by D. J. Graves
THE
ZOMBIE
BOOK
Zombie Book One
By Diana Graves
Copyright © 2017 Diana Graves
All rights reserved.
Kindle Edition
♦
License Statement
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of pure fiction. Characters, places and incidents are creations of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to people, living or dead, businesses, events or places is purely coincidental.
Acknowledges
To Erin, my best friend.
♦
OTHER WORKS
THE RAINA KIRKLAND SERIES
Fatal Retribution
Mortal Sentry
Grave Omen
Deadly Encounters
Toxic Warrior
NOVELLAS
The Artist: The Serial Series Book 1
The Librarian: The Serial Series Book 2 (Winter 2017 Release)
The Zombie Book: Zombie Book 1
OTHER
Adult Coloring Book: Dark Whimsy
Table of Contents:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
Message from Author.
1
Breathing quickly; in through the nose, out through the mouth; in and out. My arms were pumping, my legs were burning. I ran past the burn, past the pain. The freezing wind was scorching my face, but I ran. I propelled myself forward with everything I had in me because my life depended on it. Not just mine, but my child’s life depended on it. He clung to my back, arms around my chest, fingers entwined as I ran. He was crying out and screaming, “NO!” because they were just behind us, clawing for us! I knew that if I slowed down even a little they’d catch us, ride us to the ground and rip into us like so much meat, because that’s all we were to them, meat.
“Here!” a man’s voice called out from the woods along the road. His voice was deep and frantic and the horrible truth was that I couldn’t be sure the voice was real or just in my head, but I knew I couldn’t go on like this. I couldn’t keep running with a toddler screaming on my back. It was only pure desperation that got us so far, and it was desperation that sent me running toward the voice. Off the cement road and into the thick green woods, I scrambled over logs and ferns and weaved through the trees.
“Where are you?” I screamed with a pain filled voice. For a terrible second, I felt stupid. I’d made the wrong choice and there was no room for wrong choices in this world. Stupidity can get you killed faster than anything else, and I just ran into a dense forest with a horde of undead at my back. Fuck! My mind began to race. Could I climb a tree? Could I force my legs to do that? They were already beginning to give out on me, I could feel it.
“Mommy!” screamed Christopher.
I turned and I was face to face with a rotting corpse. It’s right eye was milky with death but it's left was red, yellow and bloated with rot. Its nose, lips, and eyebrows were gone. It’d long been dead, but it came at me, hungry. Christopher screamed again and I did what I’ve done well for the past three years. I killed the thing. Close range. Weapon of choice for this one, machete. It was in a sheath, tight against my thigh and with a precision honed out of necessity; I drew it and sliced the thing’s face in half with one almost graceful movement. A large chunk of face, frayed none-descriptive brown hair, and putrid brain matter flew off into the dark, and for a moment it stood still, but with wide alert eyes, I watched it fall to the ground in a heap. Christopher screamed again and I had my pistol out and pointed at the next corpse, topping over itself to get to us. I took a calming breath and pointed just below my mark because I was a poor shot. I learned quickly that I always missed by a few inches above where I aimed, so I aimed low and I never missed. There was probably some right way to do it, some proper form that I didn’t know. Fuck it. My method worked just fine for me so far. I pulled the trigger and its head was sent back with the force of the bullet. I moved to take aim again, but there were too many to shoot and they were too close to take out one by one before they’d descend upon us.
“Hold on Chris,” I said as I turned to run again.
“DOWN!” shouted a man, tall and armed to the teeth. He wasn’t alone. He stood shoulder to shoulder with three others, all armed, all pointing their guns at the horde behind us. I didn’t waste time, I threw myself on the ground, detached my son’s arms from around my chest and rolled over, pinning his little body to the forest floor. The forest was alight with gunfire and being this close to it made it a deafening sound. I covered as much of Chris with my body as I could and shielded his ears with my hands as the militia advanced on the horde.
As the men progressed past us I picked Chris up into my arms and ran again. Holding him in front meant I was off balance. Add the dense wet terrain of the rainforest and we made a slow progress away from the fight. We had to gain distance between us before the gunfire stopped. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the gunmen to kill off those things. I was pretty confident in their abilities. I was just more concerned about what they would do with us once they were done with the corpses. People don’t have a history of being on their best behavior when times are hard, and these were the hardest of times. If I was lucky, they’d gang rape me, leave Chris alone and then be on their way. If I was very unlucky they’d kill us both, or just him. No one needs another mouth to feed, another victim waiting to happen, and that’s all Christopher was to most people. At least I was a good killer and a fun time if they could hold me down long enough, but Chris was only barely three years old. He was a baby still, my baby. He was the last good thing I had in this world.
The gunfire stopped and the woods were quiet. I dived into the underbrush and put my index finger to my lips, signing hush. Chris knew that when I did that that no matter what, he had to be very still and quiet. And, he was. He didn’t move in my arms, as scared as he was. He burrowed his little head into my breasts and made no sound at all. Keeping quiet and still was the first thing he learned and it saved our lives more than a dozen times. But all my insistence on quiet had stunted his speech development.
My head was against a tree. I peered out into the near pitch black forests and debated how long we’d lay there before I picked him up and ran again. I could wait until I was sure they were gone and then run, or we could wait out the night and hope they didn’t find us. If we stayed until light, neither of us would get any sleep and there was a small chance they could find us in the dark. If we ran there was a greater chance they’d hear us and find us, or we could become lost or accidentally stumble upon another horde in the dark. Staying put seemed the best option.
I resisted the urge to stroke Christopher’s soft curly hair as we waited in the dark, waited for the sun to rise or the men to find us or not find us. I had terrific night vision but that meant shit out here. I couldn’t see three feet ahead of me. I hoped it was the same for those men because I couldn’t help my body’s knee-jerk reaction when I heard a man’s voice through the night. Christopher tried to dig d
eeper into me and I did put my hand on his soft hair then.
“Miss?” a deep voice echoed through the trees. “Miss, the things are dead! You can come out now!”
Another man laughed. “You couldn’t have gotten very far with that little one! Come out from where you’re hiding!”
“I bet you’re hungry!” shouted the first man
I settled in deeper against the ground as if I could hide myself any better than the dark. Their voices sounded far off, maybe a hundred feet or more. I felt a small measure of safety in that knowledge, but it was short lived when I saw the first beam of a flashlight shine over us. My heart began to race and I had to fight against my fight or flight response to either stand up and shoot toward the source of the light or make a run for it. I tried to look away from the light, so it didn’t destroy my night vision, and concentrate on the sounds around us. A second beam of light shined directly over my head, and then passed us by. We were in darkness again and I let out a breath of relief that I quickly swallowed when I felt boots step over me. One boot was on either side of my legs and then the man bent down, smiling.
“Well, hello, hello,” he said inches from my face. Fuck!
I didn’t wait for him to say another word. I didn’t wait to learn his intentions. Noble wasn’t the usual sort of man. Horny, impassioned, brutal. That was the usual. I made a move for my machete. I’d shove it into his throat. It’d be a nice quiet death, long and painful but quiet. I brought the machete up quick, but he fell on top of me, pinning my arms with his knees and grabbing my head with one large hand. At this close, I could see the deep brown of his eyes and smell the coffee on his breath. God, I missed coffee. He was ruggedly handsome, but that was really the only sort of handsome left. Soft people didn’t live long.
“Were you going to kill me after what we did for you?” he asked inches from my face.
I gave him mean eyes as he held my head hard against the tree. “If you and your men want payment, take it! But, leave my son out of this, please.”
He smiled and looked down at Chris. He had his father’s eyes, large blue soul-piercing eyes. He looked up at him with those eyes; so scared as he clung to his mommy, hungry, cold and exhausted.
He looked back up at me and ignored my words. “What are you doing out here?”
“Running.”
He laughed at that, “I saw that. Can I let you go without you trying to kill me again?”
“No.”
“Well, at least you’re honest. We’re here!” the man shouted. Light beams began to converge on us and soon I was being blinded by the light. Footsteps followed shortly. “Disarmed her,” he said to his men. He looked back down at me. “Normally, I wouldn’t want anyone out here unarmed, but I can’t have you killing us.”
I struggled as the men pulled out all my knives and guns from their sheaths around my ankles, legs, hips, stomach and arms.
“Bloody hell, she’s got like fifteen blades on her,” said one man with a thick British accent. But he was wrong, I only had twelve knives.
“And, six guns,” said another. That was spot on.
“If we take your boy, he’s going to cry, isn’t he?” the man asked.
“Probably.”
The man holding all my blades crouched down and looked at Chris. He had long black hair that hid much of his face. “How are you keeping him quiet?” he asked.
“He knows when to be quiet.”
“He wasn’t so quiet while you were running,” he said.
I did as much of a shrug as I could while being pinned down. “We were already being chased. What would be the point of forcing him to be quiet?”
The man holding my guns stood over us. “Well, it would have kept us from hearing you, and you don’t seem to like us so much.” I just looked at him. He had short blond hair that was mostly hidden by a black hat. The look on his face was an unhappy one.
“Call it women’s intuition.”
“You don’t trust us? Why?” This from the fourth man, still hidden by the darkness.
“You trapped me, took my weapons and now you’re talking about taking my baby. I’m sorry if I don’t feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy towards you lot.”
The man pinning me down said, “Nah, before that. You tried to kill me, why?”
I gave him a raised eyebrow. Did he seriously want an answer? I scoffed.
“He’s so cute,” said the man with my knives. He pet Chris’s hair and I struggled to stop him but I couldn’t. They had us, and there was nothing I could do. We were at their mercy so hopefully, they had some.
I licked my lips. “The people I’ve met lately haven’t been the nicest. I’ve learned not to trust. To kill them before they kill us. You can have me however you want me, but please, don’t hurt him. Take your payment and go, please.” Again, the man shook his head. “Don’t play with me! I know what to expect. You can pretend to be all honorable and well-meaning as long as you like, but in the end, you’re all the same. You just want my guard down so it’s more fun for you. Just take what you want and go!” I said through gritted teeth. These weren’t the first men to play the knight in shining armor. Too often I’ve fallen for the helpful stranger routine, just to be ambushed moments later and raped and beaten. Thankfully, so far, none of the men had gone after Chris with rape in mind, but one tried to mercy kill him once. Chris had a scar along his stomach to show for it. As for the man that attempted to kill him, well I gutted the bastard like a fish.
“Okay, I won’t play with you. I’ll tell you exactly what we want from you, but first, let’s get out of these woods. I’m going to let go of you and we’re going to take you somewhere safe,” said the man on top of me.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said. Another hard lesson learned. If they take you somewhere safe, they never let you leave.
He let out a breath and looked to his man in the shadows. “Little help?”
The man came out of the darkness but he was still hidden, dark clothes, dark hair and dark skin. He looked down at me with large black eyes. Slowly he brought his gloved hand to his lips. I felt a pinch, like a bite on my cheek and then the world went dark.
2
I felt jostled and it woke me, but it took me several moments to regain complete consciousness. The world was soupy, swirly and surreal. I wanted to move, but my limbs felt too heavy, and it was too hard to keep my eyes open. While I waited for mobility, I listened to the voices of the men and comprehended as much as I could as the fog slowly lifted from my mind.
“Zombie apocalypse man; there are freaking zombies everywhere. Almost everyone is dead and you still can’t talk normally in front of a girl? Come one, Gerald. I’ll tell you what that is. That right there is pathetic.”
“Shut it, Will. I talked normal back there,” said the man carrying me, Gerald I supposed.
"No," spoke another man, "Your voice went all deep, ‘come with me if you want to live.’ ”
“Shut up Derek,” said Gerald.
“Yeah, that was kind of stupid, man. Are you going to talk like that when she wakes up? Can you keep something like that up?” asked Will.
“That’s just how I talk around the ladies. They happen to like it,” said Gerald.
“Oh, they do? Because to me, it looked like she wanted to kill you,” said Derek.
“Yeah, what did you say to her? She was P.I.S.S.E.D, big time,” said Will.
“Hush. Your bickering is going to wake the baby,” said the fourth man, the one with the subtle British accent. “He’s so cute.”
“I’ll trade you mom for son…” Gerald started to say, but before he could get the sentence out I was fighting myself free from his arms, wiggling like a worm really. “Hold on. Calm down.”
“No, let go of me!” I shouted. I was thrashing around, struggle against his massive arms.
“Miss, Miss,” said the man with the British accent. He stepped into my line of sight and I stopped moving. He was the guy with long dark hair who grabbed up my cut
lery, while the big brute that was carrying me was holding me down. “Look, see. Here’s your boy. He’s safe.”
“He’s sleeping,” I said and I didn’t understand it. He only ever let me hold him. “He should be screaming. Did you drug my baby too?!” I yelled and I tried to lash out in anger, but Gerald tightened his grip around my waist.
“No,” said the blond man who had my guns. I recognized his voice as the one that belonged to Will. That meant that the black fellow standing away from us was Derek. “We didn’t drug your baby. We wouldn’t do that, but if you don’t keep your voice down we may have to drug you again.”
I nodded and took in some calming breaths. “Where are you taking us?”
“I told you,” said Gerald. “Someplace safe.”
I drummed my fingers on his back. “Can I at least walk?”
Gerald hiked me up higher on his shoulder. “I don’t trust you not to do something stupid.
I sighed. “You have my kid and my weapons. I can’t survive without either of them, so I’ll play nice.” I put up my hands, as if to say, ‘look, I’m just a wee unarmed girl.’ The fact that I was draped over a man’s shoulder only helped my case.
Will gave me a long look from under his blond brows. His eyes flicked to Derek, standing in the shadows, then to the man holding Christopher and then to Gerald. He shrugged. “It’s up to you,” he said to Gerald. “She pulled a knife on you, so what you say goes.” I rolled my eyes.
“What’s your name?” asked Gerald.
“Erin,” I said.
“Erin, I’m Gerald, but they call me the Hammer.”
“We never call him that,” spoke up Will.
“They sometimes call me that, because I like to use the hammer when I kill zombies.”
“We never call you that, and you’ve never actually killed a zombie with a hammer...freakin dork,” Will mumbled the last bit.
Gerald cleared his throat. “If I didn’t have a gun, I’d use a hammer. It’s my backup. Anyway, that jerk is William. Don’t mind him. He has no sense of social graces. If he thinks it, he says it. The guy in the shadows is Derek. He’s the strong silent type. That’s Pane, our British companion. We found him out here a couple years ago.”
