Table of Contents
Title Page
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Only Love Survives
by
Renee Charles
Love and Zombies, Book One
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Only Love Survives
COPYRIGHT © 2013 by Renee Charles
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Angela Anderson
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Black Rose Edition, 2013
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-908-7
Love and Zombies, Book One
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my husband, the hero in my real life love story
Chapter One
Month Seven of the Epidemic
Megan Fletcher rummaged in the drawer past the melon baller, cheese grater and other useless kitchen gadgets. Her stomach growled. She shoved the drawer closed and a cloud of dust laced with pet hair rose off the counter in protest.
The next drawer required two tugs to get open. Spatulas…wooden spoons…nothing worth the space it would take up in her backpack. Seven months of ransacking left the house picked clean. Nothing left to eat either.
“My kingdom for a Swiss Army Knife or can of beans.”
She tried not to let her eyes wander to the abandoned meal still rotting in the middle of the dust covered kitchen table. Although clearly not an option, her eyes kept drifting in that direction. She couldn’t help but wonder if the owners had knocked over the high chair when they ran, or if it happened later as looters tore the place apart? Megan steeled herself and focused on the task at hand. Supplies.
As she turned the island corner and reached for the next set of drawers, the pantry door at the other end of the kitchen creaked. Icy strands of fear swept over Megan and her breath erupted in short, labored bursts. No light penetrated the space behind the door. She peered into darkness and took a step back, edging toward her escape route. Megan backed up, one foot silently behind the other. Nice and slow. But when the hinge creaked again, she couldn’t stop herself from spinning and making a break for the garage door. A pathetic meow stopped her retreat.
A black nose poked out from behind the door, followed by a cat far larger than it had any right to be under the circumstances. All the air left her lungs in one burning swoosh and her heart pounded in her chest as if it wanted out. Nothing like a little panic in the afternoon to wake you up. Megan took a deep, cleansing breath and shook her hands in an effort to rid herself of the extra adrenalin coursing through her veins. “Do you have any idea how rude it is to scare the bejesus out of your house guests?”
The fuzz ball ignored the reprimand and meandered over to her feet, then proceeded to demand affection by rubbing against her legs. Megan couldn’t resist. She crouched and buried her hand in his soft, orange fur.
“You’re nice and fat. The mouse business must be good in these empty houses, huh? I don’t mind telling you, I’m a little jealous.” She stopped stroking the animal and folded her arms, but he wasn’t finished yet and continued to rub against her bent knee. “Lucky for you, I haven’t resorted to eating family pets.”
The cat kept her company while Megan searched the rest of the house. He wound between her feet every time she stopped to peek in a cabinet or drawer. Anything useful went into her backpack, including a brand new pack of batteries for her small flashlight and the crowning jewel of her finds, an unused bar of soap. Mostly unused anyway.
Roughly an hour later, the cat nearly tripped Megan at the front door. “Hey watch it fur ball.”
But, his ploy worked and she bent over to rub his chin one last time before she left. His purr vibrated through his entire body and Megan squatted, rested an arm on her knees and scratched his back too. He stretched and gave her full access. With one last tap on the head, Megan rose and opened the door.
As the stench of rotting flesh engulfed her, she realized—too late—she forgot to check the door first. Terror shot through her like an electrical current as she found herself within arm’s reach of a man-eater, a zombie. The monster lifted his head and reached for her with exposed bone and loose flesh dangling from his fingers. Megan stumbled back.
The remnants of his clothes, slick with blood, clung to him and made a wet sucking noise as he moved. The zombie groaned and stumbled forward, which drew the attention of the other decomposing monsters wandering in confused circles on the front lawn. The entire congregation of undead turned at his excitement and lumbered toward the house.
Megan stifled a scream. Noise would only increase the feeding frenzy, like blood in shark-infested water. She scrambled to get her feet under her and turned for the staircase, but the stupid cat didn’t follow. Instead, he backed up into the far corner of the living room hissing and howling at the intruder, which only garnered the creature’s interest. The zombie tipped his head and followed the cat, entranced by the fur ball’s agitation.
“Son of a biscuit eater.” Megan shook her head. Not only had she let the monster into the cat’s home, but there were dinner guests on the way. The tug of war that would ensue was unimaginable, and the cat…Megan shuddered. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the forsaken pet to be ripped apart. A broken piece of wood at the base of the staircase caught her eye. It was a dumb move, she knew even as she reached for the board and approached the zombie from behind, but she had no choice.
“Hey.” She raised the board over her shoulder like a baseball bat.
The creature turned, and Megan swung as hard as she could. The hard wood connected with its jaw in a crack that turned her stomach. The zombie spun and fell, but immediately struggled to get back up, oblivious to the fact that its jaw bone hung by a single tendon.
Megan scooped up the cat. He meowed, but thankfully didn’t fight back. She hit the staircase just as the next zombie stumbled through the front door. More followed. They piled in one after another, climbing over the top of each other. The swarm of monsters surged toward the staircase, toward her and the cat. Clumsy, but relentless.
Megan ducked into the first room at the top of the stairs, slammed the door behind her and dropped the cat. He tore across the carpet and leapt up onto the sill of an open window. Her n
ew friend turned back and meowed at her one last time before he escaped.
“Traitor.” Megan pressed her ear against the door, but all she heard was the panicked flow of air that rushed in and out of her lungs. She sucked in a breath and held it. The groans and scratches on the other side of the door filled her with desperation. They would not stop following her until there was nothing left to follow. Zombies were like bloodhounds on a hot trail. Once they had something in their line of sight, they kept going until something else grabbed their attention. Megan’s lungs throbbed until she finally remembered to breathe again.
Frantic, she scanned the room for an escape route. Great. Trapped upstairs in a bedroom with no way out. A bedroom she didn’t know, in a house she’d never been in, surrounded by a horde of hungry zombies.
“Careless, careless, careless…” Megan drug a dresser in front of the door while she berated herself.
The curtain fluttered in the open window, and Megan shook her head denying the inevitable. Running outta time. She peeked out to see where the cat had gone. At least the window led to the roof and not straight down.
The banging at the door behind her jostled the dresser. It was only a matter of seconds before they made it through. She took a deep breath and climbed out onto the red roof tiles.
“Oh, this is a bad idea.” She searched for a foothold while the darn cat sat on a tree branch, swished his tail and watched.
Megan held on to the wood frame of the window ignoring the splinters that dug into her fingers. The corpses inside banged at the door still trying to get in the room. She felt around for the next foothold and inched toward the eave.
To think there was a time when she’d complained about a classroom full of fourth graders hopped up on Halloween candy. At least they never tried to eat her…much.
One of the tiles under her sneaker cracked and slipped out from under her foot. Her heart seized up for a beat, then continued on its race. The theme to Spiderman popped into her head. Megan swallowed the hysterical laughter that bubbled up. Of all the ridiculous…
The two zombies that still roamed the yard below came to attention at the sound of the tile exploding on the cement below. They turned toward the house with all the grace and speed of newborn giraffes. A crash resounded inside signaling the zombies had broken through her worthless barricade.
She looked over at the cat in the tree. “I don’t suppose you’d go back in there?”
Megan’s foot slipped again, and she scrambled to get a hold of something…anything that would support her.
The window filled with decaying monsters clambering over the top of one another only a couple feet away. Megan turned her face to escape their rotten stench. The pitch of the roof made it hard to maneuver even for her, and she had tendons. Maybe the zombies would just fall before they got to her. Maybe she was screwed.
The screech of tires and blare of a car horn announced a Suburban careening down the street toward her. The urban assault vehicle jumped the curb, plowed into the zombies below her and slid to a stop under the edge of the roof. A man with wild blond hair and a dress shirt completely unbuttoned stood up on his seat right through the sunroof.
“Hurry up. Just ‘cause I knocked them down doesn’t mean they’re going to stay down.” He reached up for her.
Megan grabbed the stranger’s hand and jumped to the roof of the Suburban just as a zombie tumbled past her. It hit the ground with a wet splat. Megan frantically peeled off her backpack so she could fit through the sunroof. Her unknown hero plopped down in his seat. She dove into the passenger seat next to him. He hit the gas and sent a rooster tail of dirt, rock and tufts of grass in their wake.
When Megan reached behind her for the seatbelt, he swerved and veered onto the street. The seatbelt locked up in its track, and she braced herself to keep from tumbling into his lap. Once…twice…the darn thing was not doing its job. She straightened in the seat and took a deep breath before the third pull. The belt finally unfurled and she clicked it in place.
“Got a name?” He wrenched the wheel to the right and hopped another curb.
She grabbed the handhold above the window just in case the seatbelt didn’t do its job.
“Is there any reason you’re driving like a mad man? They don’t move very fast you know. They barely walk.” She turned in the seat and saw what he was running from. The quaint neighborhood took on the appearance of a flooded anthill as a throng of walking dead swarmed into the street. “Go faster.”
“Right.” Another slow moving horde overtook the road in front of them. He swung to the left. “Hold on...” He drove right through a fence. “I hate these little suburb neighborhoods. They’re hell to get out of.”
“Megan.” She held on to the handle overhead and put a foot up on the dash to keep her fanny in the seat.
“What?” He let his eyes leave the road for a split second to glance at her, then back to the road. “Damn.”
He swerved to stay out of a swamp that had once been somebody’s swimming pool. Megan ducked as he crashed through another fence, then swerved again to miss one last zombie before he straightened out on an empty street.
“Why did you avoid that one?” She didn’t bother to look back.
“If I hit it, there’s a chance it’ll get stuck. Then we’re dragging a corpse with us. Not a good idea if you ever intend to get out of the car. What are you doing so close to a quarantined town?”
“I didn’t see a sign…any fences. I thought they were putting fences around the towns this infested.”
“I think they gave up on that a couple of months ago.” He glanced over his shoulder, then turned forward again.
Megan watched the color return to his fingers as he loosened his grip on the wheel a bit. “I was searching for food. What are you doing here?”
“Searching for gas, which I’m not gonna find here with that swarm on the hunt. What did you say your name was?” He let off the gas and drove like a sane person.
“Megan. Thanks for saving my butter back there.” She let her foot slide from the dash back to the floorboard.
“Butter?” He relaxed back into the seat. “Who talks like that?”
“Teachers who don’t swear in front of their students say all sorts of weird things.”
“But…butter?”
“Okay, this is where you say your name. That’s how polite people introduce themselves.” She turned in the seat and faced him.
“Sam Woods.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Woods.”
“Call me Sam. I think the way polite people do things is a moot point these days. Are you alone out here?”
Megan adjusted the oversized watch on her wrist. “Yep.”
“How long?”
“Since month four of the epidemic.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “You?”
“I held out in Seattle until month three. Then I went to my fishing cabin and managed for a while. But now I’m headed south looking for someone.”
“Family?” She played with the frayed strings that hung off her pack.
“My sister. Last I talked to her, she was planning to meet me at the cabin. I waited, but she didn’t show. Now I’ve got to find her.”
“Where was she?”
“School. UCI in Southern California. She’s on the rowing team… Was on the rowing team.”
“Where are you planning to look?” Megan couldn’t look at him. He had to know how slim the odds were of finding the girl.
“South.”
His jaw twitched, and Megan decided it was best to leave it alone.
The world broke down so slowly, it was almost easy to pretend things had not changed at first. Her cell phone worked until she couldn’t find a place with electricity to charge it. As her friends and family died, or un-died, so to speak, she ran out of people to talk to. So, it was no great loss when she dumped the phone. Megan hoped he found his sister, despite her doubts. But as she used to tell her students, wanting and wishing didn’t make
things happen…action did. He was taking action; she had to respect that, no matter how futile.
Megan scanned the car for a clue about the guy. Relatively clean, its most notable feature was the stockpile of weapons in the seat behind them. Not so long ago that would have freaked her out. Now, not so much. Although she didn’t personally carry a gun, she had not met too many people who didn’t. “This your car?”
“It is now. You’ve been on your own three months?” Sam took his shades off and pierced her with the most amazing blue eyes she’d seen in…well…at least three months.
“Yep.”
Three months. A rift of loneliness tore at her insides, but she shook it off. There was a reason she chose to be alone. And if she truly did carry the future of mankind in her blood stream, she’d darn near risked it all to save a cat. Why? To feel normal again? Prove she was still human?
The sooner she made it to Vegas, the better off the rest of the planet would be.
Chapter Two
While Sam drove toward the highway, Megan watched the empty houses go by. Some stood gaping, full of broken windows and open doors. Others hid behind scrap wood and broken furniture. Were they boarded up to keep looters from getting in, or the zombies out?
“Do you think there’s anyone living in these houses?”
“No. They are either long gone, or part of the mob that tried to have you for lunch.”
“Maybe.” Megan had a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that no one was left. Cars still sat in the driveways with doors wide open, waiting for the driver and passengers to return. Overgrown hedges and lawns of the once manicured yards resembled suburban jungles that threatened to swallow any discarded toy abandoned within its reach. Everything frozen in that moment before the world went mad. A living snap shot of the end of the world.
Only Love Survives (Love and Zombies) Page 1
