies when I opened the door to get my bag, maybe it saved a life, for now. I hope they get a chance to escape.

  THE TIME HAS COME

  9:46 A.M.

  He is full out undead now, and I feel sorry for him. He looks pitiful. Such a lost and helpless look on his face, and the moans, it sounds like he’s weeping. This is all too much for me. He doesn’t know anything but gnawing hunger now. The zombies are victims, too. They didn’t ask for this. These zombies were once the people we love, friends and family.

  I should’ve ended this, hours ago, but I wanted to finish my account of the events. And now, I have. What I could most clearly recall anyway. I hope that you may have found some of this useful. Though I don’t know what you’ll use it for. I know it’s the end of the world, so if you find this, It’s just a matter of time for you as well.

  If I could’ve had just one more cup of coffee with this last cigarette I am smoking, that would’ve been good.

  For the past three weeks, we have been doing nothing but running. If by chance, this cur
se is lifted from us and my sisters managed to survive, I want them to know that Evan and I did not get torn apart and consumed in such a grisly manner. I want them to know we took the easy way out when we realized there would be no escape. I want them to know I was thinking of them in my last moments. April and Marie, I love you.

  I know it seems sudden, but I have nothing left to tell you. These are the last few moments of the last day of my life and I want to say that I got the chance to know happiness and true love, and I have few regrets. Life could’ve been so much harder for me, as it was for so many other people.

  I am going to go to him, and I’m going to wrap my arms around him and kiss him. I am going to imagine that we are headed to a better place. The moment he sinks his teeth into me, from behind his head…I will pull the trigger. This is a .357, ya know. If it does what I think it will do, one bullet just might be enough. We will die locked in a macabre lovers embrace forever. It’s looking like we are both going to get what we want after all.

  Stand here my friend

  And cast an eye,

  As you are now

  So once was I.

  As I am now

  So you will be,

  Prepare for death

  And follow me.

  -Anonymous

  book ii

  kate’s calling

  October 24, 2013

  10:22 A.M.

  I am Kate Roland. I was a Private First Class soldier in the Army, until the world began falling apart. Then I became just another human being fighting to save my life. Why? I don’t know. I’m surely not going to find the man of my dreams and get married, have babies and live happily ever after. No chance of that, ever.

  I have always thought that if the world were going to end, it would be because the sun or some other heavenly body would hurl out of the sky at astronomical speeds and slam into the earth, shattering it into a billion pieces in an instant. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. Nope. We’re not that lucky.

  Instead we get to receive the Plague of the Undead. I’ll admit that I was dumbfounded when I heard of the dead rising. It was straight out of Hollywood, that couldn’t happen. Once you’re dead, you’re dead.

  The people that died in the earthquakes and tsunamis, fires, tornados; those people were the lucky ones.

  Now, I imagine it was scary enough, and I can imagine the fear they must’ve felt. Probably as scared as I am, it’s just a different kind of scared. They were truly blessed to be given a quick death. If there were any survivors, they are surely dead by now.

  I can’t believe that the United States hasn’t collapsed as well. I understand why. We had obviously chosen our own fate.

  Zombies? Really? Come on. I’ll bet my life that it was man made, and they (meaning the government) put it out there. Where else would it come from?

  Jillian felt it was a punishment from God. Me, not being very religious, fell it was done to assess some kind of population control. There are too many people in this country. We have immigration problems. Maybe they wanted it for border control. No matter what the reason; I think it was already in the works before the disasters occurred.

  I think they developed and planned it. They couldn’t have picked a worse time to release it, and they probably thought they could handle it, but it became bigger than they ever imagined.

  Yea, that’s what I think happened. Why didn’t they eliminate all threat of this spreading when they had all the resources? Somebody purposely let it walk right out the front door.

  No matter. There’s no sense in trying to figure it out, I’m not even sure what I believe, now. I can’t change a thing.

  No, I’m not bitten, or infected at all. I do have a sprained ankle, which is one of the reasons why I’m still here in this cemetery. If my ankle were not injured, I would have already tried to leave.

  As beautiful as it is, I can’t stay here forever. But I can stay here for now. I need a rest anyway.

  My ankle will be healed in a few days and I can go on my way. For now, I’m tired of running, and I’m tired of hiding. If I had a bullet, I would use it. But I have long since run out of ammo for the only weapon I have left. Maybe my future travels will lead me to an armory. A girl can dream, can’t she? You never know, obviously anything can happen.

  As I mentioned a moment ago, I am currently staying in a cemetery, The All Souls Cemetery in fact. I know because I saw the great big sign beside the front gates. I am somewhere in southern Tennessee. Imagine that. Believe it or not, in the midst of the rising dead, a cemetery is the safest place to be. For some reason, the dead here do not rise, they can’t hurt me.

  I have always been fond of cemeteries, and I found a beautiful crypt to hang out in. Someone really loved Markus McNeal because his crypt is all decked out with a curtain, a loveseat and a few framed photos, and a blue plush throw blanket. It has come in handy because it’s been just a little cold outside. There was a Cuban cigar, but I smoked it. I’m not usually a smoker, but I made an exception in this case.

  I love the quiet, peaceful surroundings and the natural beauty of cemeteries. I can actually hear birds chirping and a nice crisp breeze is blowing through the trees causing the leaves to rustle and fall from their branches.

  I am writing this down because I agree with Jillian, (I’ll fill you in on her momentarily) someone needs to keep an account of what has gone on here. I got the idea from her, not to mention I am bored and need a distraction, just as she did but not with the urgency that she had needed one. Thank God. I could choose my fate at this moment.

  Jillian didn’t think there would be anyone left to find her notes, but I found them, and I have hope that someone will find mine as well. I might make it a point to personally give it to someone, but that’s not likely. I don’t think I will find anyone else alive in these parts. If I succeed in getting out of here, I will start my own history for the new world, if there is one.

  A few things have happened over the course of the last week, small subtle hints that made me believe that maybe this world will have a second chance. It gave me something to look forward to, when there was nothing but the undead to count on a week ago.

  I don’t think it will happen very soon, it may take years or even decades, and I don’t think I will be able to hold out that long.

  I have to say that I love the spot I am hidden in, but I don’t have the means to stay here for a lengthy amount of time.

  Eventually I am going to need to leave, I’ll need food. The body is driven to survive and hunt down its needs.

  If I ignore it, I will starve to death, if I don’t, and I go out in search of food, (and since I have no means of self-defense at this point) I will be risking a painful and horrific death. So, for the moment, my injury is saving my life. Otherwise I would be too stubborn to stay here for more than a few hours of good sleep.

  The truth be known, it’s not death itself that I fear, and if or when we die, but the manner in which it will occur.

  I am definitely afraid that it may be by the hands of the infected, but I am going to do my best to insure that my death will not result in my being some lucky zombies’ main course. I am terrified of that happening.

  I would like to tell you about Jillian, and how she has affected my life. I feel the need to tell you about her, so you can follow what's going on here and why she has such a great impact on my life at the moment.

  She was not a friend, though I met her once, I did not know her personally. But after reading the journal she had left behind, I feel like I know her very well. In an odd way she has become my friend and confidant. I talk to her sometimes.

  Of course she doesn’t talk back, I’m not crazy, and I just imagine that I am talking to her instead of myself.

  I looked at the pictures and watched the videos that were on her phone before the battery died. I still have it as well. I have kept them with me since, and I plan on keeping them along with my notes. It’s written in the same pad of paper.

  I’m also going to sa
y that I knew her heart. She was a good person, with a foul mouth, but we’re all guilty of that on occasion, I myself have had a really bad mouth lately. It was sad how it ended for her and her husband.

  She was the only zombie I felt any sympathy for, and I shouldn’t feel bad because in the end I know that’s what she wanted. She didn’t want to be that way. Well, nobody does. These zombies are living, breathing- well, they don’t breathe but they are definitely in there somewhere. I could tell from her reaction when I aimed my weapon to shoot her. I will get to the telling of that event soon enough…

  Once again, I am not religious. But I feel blessed that I didn’t have to be alone for the entirety of my journey. I am lonely now, but I have memories and this worn pad of paper to keep me occupied.

  Dave Fraley, a friend from high school, was also in the army. He signed up the same time that I did and I haven’t seen him since boot camp. We just happened to be posted in the same area. Dave was a really good guy, and I miss him horribly.

  He had very kind eyes a weird shade of grey, an even kinder sort of silly smile and dishwater blonde hair that grew in every direction. Back in high school we called him Fuzzy and he didn’t mind. He knew it was a term of endearment. He always kept to his self, did what was needed to be done without complaining about it, which was good. Most men I’ve encountered in my life bitch and whine more than any woman ever could. When I ran into him, I felt relieved, just to be around someone familiar was a good feeling.

  We had been stationed in Ft. Myers, Florida together, and when the other troops began disappearing only to resurface as the Undead, all military personnel were told to kill EVERYONE in sight. Infection or not, and that was the last order we had gotten from our Commanders. We have not heard from them since.

  Dave and I decided that we weren’t up for murdering innocent people. So we drifted off on our own, checking on the people that remained, and telling them to keep inside and lock the doors. That it was not safe outside for any reason. After we left, if they decided not to listen to us, well I guess they didn’t make it. I know that some of them were probably killed later by the other troops that consisted of uncaring and heartless individuals following orders, like Preston Brooks. What a character.